Meet the F**kers [HIVE]

[Adley Reed]

* Adley Reed had been happy to go back to the Hive - he'd not been doing anything, really, except unloading the loot that he had gathered at the forge ready to start improving the parts when he had the time. Or the inclination. Indigo had become his only inclination upon seeing her at the Apiary, and so if she wanted to take a break and go home, then that's what Adley would do, too. Kaspar would probably be there, and he'd probably know just by looking at the two of them that he had been right. Adley didn't care. He owed it to Kaspar, really - that his feelings for Indigo had been brought to the fore and thoroughly examined. As soon as they entered the house they were greeted by an overly excited Bucket, tail wagging and tongue lolling. There may have even been a whined yip. Adley laughed, but he didn't duck down to pat the dog, to greet him. To do so wouldn't be in the dog's best interest. He left all the love-giving to Indigo, while Adley went to go retrieve the dog's food.


* Indigo reached down as they entered the door. Adley went for the bag of food while she rubbed the canine's head and looked towards the hallway that would lead to the bedroom. She was thinking of shoes. Bucket tended to use them to tide him over until his next meal arrived. So far she had one shoe left of all her favourite pairs. If she ever lost a leg she was still set. Once the sound of of food landing in a bowl was heard the dog bolted to the kitchen and ditched her completely. It gave her the excuse to disappear towards the bedroom and double check on the new Louboutin's she left in the box on the dresser.


* Indigo found the shoes safe from harm and pulled off her sweater which had been a little too warm. While she dug through the dresser drawer she called out to Adley. "So you want to hang here or you got plans?"


* Adley Reed would have followed Indigo to the bedroom regardless of whether she'd called out to him or not. It was a dangerous game they were playing, and without Kaspar here - he could tell that the musician was not around - there was no buffer. No one to give Adley a disapproving look if he got too handsy. No one to make him feel guilty enough to back off. Adley sauntered into the bedroom and perched on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. "I don't have any plans..." he said.


* Indigo stood there and looked at him as he entered the room. The bed and dresser were the only witnesses. Did she remember she had yet to put anything on since she was without a sweater? "No plans?" She set her indigo orbs on him and felt the heat that was a dangerous sign she was stepping close to that line. "None at all?" While his boots were pulled from his feet she nudged the drawer shut without pulling anything out of it. Her hips moved closer to him as she took a few risky steps.


* Adley Reed dropped his second boot on the floor, gaze sweeping incredulously from Indigo's feet all the way up to her face. The wild curls framed her features, her skin glowing with health. With life. Adley knew that he should make something up. He should suddenly remember something, and he should leave. Instead, he shook his head. It was slow, but deliberate. No plans at all. "Bee - do I need to wrap you in cling wrap?" he asked. She was looking an awful lot like a predator right now. Adley even stood, the indecision pulling him in two different directions. He should leave. They should go out into the main space and find something to distract themselves. And so he stood - and yet he didn't go anywhere.


* Indigo felt her brows lift in question as she took another step closer. Her lips slowly parted and the tip of her tongue traced the hard line of her teeth. Somehow cling wrap just wasn't for covering the bowl that they didn't have a lid for. Eventually she would toss the damn thing out but right now wrap and cling played on her mind and she was feeling void of any hesitation. Impulse was in overdrive as he stood up. "Would you like to?" Her finger stretched out to brush at his bottom lip they all loved to taste. right now it was closer than ever to getting nipped.


* Adley Reed shook his head. Again, he wasn't in control of himself. He should have laughed and said yes. He should have listed all the weird and wonderful things that they could do with cling wrap. He could have lead her out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find the stuff - and yet he stood there, shaking his head. He didn't want the ******* cling wrap. What would he like? To be able to touch Indigo without some other material between them. His fingers grasped at the material of her pants, but he didn't say anything. He didn't say yes or no. "...we shouldn't," he said, his voice barely there. A whisper of words that he didn't really want to utter.


* Indigo eyes fell to his hand where the weight of it was dangling on her pants. "I disagree, Adley." Her hand dropped down to the hem of his shirt and her fingers curled to slowly gather it up and hold it tight as she lifted it upward. She leaned in and did what she felt compelled to and bit his bottom lip and realized it was a bit too hard as the taste of blood found her tongue.


* Adley Reed threw all caution to the wind when Indigo got just that tiny bit closer; her body was flush against his. The shirt had been removed with a flourish, and she had her lips on his. Adley's eyes were shut tight. Maybe if he focused, maybe if he concentrated hard enough, the fatal nature of his touch would abate. If it was something he could control, then now was the time that he would find out. He wanted it to be so, so much that he cupped Indigo's neck with his palm, fingers digging into her hair. When her teeth broke skin he gasped a moan against the kiss, but he didn't pull away. Bright red blood was smeared as he deepened the kiss. He was too far gone to think of the consequences - or too green and naive to think that a few stray drops could do any harm.


* Indigo slid her hands down over his hips. Each palm cupping the skin and definition beneath as they moved to dip the tips of her fingers beneath the material at his waist. Slowly they drifted to weave behind his back and pull him closer as the warmth of her skin kissed his. The coppery sweetness of his lips seeped into her mouth, coating her tongue as it lingered a little pursuing the dance of his. She was getting high and this time she was damned if she didn't take him with her. Her hips fit against his and her lips pulled back just enough that she kept the tip of her tongue in contact with his skin as a warm damp trail formed from his chin to the lower line of his jaw. There she left a crimson trail as to where she was leaving and where she was heading.


<Kaspar> There had been a lot building to this moment, discussion and disagreement, laughter and gentle kisses. There had been a push and pull, a silent battle raging within each man as they tried to work out if they wanted to fit against each other or rebel and deny the attraction. They failed in the latter, and had quickly found a place for the other in their lives. Kaspar figured it was a process, for him it was bit by bit, introducing Grey to his world and letting him come to understand what it meant to be with him. Already he’d been taken home to meet the Wife, the woman having demanded it for multiple reasons, and thus had spent a few evenings there speaking with Sigrid and playing with his son, Will. He already knew Adley, and of course had more history than either of them liked to bring up often with the now absent Jamie. Indigo was the last piece of the puzzle, and so it was with this in mind that he’d dragged the man from his apartment and plonked him in the car.

One hand tapped at the steering wheel in time with the music, the other hovering over the keys, waiting for the song to end before he killed the engine. He relaxed for a moment in the big black jeep, glancing at the house. “This is the Hive, liebchen. We’ll see if they are here first, if not, there is a shortcut to the Apiary inside.” His lips quirked into a little smirk, the portal sure was a shortcut, and a stomach turning one at that. “Maybe we should look at a place here? It is a nice little area.” Grey had expressed interest in finding a new place, and thus for the past week or two the pair had been flicking through listings. Kaspar provided his opinion and begrudging acknowledgement that no matter he said he’d be getting a copy of the keys shoved into his hands, in truth he didn’t overly mind. In a way, it was exciting, even as he kept reminding in himself it had not even been two months of dating. It would be good for Grey, it would be a chance to clear out the last of the ghosts, the skeletons and oversized coats in his closet. Yet here he was, taking him into the other house the ghost in question hovered. “Come on.” He hopped out of the car, moving around towards the door, pausing long enough for Grey to join him, one hand in his as key was turned in lock.


<Grey Weston> He tried - and failed - to return the smile leveled on him. His own quickly flagged, fading into something crooked and fragile. Uncertain. The past few weeks had been full; chaotically so. He’d agreed to meeting Indigo on a whim; caught up in the moment. Kaspar had that effect. The two of them had a knack for surfacing days later, lungs starved for oxygen; for letting the rest of the world fall away. Depending on who you asked, it was either a good thing, or a selfish one. Part of him had agreed because it clearly mattered to Kaspar that he did, and the other half had agreed out of a morbid sense of curiosity. To see what made a man turn his back on a life, a home, leaving it in ruins.

It was ‘home’ only for a few hours anymore; usually when Kaspar filled it. It was why he’d suggested the move; it was as much about building a home as it was a last ditch effort to exorcise the remnants of Jameson from his life. A quiet plea for the man to call off his ghost. He shot him a look a second later. “Maybe!” he agreed. His gaze, however, suggested they’d discuss it later. No point in telling him that it was a touch too parallel to something he wasn’t sure he could make room for. He got out of the car a second later, a bit hurriedly. He relaxed once he caught up to Kaspar, fingers reaching for and tangling with the fingers of his free hand unconsciously. “Still not entirely sure this isn’t a huge mistake,” he muttered back.


* Adley Reed struggled, still, with whether this was right or wrong. Indigo had not balked at the taste of blood; surely she could taste it, if Adley himself could. Her lips left his and his tongue prodded at the inside of his lower lip. The blood pooled on his tongue; the puncture she had left behind was no small thing. It was deep, the crimson liquid staining his lips and spilling from the corner of his mouth. The bleeding would soon stop - it would heal, before long. They could keep going, he reasoned. It was the first time Indigo will have fallen asleep on him. His eyes flew open, however, his hand pushing lightly at Indigo's hip. It wasn't the keys that he heard. It was the voices, drifting through a semi-open door. "... Kas is home," he gasped. And it sounded like he had company.


* Indigo brushed her fingers over her bloody lips. There was something about the way the crimson streaks lingered on his skin that made her inclined to lick each trace free from view with her tongue. The very same one she had plans on using in numerous other ways. Even as he announced that Kaspar was home. "So...not like he won't be walking in to try joining us." She did however anticipate this first round being a lot more about she and Adley than a triple treat deal like they had indulged in recently. "Isn't that right Boo?" She called out expecting to find Kaspar peeling off his clothes at the sight of them as if it were an invite...which it usually was. She turned to the sounds of approaching footsteps."Boo?"


<Kaspar> There was an unusual quiet in the house, a stillness though there was life in the place. People were home. The familiar scuttling sound of paws padding excitedly across the ground greeted his ears, not overly surprised when a dopey blonde came rushing out at him from the direction of the kitchen. “No, BUCK-...” Collision, a head forcefully slammed into his thighs, tail wagging fiercely as the dog greeted him. “Hello, ditz. I’m guessing they gave you dinner, hmm?” He reached down to stroke fingertips over the dog’s fur, receiving a lick for the effort. Bucket was quickly distracted, however, by the man entering behind him. Kaspar freed himself, closing the door and allowing the pair to catch up as he slipped down the hall. “Follow me, if you can get passed the blonde.” He muttered, a slight frown as he heard a voice calling him from the bedroom. The sight that greeted him was more of a surprise than it should have been, Adley shirtless, blood on his lips and Indigo looking rather pleased herself. There was a moment of silence, a pressure building slowly behind Kaspar’s eyes, a cold rage gripping him as suspicions teased at him. “Adley...” He stared at the man over Indigo’s head, tensed in anticipation.


<Grey Weston> The familiar sound of those claws against the floor was jarring. He’d been focused on trailing behind Kaspar, thoughts elsewhere, trying not to taking in his surroundings. He didn’t want to notice details; didn’t want to memorize them for the quiet car ride back, playing them back in an endless loop like a grainy home video on a projector reel. He was uncomfortable, his shoulders tense. The sound of Bucket hurtling for the pair made him glance up sharply, a low exhale - caught between a chuckle and the sharp sound someone made as they doubled over a fist to the gut - sliding from his throat. He knelt as the dog’s focus shifted, honing in on him with a wide-mouthed, dopey expression. For a second, his forehead knocked against Bucket’s, fingers burying in the silky fur behind his ears. He didn’t seem to have heard Kaspar. “Who’s a good boy, huh? Who’s the best ******* idiot, hmm?” The words were affectionate, the dog forced to patiently endure a series of kisses to his face despite the dull, stinging pressure behind his eyes - hot and wet and rapidly blinked away - which he clumsily attempted to reciprocate, body wriggling. He missed, more often than not. He got to his feet reluctantly a second later, forcing himself to follow Kaspar before the man could get too far ahead. He came to a stop behind him a few seconds later, palms reaching to smooth across the small of Kaspar’s back. What the **** had he gotten pulled into?


* Adley Reed didn't have the time to react. Indigo was so sweet, so utterly clueless about the repercussions of Kaspar witnessing... this. There'd been discussions in the past between the two men. Their focus was on keeping Indigo safe, and part of that goal was for Adley not to touch. Just don't do it, Adley. A few quick kisses here and there weren't a big deal, but this? As soon as Kaspar stepped into the rom and narrowed the steely gaze at Adley, he dropped his hands from Indigo as if he had never touched her to begin with. His tongue darted over his lips, trying his best to hide any trace of blood, but of course it will already have been seen. "Kas..." he replied, with a tone that said 'this isn't what it looks like'. Even though it was. His gaze slid over to the newcomer. Someone he recognised. Adley beamed. "...and Grey! Who would have thought?" he said, turning his eyes back to Kas.


* Indigo was high enough she wasn't registering at first that someone was behind Kaspar until Adley was pointing it out. Her increasingly numb tongue drifted over her lips tasting the remnants of a savory kiss Adley while she finally did a double take at the look on Kaspar's face. Oh so there was something she didn't expect. Another face behind Kaspar. She blinked then realized she was was standing in lace covering her upper half...thin wisp of lace at that. She gave her waistband of her pants a light lift as she scooted and drawled to the bed to hide a little behind Adley. She peeked over his bare shoulder as he announced the name Grey. "I never would have thought..." With that she felt like a leaf slowly preparing to curl up inside.

[Kaspar]

<Kaspar> The hands at his lower back were a comforting pressure, a grounding weight reminding that this was new territory for the man that stood behind him. Inhale. Exhale. Slow and steady he breathed as Adley pulled back from Indigo, dropping his hands from her like a hot potato and trying to distract by noting Grey's presence. "Ja, arschloch. Who would have thought?” His lips were parted, something brittle and biting hovering on the tip of his tongue, a potential reprimand. Kaspar's hands curling into fists at his side, ready to react when Indigo began to slump, her voice hazy. "Indigo, love, yes this is Grey. He's going to be helping me get you into bed, because you need to rest.” When he spoke bitter edge was gone, though his body was held taut like a guitar string wound too tight, ready to snap with the lightest pluck. The words were carried softly, as if he might as well have sung them. "Adley is going to go, he is going to make you a hot chocolate or coffee, something with sugar.” His eyes met the man's, the expression there warning him against arguing. A silent how dare you.


<Grey Weston> “Adley.” The greeting was light; amicable enough. It was difficult to match his smile when Adley’s lips were streaked with the faded evidence of blood. Not coated, but damp with it all the same. The nervous dart of his tongue didn’t help matters. There was a tension in the gesture; a creeping sense of guilt. His gaze drifted briefly to Indigo, and he inhaled involuntarily. The scent confirmed what he already knew. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he groaned out, attention rapt on that bright smear of color on Adley’s lips that quickly vanished. He kept his palms pressed against Kaspar’s back, fingertips tracing the skin there absently. He could feel the tension; the tautness of the muscles under his touch; coiled. There was a restless energy underneath his skin; something that buckled under the strain of keeping his temper in check. He might have balked at the man’s words. Instead, he found himself nodding in mute agreement, a frown settling into place. “Please be ******* kidding me,” he added, before stepping around Kaspar, movements brisk. There was an urgency to his steps to suggest he’d seen this before. Not this, precisely. But something similar.


* Adley Reed narrowed his eyes at Kaspar, who suddenly felt the need to try to take the lead. Indigo had ducked behind him, leaving Adley victim to the full force of Kaspar's rage. As simmering as it might be, it was obvious within his tone, and his demeanor. The retort was there on Adley's tongue; several of them, actually. He wanted to argue, to say no. To tell Kaspar to **** off, and that everything was fine. But was it? How far would they have gone if Kaspar hadn't walked in on them? Kaspar had a point. Adley knew it. They all knew it. Adley didn't even clarify for Grey - that Indigo had bitten him, not the other way around. Instead, he wordlessly brushed past the two of them, exiting the room. Although he went to the kitchen, it wasn't necessarily to do as he was told. It was to stay out of the room where he wasn't welcome. There was the temptation to leave the house all together.


* Indigo was left in the open and now she had her sights set on Kaspar. He knew the deal of the Hive. There was nothing wrong with what happened except the fact he had company when he walked in. Not that Grey was not welcome. Just that she now met the guy for the first time in her bra, with Adley’s blood painted across her lips and in their bedroom. She blinked. The room left Kaspar, Grey and her. Even Bucket was heading for neutral ground. She adored the man trying to tuck her in like she was Laura Ingalls and was told she couldn’t visit Mary at the school for the blind after all.But it wasn't going to work this time. No, hot chocolate wouldn’t fix what she had going on.

Indigo’s movements proved as much. Slowly with purpose and a little weakness in her motions she slid off the bed and stepped around him. A drawer was tugged open and her hands went through the contents within as they attempted to before. She needed to say something because there was a man who walked out of something that was initiated by her.

“Kaspar…” She said his name not because she was reprimanding him but because she wanted his full attention. “I know you mean well. I do.” The deep v-neck cotton stretch t-shirt went over her arm. She pulled out a pair of pink yoga shorts and new set of lace to wear underneath both. The drawer bumped with her hip and she faced the one she would do just about anything for and he knew it. Her hand reached out and caressed his cheek. She stepped in closer and smiled a little until her face took on the expression of being entirely serious. “I love him.” Her eyes bounced between his fixed and with conviction. “I do. And I took things to where things were when you walked in. I touched him first, ignored his reminders and I bit him.” She didn’t move. Her energy was taxed and she would need it for what she was about to suggest. “We have no secrets. Now you know. I am not changing my mind. I want this.” Her tongue drifted over the last of the blood caked on her lips. Her body was eating itself inside, or it felt like it. She would double over when she reached the bathroom. “Give me a couple minutes to clean up then I will greet Grey properly,ok?” She forced a wink to the man who arrived at what appeared to be a moment of surprise for all.

Indigo moved around the spot Kaspar stood then paused. She brushed a kiss across his cheek then moved forward into the entry of the hallway then stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Two more steps and he deposited the clothes on the vanity and one more step and she dropped to her knees. As her hand turned on the hot water she felt the knots form in her stomach. As much as it hurt she welcomed them. She was that much closer to Adley. Finally. The rest was only a matter of time.



<Kaspar> It was thoroughly startling how person could be so obtuse, even after a multitude of warnings, of request for caution she seemed utterly intent on getting herself into bad situations. Kaspar followed Grey to the side of the bed, acknowledging the man’s words with a weary sort of glance. No one was kidding, the woman was indeed that gormless. In his mounting frustration he followed her movements with reluctance, a hand outstretched in case she should fall. He was able to see through her attempts at strength, her determination only proved how utterly oblivious she was to consequence. His name on her lips was an unwelcome sound, he flinched back from it, taking a half-step towards Grey. Touch was worse, it only served to make him feel as if she was trying to chastise him, to talk him down from something irrational. The desire to take that hand by force from his face caused a slow tremor to build, starting at his fingertips and travelling upwards over his palms.

Indigo spoke to him as if this were some great revelation, some more miracle that was being revealed before his very eyes. It was not.

She swept away on unsteady legs, determined not to let Kaspar palliate her suffering, to stave it off before it rocked her fully. Let her then. It was a sharp thought, it cut through his calm and severed the part of him that wanted to chase after her. Dangerous. At some point his fingers had curled, nails against his palms to clutch at the frayed edges of his patience. “Fick dich.” He snarled, first meeting the top of the dresser with bruising force. The only thing that stopped Kaspar’s quickening anger exploding in full force was Grey, watching him, waiting. “She can be so thoroughly namby-pamby, so completely off this planet when it comes to… This.” He gestured around him, the intention to encompass not the room around but the feeling, the subtle reminders of those who at times called it home.

There was effort made to swallow down the rest, swallow the feelings that wanted to spew forth, burning a scorching path like bile in his throat. Blindly he reached it, uncoiling long fingers to stretch out and stroke against the softness of Grey’s cheek. “Liebchen, i’m sorry, I must handle this. Stay, mm? Please.” The note of pleading caused his breath to hitch, head turning sharply in the direction the others had gone. It was in the hall he found himself walking, stopping, hovering. “Adley…” No need to raise his voice, the name fell from his lips silent as a breath.


<Grey Weston> A hissed exhale escaped between his teeth in the wake of Indigo’s confession. She’d moved closer to Kaspar, her gaze searching. It was hard to say what she was looking for. Understanding? Absolution. Maybe the two were interchangeable for her; one and the same. A part of him wanted to throw up his hands; to let go of the sharp, humorless bark of laughter he struggled to bite back. She spoke the words with something that wavered between conviction and a vain kind of pride. So sure of herself. What was it with women? Vienna behaved the same way; living as if the consequences of her choices couldn’t touch her. Half the time he wanted to reach out and shake her.

He shifted his weight when Kaspar took that half-step towards him; allowing his hip to press lightly against his own. I’m here. His gaze was listless; settling on distant points around the room, rather than Indigo. It wasn’t that her state of half-undress made him uncomfortable; modesty wasn’t something he was terribly fussed with. It was uncomfortable because his first encounter with her consisted of her swaying across the room, behaving as if she’d understood what she’d done. It was naive. It was stupid. It was striking a match against her bones and setting fire to her skin, in the vague hope that Adley would love her enough to smother the flames; that spark of self-destruction.

Some lovers let you burn. He took a half-step towards her as she made her way out into the hall on unsteady legs. He, at least, knew what was coming. He turned at the sound of Kaspar’s fists striking the dresser. It was a wonder that it didn’t buckle; crack under the impact. He moved closer, making his way towards him. “It’s her choice.” He said lowly. “You can’t…” He sighed, cutting himself off. Instead, he leaned into his touch, head turning slightly to press a kiss against the inside of his palm. “She thinks she knows what she’s doing,” he settled on, flatly. “She’s bought into the whole ‘love conquers all’ ********.”

It didn’t. Not some things. Not this. “She doesn’t…” His jaw tensed, and he trailed off. There was no need to fuel Kaspar’s anger, right then. It would only make it worse. “Shhh.” He murmured, head lifting. He reached up to cup both of Kaspar’s hands in his a second later, showering the back of his knuckles in quick, soft kisses. “I know.” It was why he hadn’t thrown up his hands and bolted; why he’d swallowed the clawing panic and the instinct to run. “Go damage control,” he said finally. “I’ll be here.”


<Adley Reed> The patterns on the kitchen bench had suddenly become very interesting. Either that or the bench had suddenly done something to deserve the heavy weight of Adley’s wrathful gaze. Tanned fingers curled around the edges of the bench as he leaned; Bucket ran around his feet, excited at all the people in the house - company finally! - but Adley paid the dog no mind, only grumbling sharply when the dog tried to lean lovingly against Adley’s thighs. He had to side-step, had to move somewhere else. It wouldn’t do to hurt the dog, too. It wouldn’t do to have Kaspar blame him for that as well.

Adley had been so close to snatching his keys from the bowl by the door and leaving. It wasn’t just that he felt Kaspar’s command to go make hot chocolate was just a veiled command to just get out. He knew that Kas had a right to be angry, and Adley didn’t like to admit when other people were right. What was worse? He did love Indigo. He was in love with Indigo. It was supposed to be selfless, and to let her get so close, to give in, it was weak. And Adley didn’t like to be weak, either.

But the conversation from the bedroom had caught his attention. He couldn’t help but overhear; couldn’t help but be angry. Grey had only just got here. Maybe Kaspar’s intention was to bring him closer to the group, but that had not yet happened. And yet there he stood, making judgments. Adley didn’t need Kaspar to call him back with the drop of a name. Adley was already at the mouth of the hallway. Normally such a quiet man, Adley couldn’t help the rise in volume as he passed by Kaspar, as he paced the space between the musician and the bedroom, a lion doing its paces outside the door of the bathroom. As if he were protecting Indigo; he was protecting the thing that they had done.

“You don’t know us, or what we would do for each other,” he near-shouted at Grey. They were both so pessimistic, and Adley wasn’t having it anymore. He didn’t want to feel like the bad guy when minutes before he’d been soaring. He didn’t want that moment with Indigo to be marred by guilt. He turned his fiery gaze on Kaspar.

“And I don’t need your almighty ******* tone. We lost control, okay? You can’t tell me you’ve never lost control before. I’m not going to apologise. I’d never let her die,” he said. And she was fine, wasn’t she? She’d got up from that bed and she’d made her way to the bathroom. But that didn’t stop Adley from pausing, hands grasping at the door frame, forehead knocking against the wood. “Bee - are you okay?”


* Indigo heard the voices raise on the other side of the door. She shut off the water and found her feet steady enough to rise. Adley’s voice raising was a surprise and her attention fixed on it. He was right. They would do anything for eachother. It just so happened that things had escalated quickly. Of course she understood Kaspar’s concern. She felt the consequence clawing inside of her as if it was a toxic presence beneath her skin. Her ‘high’ was different. This time it had less than favorable after effects. Was it Adley’s blood? It didn’t matter. No matter what was the cause nothing changed the fact that she wanted it to happen and she wanted to continue what they had barely started. In hind sight...when the time was right.

Indigo plucked the v-neck top from the vanity and pulled it over her head. Once her arms found their way through the sleeves it formed against her like a cotton skin. Her hands briefly dropped to the vanity to brace her body while she took in a few slow inhales. Her head was swimming while the rest of her was standing still. Now she would ask more questions, neutralize what was evidently becoming a possible war of words and views just outside the bathroom door. She was a part of it and she would be damned if she was going to hide out. There was nothing to hide from. The truth was always there and now it was time to give a little more of it.

With a stretch of her arm the door unlocked just as Adley asked if she was okay. She smiled and stepped forward and pressed a brief kiss to the front of his shoulder. She would be damned if she was not going to be able to at the very least do that.

“I am better than okay.” She smiled as her eyes found the distance between all still close enough that she could still get the attention of all present. “He is right.” Her eyes met Grey then Kaspar and finally found Adley in the slow, deliberate sweep of her gaze. “We maybe took it a little too far. I don’t regret it. One way or another it will happen again.” She leaned against the frame of the door beside her. “I made my choice, Boo. Jay was there, so was Adley and when you returned I told you too. It hasn’t changed. It will happen unless someone tosses me under a bus first. Or... someone does it who is not concerned in the least about taking it. It seems to happen frequently, right? So, yeah, I am ready. The longer I wait the more I am sure of it.” Her eyes danced between Kaspar and Adley. “You said it was up to me. There you have it. I can send out embossed invitations and make it black tie if that will make it more enticing.”

She inhaled deep and held it for several silent seconds. Damn, she was more than ready. The air was full of tension and that wasn’t new to her. She lived with three vampires. But this time it was different because it was directed at each other. It was bound to happen. No matter how much housemates got along there would be moments such as these. It was the reason why all were tense that made it awkward. Yelling was never an issue, anger nearly non existent. Communication was intact and that was one of the reasons it was cohesive. Her eyes found Grey and studied him.

“I am Indigo.” She stuck out her hand and let her body lean forward with it. The weakness spreading through her was hard to ignore but she was determined to see it through this time. “I assume you have seen enough or know enough to be standing here with us so please don’t let this ruin your interest in returning. Welcome to the Hive.”

[Indigo]

<Kaspar> “Hey, no.” He put his hand up as Adley went for Grey, intercepting his body between them, moving closer to the bathroom door where he took up his anxious vigil. “He knows me, he knows what I… Just don’t drag him into this.” There was challenge, a rise of the chest and tilt of the head. “Of course i’ve lost control, but she just admitted she knew what she was up to. I bet you paused, hm? You thought about it? You chose. I lo-… Look, I adore you both, I want this for you. **** you, how dare you even for a second pretend I don’t. You know what I have done to try and make it possible. No one is telling her she can’t have it, but timing. Don’t ******* apologise then, i’m not asking for it.”

Kas backed off a pace as Adley spoke to the door frame, his own voice joining him after a few seconds. “Caramel, you should let us assist you. Adley and Grey have both…” His gaze swept over the pair individually, looking at the two examples of vampire blood addiction. One still human, still holding onto it in some manner and the other had long shaken off his mortal coil. “Please.” There was so much more he wanted to say, wanted to scream in frustration, but he bit it back. Rarely did he let slip this much of his inner workings, let show the thoughts that bombarded his mind.

When the door opened it released a cloud of the scent that was very much Indie, Kas inhaling it, choking on it as he tried to clear his mind. To calm the writhing of his anger deep in the pit of his stomach. He let her speak, listening attentively and growing ever more still. The man’s posture became that of defense, straight and tense, that slow trembles returning. Were he human there was no doubt in his mind his face would be red from the effort, in reality his features were calm, even, but the tick of a muscle at his jaw and burning in his eyes were the indicators of what was coming. She mentioned Jay, and it was all he could do not to scream that he was gone, that he wasn’t here to help them now. He had left. It was bitten back, with the quickest glance at Grey, the name Jay slipped away from his tongue.

“You.” The word came out more sharply than he intended, reaching out to capture the hand extended, tugging it towards himself instead, pulling Indigo towards his chest. His arm locked around her waist, keeping her to his chest. “Are going to listen, and listen well. No one has said no, Indigo. No one has told you that you cannot have it. We offered it, did we not? We promised it. The only request that you inform us when you were ready, and that we do it right, to save your LIFE. You. are. Human.” His breath was shallow, something inhuman about it as the words pressed beneath thinned lips, grating forth. “You think I don’t understand why? I do. You are in love, I know, I told him to face it. Now your body is going to reject what you took out of love, and you feel it already, don’t you? The sickness, the pain. Had you patience enough to listen to me I might have been able to help stop it, to ease it and make you at least feel alright while it rocked through your system. Now? I can try. But you need to LISTEN to me. This, you know nothing about. In this you are blind, you are lost.” He raised his gaze to Adley, “Both of you.”

His words may have been harsh, but they were passionate, imbued with some faint reminder of a rousing speech meant to inspire a feeling, a strength even if it were to rail against him. He let his lips fall to hers, a brief, chaste thing that sealed it, the offering of some of his own strength to bolster hers. Was that love? Family? Assistance even in anger.


<Grey Weston> The laughter he’d bitten back rose from his throat at Adley’s outburst. The noise was a ragged sound; scornful and sharp. It died quickly. There was no humor in it; it flirted with hysteria at its edges. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.” I know that you take what isn’t yours. I’ll be damned if I let you do it again. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue as hot and burning as a shot of Mescal. The difference was there was no whisper of sweetness; no faint hint of sugar on the rim. Again? He shoved the thought down; earmarking it to examine it later. He knew. Of course he knew. He’d felt the same way about Jameson. He would’ve done anything the man asked without question. He had, more than once; surrendering to his mercurial whims. He’d lived for the high of it; the impulsiveness, the sensation of always being slightly off-kilter. There’d been no limitations. No boundaries. It had been so easy for them to crawl into each other’s skin and disappear for days at a time.

It was how they’d made sense of the world; how they coped with the sensation that there was never enough. His gaze fixed on Adley, and for a split second - just a second- there was a flash of rage. Some primal thing just under his skin. A welling desire to answer the challenge and tear into him. It would be a relief, in a way. An excuse to release months of frustration, and resentment, and a clawing desperation in the form of split knuckles and teeth. “Leave us out of it,” he said lowly, as Kaspar moved to step in front of him, shielding him from the brunt of Adley’s...tension? Aggression? Adley’s anger was justified, to a degree. But it made him blind to the consequences; to the fact that a shift had occurred in an already fragile balance, creating hairline fractures.

He shot Kaspar a sharp look a second later. His lips parted. He wanted to protest. He and Adley were nothing alike. Their circumstances were entirely different. Grey hadn’t become what he was to feed a hunger; to sate an addiction. It had been a choice; the blind instinct to survive. “Stop.” The word was soft, but curt. He didn’t know what kind of ‘assistance’ Kaspar thought he could provide, short of combing her hair back from her face and sweeping it over her shoulder, holding it in place as she curled over the toilet. Assuming she made it that far. Assuming he didn’t roll her onto her side to force her airways clear. To lie still and quiet with his arms at his sides, staring at the ceiling as he counted the space between her breaths.

Indigo’s arrival did nothing to dispel the tension in the room. For a moment he stared at her, listening as she spoke. “Stupid,” he said flatly, gaze sweeping from her face to Adley’s. The word was sighed out, and mildly incredulous. There was no stopping the steps she’d taken; once rooted, it was a viral thing; meant to twist and warp. He was tempted to reach out as she leaned forward, to steady her. He was spared the contact by Kaspar’s outreached hand, and he was relieved to step aside. Her sentiment - earnest and sincere though it was - made him flinch. He straightened a moment later, gaze flicking briefly to Kaspar. “Keys.” The request was soft.


<Adley Reed> There were so many things that Adley could have said. There were so many ways his words could have formed in different ways. Control wasn’t the best choice, maybe. Yes, they had paused. Adley himself had paused. He had thought about it. And he had given in. He hadn’t been strong enough to say no, and he would have assumed that Kaspar would have had similar moments; moments where he knew he should say no, but he said yes instead. Kaspar was no ******* angel.

He scorned the fact that both Kaspar and Grey seemed to think they knew anything. Neither man had any problem touching Indigo, caressing her in ways that Adley could not. Grey hadn’t, of course, but in future he might have. Kaspar deigned to think that because Grey knew all about him, that he would know all about Adley, too. Neither of them could comprehend the struggle, the frustration, the pure internal agony of not being able to have what he wanted. The way he had to resist while he watched others enjoy giving and taking pleasure from the woman he had only recently realised he was in love with.

The incredulous fury, even the hurt, was written all over Adley’s features, but any retort was bitten back as Indigo came out of the bathroom. Adley remained close, inhaling the scent of her hair as she pressed that light kiss to the skin of his shoulder. He turned, arms balanced against the frames of the doorway on either side of him, a solid wall behind Indigo as she tried to placate the men. It both worked, and didn’t. Kaspar’s angry rant had a desperate tone to it, now, and Adley knew that he said the things he did because he cared. Grey, on the other hand, was content to call them stupid before asking for keys. Adley’s fingers curled into fists, though they remained pressed against the door’s frame.

“You can take mine. Gold Jeep. Keys are on the hook by the door,” he said, voice barely remaining even, rage a subtle tremor beneath the surface. It was a none-too-subtle hint. He didn’t take well to being insulted in his own home. From Kaspar he might have accepted it, but from a relative stranger - he’d like nothing more than to throw Grey out onto the grass and gravel himself. Whatever he had to say to Kaspar could wait until later.


* Indigo felt the pull of Kaspar from the middle of her wrist to the very core as her body connected to his. Her hips and chest were now against his as he spoke. He had her at the first word. You. Too bad she had a few words to add once she could. It seems there was a lecture coming on. Imagine that of all things in the Hive. She glanced to Grey. Her eyes were ready to narrow down as her feeling of welcome had been thanks to his premature assessment that was not asked for. It gained Adley’s attention and hers as well. Stupid was rather bold...perhaps a bit brave for one in close proximity with those who owned the hallway he said it in.

Her hand went palm flat to Kaspar’s chest ready to curl at the fingertips for subtle leverage as she parted her lips to speak. She was insulted. It had been a damn long time since she had been the more she gave the situation more thought. Who was this guy? Really. Her indigo orbs lifted to meet Kaspar’s. There was no question he was pissed off. That is when Kaspar really set in. Of course that was to be expected.

They got caught red faced and handed. Kaspar brought in a witness who appeared all but ready to bail now that he delivered his verdict. While Kaspar read her the riot act or something to that effect she was giving Grey a stare down while she could. For once she was feeling less than the hospitable, always welcoming hostess. The sound of Kaspar’s voice weighed in vibrating through his chest and into hers. As it did she felt the burn of the truth he spoke of sinking deeper in the layers of her muscles that were hardly what they had been the more she stood still. She felt fragile in the storm that was growing, questionable against the forces around her that were coming into play.

The signs were all there. She was reckless. But wrong? She was still on the fence about that. She could smell Adley on her skin and...no, it wasn’t wrong, they weren’t wrong. The conditions were perfect until it came down to the blood in her mouth and the absorption. She was balancing the high that was coming on and giving as good as Adley was. Given a chance she was willing to bet she could have held on longer than she ever had before. But now as her body was weeping for totally different reasons on the inside she had to admit the bite may have been not the best move she could have pulled.

Just when the overwhelming sensation of fatigue started taking its toll she was hit with a sense of hope and focus on being a little more reasonable...if that made sense. Her hand brushed down Kaspar’s chest and slid to his hip delivering a gentle squeeze. Yes, they could work this out. Her face lost the tension beneath the layers of skin and the muscles relaxed. No one needed to tear up the lawn with the others body. Kaspar’s public service announcement on the dangers of biting her favorite vampire in their bedroom had some merit.

The proof was in her knotted up gut, her spinning head and the sweat surfacing across her forehead and the nape of her neck. She licked her lips slowly. There was Adley on the tip of her tongue once again. If it was the reason she felt like she was heading for the hangover of the century she would take it. Nothing tasted so sweet or so unforgettable. Adley spoke up and offered the keys. She pulled her eyes to find Adley behind her and she was certain. Certain as she felt the twist of her insides break free from whatever lining or wall of tissue they were supposed to remain connected to. The jolt of strength that came over her from out of nowhere was greeted with a declaration of war from what was already invading her system. Kaspar’s lips were met with the vibration of her voice.

“Help.”

One word was whispered from her lips and her fingertips tightened down then released Kaspar. She stepped back so that her back crushed out the space between Adley’s body and her own. The coolness of his skin against her was like an ice cube caressing a blister. It was an instant relief and she sighed with it. Her hands went to her hair and pulled it off the back of her neck.She wouldn’t be surprised if steam was ready to rise. There was no turning back. She could sense it in every fiber of her being.


<Kaspar> While he couldn’t say he entirely disagreed with the sentiment at this point Kaspar still flinched under the weight of that one word, clearly directed at Indigo and Adley. The quiet request for keys had a sharp sound of protest catching in his throat, and yet he wouldn’t argue if that’s what Grey really wanted. Not exactly like this could get much better, they’d walked into this home and managed to upset those who lived here. His arms were full of Indigo, ensuring she didn’t fall, watching her as she began to burn against him. Things were quickly approaching fever point, and it would soon be too late to obviate disaster. “Adley, love, please… We have two choices now.” His voice was ragged, fraught with a tension born of genuine fear, creating a waver in his commanding tone. “Hope she can ride this out, or…” Kaspar let her go when she drew back, let her stumble back into the cold comfort of Adley’s solid chest. If he was being honest he was half tempted to press himself in there too. To just curl around them and shut his eyes would be easy, or to walk away. He felt a pull at his insides, a division, and his gaze shifted to Grey.

One hand reached for him, long fingers stroking at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer with gentle pressure. They were close enough that it was no great task to let his other hand stretch to Adley, taking hold of the man’s shoulder. “You can hate me for this, but you need me. You know you need me, or she might not… She needs US. Together. And I need…” He felt like the words were strangled in his throat, trapped as he glanced behind him to Grey. “Please… Let’s all take a breath, let’s get her as comfortable as we can and make a plan. We need a plan. I should call Eva, ****, she is going to be unimpressed.” He’d let his hands fall away, starting a short pacing circuit in the narrow space between the three of them, back and forth, muttering to himself in his native tongue. By that point, certain things would be clear to his companions, the most prominent that he was swearing. Profusely.

After a few moments of contemplation he stopped abruptly, turning sharply on his heel to face Grey, looking down into those eyes that too often flashed an enticing gold. Closing the distance felt like second nature, hands cupping the man’s face and pressing to his lips a fierce kiss, short and imbued with a million thoughts he couldn’t express. “Ich brauche dich, weil ich… Ah, kännen du mir diese dummheiten verzeihen?” He murmured amidst feather light brushes of lips, not bothering to correct himself and speak the sentiment in English. Should he have to? No, it was all there, for anyone to see. Affection, promise and apology.

Kaspar was determined, afraid and in… He cared, he cared about these people and what happened to them.


<Grey Weston> His gaze locked with Adley’s briefly. I don’t want anything from you. The words caught in his throat, the weight of them suffocating. Haven’t you done enough? Selfish. They were all so unbearably selfish. He barely registered the sting as his nails bit into the skin of his palms, fingers curling into fists, the skin of his knuckles blanching in an echo of the rage that simmered just beneath the surface of Adley’s skin. Only in glimpses; like flashes of heat lightning. “You --” he started, voice pitched low. Complete tool. The words threatened; the pressure of them gradually mounting, like a can of soda suddenly given a vigorous shake. “That’s not how it works,” he settled on, his voice cracking slightly. The words were wire taut; breaking with the strain of keeping his temper in check. He loathed him in that moment. It was an aimless emotion; spent as quickly as it surfaced.

“She is,” he settled on, curtly. The words were flat, inflection even. Cold. It lacked the harshness that he deserved; only a hushed resignation. He flinched at the frail plea that fell from Indigo’s lips; recoiled even as she sank back against Adley. The brush of Kaspar’s fingers against the back of his neck diverted his attention. He allowed himself to be drawn in; frame tense, etched with defiance for the space of a breath. The situation was rapidly deteriorating; tearing open old wounds that been poorly sutured from the start. “She can’t help her,” he said abruptly, speaking over the anxious tumble of Kaspar’s words. It was a situation beyond Eva - whoever she was. The circumstances were different; unlike what Kaspar had experienced.

[Grey Weston]

<Grey Weston> “You have about twenty minutes - maybe less - before her fever spikes.” He jerked away from Kaspar, his gaze distant, thoughts racing. “Which gives you maybe four to find something to put between her teeth before her jaw locks. Something that won’t break. Kas--” He started. His words were cut off as Kaspar wheeled, turning to face him. The barest tremor ran through him as his hands rose to cup his face. I can’t. I can’t, I can’t -- The hard crush of Kaspar’s mouth against his own silenced the jumbled thoughts that crowded his mind. He exhaled against his lips; blindly following them, as if he could breathe him in. There was no echoing urgency to his return kiss; they were soft, lingering. A low, defeated chuckle slid from his throat; overwhelmed. Words weren’t necessary.

“I’m going to see what I can find.” He said quietly. He reached for him, one hand lifting to grip his wrist. “I’ll be back.” Because he needed the assurance; something to ground him, to prevent the ground from splitting underneath him. He pulled away a second later, moving towards the doorframe. He slowed as he neared Adley; gaze fixing on him. “...I’m sorry.” The words were unexpected. He wasn’t entirely sure which of them the apology was for, or whether they deserved it. Did it matter? He wasn’t convinced.


<Adley Reed> At least Adley and Grey agreed on one thing - they didn’t need Eva, whoever Eva was. Of course Adley knew that Eva was Kaspar’s sire, but she wasn’t a woman he had ever met, and the last thing he wanted was another stranger in their home, overseeing what should be an intimate and moving moment, a turning point in Indigo’s life. A huge turning point.

Yes, Adley could concede that Indigo’s sudden wilting swoon was something to be concerned about, but Kaspar’s reaction was a little over the top. Adley was confident that they could make this work, and Indigo had made it pretty clear. Whether or not she had kissed him, bitten him with the intention of being turned tonight didn’t matter. It was happening. And she had made it perfectly clear that she was ready. And whether or not Kaspar agreed, that didn’t matter either. This was Indigo’s choice. Hers, and hers alone.

Until that moment, until he felt how hot Indigo’s skin was, Adley hadn’t realised the severity of the situation. His only naivety was in assuming that a few drops wouldn’t do any harm. But as soon as he felt the fever on Indigo’s skin he understood. It was something he himself had gone through - days of it, weeks all up, acclimatizing to the blood and its effect on his system. Too little was not enough to turn her, but it was trying anyway. Too little was more dangerous than too much.

The apology from Grey should have meant something, and maybe it would later. But Adley was still riding on the coattails of his fury, and in that moment it wasn’t appreciated. In one sweep, he had Indigo up in his arms, her body feather-light as he sought to carry her to the bed. Kaspar might disagree at the touch, might think Adley shouldn’t be touching her at all. But she had sought his body for support, and he wasn’t going to abandon her now.

“I don’t hate you! I’m angry with you, but that doesn’t mean I hate you,” he said. Ignoring Grey was better than any other reaction - his focus was on Indigo, rather than on starting a fist-fight with the man who thought he knew what to do. No, Grey was right. What he had suggested was the right thing to do for a certain situation, but this was not it. Adley moved back toward the bedroom, Indigo in his arms. His voice travelled over his shoulder as he went.

“We’re not riding this out.You heard her. You know what she wants. I need YOU, Kaspar, because I can’t drain her. We’re doing this now,” he said. There was no question in his tone, just pure determination. Perhaps it was a foolish confidence, but it was confidence nonetheless. They would turn her tonight.


* Indigo heard Grey’s voice say something about having twenty minutes before her fever spiked. The rise of body heat mentioned was no longer hidden beneath her skin. He seemed to have been through this, aware of what she was discovering first hand and apparently had no control over. It was new to her and the proof was peppering the surface of her skin from head to toe. She plucked at the material that clung to her damp skin hoping to hide the appearance of the moisture beneath the thin cotton. That spent more energy than she had to waste. Wasn’t that supposed to be a sign of a fever breaking?

Her hands trembled as the weakness won out, the weight of her relying more than ever on the fact that Adley would be there if she dropped. Her eyes hooked on Kaspar. She felt like she had ran a marathon and lost. Not just that...but that there were three witnesses that could attest to the fact that she had bitten off far more than she could ever chew. Her mouth was drying out, the moist relief her tongue was expected to provide left a rough dry caress across her lips. She needed water...something to bring her back.

Just as she tried to swallow the attempt stimulated the nauseating pool of bile that was ready to boil up and demand it’s inevitable release. It was denied. She held it in with all she had. When she blinked her lids were like sand paper. Her eyes felt like yolks cooking in their respective sockets as if the bone around each was a ring of fire cradling them until there was nothing left to fry. Her indigo orbs were able to calm and cool many things but this would not be the case this time and she knew it. She had started this and now there was a process foreign to her beginning to take place in a body that up until that point she was the sole possessor of. The reality was starting to sink in beyond Grey’s prediction. It belonged to what was invading it and she was going to die. A kiss could be deadly after all.

Suffice to say Indigo’s knees felt weak, too weak to expect the upper portion of her body to stay upright while they buckled.There he was. Adley catching her as she went up in flames and plummeting to the earth all at once. It was the second time he was coming to her rescue and this time Kaspar was with him. If it was the end and she wasn’t coming back it was bittersweet. In their arms she would be, where she belonged.

The motion of her weightless body was brief as Adley carried her back to the bedroom. The scent of him stronger, the coolness of his skin on the boiling slick surface of her own a small relief but temporary as he released her to the bed. His words spoke for her at that moment. How much more did she need to do to prove she wanted this, needed it especially now that some process was indeed in effect.

“Please…” She croaked out the plea and that was sort of what it was coming down to. A plea. The way she felt was not at all what she expected to feel. “I feel so sick.”


<Kaspar> A scream felt like it was clawing it’s way up his chest, settling in the hollow of his throat. Born of desperate frustration it fought to be freed into the world, to escape the prison of his trembling frame. He wanted to silence them all, to slam his hands against his ears and sing to drown them out. He wanted to just tSTOP. Why couldn’t they just stop? The brief grip on his wrist had him staring bereft after Grey, skin burning where his touch had been as if he might just become adrift without that steady reminder that he shouldn’t let the tide of his emotions carry him. The possibilities swam through his mind, his two wayward lovers seemed content to go in blind, to assume and hope for the best, when all he wanted was a moment to discuss what needed to be done. They acted as if he didn’t know what was coming, as if he was arguing against it. The urge to drive his fist into Adley’s jaw had never been stronger, nor the desire to grab Indigo by the shoulders and give the woman a single firm shake. Wake up, he wanted to scream, to hammer the concept into her skull until something caved in. She seemed utterly oblivious, utterly unaware of how easy it would be for him to kill her, to pick her to pieces and not be able to put her back. There were own humpty dumpty, and she was falling fast to dash to pieces. All the King’s horses, and all the King’s men couldn’t save her if he fucked this up.

“Adley, you… **** you. I know, I KNOW what we are doing but I don’t… You may not care to pause and think, but I do. I NEED to, or I am USELESS to you both. Do you understand, arschloch? Just give me a goddamn minute to get my head straight and think this through. Let me… ****, i’ll be back.” He’d found himself walking up the hall after them, he wasn’t going to argue against his hold on the woman. Why should he? She was dead anyway, that was the truth of it. She was dead, because he was going to kill her. Adley was asking him to murder this delicate woman and let him bring her over, let him take her to himself and hope she came back as the glorious creature she wanted to be. What if that didn’t happen? What if instead of a shared blame, having another there doing the deed, it was just Kaspar? Alone, with a corpse and Adley’s fury. Where the **** was Jameson? Gone, he was gone and now it was just them.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, you don’t know what you’re telling me I NEED to do.” His lungs burned with the effort to force air in and out, the motion soothing if altogether useless. “I have to be the one to kill her, you get to be the saviour, Adley on his white horse. Please. Don’t you tell me one more time of how much you love her, how much you want her because I KNOW. And I know what it’s going to cost me. I’m going to go outside, I’m going to BREATHE before I have to drown in her blood.” His strides carried him across to Indigo’s side, a cool palm stroking against her curls, her cheeks. “Caramel, you hold on, you just think of beautiful things and I will do my best to make this…” Better? Ok? He wasn’t sure, but he let that soothing, sing-song tone colour his voice. Soon, it would no longer soothe her in the same way, soon she wouldn’t fall under his spell in that all-too-human manner.

“I don’t know, but I will do my best, for you always. You know this, ja? Ich liebe dich, Indigo. I… Love you, you are family. I’m sorry that this is the way you have chosen for this to happen, we could have made it beautiful. We will make sure you come back to us, and I will try to take your pain.” The words hovered between them as he withdrew, sparing Adley a final firm look, his jaw tensed beneath gritted teeth. There was nothing left he could say, no words of comfort or of rage that would suffice to encompass how he felt. Indigo didn’t witness the quiet battle within him, a glimpse of it in his gaze as stormy blue eyes bore into Adley’s. It was his to endure alone.

There was no logical reason to follow Grey, nor to take hold of the shorter man, tugging him fiercely into an embrace that carried them both through the open doorway, stumbling down the stairs into the dark night. No reason to murmur desperately to him, in words he couldn’t understand, in a language he’d teased sounded like sneezing. Yet, here they were, Kaspar’s mouth finding his with a soft yearning, a silent plea. It was only when they broke apart a few moments later, the blonde man gasping for unnecessary air that he spoke sense.

“Grey, it’s happening. You heard it, she made her choice and we promised her. I have to stay here, I have to see this through. And I know that you aren’t going to be happy about it.” His arms stayed locked around the man, keeping him close, allowing Kaspar time to finish what he needed to say. “I can’t know what might happen, but I have to try.” His nose nudged to Grey’s, head tipping so their foreheads met to create the illusion of privacy, of intimacy where they stood under streetlights. He felt as if part of him was being carved out, leaving a hollow space desperate to be filled. It built up a familiar ache behind his eyes, an insidious creeping sensation that threatened to overwhelm his senses. Were he human a migraine would no doubt have his brain feeling like it were throbbing inside his skull. “Liebchen, i’ll crawl home to you. I’ll bare bones, that promise I made and I will keep. Just give me this? Let me have this.” It was too late to argue, too late to form more words.

He had to go, Grey had to let him and Kaspar felt torn to his very core.


<Grey Weston> He hadn’t gotten far. His steps carried him midway down the the hall before he sank against the wall. The plaster was cool against his skin; a focal point as the rise and fall of Kaspar’s voice buffeted the the foundations of the narrow space, carving its way to the very core of the house. Maybe it would crack in half; shred like the delicate tissue paper of a wasp’s nest. Maybe this would be the tipping point that finally brought it crashing down around them. He drew in shallow, steadying breaths, trying to ignore the stutter of his pulse; how the plaster seemed to swell behind him as if the walls struggled to draw breath through punctured lungs. He tried not to think about the look on Kaspar’s face when he pulled away. How small he seemed. How lost. So utterly uncharacteristic for a man who life struggled to contain.

He’d loved a man like that before. Helplessly. Desperately. But the trouble with loving them was that all that heat - all that radiance - bleed out so quickly. It didn’t matter how tightly you pressed your hands against the crack that formed underneath their ribcage; it didn’t matter how desperately you tried to stem the flow with the cage of your fingers. They’d flicker out. Leave their lovers cold. And the world would seem that much darker, that much smaller for it. Here he was again; in over his head. Always. Here he was again, falling for someone who --- he shied away from the thought, a small sound catching in his throat. It was halfway between a laugh and a sob. He wanted it to be over.

He was tired of losing to them. He straightened at Kaspar’s approach. He wanted to make excuses, to ask questions. He wanted Adley and Indigo to wake up and understand that they were tearing Kaspar apart; weighing heavily on every inch of him, scattering him in too many directions; to impress upon them the magnitude of what they were asking. Kaspar would have to bear the blame if things went wrong. Even if they didn’t, it would be a death - an end - on his conscious. It was ********. All of it. He wanted him. He didn’t fight Kaspar’s hold as his arms curled around him, tucking him close. He allowed himself to be lead in their half-drunken stumble down the stairs, yielding to the murmurs close to his ear; too fast to follow, even if he’d been able to make any sense of them.

His feet barely touched the pavement before Kaspar’s lips were on his. There was an urgency to the kiss; a sharp yearning. It wasn’t the bruising desperation he’d expected; filled with a heat that words couldn’t match. This was different. The kiss of a drowning man. Grey obliged; exhaling oxygen into Kaspar’s dormant lungs, as if that would be enough. Enough to salvage the night, enough to keep him afloat in his sea of thoughts. His hands rose to grip his sides, fingers slowly tightening their grip, tangling in the fabric of his shirt. His kiss was feather-soft; echoing the quiet pleading in Kaspar’s own. Don’t.

He tensed as Kaspar spoke. A brittle, frustrated sound rose in his throat; it escaped as shaky laughter, gasping and tense. He bit it back, forcing himself to focus, to listen, when every part of him was screaming with disbelief. “I *******…” He started, the words thick, mildly garbled. “I ******* hate this city.” It was hushed. Defeated. He wanted to say more; to scream how predictable this was. How it was the most they could look forward to; a short life with violent ends. That he was tired of it. Tired of them. Tired of competing with dead men and women when he was right ******* there and alive and so unprepared to watch someone else twist themselves into something unrecognizable. “We could go.” He exhaled instead. “Right now. We could get in the car and just…” Just what? Drive until they hit the city limits. It’d be pointless. He knew that. He knew they’d just end up here again, one way or another. “You don’t.” He said softly, as Kaspar’s forehead tipped to rest against his. “This is Adley’s mistake. His **** up. Not yours. You shouldn’t have to…” He faltered, drew in a breath. “You shouldn’t have to.” The words were whispered. He could practically taste the conflict on the other man’s breath. The desperation for understanding. How much more could he afford to lose? “Kaspar…” It was his name. Nothing more. The weight of three simple words buried within it. His grip tightened as he took a careful step back. Not further up the sidewalk, but towards the direction they’d come from. He didn’t want to stay. But it would have been worse to let him face it alone. “I’ll wait.”

[Adley Reed]

<Adley Reed> It was always going to have to be this way. Regardless of whether it was now or whether it was in the future; they had mentioned it, had offered the notion that Adley would be the one to give her the blood, the one whose blood would turn Indigo. Wasn’t it Kaspar who had made the suggestion, or was it something that Adley had imagined? Knowing that Adley himself couldn’t succeed in the first requirement of a turning - draining the turnee of their blood - it was assumed that Kaspar would do it. Kaspar and Jameson, though Jameson had disappeared, and could not help them in this endeavour.

This was the first Adley knew that Kaspar had any problem with the arrangement. He knew that Kas could be anxious, that he was overly concerned with Indigo’s certainty, painting every aspect of their immortality so that she had a full picture not only of the perks, but of the downfalls, too. For this, Adley was appreciative. There were no words, however, for Adley’s sudden incredulity, the shock at hearing the words erupting from Kaspar’s vocal chords in a tone that was clearly frustrated and furious. Adley was belittled by it; it caused his hackles to rise and his stubbornness to rear its ugly head. He didn’t like being told he was wrong, or that he was at fault. And right now, that’s all he was hearing. This was Adley’s fault. He was the bad guy. Any physical contact that he’d had with Indigo was abandoned; if Kaspar had stayed in the room, Adley might have told him to do it. To drown in her blood and feed it back to her. Kaspar could be the knight on the white horse, if that was really how he felt.

The harsh, bitter tone of Kaspar’s diatribe softened as soon as he focused on Indigo. We could have made it beautiful. These were the words that formed a knife, and the look that Kaspar gave to him was the thrust. It was the blame. In that look, Kaspar may as well have been saying We could have made this beautiful, but you fucked up. This is all your fault.

All fury dissipated. Adley didn’t like to admit when he was wrong, but when the realisation hit him, when he was willing to accept it, it hit him like a landslide. Indigo was fading away in the bed, her body on fire and sweat soaking through her clothes; she was gasping about how sick she felt, pleading them to help and Kaspar had gone outside to breathe. Adley could do nothing to help. He could only hinder. He couldn’t start the process; he couldn’t give Indigo more blood because that would only do more harm, or so he assumed. He couldn’t touch her for fear she’d pass out and go into some kind of coma. If he’d had hot blood running through his veins, it would have drained from his face, his body cold with dread.

And yet, he didn’t scream for Kaspar to come back. Kaspar needed air. Kaspar needed space. The gravity of the situation finally crushed Adley.

“I’m sorry,” he choked. All he wanted to do was hold Indigo and tell her everything was going to be okay, but he couldn’t hold her. He couldn’t comfort her in that way. The risk was too great.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasped. He wanted to pace. He wanted to sit in the corner like the bad person he was, and just stay away. Far, far away where he couldn’t do any more harm. But every time he looked at Indigo, he knew he couldn’t leave her. “Just hold on, okay? I’m going to get a cold cloth…” he said, before he darted into the bathroom, grabbing up a washcloth and soaking it in cold water.

“Just don’t touch me, okay? Don’t…” he breathed as he rushed back to the side of the bed, as he pressed the cloth to Indigo’s forehead, did his best to dab away the sweat and apply a cooling pressure to her hot skin. If she tried, he would move. He’d swat her away. He’d keep his distance.

Kaspar was right. He should never have let Indigo get so close.

* Indigo wanted to cup her hand around the base of his jaw, hook the fingertips beneath and guide his face a whisper away from her own. She wanted to remind him of the fact that this was what they had planned, discussed together...all four of them at various times. The scenarios were thought over, dissected but in the end all agreed each time when the time was right it would be. Well, the time was right. Couldn’t he see that? Kaspar? Would they doubt her if she said was dying, which she fully was aware she now was. She had been since she knew such a thing was possible. Naturally everything was born to die but was it selfish she wanted to make the life she loved, savored and fully lived in every moment with no regrets to last just as long as it possibly could?

It really had little to do with being in love with Adley. She asked for this before that admittance or discovery. What she felt for him obviously had huge impacts on what she would do with the dark gift once it was given. Her eyes burned for the release of moisture that should come with the moment but they had evaporated in the attempt to cool her down. There was a smile that surfaced across her pale, feverish lips. It was about the desire, the need to live in their world, be with them and even if things changed different paths were taken, just to be able to have that potential in her own grasp. This was a choice she was given, not forced upon her. The reactions around her, if she had the energy would have been fully addressed but it wasn’t possible. Kaspar was dealing with his own conflict, her introduction to Grey was to be memorable to say the least and Jay, of course was missing. She would have time to find him if it came to that...after all of this. Jay knew how she felt.

“I love you.” She struggled to get the words through her dehydrated lips. “If you say sorry again it will hurt worse.” She smiled despite the pain. “This is a gift. Don’t take it back. No matter what. I want this.” Her fingers went to move towards him but she gripped the bedding beneath and held on to it instead. “Kaspar will be fine. Everything will be…”

A sharp wave of revolution rushed through her body. Her muscles were on fire twisting with, a burn that set in signaling an all out war was raging beneath her skin. It was in that moment she knew she would be dying and wouldn’t get a fastpass for the eternal ride she was asking for from the two she loved more than the life she was about to leave behind. She would feel the unpleasant loss of it before she gained another. There was no way to candy coat it.

<Kaspar> There were times in your life where you had to make choices that might impact your own future or others so greatly that it would send everything spinning wildly in a different direction. Kaspar stood on the cusp of one such moment. It brought to mind a poem he loved, as so oft occurred with the creatively inclined man. Robert Frost once spoke of two roads, one well broken by the tread of time, the other wild and untraveled. Everyone must one day make that choice, and then proceed to make it again over and over for an eternity. Kaspar, for his all his planning and preparing, his diary keeping and documenting, still often chose the road untraveled. There was no decision left for him to make, even if he wished there were.

Indigo wanted this, and Kaspar would give it to her.

Grey's words had him crushing the man again to his chest, peppering those soft kisses over his pale features. In doubts he was not alone, he felt them thick in the air, could taste them on his tongue as it swept against the seam of Grey’s lips beseechingly. Doubts or no, he was going to go inside and he was going to deliver the dying blow. Kaspar would bring about fatality in the hopes of feeding back immortality. She would be Adley’s eternity, or so they seemed to hope and Kaspar the means to this end. So be it.

All too soon he was pulling away so that hands could hold and steer Grey once more through a doorway, and across a threshold he would no doubt curse with the heavy drag of boots. “You can stay with Bucket, he will love the company. You don't have to be in there… You don't have to see what needs to be done.” The words were whispered in the vain hope of offering reassurance, urging him to settle on the chaise lounge that Kaspar favoured and whistling for the already approaching blonde ball of fur to join him. A weariness took up residence in his frame, yet it was not allowed to settle, to find purchase upon his bones for there was no time to rest.

“Grey… I'll be back for you when it's done, we can curl up here together while he, well, until we know.” A brush of fingertips, brief against the line of his cheek bone and Kaspar was gone.

Upon return to the bedroom he reached for Adley, dragging the man to his chest in a manner that allowed little opportunity for argument. “Us, then. Together.” It was sealed with a forceful kiss to the corner of his mouth.

<Grey Weston> He didn’t resist as Kaspar gathered him to his chest. He doubted he could have if he’d wanted to. There was a gravitational pull between them, one that overrode the bitterness that cancerously embedded itself marrow deep. He tucked his face against Kaspar’s chest; breathing him in with sharp, shallow inhalations that carried an edge of desperation. It was as if he were trying to drink in the memory of him; of how he was in exactly that moment. To hold onto it for both of them, before everything changed. He responded to the kisses that dotted against his lips; offering comfort. If I could take it from you, I would. His lips parted under the gentle, insistent pressure of Kaspar’s tongue a handful of seconds later. It was almost enough to stifle the ragged noise that clawed at his chest; the urge to release the snarl of frustration that threatened. It would have been a cracked and spent thing even if he had; exhausted.

The echoing brush of his tongue was different; it wasn’t the usual frantic push for control, an aggressive tangle of wet muscle. It was caring; soothing. For a split second, a part of him wanted to reach out and jerk Kaspar against himself as the man pulled away. To defy. To question. Why should they get to be happy when they’ve torched someone else’s? **** him. **** her, too. He bit back the words; swallowed them, jagged edges and all. It didn’t matter that they caught and threatened to shred the lining of his throat. He couldn’t stop what had been put into motion. He could only offer support. He allowed Kaspar’s hands to guide him; accepting their steady push forward.

He wanted to scoff as he was eased onto the chaise; carefully positioned like an invalid. As if he might crumble apart in Kaspar’s hands if the man was too rough. He winced inwardly as Kaspar spoke. He was spared having to reply by the dog’s arrival. He wasted no time in leaping onto the furniture; the brunt of his weight settling onto Grey’s legs. Not content with that, the dog wormed his way further up, movements steady, feathery tail sweeping from side to side. Seconds later, he found himself pinned in place; Bucket’s front legs framing either side of his neck. “Bucket...jesus,” he groaned, the words half-gasped. The dull drumming of the dog’s tail as it beat against the chaise undercut his words.

His hands rose automatically, burying into the thick, silky fur of the dog’s neck, fingertips massaging steadily. “We’re going home,” he said flatly. “As soon as we know. I’m serious.” His head turned, just enough to kiss his trailing fingertips. His attention was diverted by Bucket almost immediately after; the deep, contented grunting of the canine rumbling low in his chest. A thin noise -somewhere between a laugh and a sigh- tore free of his throat. “Missed you, too.”

<Adley Reed> Kaspar couldn’t have come soon enough. Indigo’s words did a small amount to soothe Adley’s broken ego, to put wind beneath his flagging spirit, but they were words that were followed by a tremor of pain. Adley could see the way it ripped its way through Indigo’s body; in fear he’d stood, pushed himself away if only to scream for Kaspar. But he didn’t have to. As if he knew exactly what was going on, as if he didn’t even have to try to have the best timing in the world, Kaspar was there.

It didn’t matter how angry Adley might have been at Kaspar. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to berate the other male for saying the things he had, Indigo was Adley’s priority right now. The fever was spiking and they needed to help her; this was not the time to focus on their disagreements. Those could be dealt with later.

There was no reaction from Adley to the forceful kiss pressed to his mouth. He was an unresponsive object in Kaspar’s grasp. He could smell Grey on Kaspar, and he idly wondered what had happened to the blood thief. Was he still there, waiting in the sidelines, or had he gone home? Adley could only assume that he and Kaspar had had words. Grey hadn’t come back, like he said he was going to. Which was a good thing - he wouldn’t have been welcome. Not by Adley. Not just yet.

And now that the blonde was there, Adley could take a step back. He could keep his touch as far from Indigo as possible so as not to endanger her further. He wouldn’t leave the room; he wouldn’t abandon Indigo right now. But he could at least keep his distance, and step in to help only if desperately required.

“She needs you,” he said, his voice broken.

“I do more harm than good. I didn’t know you felt that way. I fucked up. You can be the saviour on the white horse. You can salvage what’s left and make it beautiful for her,” he said, his arms hugging his own chest, hands flattened beneath his armpits, as if making himself as small as possible could keep any damage done to a minimum.

* Indigo felt like a blister roasting beneath the sun. The moisture was gone from the surface of her skin. Her mind was clawing in desperation for something tangible to cling to that would signal that what she felt at that very moment was the extreme of all the discomfort that she would have to experience. A draining movement of her body over the bedding beneath brought the brief contact of coolness in the material. It was quickly absorbed. Nothing brought relief anymore. She twisted again, her body curled into a ball then unfolded. A slow twist and writhing did nothing to release her knotted muscles.

The sounds of Kaspar returning scorched her mind with awareness. She straightened out her limbs and willed her body to fight against what was within for a little longer. It was as bad as it could get, right? The sounds of familiar words only registered. Each a reminder she was not alone and she was thinking any moment that could be what it came down to. No matter what happened there were two left to be there.

“Is this what it is?”

Her voice cracked, her mind racing with the possibility that this is what Kaspar was trying to make sure she avoided. Was this why she was warned to wait? It was going to get worse. No matter how much she bargained it away she knew that much about what she had just initiated. The fact the two in the room with her were talking, close by and not under the same effects meant it would end. It would get better. It had to be the same for her. Why wouldn’t it be?

Her legs came up, dragging the bare ball of each heel of her feet as they lifted to tuck her knees towards her stomach. Each long leg then went limp in exhaustion falling to the right as she turned again to rest on her side. Her heart was beating so fast and hard that she felt the throbbing of the force at her fingertips beneath each nail bed.

“Please…” She had so much more to say than that but her body needed that energy that was left. “Boo… Adley.” She never wanted to be this sick ever again. Ever. She would listen next time...if there was a next time.

<Kaspar> Adley Reed was a dead weight in his arms and Kaspar couldn’t rightly blame him. He may have been firm with them, but the proof of their mistake was currently writhing in agony on the bed. The lingering irritation was of no use to any of them but when he glanced at Indigo he felt the urge to reprimand, to make some cruel or smart arse remark about how glorious death was. It burned like acid in his chest, the words spilling into his mouth and he had to swallow them burning all the way back to pit of his stomach. It made him feel ill, physically and mentally, like this place was no longer healthy for him. He felt a stranger in a place he called home, an outsider as the two fought against his frustrations and defended each other.

Now there was a sense of defeat in the air, a depletion of energy and waning of will. It was something he couldn’t allow, if they were to succeed. It appeared a show of solidarity, a vague attempt at affection would not do the trick and it left him with only one choice. Indigo lay in the bed, begging for him to take it away, to make it better and here Adley stood acting as if he were feeling sorry for himself. His ego was finally punctured, a gaping wound that had him palming off the task as if he suddenly decided he were not fit for it. Kaspar was not in the mood, and he proved as such with one simple action.

The collision of hand to cheek caused a tingling sensation of pins and needles to cross the back of his hand, knuckles stinging as the sound rang sharply in his ears. Skin to skin, the force of the strike rattled Kaspar, his own strength alarming him. No time to apologise; not that he truly felt sorry for it anyway and he hated to be insincere. “Pull yourself together, arschloch. You are getting it. Go, wait outside if you cannot handle what i’m about to do to her. It’s not going to be… Pleasant for you to see.” He offered a reprieve, the best he could. “I can call you when it’s nearly time, then you just need to feed her… And let her body make the choice.” He freed himself from the man’s space, stepping away towards the bed, eyes trailing Adley until he felt it safe enough to turn his back.

Hel fully expected to find his *** sprawled on the ground once this was all over, jaw aching and out of place from the force of Adley’s fists. He’d welcome it, he’d want a brief interlude of ferocity where they could both unleash, could tear at each other until they were spent. It was enough of a desire that he had to actively fight the desire to turn and wrap his long fingers around the man’s neck, to drive his thumbs into the tender flesh of his throat, digging until he felt something give. It was alarming this train of thought, and yet he felt oddly numb to it, almost believed it to be a right or reasonable response. It was something he’d need to address, this streak of violence that was rearing it’s ugly head.

At the edge of the bed his knee pressed easily atop the bedding, sinking in to find balance before the other lifted to join it, Kaspar crawling cautiously across the large expanse until his weight was able to sink down behind Indigo. With practiced consideration he drew her into his embrace, folding her back against his chest as his own tall frame curled around her. He wore only a loose t-shirt and jeans, Kaspar kicking at the boots that weighed down his feet, socks following closely behind to the floor. He felt like his chest was caving in, hollow and empty, he imagined a stretch of darkness waiting to be filled. A deep inhale had him filling his lungs, tasting Indigo on the tip of his tongue, let his nose fill with her scent. Warm, human, soft and soon to be no more.

He’d miss her like this.

Perhaps he could no longer feel the same when she was other. Kaspar didn’t bring voice to this concern, instead a soft humming took up in the back of his throat. The tune familiar to her ear, no doubt, it was the lullaby he had written and sang nightly to his son. Fingertips found the cloud of curls, stroking with deliberate pressure to brush them back from her neck and allow air to flow over the feverish flesh. He was cool to the touch, and he ensured she felt as much of the exposed skin as possible. His breath resembled that of someone who had just sucked leisurely at an ice cube, letting it chill the damp cavern of one’s mouth before being exhaled against the burning places of a lover and this too he let her feel. His head bowed to her, to the Queen Bee as he began to sing her under his spell. Lips stroked patterns against her skin, shaping the words from jawline to clavicle and back. The lullaby was imbued with that soothing power, the kind that had humans trailing after him like rats after pipe.

It was used to lull her, to aid in her comfort as his mouth hovered over veins, tongue sweeping between words to taste the salt of her skin, to let the hunger for her essence rise within him. The song was drawing to an end, the final words dripping from his tongue with all the sweetness of honey while fangs made themselves bee stings in his mouth. “Gute nacht, und schlaf gut mein schatz. Sleep well, my darling.” Would be the last words to touch her ears, lest Adley had something to say.

He was ready to sting, to prick and pull until her life was gone and her immortality in another’s hands. To taste the sweet nectar, for the first and last time, this thing Kaspar would do.

<Adley Reed> Adley was caught off guard.

With his hands crossed over his chest and his eyes on Indigo - who’d so very briefly gasped her question, who was writhing on the bed - Adley didn’t see the backhand coming. Just about to step toward Indigo, just about to press that cold cloth to her forehead once more, his vision was instead blurred, bright stars dancing at the edges, as the sharp sting caused the nerves to dance. If he’d been paying attention, if his arms hadn’t been so knotted against his own chest, Kaspar would probably be on his *** - or would at least have a couple of bruises on his chest where Adley would have slammed the heels of his palms.

The first reaction would have been defensive; the next would have been to knock Kaspar’s lights out - which could have been defined as a defensive move, too.

By the time Adley had recovered, however, Kaspar had already stepped away. He’d no doubt have seen the way the muscles bounces in Adley’s jaw, his teeth grinding - the way his arms fell from his chest, his fingers curled into white-knuckled fists at his side. If Adley was feeling sorry for himself, it was Kaspar’s doing. He acted the way he did as an indication - stepping back was a way to show Kaspar that he was right. To Adley, it seemed that Kaspar had gone to great lengths to tell Adley this was his fault, and his doing. Admitting to it had only sparked violence. True remorse and sudden dread had been rewarded with a slap to the face, and Adley wasn’t yet far enough removed to appreciate it, or understand it. It had only served to widen the crack that had split the two men from each other as soon as Kaspar had issued his first judgment.

Adley couldn’t ask what it was that Kaspar wanted from him. It was obvious. They were all in this together. He had said as much, and Adley should have listened the first time - Kaspar couldn’t know the shattering effect his words and actions had had on Adley, otherwise he might have acted differently. Adley wasn’t wont to show his underbelly to just anyone; the fact he had done so with Kaspar was a matter of trust, and Kaspar had only thrust that blade deeper. The very notion that Adley wouldn’t be strong enough to witness what Kaspar was about to do was outrageous. Adley might have said so, he might have barked a rebuttal at Kaspar, but instead he bit his tongue. He bit the appendage hard enough to draw blood. If he opened his mouth to say anything, who knew what might come out?

For Indigo’s sake, he remained silent. He quite throwing daggers at Kaspar with his eyes and instead focused all his attention on their Queen Bee. This was not how he thought it would go; he had thought it was something Kaspar wanted. But that didn’t matter, did it? It was what Indigo wanted, and they would stick together for her sake. He went nowhere, but remained close, pacing the length of the bed but not once taking his eyes from Indigo.

Adley would be ready.

* Indigo heard the tone of the words shared between the two, the bite beneath their voices. It was like salt in her internal wound. It was in her heart. She felt the slightest regret only for that. The fact she was at the point she was wasn’t part of it, just that she managed to have been the seed that brought about the energy that was present unlike it had never been before. It was rooted between the very two she would do anything to spare being a source of pain or anger. There was no time left to apologize...for her being selfish. The sounds were lost in the air around her. It accompanied her while drifting further to the point she knew from which there was no return. She welcomed the coolness that was taking over. Heat required energy and she had little left to give.

[Kaspar]

* Indigo The bed beneath her felt as if it was dropping more than the weight of Kaspar’s body being applied. Her fingers released the bedding that was damp from her palms as she splayed her trembling fingers. The scent of him found her in the slow deep inhale she pulled in and she held it in. She never realized how it worked through her until that moment. His eyes. Her indigo pools found them and clung to the way they nearly washed away the pain as he came over her like he did so many times before. Her arms found him, her hands weak but able to curl to his neck as if she still had the strength to bring him closer to her so that no space was between them. The soothing caress of his lips as she knew such contact to be was coupled with the sound of the unmistakable lullaby. Her chest was heavy with awareness, tightening as the sounds that Will always heard before he closed his precious eyes while in Kaspar’s arms found their way to her ears. Heavy, weak lids dropped taking away the view of Adley intermittently. There was no avoiding it with the song vibrating so sweet and soft against her skin.

A slow series of soft gasps for air or to perhaps swallow back the ache of letting go slipped through her lips. She knew she would find them again. If it wasn’t when she woke then she would be with them always. Everytime she closed her eyes to rest they were there in her dreams. Her lips dusted Kaspar’s ear, a warm sigh released around the shell of cool flesh, her nose brushing at his neck while her fingers hid in his hair. Her eyes stayed on Adley, her hands on the one who would hold her through death. Her angels who rescued her from near death the first time were about to do it all over again.

“Beautiful…” That would be the last of her voice as it went faint. It was starting to feel like she imagined, hoped for it to be. She was ready. Ready to die and come back. There would be no goodbyes.

<Kaspar> It took little pressure before the familiar pop of skin parting beneath the points of his fangs was felt, blood rushing eagerly from the wounds. The taste of her blood had his jaw locking into place, lips sealing to not let a single precious drop escape from the sweep of tongue, eagerly lapping up the liquid. It was hot, sweet and tasted as he’d always imagined. It made him sink into a memory of strolling through a carnival, fingers sticky from all variety of treats, caramel apples and hot buttery popcorn, fairy floss and soft doughy pretzels. Honeyed cakes, the kind that melted in your mouth and you knew would cause cavities if you nibbled on them too long. There was a richness to her blood, something deeper beneath the sweetness, something warm and full bodied that had a small, stifled moan of delight leaving Kaspar.

Had he not been fully immersed in his task he may have been mildly bothered by how easy it was by, how good her blood felt filling him. It was sunshine again, the warmth of a lazy day spent enjoying a picnic by the river, the sound of laughter in your ears and wine on your lips. It was intoxicating, and for once he had no need to stop, the intention was to take all of her, almost every last drop until he could hear the heart growing faint.

He listened, tilting his head, golden man brushing her skin as he listened for the approaching end. The soft patter of her heart, the thick sound of it straining to bump more blood even as he drained it was enough to give him pause, the man forcing himself to continue. Eyes opened, stormy blue seeking Adley’s in silent communication. SOON. Kaspar loosened his jaw, letting the pull of blood slow, the second ticking by as his swallowing become thicker, the blood feeling heavy in his mouth, like he might drown in it. It become cloying, too sweet, too sickly and rich on his tongue. He’d had enough, but there was more to take. Kaspar did not share Adley’s blood lust, he could take just enough to sustain him and walk away, no need to glut himself, no desire to see it paint his skin, to flood out over the bedding and let it bathe him. He was after no baptism of blood, it was after all why he’d been given the precious task of taking him into her.

She felt so tightly as he tugged her to his chest, curling the woman in against him as the warmth slipped from her body, mouth working over the wounds to ease the blood flow. Another pointed look, a hand reaching out for the beautiful man that hovered, prowled like some great cat at the foot of the bed. NOW.

Thud… Thud… Th…

It was time. It was over.

<Adley Reed> They were beautiful together, even in death. The way Kaspar calmed Indigo, the way she relaxed in his expert grasp - it was entrancing. Watching Kaspar feed inspired a blood lust in Adley that was easily quashed and pushed aside for the sake of Indigo’s life. This was the moment that it hung in the balance; the atmosphere surged with tension, with anxiety. And with excitement. Regardless of how stubborn Adley felt, regardless of how angry he was with Kaspar, he couldn’t deny that he’d wanted this for a long time. He’d never told Indigo, he’d never pushed. This was a decision she had to come to on her own. But as patient as Adley could be, he couldn’t wait to be able to hold Indigo in his arms. Yes, she would be like him, like Kaspar. She would be cold, her skin like porcelain. But she would be no less beautiful, no less radiant. Adley did not think that she would be losing anything. Instead, she would only be gaining. She would become an immortal goddess, and they would worship her.

Adley did not have to be told when the time was right. He, too, was listening to the sound of Indigo’s heart. If he had a beating heart of his own it would have increased its drumming rhythm to make up for Indigo’s lack. As soon as Kaspar caught his eye, Adley was on the bed, crawling over Indigo and deepening the wound that he’d bitten into his tongue earlier. The blood filled his mouth as he pressed his lips to hers, his tongue swiping over her lower pout as he kissed her. Hard and fast, and yet slow and insistent, he kissed her to force the blood to spill from his mouth to hers. With his hands on her thighs, her waist, his fingers scraping over her skin, begging her to respond, to stay strong, to come back to them.

Any misgivings that Adley might have had about getting close to Kaspar had dropped off the radar, and all anger had evaporated. He and Kaspar were together in this; Indigo was theirs. They both loved her, and she loved them both.

As soon as he got the slightest response from Indigo, Adley slid sideways., nestled in beside Kaspar, his arm slipping behind the other man. The three of them easily fit on the oversized bed. Adley lifted a wrist to his mouth, tearing a gaping wound into the skin over the vein, blood spilled over his lips, over his skin, but he barely flinched as he held the fount against Indigo’s plumps lips.

“C’mon, Bee,” he said, voice breaking from his throat as if it were newborn. No anger, no bitterness, just add desperate, passionate plea. He didn’t have to say anything else. They’d already talked about what needed to happen. Indigo knew what she needed to do.

* Indigo melted beneath Kaspar. Each slowing beat of her heart pulled her down a little more. Where most would fight she surrendered to what she had asked for coming to her in his arms. Each push of the chambers in her heart weakened. Each dying one effectively less insistent to continue on. Slowing its task and closer to a premature rest. The flawless organ lost the predictable and solid rhythm that had been at play for just a little over twenty short years of the young woman’s life.

For the first time it was absent of the promise that once guaranteed another would be following behind. The awareness that everything was going to have to end to begin again was serene, peaceful and it was painless. There was no longer a fear of what if and when. Just like her last spoken word carried in the warm whisper through her fading lips. Beautiful it was and the presence of both of them holding her, touching her made it so.

Indigo’s blues floated heavenward beneath the weight of her lifeless lids. A last beat and in the time it would be a record for her to hold her very last breath she absorbed the rush of what was left to savor in her death. Kaspar’s touch, the retraction of his penetrating bite, the burn of his release taking with him the last of life that she had left to give on his tongue and lips. She died in his arms.Then and there when all was to be done and over came the one who promised to replace what she had freely given to her sweet Boo. Her life was his to consume so that Adley could summon forth the next.

With the cool press of lips that would never taste like any other she left. She felt the drifting into a darkness that was not alarming. She knew she could stay if she wanted. Lingering briefly there where there was no more pain, no more loss. No promises to make or to keep. Everything could remain just as it was and she would never have to let go again, no tears to leave, no heartbreak to recover from.

Yet Indigo stirred. A place within where no one but her was ever meant to see woke in protest shaking her free of the content hold that was trying to settle over her. This...whatever she was in that moment was not enough. The sweetness lacing the fading edges of her consciousness was intense. It called for her to come back. Demanding her to take more than she ever had before. The movement of her tongue tangling in a weak wrap and roll with the one who let go to say her name inspired the rest of her to come back in a slightly different manner.

Where she had been so weak she felt as if an energy beyond any lucid moment she could ever recall flooded through her. It wasted no time in tugging at all that she was and yanking her until the taste of blood was so overwhelming that she felt the power of it feeding her in ways she was not prepared for. It was like fresh clean air. The warmest ray of sun. Hours long perfect sex on the darkest coldest night with an overdose of heaven remaining on the surface of her tongue. All she had to do was swallow it down and more came to her. She could taste everything she had yet to see. Her trembling hands gripped tight and held on as she consumed all that she could. Then and there her lids jumped upward and it was as if her eyes had opened for the first time to a clarity that would take her breath away....if she had one left to give. And then she fell hard...harder than before. What goes up must come down and she crashed like she was block of cement and there was nothing but air beneath her. Everything as beautiful as it was went black, her body went limp and with it her lips fell open.

<Kaspar> They had kept her alive, ensuring there was enough blood pumping through her system just to keep the heart working faintly in her chest, for Adley’s touch, for his blood against her mouth to invigorate her and work through her body while Kaspar hovered nearby, mouth softly clasped around the still open wound for the last step.

The end of it all.

As Adley fed his blood to her, as he opened his wrist for her waiting mouth Kaspar bowed his head to once more cover her throat with his mouth, pulling out the last of her humanity with each deliberate suck. Death would be swift, and replaced shortly by life but it would take time, it had taken quite a while for him to be able to return, to reach up and touch the beautiful face of his sire, of his saviour. It had crossed his mind that Adley’s touch might still have a negative impact but it was too late to worry about that, his blood was within her and Indigo would have to take it or leave it. His hands stroked down her frame, soothing even though she would no longer feel it, no longer feel anything quite the same way as she had.

When he pulled back he saw her there, mouth open, lips parted as if wanting to speak or asking for more but to slack to be doing either. Her eyelids were mostly closed, though they remained the tiniest fraction open, it was beyond eery. With trembling fingertips he reached to close them fully, to let his lips brush against her features so gently, so tenderly they were like a prayer. Come back to us, don’t let this be the end. I cannot be the one to have killed you forever. Adley was there, waiting for her to sit up and start talking, but Kaspar knew that might not be quite how it went and so reached out, gripping the man’s shoulder. “Give her time, love, it may take time. Be patient, I know how difficult that is to ask of you, but… Look, I will give you a minute alone, just talk to her softly, tend to her and give her a chance for your blood to… Work.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something and with a rough tug he pulled Adley close enough to press a firm kiss over his brow. “I’ll be back soon, I just need… It was a lot of blood, I need to move and… It was a lot.” His words didn’t make a huge amount of sense, they felt awkward and heavy in his mouth, he pushed them out in an all too German manner. Heavy on the consonants, breathing over the vowels as if they weren’t substantial enough to grasp, the staccato rhythm much more appealing. He crawled from the bed, feeling like his limbs were too long to properly control, taking a moment to decide on the best way to move them forward, allowing them to carry him into the lounge room.

The floor seemed as good a place as any to sit and so he did, slumping down heavily onto the ground, head rocking back until it knocked against Grey, cheek turning to press into the man so that his face was towards him, nose inhaling sharply to breathe in his scent. “I feel like… Like Will must feel when he’s had too much milk, like i’m drunk on the sheer amount and need to just… Sleep it off, or move and bounce until it goes to the places it should.” He wriggled his fingers and toes, stretching them out as if it might help to move the blood down there and away from his throat, where he imagined to much of it cling. It was becoming sickly in his mouth, she was too sweet, she was too… He’d taken too much, and she was dead. “Is she though?” He said it aloud, his voice thick, heavy as if with sleep but he wasn’t about to curl up and nap.

It was the strangest feeling, and part of him wanted to bite into his own flesh, to tear it open and force the wound to Indigo’s mouth, to go back in there and give it all back to her, or perhaps ask Grey to take it instead. Maybe Adley? No, he should give him time.

“Hungry? I’m not, I don’t want it. Adley should have this. Adley should take her from my veins. Let him. He should…” Was that English? It didn’t sound right, and he clicked his tongue disapprovingly at himself, he was struggling to form his r’s and w’s were turning to v’s. Silence was better, less effort he figured and he sat there, pursing his lips, pushing them together as if to make the statement to the world that he was simply done with speaking.

He was simply done in general.

<Adley Reed> Everyone was different.

Adley’s siring had been… well, unexpected. Spiked with different kinds of pleasure, peppered with pressure and climax and release. Only when his innards twisted and curled and snapped did he understand that something was wrong; darkness hadn’t been his friend. The death of each organ was felt and suffered. In the middle of the floor on an unfamiliar boat, rocked by a storm both inside and out, Adley had writhed in a pool of his own vomit - and probably much worse. His human body rid itself of every fluid it no longer needed. Blood was the be all and end all. Blood was all it needed. The give and take of the turning blood had, itself, been a pleasure. That was what he chose to remember. For hours he had suffered, and when he slept, it was because the sun was in the sky. When he woke during the night-time hours, he was more alive than he had ever been. The world had changed. The world had changed, because isn’t the world a mere projection of one’s own consciousness?

Relief was paramount as soon as Indigo clutched at Adley’s arm; as she responded enough to swallow, to gulp the new life that he offered to her, he assumed that they were home free. He assumed that her eyes would stay open, and although she might suffer the same as he had, he and Kaspar would be there to help her, to hold her hair back from her face, to hold her through the gruelling process. Adley had had Abelle, and although he struggled to remember the features of her face now, the softness of her touch had soothed him, and had helped him through.

When Indigo instead slumped, passed out, lips slack and cold, Adley was confused. Already he was leaning forward, he was ready to grab hold of her shoulders and shake. Panic was soothed by Kaspar’s sudden reassurances, though the anxiety remained steadfast, an undercurrent that pinned Adley to the spot even as his temple was tugged roughly to Kaspar’s lips. Where Kaspar was over-full, Adley felt empty. A little gaunter than his usual Necromantic self, his eyes a little too bright, his lips dry. And it wasn’t just blood that he was missing. He was numb, floating without a lifeline.

A dumb nod was given to Kaspar, but by the time it was given Kaspar had left the room. Adley took up position behind Indigo. With his legs sprawled out on either side of her, her back against his chest, he settled.

And yet he was not calm.

Kaspar’s anger and his accusations had filled Adley with doubt, with remorse. He couldn’t shut his mind down; he couldn’t stop from wondering. Adley’s diet was not the usual. He didn’t drink human blood, but vampire blood. His touch was poison. Would any of this hinder the turning process? Was he vampirically infertile? Was Indigo dead?

No matter how much his fingers ran lengths up and down her arm, he couldn’t comfort himself. There was no pulse. Heat slipped from her body like the lingering warmth of day from an empty room with broken windows. Her body was a dead weight, and Kaspar was wrong. Adley didn’t want to be alone with this, with his doubts. The two men should have been able to comfort each other, and reassure each other. Kaspar’s fullness could have alleviated Adley’s emptiness; the only chance for Adley to know Indigo’s warmth, her heat, was to taste the remnants that now nestled in Kaspar’s veins. They could have shared this. They could have made it beautiful. Indigo was theirs - she should be theirs. And yet Kaspar was distant. Kaspar wanted distance.

Adley’s cheeks were wet with tears he didn’t know he was shedding. He sucked in a shaking breath, and tried to soothe Indigo rather than himself. Or maybe he was trying to soothe the both of them.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said. Meaningless words. “You’re going to wake up. You’ll wake up, and we’ll get through this. You’ll bring us together. You always were good with words…” he said. “... I’m going to burn this house down if you don’t wake up, Bee. You really don’t want me to burn the house down…” he said. And he didn’t stop. A never-ending stream of words, flipping between what they would do when she woke up, to what he would do if she didn’t. And with each passing minute, the pressure of his anxiety grew, and grew, until it felt like a stone was lodged in his throat. Eventually he couldn’t speak anymore. He could only try to swallow the lump that wouldn’t subside.

<Grey Weston> The minutes that marked Kaspar’s absence seemed impossibly long, fraught with tension as fine as piano wire. The silence was oppressive; something thin and quaking with a humming with the strain of their collective moods. Bucket was the first to notice his return, acknowledging Kaspar with the sharp cut of his eyes and a slow, thumping wag of his tail. The sound was muffled; the broad sweep of his tail trapped against Grey’s thigh. Beyond that, the Golden didn’t stir. His head was pillowed against Grey’s chest, muzzle stretching to nearly tuck underneath the man’s chin, blindly seeking refuge from the shift in the household’s atmosphere and the changes it would bring. It took a moment for Bucket to realize something was...off. His head rose sharply from Grey’s chest a handful of seconds later, eyes slanting as his ears fell. His posture went briefly rigid. Uncertain, as if he anticipated a blow.

“Bucket. Off.” The command prompted a shift as Bucket’s weight resettled, rocking slightly against the man’s outstretched legs. “Bucket!” His voice rose, the tone sharp with a mixture of both impatience and warning. He felt the barest twinge of guilt at the responding flinch of the canine’s shoulder, the puzzled look askance that betrayed the dog’s own sense of both unease and mild betrayal. “Down.” He took care to soften the command; to weaken the steel that lined the edges. There was no hesitation from Bucket as he rose to his feet, leaping neatly onto the floor. He drew closer to Kaspar, hovering briefly, the chill of his wet nose finding the crook of the man’s neck and nudging sharply. Despite the slow wag of the dog’s tail, it was evident that concern etched every rigid line of his frame.

Grey didn’t speak immediately as Kaspar’s head leaned back to knock gently against his own. He leaned against an elbow, pressing close, one hand dropping to lightly cradle Kaspar’s head. Offering shelter. The whisper of forgiveness Kaspar desperately needed but could not give to himself. He shifted his grip a heartbeat later, his hands abruptly coming to rest on his shoulders, hauling him upright, tugging him onto the chaise with the last reserves of strength he possessed. He tucked him against himself, low, soothing sounds escaping his throat. They were devoid of meaning; not quite forming words.

Kaspar’s question registered belatedly; the words thick and clumsily shaped, slurring in a manner that left Grey drawing in a sharp, hissing inhale. Any other time, the question would have coaxed a hushed chuckle. It was curious, how both Jameson and Kaspar equated the tendency of a blood thief to drink as a hunger. There was an innocence in Kaspar’s question; a vague sentiment that he didn’t seem to fully realize he’d spoken. With Jameson it had only affirmed his belief that if there had been a distinction between the polar opposite of what the pair were, it was a pale one, at best. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

Blood thieves were merely humans who had clawed higher up the evolutionary chain. The easier answer would have been ‘no.’ He was not hungry. A part of him recoiled at the absent offer; briefly reviled by the thought of drawing what remained of her from Kaspar’s veins. It didn’t matter that he’d done it countless times before; swallowed the dregs of humanity long cooled. This was different. His head tilted back a moment later, lips finding the pale column of Kaspar’s throat, brushing gently. They rested against the hollow of his throat, as if he could feel the weight of Indigo’s blood that collected there. The heat of it. “No.” The word, though abrupt, was hushed. “He’s taken enough from you tonight.” His words were even and calm. “He needs to accept…” He didn’t kill her. “He doesn’t get to steal from you. Not when he couldn’t even murd --” He paused, the word choking off. “When he couldn’t even take the life of his own pseudo-girlfriend.” He doesn’t get to soak in what’s left of her. Of what she was. Maybe later Adley’s suffering would matter. Indigo may have belonged to them, but Kaspar was his. His concern. His top priority. “He is not touching you,” he ground out, the words a low hiss.

As if to punctuate the point - it was, after all, better to beg forgiveness than ask permission - the feather-light kisses he trailed up the man’s throat stilled, fingertips still forming soothing, mindless patterns across the skin of his back and shoulders. It took a handful of seconds to force that hunger - that instinct - to unfold. The familiar wet, stinging slide registered belatedly; the tips of Grey’s fangs grazing lightly along the curve of Kaspar’s throat. They sank home with an unexpected caution. He wouldn’t take all of it. At best, he’d simply draw the excess.

<Kaspar> There was mild comfort in the damp press of a nose to his neck, to the brush of silken gold fur as Bucket hovered near him. Absently Kaspar reached out, brushing fingertips over the golden strands before he was moving away, instead finding comfort in the man behind him. His head was cradled, close to Grey’s and Kaspar let his blue eyes slip closed, sinking further towards the ground, wanting to let himself rest. It was only after he’d spoken that he let the hands shifting, a firmer gripping pulling at him, forcing him upwards so that he had no choice but to follow the demands. He found himself lifted largely by another’s strength, only finding his own to support himself as he was tossed sideways onto the large white chaise. His long frame crawled over the man, finding a place to lay down, to curl in and around his smaller frame. He let himself be held, he touched and soothed with the loving caress. They fit together easily, each seeking to find the right way to lock limbs and allow space so that it worked, so that hands could stroke and touch.

He’d spoken again at some point, those words that dribbled free, too sharp and yet slurred all at once, let out as if he did not love them, did not care to give them body and meaning. Grey reacted, he felt the stiffening of his frame, the shift in his hold that said he’d understood the meaning. Was he angry? Had it been unkind to say? Most likely, Grey went between trying to dismiss his status as a Blood Thief and owning it the way he owned his other addictions, they were at his core and it was the way it was. That was it, straight up, no point fighting against it. It was refreshing in a way, that deliberate and direct honesty about who he was, what he was. It made it easier to know him, and yet all the more difficult.

[Indigo]

<Kaspar> There was awareness of his words, protest rising, Kaspar making a humming sound of disapproval. “But he won’t get to taste her, he couldn’t drink from her, he can only… I had to, and he can taste from me…” The effort to respond had him oblivious to the fangs that hovered so near, he was still taking comfort in the soft kisses, the tracing brushes of lips that had him shivering, his body responding even as his mind seemed to take time to catch up. There had been warning, hadn’t there? In Grey’s words?

Every inch of him, every movement seemed to scream “Mine”, a fierce protectiveness in the way he held Kaspar that would in any other circumstance feel small, young, and weak. Right now? It was everything, and it was home. It was the safe place to hide from the storm and he let his ship sail into harbour, to safer shores. Too bad he got caught on the rocks.

Pain.

Sharp, and brief, the initial sting before a mouth closed over the fount, tender even in it’s hunger as Grey tried to draw from him the excess, the sweetness of his Caramel, her sticky, sickly sweet sunshine. Her toffee apple, melting butter blood that filled him to overflowing. He would have her, not because he wanted her but because he was denying Adley another piece of Kaspar. All protest died in his throat, replaced by a desperate little groan, by hands stroking over darker hair, to grip amongst the fabric of a t-shirt and hold close the man who had sunk fangs in. She was leaving him, and so was the warmth, even as a different fire built inside of him Kaspar felt strangely adrift, caught between sensation and emotion. Caught between the three of them… Four, if you counted the ghost that hovered at the edges of all of their minds, the what if? The great question of Jamie’s absence.

He was torn, and so he let himself be dragged under by the pull of Grey’s mouth.

<Adley Reed> Calm was a state of being, and Adley fluctuated. He was tired, now. Emotionally, and physically. Indigo hadn’t taken a lot, but she had taken enough. And yet, Adley’s physical wellbeing paled in comparison to his fear. Indigo was the one who always reassured them, but Indigo wasn’t there. Suddenly the room - which had always been large - felt like a cave. Where the soft blankets and numerous pillows and cushions had always appeared welcoming and comforting, they may as well now be rocks, for all the comfort they provided. The atmosphere was temperate, but Adley felt cold as death.

He was cold as death. He was death.

Where he had been dozing, waiting, the thought jolted him awake again. Death oozed from his fingertips. Death waited for any who tasted a single drop of his blood. He was death, and he lay here holding Indigo in his arms. He was not a giver of life. He took life. If he had anything in his gut, he’d have wanted to vomit; he’d have wanted to lurch over the side of the bed and empty the contents of his stomach, and whatever remained of his soul. The lump rose and fell in his throat, the sudden terror forcing him to move. To gently shift Indigo out from underneath him, to instead lay her out on a bed of cushions.

How long had his eyes been closed? A minute? Six minutes? Fifteen? How long had it been? And she was still dead. Her body now entirely cold. Her eyes were still closed, her skin bereft of its usual vitality. Panic surged and Adley unsteadily pushed himself to his feet. Maybe it was selfish, but he needed Kaspar. It didn’t matter what he had to do, or say; he would get down on his knees and apologise, he would admit to all his failings, but he needed the musician. They needed the musician. Guilt didn’t factor into the equation - not just yet. Not when Adley couldn’t be sure of what was normal and what was not. He tried to shout - he tried to call out to Kaspar, to summon him back to the bedroom but his voice remained stuck, lodged behind that lump that still hadn’t subsided. If he managed to break it apart, he feared the only sound would be despair.

As reluctant as he was to leave Indigo’s side, he had to. It would take only five seconds, and he would be back. He would hover, but he would not touch. What had possessed him? What had made him think that he should, that he could even now? In these crucial moments when Indigo needed life, and there he was, only offering her death.

His feet made no sound as he travelled the length of the hallway; he reached the main living area, reddened eyes seeking their Morningstar. Kaspar, whom he found wrapped up in Grey. Grey’s teeth in Kaspar’s neck. Kaspar, enjoying it. The two embroiled in their own pleasure while Indigo lay dead. Or dying. Adley didn’t know whether he was angry, or whether the scene merely broke his heart a little more.

In front of him, a vase sat unperturbed on one of the hall tables. A crystal thing, quite pretty, with some natural flowers nestled within week-old water. It was the closest thing - and Adley didn’t even think. The vase flew sideways, sliding from the table with a barely-discernable woosh. It could have been an eternity that it hung in mid-air before it crashed to the ground, smashed into a thousand pieces, water and glass and flower detritus sprinting across the tile, scattered in all directions. Adley stood staring at the mess, wondering why he hadn’t thrown the vase at their ******* heads.

It was anger, then.

But he didn’t stay. The anger didn’t stay. It had provided only a brief reprieve from the panic, from the need. His lower lip, cracked and dry, trembled. Let them have each other. Adley turned from the living room and headed back down the hall. He wanted to reach over and shake Indigo awake but was aware of his status as death. He couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t disrespect her like that. And so he merely collapsed by the bed, on his knees, pathetically slumped as he leaned against the mattress, his head buried into crossed arms. Alone, his body shook with sobs that remained silent.

<Grey Weston>There was still comfort in the way his lips molded against Kaspar’s neck, forming a seal against the shallow puncture wounds that bled freely for an instant. It was a gesture meant to stem the tide, sluggish as it was. The first few drops still carried traces of warmth; edged with it, even as they rapidly cooled. That in itself was nearly enough to make him gag; to tear his mouth away. To seek a reprieve from the horror of it. He didn’t; instead he bent to the task, the draw of his mouth slow and patient. The hunger Kaspar had spoken of was absent. It was a labor of love; unhurried. A dull ache settled along his jaw after a few minutes; the muscles there locked, the tension of the evening causing a mildly exhausted tremor to race along the seam of his lips.

He exhaled against Kaspar’s skin; breath hot as it escaped him. It was a shallow, gasping noise; drowning out the harsher sounds of each rough swallow. It would only be a matter of time before he was overwhelmed; before his body balked at the sudden influx of blood that was at odds with Kaspar’s usual taste. Too rich. It was like forcing himself to spoon the last few mouthfuls of a chocolate layer cake into his mouth, despite the way his body cringed with disgust, the sweetness sickening, creating a pang of discomfort felt down to the roots of his teeth. The pull of his mouth abruptly changed, the pace growing slightly faster.

It was the sound Kaspar made. The groan triggered a catch in his own breath; an audible, ragged hitch as kaspar’s fingers threaded through his hair. The faint pressure forced a mild sting as each strand of hair pulled taut, nerve endings raw. His mouth didn’t pull away until after Kaspar’s fingers sank into the fabric of his shirt. He released him with the shuddering breathlessness as a surfacing diver; the first swallows of oxygen sweet, even as they burned a slow path down his lungs. He was immediately aware of the sensation of being full; a sluggishness. The feeling of his skin pulling taut in the struggle to contain the sheer volume of what he’d taken.

The sound of shattering glass distracted him. Even Bucket started; the violence of the sound forcing the dog to sidle an anxious step or two. He paused, lips hovering against the curve of Kaspar’s jaw. His own tightened grimly. He was careful to trace over the still-raw wounds left behind; tongue sweeping over them in an effort to encourage them to close. His grip tightened around Kaspar a split second later as he rose, carefully cradling the man who fit so easily against him. It ached, guiding him upright; encouraging him to find his feet with gentle, nonsense sounds. He waited until he was sure Kaspar could support himself before carefully getting to his feet as well, shepherding him down the hall with a steadying touch.

His steps grew heavier as they approached the bedroom; as if gravity had grown denser. As if he were delivering Kaspar, not to his companions, but an executioner. Someone who would suck what life and light from his veins; leave him as cold and empty as Indigo. He flinched from the thought, even as he paused to hover in the doorway, one arm curled around Kaspar’s waist. “Selfish,” he exhaled in a low hiss. “You are so ******* selfish.” The rage -brackish, just below the surface - abruptly reared its head. He took a steadying breath. “Is there anything, Adley - any. *******. Thing - you won’t take?” He demanded. “You wanted Jameson. You took him. You wanted her and you couldn’t even do that without forcing him to…”

The words in his throat caught. “Look at her!” He demanded, the words spiking, becoming a snarl. “You destroy everything you touch. Was it worth it?” He swallowed down the words that threatened to pour, hot and thick, from his throat. “I brought him,” he finished, not bothering to disguise the tremor in them. “That’s what you wanted, right? But you’re not touching him. You’re not taking one more goddamned thing.”

<Kaspar> He felt the urge to sleep dragging him under, to let himself be lulled into it by the soft pressure of Grey, but each drop that left him had him feeling more aware, a strange predatory urge to push him away and keep the blood locked inside. A snarl felt like it was lingering at the corners of his lips, tugging at them, but all that happened was a strangled sigh. There was desire, of course, a strange desire over his boyfriend showing dominance but that was nothing compared to the guilt that teased at his gut as he realised what was happening. What he had let happen. His lips parted, almost to complain, to tell him to stop but then Grey already was.

He was slowing down, readying to pull away when the sound broke through his haze, giving a moment of shattering clarity. He felt as if it was the last teetering bit of control, of composure was dashed against the floor along with that glass vase. Adley left them, alone together in their embrace which now seemed out of place, he felt out of place. “Oh god, what have I done?” His words barely croaked forth, scratching and scraping free of his dry throat. Grey was murmuring to him, sweet nonsense, encouraging him to stand and Kaspar didn’t fight. What was the point? He wanted to feel abject horror at what had happened that night, at what he’d done but it was all surface, it was almost more an annoyance now. It never reached the core of him, never pierced the very centre. He could acknowledge that he may have made mistakes, but he was still him. He was still Kaspar, and he still did the best he could. His best was enough, even if others couldn’t see it.

Was he consoling himself? Was it genuine belief? He wasn’t entirely sure but he allowed it to give him enough strength to stumbled with Grey back into the room, back to where Indigo lay lifeless by his doing and Adley wept bloodied tears openly. Kaspar’s head fell weakly to Grey’s shoulder, the grip at his waist tightened keeping him pinned there even as he considered letting himself fall down to join Adley on the ground. It was tempting to just slump forward, letting gravity do it’s work but Grey had other plans. While the words that came out of his mouth, spat forth like acid, were aimed for Adley it felt as if they’d landed on Kaspar. They burned.

It was a sharp slap to the face, the cold shock of someone tipping ice water over his head. The cold realisation that Grey’s anger, his hurt would not be undone so easily and they had to live with it between them. He’d redirected it, he’d let his feelings for Kaspar mend some of it but out of them all he had taken the most. He reacted as if slapped, a sharp flinch, creating some distance between them. “No, please…” He cleared his throat, letting it become stronger. “Please, stop. Grey, please. We didn’t… I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He didn’t know. Every time you say that, it just… I did the same thing. I am no different to them in that regard, liebchen.” He gestured to Adley, to Indigo on the bed. His lips found a temple, a clumsy brush of a kiss, another lowering to briefly capture Grey’s lips as if he could smooth away the snarl. “Please, don’t let it destroy us, i’m sick of being haunted.” A sharp jerk had him standing alone, letting his feet carry him unsteadily to the bed, to fall down upon the large expanse by Indigo.

She was cool now to the touch, her warmth seeping away quickly and Kaspar wished he had some to give back. It was easy to curl around her, to lift her gently and rearrange her frame so that she fit against him. “I need you all, we need to get through tonight. Grey, I want you and I need you. Adley, i’m sorry and I love you. Indie… Come back, just come back.” He murmured, burying his face against her curls. He wanted to comfort Grey and Adley too, wanted desperately to make everyone ok but that wasn’t something he could do right now. He just didn’t have it in him. Words began to flow, to turn into song, soft and urgent, cradling the woman as he tried hard to give her what little strength he had left to offer, what little resolve that this was what had to be done, that this would succeed.

It had to.

<Adley Reed> Weakness was unbecoming. Even as Adley slumped there, giving into his weaker emotions, he was telling himself to stop. To stand tall. To gather his wits, and the reasons why…

What Grey delivered was what Adley needed in order to pull himself back together again. Anger and grief coiled tight within his gut; some might call the emotions contradictory, and yet they weren’t too far removed. They were in the same family. They were brothers. And brothers, most of the time, were there for each other. They stood up for each other, and protected each other. Grey attacked Adley’s grief, and if grief had been alone, it would have cowered and pandered, it would have given in. Instead, anger was roused. Anger reared its head and snarled, baring its teeth in order to defend grief, to protect it.

Adley didn’t even hear Kaspar; he was aware of the blonde climbing onto the bed. He was aware that Indigo was being taken care of, comforted. That Kaspar would do what he could to bring her back. Kaspar was the life giver, not the life taker. Kaspar was not death. She had a better chance in his arms. It gave Adley the freedom he needed - it gave anger it needed to lash out, a savage whip ready to draw blood. Where Kaspar dipped, dropped, crawled onto the bed, Adley uncoiled, strong legs pushing him into a standing position. He was on the offense, taking a step toward Grey, hands white-tipped fists.

“I had never heard your name before the night we met. You know that? Jameson LEFT you. We didn’t take him. He came to us of his own free will,” he said, voice seething.

“You… you are the selfish one. You come in here and you try to claim Kaspar as yours. Just yours, no one else’s. You’ve taken him away from us when we needed him most. NEED, you ignorant ******* plebian, is not equal to selfishness. He’s not JUST yours, get that? He was here before he met you. He will always be here. I will do what the **** I want,” he raged. Oh, but he couldn’t stop. The rage had been building; it was leftover from before, from when he didn’t say a thing. It was a vicious, violent dog, its jaw slathered with foaming spit.

“Whether or not I fucked up is not your concern. Maybe that’s why Jameson left you? You smothered him,” he said. The gloves were off. He wasn’t thinking before he spoke. It said nothing about why Jameson had left them all. “You insert yourself where you don’t belong. You have no right, no right to come in here and throw your weight around,” he said, his lips curling back over his teeth. His eyes were feverish, but his shoulders were straight. Kaspar had apologised, and Adley knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. But Grey was an outlier. If things had been different, if they hadn’t walked in right then, if they’d been home before Adley and Indigo had come back, they’d all be in the lounge right now, laughing. Grey would have been accepted. What he wanted would have been accepted. Now, in this moment, Adley couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“I think you should just leave,” he said, with another step forward. It was a threat - if you don’t leave, I’ll throw you out.

<Grey Weston> “**** your apology.” The words fell heavily from his lips. They were sharp - his tone volatile in stark contrast with Kaspar’s own. Where Kaspar’s were thin at the edges with weariness - dull with shock - Grey’s were brittle with anger. “You said it yourself, right? It doesn’t run that deep.” The words were vaguely unsteadily as they spilled from his lips - a tremor to them as he attempted to swallow back the bitter taste that rose at the back of his throat, as corrosive in taste as battery acid. His words caught in his throat; their edges jagged, serrated things, desperate to carve their way out, to sink blindly into old wounds and tear them open, leave them gaping and exposed. All the better to salt them with. Any other time, he would have hesisted; heard the way Kaspar’s voice threatened to crack with the pressure of trying to keep his composure, to keep the three of them tethered together.

Any other time, he would have yielded. He would have averted his gaze, and swallowed the fragile sense of guilt that struggled to take root. He would have taken time to breathe. “You knew after, and you just carried on with your **** anyway. Not surprising.” His eyes flashed as Kaspar continued; the soft hazel shade diluting, darkening into a brackish shade of fawn. The light - the quiet affection that had been present - slowly bled from his gaze. In its place was a flat, emotionless stare as his gaze locked with Adley’s. “You’re right,” he agreed, tone clipped. “Let’s spread the blame.” He wasn’t quick enough to avoid the soft brush of Kaspar’s lips against his temple. He flinched; jerked as if the touch left a wound behind; as if it scoured his flesh raw with a welt.

He didn’t push him away as his lips sought and found his own. He was tempted. A part of him wanted to shove his palms against his chest and send him sprawling; to wrap his arms around himself defensively, as if the pressure of those locked arms would be enough to hold in the scream of frustration - hoarse and choked with grief - that threatened to claw free of his throat. He didn’t respond to the coaxing pressure of Kaspar’s lips. His spine was rigid; lips still beneath the other man’s. It was display of defiance. He couldn’t fix this; couldn’t quiet him with a kiss. Couldn’t smother the flames that threatened to eat him alive. “You’re sick of --” he began, the words escaping in a shaking laugh. It was a sound without humor; dripping with incredulity. What did Kaspar know of haunting? What did any of them know?

His gaze shifted to Adley as Kaspar lurched away, tearing himself from Grey’s side to drape himself across the bed. “Funny. He never mentioned you, either. You think you’re special?” He took a step forward, his fingers curling inwards, forming loose fists. He was vaguely aware of the way his nails bit into his palms. He welcomed the brief, sharp sting. “He left you, too. You were just a diversion. You think he actually gave two fucks about you?” He demanded, edging closer. “If he did - if that were true - he’ be here. But where is he, Adley? Where the **** is he?” His voice broke slightly; an echo of a question he’d asked himself for too long. Too many countless nights. “You didn’t know him. You don’t. He wasn’t yours.” The truth of it was exhaled; heaved from lungs with a violence that crackled; that burned like the sparks from a sparkler that burned down too low.

“You wouldn’t have needed Kaspar if you hadn’t fucked up in the first place. And you’re so far up your *** that you can’t see anything but your own pain. I didn’t want any of this. But you don’t give a **** about whether people have a choice.” Adley closed the gap between them as he finished speaking. And he was. Well and truly finished. In place of reason was his barely contained rage; the bristling of the predator he so often forced beneath the surface. His only concern was in subduing Adley, not with words, but with fists. “Make me.” The words were spat; the sole warning he got before his fist swung to connect with Adley. The force of it produced a sickening crack; the soft give of flesh folding around his knuckles. If Grey hadn’t been a Blood Thief - if he hadn’t recently fed - it likely wouldn’t have been enough to even slightly stagger Adley. As it was, that newfound strength was enough to force a hairline fracture in most supernatural beings. He didn’t pause to see if the same were true for Adley.

He threw himself at him blindly; gripping him by the shoulderbefore he could recover from the recoil. It didn’t matter that the skin of his knuckles had split with the force of the blow, blood running to trickle between his fingers. He was too focused on his momentum, intent on carrying him to the floor.

* Indigo felt the boil of everything she ever consumed, or so it seemed, rising up like a geyser. The funnel cakes from the fifth grade field trip, the large tub of popcorn with extra butter at the premiere of Iron Man and even that two pound of Gummi Bears that Davion dared her to eat in less than five minutes. All of it was back with a vengeance. It still hurt to think about and now it was more vivid than ever as her body felt as though it was ripping apart at the seams for release.

This was not the calm she had been embracing. What happened to that peaceful state that was far too welcoming to leave. She was being kicked out already? The pain of a whole new level was back and the confirmation was in the internal blaze firing its way through her lungs as she gasped her for her first unneeded and cursed breath. While the remnants of her last meal was on the express route to freedom her lungs contracted in a desperate reflex to repeat the rhythm that was lost only minutes before. Everything was out of sync and every effort that her body involuntarily repeated was met with increased gut retching failure. Indigo felt like she could die all over again as her muscles jumped to life beneath her skin. As if she was on an ejection seat she felt the sudden yank and pull of what was out of her control. Her eyelids sprung upward and so did her upper body just enough to roll to use the support of her poised elbow to bear the weight of her heaving body. The motion was a sign and so were the sudden grasps at bedding with her long bronze fingers as if she needed to hold on tight.

“Ohhhhh…”

The sensation of Kaspar next to her, the scent of him as she knew flooded her despite her sudden erratic movements. She didn’t have time to say anything else, no apology left for what would happen next no matter how much she tried to hold it back.. Out flew the evicted contents of her stomach. In a projected arch the sour spray went towards the side of the bed barely clearing it to hit everything between her and the floor. Oddly the bed itself happened to be spared. Unattractive grunts echoed as she pulled her body forward to dangle off the edge of the bed to see the proof with her own eyes what she had surrendered to the floor. Wide indigo orbs stared while her fingers clawed up into the cloud of curls framing her face. Roughly she tugged back at whatever strands were attacking her. Feeling a sense of bewilderment met with a rush of irritation. She was hearing voices. The pitch of anger and the bite of challenge was coupled with the sound of skin, material moving quick, clearly rushed as if in a struggle. Her focus quickly pinned on the sources and it was as if an explosion went through her to move, to act despite the weakness that came to her as she found her feet planting on the floor beneath her.

“S-T-O-P!”

She invested what strength she had in raising her voice to a level she could swear she never had before and with it she lunged at the two bodies she could see grappling. Unfortunately her footing was hardly what it could be or her coordination and she missed her mark landing and rolling off the dresser and to the floor exactly where she made her deposit moments prior.

“Stop them, Boo!”

Indigo’s eyes darted to Kaspar and begged with their fix while she struggled to get back up. She was no help to the cause. Absolutely ******* useless. Her insides were back to trying to give up whatever had not found it’s way out. Her body folded over and she dropped back down to her knees and felt her open hands land on the floor just before her face. With a loud drawn out cry she let go and didn’t hold back. This time nothing came forward. She waited for her lungs to fill and release but they didn’t. In the desperation and the pain that flowed the reality finally found her. Now if only she could get off her knees and stop gagging.

[Grey Weston]

<Kaspar> The pain was clear, the way Kaspar recoiled from the sharpness of the words exchanged between the men, neither holding back now with their accusations and insults. It was clear to him that it would only escalate if he didn’t stand up, or step in between them to stop it but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Would he make it worse? His presence might only exacerbate the issue, because although he’d stepped away his name was flung about casually, his needs and desires discussed as if he weren’t in the room to voice them himself. To argue with either man would appear as if he were choosing, leaving one in lieu of the other and right now that wasn’t something he was prepared to do. He cared about them both, about all of them in different ways and for different reasons. Lately he’d found himself with less time, and less motivation meaning that his relationships were sure to suffer.

He was beginning to realise that perhaps one day in the near future he would have to make a choice, or one might be made for him.

None of that seemed quite as important, however, as Indigo began to stir. While Grey and Adley’s voices rose, while they got in each other’s faces, Indigo was waking. The pain was immediately evident in her movements, sharp and suffering, Kaspar moving back a few inches to allow her room to breathe, to move if she wished it. There was no great surprise evident in his features when she lurched suddenly, her body giving a great heave that had the remaining contents of her stomach spurting forth in a rather impressive arch across the other side of the bed, he was merely grateful it hadn’t been sent in his direction. As she crawled to hang her weak frame over the edge of the bed he followed, assisting her in pulling back her curls, rubbing cautiously at her back just waiting for the next bout to rock her slight frame.

The sudden movement of her attempt to sit upright startled him, but he did his best to aid her, not to argue. The quicker she was in a position to move towards the bathroom, the quicker he could handle the men. He looked up in time to watch Grey take hold of Adley the other hand already balled into a fist sailing freely into the man’s face. One thing he knew of Grey, while he was human and fragile in a different way, he was not without strength. He had in fact put Kaspar on his *** a few times during playful rough housing. Add to that the fact that he had just taken blood from Kaspar, and a lot. Well. He figured Adley would be hurting and quick smart if he didn’t stop it.

Grey was throwing himself at Adley, keeping little distance between them as he seemed ready to let those fists fly in earnest. It was enough of a distraction that Kaspar had moved to his feet, not noticing that Indigo followed until the woman was already slumping towards the ground, landing in the puddle of horror that had only recently exited her and commanding him to stop it. A familiar string of Germanic profanities passed as he lips as he threw himself bodily into the fray, stepping in to take whatever it was Grey was throwing so Adley could assist Indie. His eyes had closed, body tensed as he prepared for hits to land, reaching out blindly, gripping at his boyfriend’s shirt in an attempt to subdue him. “Liebchen, please. STOP.” A tone of command entered his voice, a force behind it that had not been there before, and a stirring of those abilities within him; the ones that could do genuine damage should he choose to unleash them. Perhaps too late, as the three men went stumbling thanks to the added body in the mix, all fists and fury.

<Adley Reed> The difference between Adley and Grey - the difference that made all the difference - was that Adley had never claimed Jameson as his. Jameson had been the first of the Hive that Adley had encountered; he’d been the one that Adley had stumbled across in a club, the one who’d solved so many problems. Jameson had given so much, and Adley would always appreciate it. Comfortable now in this home with Indigo and Kaspar, Adley was probably the least hurt by Jameson’s disappearance. The guy had always struck Adley as a free-wheeler. Someone who came and went and came back again as if nothing had changed, as if he hadn’t gone anywhere. It was part of his personality - though Adley hadn’t know the guy long enough to know all the intricate details of his personality.

That Jameson had left Adley wasn’t an insult. It failed to hurt. It was not a knife - because Adley was assured, in himself, that Jameson would eventually find his way back. Bucket was still here, and Jameson loved that dog more than life itself, didn’t he? And Bucket was here. So where was he going to come back to? Where did he intend to come back to? And that was the difference, at least in Adley’s eyes. Neither he, nor Kas, nor Indigo had ever put chains on Jameson. Terms of endearment and affection were tossed around but there was no claiming, and he’d always been free to roam, to explore. Just as Kaspar was free to roam and explore. Grey was getting the wrong end of the stick. If Adley was claiming Kaspar now, it was only because Grey threatened to put him in chains.

What exasperated Adley more were all these accusations about how Adley had fucked up, how it was his fault that Kaspar was in this position, that Kaspar might never have been needed. Kaspar had always been needed. This had always been the plan, hadn’t it? It hadn’t gone quite as they had thought, and, even if Adley hadn’t fucked up, who was to say it wouldn’t have happened in the exact same way? They never did factor in that Indigo might have a bad reaction to Adley’s blood - that it might be his blood, specifically.

Adley might have explained. In spitting, spiteful sentences he might have told Grey that Kaspar had always been part of the equation. The fact that he was so against it now, that he seemed so out of sorts to be involved - Adley was never aware that Kaspar felt that way. It wasn’t Adley’s fault.

No explanation was forthcoming, however. All words were shattered as the fist collided with Adley’s cheek; he took one step back, staggered and surprised by the human’s strength. Shock, pain, and rage were instantly quashed as soon as Adley heard Indigo’s sweet, honey voice. It acted like a tidal wave of freezing water over an inferno. Whether they remained standing, whether they’d all fallen to the floor in a tangle of hurt and limbs, Adley wouldn’t have remembered. Trusting that Kaspar would leash his companion, Adley disentangled and immediately threw himself at Indigo.

It didn’t matter that she was covered in vomit. It didn’t matter if her lips tasted like vomit. Adley immediately had her now-cold body in his arms. His lungs did not require oxygen but his body now heaved with the relief, the sobs of happiness. His cheek ached and his lips throbbed where it had split - was one of his teeth a little loose? - but he didn’t notice. He didn’t care.

“I thought you were dead,” he breathed. He pulled her in, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, face buried into her curls. When he parted it was only to lift her into his arms; if he was weak from lack of blood, it didn’t show. And he’d boost his own blood later. If there was one word that most people would describe Adley as, it was stubborn. As much as he loved Kaspar, as much as he knew, even now, that they’d get past all this, he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive Kaspar for giving his blood away - blood infused with Indigo’s - in a moment that was theirs. If he couldn’t have that, then he would have nothing, and he would never let go of it.

As Adley stood, he steered clear of the other men. He veered around them as he made his way toward the bathroom. Regardless of grudges, he was smiling. Grinning, with tears gleaming in his too-bright eyes. Under the harsh glare of the bathroom lights he looked more dead than ever. But his smile was genuine.

The shower would wash away the last remnants of Indigo’s humanity - and she would theirs. All theirs.

<Grey Weston> The slight falter in Adley’s stance - the way he was forced to give ground - triggered a shift in Grey. The snarl that contorted his features moments before returned; the corners of his lips slicing upwards sharply to expose the pale gleam of his teeth. It was easy to mistake it for a smile, unsettling. Unhinged. The intent behind it was far more predatory; a baring of teeth. A whispered hunger to sink his fangs deep. To blindly seek an artery, savoring the wet crack of it, it's faint give, and tear. Rip it from Adley entirely, with all the indifference one might have in deveining a shrimp. The mental imagery was sharp -vivid - and he moved unconsciously, hands lifting to grip Adley by the throat. His fingertips itched with the urge to wrap around his throat and squeeze. He wanted, in that moment, to tighten his grip until the walls of his throat collapsed in on themselves, windpipe crushed under the twin pressure of his palms.

He wanted to leave him swallowing the jagged remains of his own teeth, leave him crumpled on the floor and choking on his own blood. Then they’d be even. He barely registered the added weight; body naturally shifting to compensate for the sudden tilt. He was caught in a haze of tunnel vision, barely aware of Kaspar’s hands as they fisted in his shirt. His hands lifted a split second later, fingertips grazing the pale column of Kaspar’s throat, before curling around it. His fingers bit into flesh, locking into place. It was a bruising sort of pressure; the sort that would have left a circle of bruises in the shape of uneven, unfinished fingerprints around a less resilient neck.

Kaspar’s voice registered belatedly. It granted a moment of clarity, cutting through the pall of rage that had fallen over him. His senses returned gradually, and he was suddenly aware of the sharp, copper scent of the blood that coated his knuckles, their skin split and ragged. It reminded him of the occasions where he’d found one of Jameson’s discarded shirts, wadded at the bottom of the laundry hamper or tucked carefully inside of the washer, the fabric stiff with blood. He hadn’t had to breathe in the scent of the stains - dulled to the color of rust, and flaking away just as easily in sheets of dull brown - to know that it was human. That there was too much of it.

His gaze found Kaspar’s a split second later. The realization of who he held in his grip registered like a slap. The rage drained from him a moment later; abrupt. A sudden emptying that left him feeling hollow. A soft noise rose in the back in his throat - a lost sound, choked with the horror of the imagery. It was something that would haunt him in the nights to come; leave him lurching from his sleep, gasping for air that was suddenly too thin in his lungs. He was no better. His hands fell away from Kaspar’s throat as if burned. He was like a marionette with its strings abruptly severed as he sank against him; curling into him, still making that choked, meaningless sound of apology. Of confusion.

“...Sorry,” he managed, the word cracked, muffled against Kaspar’s chest. It became a garbled mantra before quieting, voice spent.

* Indigo She barely found her feet as Kaspar moved in a way she had never witnessed before. The gentle and less than threatening nature she had known him for shifted instantly. With it she saw the side of him that had her feel the chill of his intent. As he went into the mix of fists and limbs exerting far more strength than she had observed before she saw the man, the vampire, in a different light. She was filled with warning, caution as he moved to take issue with the current grappling in their bedroom. Indigo looked around searching for some sign of reason and finally eyed the gun on the dresser. Her hand moved but found her mouth instead.

The back of her hand went across her lips trying to erase the sour scent still coating them that found its way beneath her nose. Why did it even matter...but it did. She could smell it as if her face was wading in the mess on the floor. Her nose and lips creased up quickly. The volume of everything, bodies wrestling, fibers of material being stretched and the snarls of anger was jacked to the point she felt the vibrations of each moving through her body head to toe. Her wide indigo orbs filled with fluid in response. There was nothing she could do except feel the floor beneath her weave like she was in one of those carnival funhouses. Her feet moved toward the door, towards the gathering of what she loved that was like a mountain of writhing violent flesh between her and the hallway. It needed to stop.

Another step forward and she felt the crush of Adley’s body meeting her own. The impact was like a kiss of inspiration to every inch of her weak flesh. Frantic hands burst into action and found his jaw line, cupping each side while her eyes danced across his face. The coolness of his skin was absent as her thumb brushed over the divide of the flesh of his lips. He felt as warm as she was. It was lost on her that she had changed and for the moment it didn’t matter. Her fingers caressed upward unsure of the pressure that was instantly applied could be too much but she couldn’t gauge her strength that was fueled by maddening desperation. Was she really there, was he really taking hold of her? Or was this another dream she was pulled back into. She needed to know. The ache of hope filled her as she fell into the moment with her lips finding his face and pressing to taste his skin. Tears found the surface of her cheeks, of his. She tasted them too, swallowing them down with a selfishness that she would never apologize for.

The sound of his voice answered every last question she had been left with. He thought she had died. It was real. She made it back. The words seared through her and all that surfaced in response was lost in the grip of her arms that wrapped around him as he took her from her feet and into his embrace. A deep draw of air into her lungs pulled in the scent of him, of Kaspar and the distant air about Grey. The exposure to rage so soon stimulated a tsunami of emotions that flooded her in the refuge of his arms. Her body clung tighter to Adley’s refusing the storm trying to move within. The sensation of being in his hold transformed into soothing confirmation that they gave her life...the one she asked for. She could sense the slivers of awareness beneath her fingertips as she pulled his face once again to her own and whispered against his lips.

“Only if you let go.” Her fingertips pressed down into the weave of tight curl of his blonde crown that shimmered beneath her hand that moved to the back of his neck. “Promise you won’t.”

Even if Adley didn’t answer she already felt it beneath her skin. Like a crucial need had been met, a bond had set in that was impenetrable. There was no distance between them there in the bathroom even as their bodies moved apart when they did. She felt him everywhere within her, much as she did Kaspar. Anything she felt before was magnified, intense and to the degree that she felt herself beside Kaspar as much as Adley even if he was in the other room. The stimulation was mind blowing...a rush that would take time to adjust to. As soon as she acknowledged it her hands found the one she barely released and pressed against him once again until every soft firm curve of body was compressed against his skin. His promise moved beneath her skin. It found its way through every layer, every fiber, every thought and movement beneath his hands.

<Kaspar> Stormy blue eyes shone like hard candy, widened in response to the shock of the grip that found his throat. He’d expected to be rocked by a punch, knocked to the ground with a stinging jaw or sent sprawling with a harsh shove. He didn’t expect to have a grip upon a wrist that had fought his grip to push forth, to wrap familiar paint speckled fingers about his throat as he might choke what life was left in Kaspar out. In some part of his brain he knew that the man wasn’t aiming it at him, it became apparent in the way his face softened and shifted into abject horror, and yet he felt thoroughly shaken under the blood thief’s grip.

As it released he took a breath he didn’t need, swallowing hard against the bruised feeling that laced his throat. It wouldn’t last, they’d fade quickly thanks to his recent feeding, but he’d feel the impression of those fingers long after no matter what he did. He would see it over and over, flashes of this night, that being a particular favourite of his mind’s to torture the young man. When Grey’s frame crumpled, when the man fell against his chest Kaspar let his arms capture him. His feet shifted backwards, carrying the two in a blind stumble until his backside hit the dresser, letting it carry his weight as he sat upon it, breathing deeply. “Nein, liebchen, bitte verzeih mir.” His words were murmured, softened by the brush of lips against the top of Grey’s head. He wanted to cry, why did he want to cry? It was the weight of the evening, the weight of the responsibility that had been thrust on him when he wasn’t prepared.

A steadying of breathing, a controlled counting in his head helped him kept it together, to manage to support them both until he was ready to speak. “I need to stay, Grey, as hard as this is. I need to stay. I’ve helped in bringing her into this life, it would be like birthing a child and abandoning it. I know you may be angry, I know you want me to just walk away but that’s not me. I’m not the man who walks away, you know this, liebchen. Would you… Would you be able to care for someone who was that way? For me if I was able to turn my back?” Wrong question, really, he had loved Jameson after all. Unfortunately for Grey he had been unable to appreciate the man’s nature, and in the end rebelled against it, wanted to contain and keep him. Jameson would have devoured every inch, leaving nothing but bones. No, he would go further, his fire would burn them to ash and not stay to watch them blow away on the breeze. Grey would have let him.

“Please, you need to breathe, you need to get your head straight. I want to help you, but I can’t do that here. I will help her… Purge her humanity, it won’t be pleasant, I will change the sheets and clean the mess so they have a fresh bed. I will ensure that she understands, that she is cared for and has what she requires… Then I will give myself time, too. Grey, I NEED you to understand this, I need you to let me.” He pleaded, too tired to sound anything other than morose, defeated as he held the man against him. Fingertips stroked beseechingly, lips not needed for words littered soft kisses over his hair, his face, nudging finally to the corner of his mouth. There was a renewed, brief surge of that incendiary sort of desire, the licking flames of want that often tinged his kisses in moments of heightened emotion. He needed this, and they needed him… All of them, but there was only so much Kaspar had in him to give. Even as he wanted desperately to stay with Grey he felt a pull towards the other room, to where they were and he simply couldn’t reconcile the two. There be no coming together of all parties, not today and likely not ever.

He had to live with it, and had to prioritise. Kaspar had to trust.

<Adley Reed> The door to the bathroom had been left open. As much as Grey wasn’t Adley’s favourite person right now (and let’s be honest, nor was Kaspar) but he wouldn’t exclude Kaspar. He didn’t want to. As he dimmed the lights and carefully stepped into the bathtub with Indigo, as he turned the taps on to release a steady, gentle stream of warm water - not too hot, but not lukewarm either - he hoped that Kaspar would have the common sense not to bring Grey in with him, to not try to force any kind of reconciliation.

The denim of his jeans soaked through as he lowered himself, and Indigo along with him, to lay down in that tub - his back against the cold hard plastic of the tub, and Indigo up against his chest. She could lay, she could relax, though he would half sit up, his legs spread and his knees raised, so that he was within reaching distance of the soap, the shampoo - Indigo had got vomit in her hair, and she might not yet be done.

“I promise I won’t ever let you go,” he said quietly. The tub’s shower head was one of those large ones, wide and circular and set on low pressure, the water falling like rain. It was soothing. Adley had a hold of the sponge, using the soft material to gently wipe the remnants of vomit from Indigo’s chin. One arm was wrapped around her waist; they were still dressed, and he would eventually move to get the clothes from Indigo, to clean her properly. The hand that held the sponge soon dropped.

Adley was overwhelmed. With the one arm around her waist, the other wrapped around Indigo’s chest and he held her close, his face buried into the crook of her neck. He wasn’t overwhelmed because his face still ached from where he had been hit - the fight, and the reason for it, didn’t have space in his mind. Nothing else that had happened in the past few hours mattered, because he had Indigo in his arms. And she was alive. She had survived. He hadn’t doubted that she would, when they’d known it was what she eventually wanted. The question of her survival had never come up. It was only after it had already started that he realised they could have lost her. He thought that they had lost her, and he might have let the Blood Thief beat him to a bloody pulp, if that had been the case.

And he wanted Kaspar there with them. He wanted to share the relief and the happiness, just as he’d wanted to share the worry. There was still anger, yes, but they were a family, of sorts. Anger wouldn’t tear this family apart. And yet, Adley didn’t call for Kaspar. He didn’t go searching. He sat with Indigo and he waited for Kaspar to make his own decisions, his own choices. And in the meantime, he would come to his senses. And he would care for Indigo now, at the time she most needed it. He would never let her go, and she would never be without.

<Grey Weston> His arms rose to circle around Kaspar as the pair collided with the dresser in a graceless stumble. His grip was unrelenting; muscles rigid and locked like an electrocution victim. Faint tremors greeted the careful brush of Kaspar’s lips as they nestled into his hair; brought on by exhaustion following the sharp spike and rapid decline of adrenaline, intermingling with the horror of his actions. “I wouldn’t --” he began, the words thin and cracking, restless with defeat. He exhaled sharply then; the sound unsteady. It followed on the heels of Kaspar’s needless inhale; an exchange of oxygen, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I wouldn’t hurt you. Ever. The reassurance rested on the tip of his tongue; mute. He swallowed it a moment later, buried under the jarring thought that surfaced. But you did. He recoiled from the thought, face burying against Kaspar’s chest as if he could retreat from himself - from the unrecognizable thing he’d allowed himself to become - as easily as he’d retreated from the two conflicting thoughts.

Kaspar’s words washed over him like static; muted and indistinct. It was like the interference from two separate radio stations. He knew the answer Kaspar was searching for; he could hear the fragile note of hopefulness tangled in his tone. It went beyond a simple question; it was a plea for understanding. He didn’t answer him. The answer wouldn’t have been a welcome one. It would have been an emphatic yes. If it meant prioritizing himself - his family, his career - above all else. It was true that he had loved Jameson even in the moments when the other man had not been present; even when he had been, there were nights where the sheets were heavy with the miles of distance between them. Usually when the pair were in the throes of a high; each as unattainable and radiant as a star in their own way.

There had been nights where he couldn’t reach him, even though all that separated them was the oxygen trapped between outstretched fingertips. Even then, he’d waited for him to come back. Waited for the drop that meant he’d come back to him, dragging the stars with him. He would have gladly ashed under his touch; would have allowed him to douse the pair of them in gasoline, fed it into his mouth with an exchanged kiss as if it were water. He’d have handed him the match. He hadn’t questioned it. He’d never had to. He stiffened in Kaspar’s arms, slowly shrugging free of them. He straightened a second later. “What I need,” he echoed hollowly, “is for people to stop telling me what I need.”

“You don’t need to stay. You’re choosing to,” he continued flatly. “But I should be used to it, right?” A low, bitter laugh forced its way from his throat, sharp and humorless. He flinched under the touch of his lips - stiff for a handful of seconds as they carded through his hair, roamed across his face. He didn’t pull away, despite the brief temptation. His response was brief, remote only in the sense that the warmth in the way his teeth sank into Kaspar’s lower lip was cursory. He pulled away a moment later, making his way from the bedroom and down the hall. The uncertain click of nails further down the hall gave him pause. Bucket. The dog looked pitiful; shoulders hunched, tail tucked between his hind legs. His gaze was uncertain; darting. It was clear the raised voices had done him no favors. A low exhale escaped Grey. “Wanna go for a walk?”

The dog’s ears perked immediately, tail untucking to offer a tentative, hopeful wag. The only sound was the purposeful click of nails - rapid and pleased - and the sound of the door as it clicked shut behind them moments later.