It's Not Who You Were Born To

It's Not Who You Were Born To, Part Nine
Adoption

by Scribe

David had become used to waking in darkness a long time ago. He'd never particularly enjoyed it, but waking up WITH someone made it easier. Paul, still deeply asleep, was a cold, still weight in his arms--dead to all intents and purposes, but David could tell. He could sense the spark of--well, it wasn't life, but it was existence, and it was comforting. He sighed quietly, wondering how many more times he'd have this, now that Paul had Dwayne. He was happy for Paul and Dwayne, just as he'd said, but he would miss quiet moments like this.

There was no danger of waking Paul accidentally--a vampire's sleep ended when it ended--but he was gentle getting up and easing the other boy back onto the floor as comfortably as possible. David always woke up before Paul, just as Max always woke up before David. David thought that it probably had something to do with the length of vampiric life. Mortal children required more sleep than adults, so why shouldn't fledgling vampires need more than their sires?

David leaned his ear against the door and listened closely. All sounds were distant, out in the front of the shop, so he slipped out into the store room. At the front of the store, Max was speaking firmly to a sullen teenage boy. "Yes, I KNOW that it's 'Cinderella', but it's the X-RATED version of 'Cinderella', and you're not renting it." He made shooing noises. "Go find yourself a nice horror movie, or something." He looked up and caught David's eyes. "Ah, David. I was hoping you'd drop by." His voice was mild, but his gaze was suddenly cold. Max looked at the female clerk. "Natasha, take over for awhile." Max pointed at the teenager, who was still lurking near the 'Adults' section. "And watch him. I wouldn't be surprised if a tape or two somehow wormed its way under his shirt just before he tried to walk out." Max picked up a folded newspaper, then came out from behind the counter. "Let's step back to the store room, shall we?"

Without responding, David turned around and re-entered the back room, Max following close behind. Once inside, Max shut the door, then tapped the paper on his palm. "David."

"Max." Max took a deep breath. David thought. *Fuck, he DOESN'T HAVE TO BREATHE. He's just doing that for effect, to let me know he's pissed.*

Max said quietly, "Do you want to tell me what happened last night?"

David sighed, leaning his hip against the wall. "Aren't we beyond this bullshit yet, Max?" Max's eyes grew even colder, if that was possible, but his expression didn't change. David continued, "I thought after all these years you could just TELL me what you're thinking instead of playing these 'what did you do?' games."

"All right, David." Max unfolded the paper and held it up. "I'd like an explanation for this."

David took the paper, studying the front page. Santa Carla DID have a daily newspaper, but if you lined a litter box and wrapped a fish, that would pretty much use it up. Being as small as it was, it figured that what happened last night would be pretty big news. *Come to think of it, we might have even made the bigger papers in Los Angeles or San Francisco, at least on the inside. Here--we're friggin' front page for sure.*

The headline was at least two inches tall. SHOOTINGS, MURDER, AND KIDNAPPING. David grunted. "Well, that pretty much encapsulates it."

"The only things that the authorities are sure of are that Dwayne's mother was killed, Dwayne and his stepfather were shot, the boy disappeared, and Dwayne's stepfather was then murdered at the hospital." Max pulled off his glasses and polished them. "They don't say HOW, but the impression I get is that it was rather messy."

"Considering what Jake did to Paul's lover, I'm not at all surprised."

"I thought I told you two to only do what was necessary."

"Well, this was necessary. The fucker NEEDED to die."

"That wasn't your decision, or Paul's--but we needn't go into that right now. What about Dwayne?"

"He's safe," David said shortly.

"I'm gratified, but can I assume that you were also responsible for his, um, kidnapping?"

"Rescue."

"The paper indicated that he was badly hurt, and I know that neither you nor Paul have any great medical expertise."

David grimaced. "Wouldn't have done him much good by the time we got to him. I think Dwayne would have died even if the bastard had shot him IN the emergency trauma room."

Max's voice was soft. "Tell me you didn't turn him, David--not without checking with me."

David crossed his arms, staring at him. "Fine--I won't tell you."

Max's voice was sorrowful. "David--you know that I can't just let this pass, don't you?" David shrugged, but his shoulders tensed--he knew what was coming. Max focused on David, concentrating.

It started as a buzzing in his ears, but it quickly rose to a ringing--then the ache started. At first it was just a dull throb. *Strange how this can throb, since I don't have a pulse anymore. It's like the pain is part memory.* It became a headache, which quickly escalated into a migraine.

The dim light in the store room stabbed at David's eyes like klieg lights, and he shut his eyes--he knew that it wouldn't help, but his reacted out of instinct. The pain grew. David had experienced a lot during his existence. In fact, his skull had been cracked in the earthquake that had killed his family and precipitated his entry into the unlife. He remembered what that had felt like, and it was nothing compared to this.

David felt his knees beginning to weaken, and leaned against the wall, gritting his teeth. *Hold on, just hold on. He never does this for long. Let him get it out of his system, and it will be all right about Dwayne.*

But it didn't let up, and besides the pain, David began to worry that Paul would wake up and see what was going on. He couldn't have that happen. The other boy would try to defend him--and Max would kill Paul. And he didn't believe it was possible, but the pain got worse. It was like a hot spike was being stabbed through his skull. David kept up a mental mantra to stay strong. *Dwayne, Paul, Dwayne, Paul, Dwayne, Paul* The agony increased. David felt tears slip between his tightly shut eyelids as his knees slowly gave way and he sank to the floor. He whispered, "Jesus, Max, please..."

The agony stopped.

It didn't go away entirely--it would take a few minutes for the residual pain to fade, but Max wasn't HURTING him now. He felt Max's cool hand touching his face, wiping away the tears. "Why do you do this, David?" Max's voice was regretful. "You know I hate disciplining my boys."

Perhaps it was a good thing that David felt so weak--he didn't have the energy to flinch back from his sire's touch. He breathed, "You know us kids, Max--gotta rebel." Max's hand was on his hair now, stroking. "What about Dwayne?"

"One of you ought to stay with him at all times till he wakes up." Now Max's voice was pleased. "I can't say I'm happy with the way this came about, but I'm glad to have him." David felt Max take his hand and begin pulling him to his feet. It took a little effort, but he managed to get up. Paul was going to wake at any moment, and he had to be as normal as possible. Max patted David's shoulder, saying, "Bring him around when he comes to."

There was a scratching at the door, and Max opened it. Thorn padded in and sat, looking up at him, tongue lolling. He snorted softly. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Thorn, but I've been preoccupied. David, feed Thorn for me, would you?"

"Be happy to." David stared at the dog as Max left. Thorn stared back. There was no love lost between the two creatures. "I don't know why you can't feed yourself, you lazy asshole. There are tons of rats and strays under the boardwalk." Thorn didn't snarl, but he lifted his upper lip and showed his teeth. "Like I'm impressed."

The shelves swung, and Paul came out, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, David. Ready to go face Max?"

"Been there, done that, bro. Everything is cool."

Paul perked up. "Really? That's terrific." He hesitated, studying David. There was a tiny smear of red moisture at the outer corner of David's right eye. Paul reached out and wiped it away with his thumb. "David, what did Max do?"

David gripped the other boy's wrist reassuringly, and said slowly, "I said everything is cool."

Paul bit his lip. David tried to keep it from him, but he knew that the older boy had taken punishment for him more than once, standing between Paul and Max. *That's another one that needs to be REALLY dead--someday.* "Okay, if you say so."

"I do. You need to eat?" Paul shook his head. "Okay, then let's get back to the lair." They went to the bikes. Thorn growled pointedly. "Fuck! I don't FEEL LIKE going to the store and getting a can of Alpo," David scowled.

Paul looked around the back room. "You'd think Max would keep a couple of cans, or a bag of dry food around here."

"No, that would make life too simple. Going to the store for pet food is a homey little chore--," his voice was sarcastic, "one meant to reinforce our family bonding. Well, I got news for him--Dwayne isn't Bobby, you aren't Peter, and I DAMN sure ain't Greg." He shoved his hands angrily in his jacket pockets, and froze. A slow, wicked smile grew.

He pulled out the clammy little memento that Paul had gifted him with the night before. Thorn's ears immediately perked up, and his pinkish-brown nose twitched at the scent of blood. "Yeah, you recognize that smell, dontcha?" David hefted the lump of flesh in his palm, as if weighing it. "Whataya think, Paul? How much does this weigh?"

"Christ, I don't know--there wasn't a scale around when I removed it." He grimaced. "Maybe they're like fish, and lose weight the longer they're outta their natural environment."

David laughed. "Actually, ol' Jake had nothing to be ashamed of in the size department. Of course he knew jack shit about how to treat his partner. Lessee..." He squinted at the object. "Thorn usually takes one medium sized can." Paul choked with laughter. "What?"

"Nothing. If he goes for it, I can't think of a more effective method of disposal." He looked at the dog, "Though personally, Thorn, I'd be afraid of poisoning. I don't think it's had time to spoil, but just the thought of who it used to be attached to..." He shuddered expressively.

David held the thing a little higher. "Ya want it, Thorn?" The dog wasn't going to beg--not to one of his master's other pets--but his impatient whine sounded a little anxious, and his feet worked restlessly. "Right." David tossed. Thorn hopped, snatching the morsel out of mid-air. He dropped onto his belly, settled his meal between his paws. Holding it firmly with one paw, he began to gnaw and tear.

The boys watched silently for a moment. Paul nodded at the busy dog and said, "Proof positive that Lorena Bobbit chick wasn't as bad as she could have been. I mean, when she drove off with the guy's dick, she must've gone past a few yards that had dogs in 'em, right?"

David laughed, shaking his head as he unlocked the back door. "I don't know who's worse--me, or you."

Paul wheeled his bike out the door, pausing to grin back over his shoulder at his friend. "Lotta fun trying to one-up, though."

They walked their bikes out to the street, then climbed astride. David said, "I just thought of an errand I need to run. You go back and keep Dwayne company. I'll be back soon."

"What do you have to do?"

"It's gonna be a surprise. Go on, man. I know you want to be with him."

Paul smiled sheepishly, but didn't try to deny it. The engines growled into life, and the two boys separated.

*****

Paul spent that night sitting on the bed beside Dwayne, reading or listening to music. Occasionally he touch the cool body gently, stroking the dark hair and murmuring to Dwayne, speaking words of affection and reassurance.

When David appeared near dawn he was rumpled, and Paul noticed a rip in his shirt, over his ribs. David wouldn't let him look, but he was pretty sure there was a gash in his side. Paul didn't insist on looking. Their nature made all but the most severe injuries unimportant. They still experienced pain, but there was little that could actually damage them.

David sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. "Paul, now that you have Dwayne, I'm going back to sleeping in the cavern."

"David, you don't have to..."

David cut him off. "I know, Paul, but it's only right that you two have a place together, at least the first few months. He's going to be needy and insecure--he'll need a lot of reassurance, and having you close will be the best thing for him. You remember how it was when you turned." Paul nodded. He'd been happy with his new existence--or more accurately, his new existence with David. But without the older boy's close, comforting support, he would have been totally miserable while adjusting to his new life.

"Besides, I actually rest better when I'm hanging. I know you have a hard time understanding that, but wait a few years and you'll see what I mean. The wanting to sleep in beds is pretty much a habit left over from being human."

"All right," Paul agreed. He reached out, touching David's knee. "But you'll be with us, if we ask, huh?"

David grinned, then stretched. "Speaking of which--bedtime."

"Stay?"

"Like I'd turn down an invitation like that."

They undressed, then slipped under the sheet--two active, cold bodies bracketing a still one. Paul kissed Dwayne's shoulder, whispering, "Soon, babe. Just a few more hours, and you'll wake up to a whole new world."

*****

*momdeaddeaddeadbloodtoomuchthatmuchblooddeadjakedrunkbastardgunohgodhurtsshotmesonofabitchpaul* "Paul?"

There was a soft gasp, and Dwayne heard, "I'm here, babe. Open your eyes."

"Don't wanna."

"C'mon, look at me. You've been sleeping a long time, and you need to wake up now."

"Light's too bright inna hospital."

Now he heard David's voice. "That's not gonna be a problem, baby brother. Open those pretty eyes."

Dwayne carefully slitted his eyes open, then blinked and opened them wider. Instead of the florescent glare he'd been expecting the light was soft and golden. Was he in a private room--maybe intensive care? They kept the lights dim at night in intensive care, didn't they? But if he was in ICU, he'd be waking up to a nurse or doctor, and not his two best friends.

Paul's face swam into view, the expression tender and relieved. "Welcome back, beautiful."

"Was I in a coma?"

"Something like that." David was on his other side. "You were taking a little longer than we expected to wake up, and Paul there got a little anxious. I kept telling him it wasn't like we could dial 911 in a case like this, so he just had to trust me and be patient."

Dwayne blinked, looking around. "I'm not in a hospital?" The room was slowly pulling into focus, and he recognized the dirt-blocked window, and the dingy wallpaper. He immediately felt more relaxed, recognizing his environment, but how had he gotten to the cliff side lair?

"How much do you remember of what happened?" David asked.

Dwayne thought. How much DID he remember? There was a lot of confusion, and some things that were down-right nightmarish. They must have given him drugs at some point--that was the only explanation he could think of. "I went back to the house." He gave them an apologetic look. "I should have waited."

"Don't worry about that, Dwayne," Paul reassured him. "What's past can't be changed. Go on."

"Jake finally beat my Mom to death," he said flatly. "I found her, then he came in and found ME. And he shot me." Dwayne looked puzzled. "In the back. Say, how long have I been out, since I'm not in a hospital?"

"It's been three days," Paul said. "Keep going."

Dwayne shrugged. "It gets... weird after that. For some reason I keep thinking I was in a car accident, too."

"I had to get you out of that ambulance somehow," said Paul.

Dwayne stared at him, then said slowly, "Paul, why am I NOT in a hospital? Or dead? It hurt so much, I know it had to be very bad."

Paul took his hand. "It was, babe."

Dwayne's voice was faint. "We... we were in an alley."

"Yes."

"You said I could be with you, but I had to die. I--died... didn't I?"

Paul kissed his hand. "Yes, babe."

"And I'm with you now."

"Yes."

Dwayne smiled slowly. "Good."