Title: The Midnight Sun
Rating: M for strong language, gratuitous violence, and graphic sexual situations.
Dedication: To Doofus and Doofus. You know who you are.
Summary: For half vampire Alan, keeping a low profile is effortless, yet every once in a while, human contact is unavoidable. Set a few months before "The Thirst".
Please enjoy, and leave a review! It's the only way I know if I should bother to continue this story. Thank you!
The only sound to be heard by any mortal ear was the soft rustle of leaves by the breeze that had traveled so far inland from the Pacific, a sound that to most would be comforting, but the chorus of nature brought no peace to Alan Frog.
Now it was just bothersome. About six yards away, a spider began to feast mercilessly on some unlucky fly that had managed to trap itself in its sticky, silken web. The spider pierced the exoskeleton with its pincers and began to drain the helpless insect of its life.
Much like a vampire.
Alan's stomach gave an unpleasant turn at the thought and let the rabbit carcass he'd been holding fall to his feet with a soft thud. The creature had been given a quick death with an effortless twist of the spine. It was done not only out of pity, but because of Alan's inability to withstand the high-pitched cries of terror when he tore into its flesh with his bare teeth.
Animal blood. It was the only thing that kept the hunger at bay after he'd been forced to drink from the vampire he and Edgar had been hunting that night in D.C. The taste of it was positively vile, and it kept getting harder and harder to choke back the stuff every time he fed. It was what his half-vampire body needed to survive, but not what it craved.
He'd become more reclusive, more paranoid and bitter than ever these past four years. He took up residence outside San Cazador, still close to his brother but just far enough away to avoid him and everyone else he put at risk.
It was a miserable, isolated life he lived in his white-trash shack of a house. It had so few commodities and whatever space it had was taken up by his new hobby. Not that it mattered though since nobody ever came and visited, save for Edgar showing up once in a blue moon.
The next thing he heard was a frightful yowling coming somewhere close to the road, a sound he would have ignored if it hadn't immediately been followed by a human shriek of terror.
He ran to the road without a second thought, faster than any man ever could. He only beheld the scene for the shortest of moments before his instinct to protect life urged him to intervene.
A woman, blonde, disheveled, and in absolute terror stood opposite a snarling mountain lion, taking a vicious swipe at the long, metal cane she held in front of her to keep the cat at bay. The mountain lion snarled at spat and drew closer to the woman, ready to pounce.
It took no notice of the half vampire swooping in from behind, and would find it much too late to act when Alan's hands wrapped around its head and severed the spinal cord with a brutal twist.
The resulting crunch of broken vertebrae startled the woman, who yelped and drew back, still brandishing her cane. Over her ragged breathing, Alan could hear her heart beat so rapidly, you could dance to it.
The woman made no other more or attempt to speak. Alan noticed, in fact, she wouldn't even look at him or her would-be killer. It was almost as if she didn't know he was there. Now he wasn't particularly skilled at social interactions himself, but a simple acknowledgement of what he had just done for her would have been nice.
Then it hit him. The cane, the lack of eye contact- she was blind!
Alan swallowed thickly and rose to his feet, stepping slowly so as not to frighten her further. "Take it easy, you're alright now." He spoke, though not all too comfortingly.
She jumped at his voice, then visibly relaxed and let the end of her cane touch the ground, no longer her shield. "Is it gone?" she asked breathlessly. Though her eyes did not meet his, her gaze still rested on his face, oblivious to the vampiric features that allowed him to see her so clearly in such a dark setting.
"Yeah. Yeah it's gone. Ran off when I showed up." Alan lied, wetting his lips. Behind him he heard the crippled beast's heart slow and finally give out.
She shut her eyes and exhaled, letting a smile grace her face. "You must be an angel."
Something seemed to roll over in his stomach. "You couldn't be more wrong about that, lady." He said with a grimace.
"God sent you, I'm sure of it." She paused, then smiled and extended her right hand somewhat timidly. "I'm Mae West."
Alan glanced down at his own, still a bit sticky with rabbit blood, and wiped the remainder on his jeans. "Alan Frog." He said curtly, giving her hand a brief shake.
"I can't believe you showed up when you did. Where on earth did you come from?"
"Just out for a walk." He said, unwilling to reveal much about himself and his recent meal.
"So late?" she said musingly, tilting her head a bit.
"Couldn't sleep." He grunted. Even as a half vampire, he rarely ventured out during daylight hours to avoid the harsh light that stung his flesh and eyes. It only weakened him and made the thirst grow stronger. "I could say the same of you."
She only shrugged. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in twelve years, so I'm usually up at this hour. I'm only outside because my cat got out."
A curious thing to say, Alan thought, but he wasn't about to make conversation out of it. A small breeze picked up, blowing the scent of her flowery shampoo in his direction. It was pleasant, and helped to make her smell less like food to him. That was good.
"Your cat?" He echoed.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Orange tabby, red collar, goes by Spiderman."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Haven't seen him." He answered honestly.
"If you do, send him my way, would ya? I live just up the road there. Only house with green shutters."
He knew the one, having passed it on the many. After a pregnant pause he noticed her wringing her hands around the grip of her cane as if she were still anxious and then the way she bit her lower lip and stared at him expectantly. But what could she possibly want from him?
Finally she spoke. "Would you… would you walk me home please? I got a bit turned around and I couldn't possibly know if that mountain lion will come back."
Alan's eyebrows shot up, unsure if he were more surprised by her request or the fact that she was so shy about. Either way, he wasn't about to turn down a lost, blind woman alone by the road. Preventing the death of innocent civilians had long been his personal burden, nay his calling, whether it involved bloodsuckers or no.
"Yeah alright." He agreed with some hesitance in his voice. The tone wasn't intentional, rather a habit he had honed over the years as a result of his proclivity to avoid unnecessary social interactions. Once a loner, always a loner.
Mae seemed to take no notice of this and smiled gratefully. "Fantastic, thank you!"
Alan only cleared his throat and walked past her. She followed the sound of his footsteps until she caught up with him. After another moment of silence, Mae piped up again with a forced cheery tone.
"I'm assuming we're neighbors then? I can't imagine anyone taking a walk all the way out here at this hour would live in town."
He licked his lips, less than thrilled to tell her he lived next door to crack addicts and convicted felons. Even when he told himself that it didn't matter what she or anyone else thought of him, he couldn't help but feel a sliver of shame tug at the back of his mind.
"Kind of. It's some housing complex on the way out here." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't as if she had asked for specific details.
Mae only nodded to acknowledge his answer.
"…Why Spiderman?" he asked, suddenly curious.
"Well," she said with a shrug "my nephew actually named him for me. Thought it would be fitting since I'm his Aunt Mae."
Alan felt a strong wave of nostalgia wash over him, thinking fondly of his youth when he worked in the comic store in Santa Carla. The reminder of better times grew bitter, and he quickly brushed the memories aside.
"Peter Parker's widowed aunt." He said, recognizing the reference. "Makes sense. How old is your nephew?"
"He's nine. Sweet kid, but not terribly bright, poor thing." She clicked her teeth and shook her head in pity.
They were on her property now, crossing the gravel driveway and up to the front porch. There was a white sedan parked in the middle, the engine still hot from recent use. There was nothing remarkable about the house, nor was it dilapidated or poorly maintained. In a way, it was quaint; it had crisp, white panel siding and dark green shutters that suited it well, and a little swinging bench hanging under the porch. With small, purple flowers and the myriad of trees that surrounded house, one might call it picturesque, if not a tad generic.
Alan glanced down at Mae's left hand, taking note of the diamond ring upon the second-to-last finger. "Does your husband know you've been wandering around in the dark, chasing after cats?" he asked with a hint of mirth.
Something flickered in her features almost too quickly to be noticed and Alan suddenly wished he had kept his mouth shut. "No." She said evenly. "My husband passed away several years ago. I live with my roommate now."
Alan shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck, desperately wanting to get the hell away before the sun started to rise. "I'm sorry to hear that." Was all he could muster as a response.
But Mae only waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, it was an age ago. Besides, if you hadn't shown up when you did, I'd be with him right now. Fortuitous, no?"
At a loss for words now, he could only help but feel a bit flustered, not knowing how to leave gracefully. Seeing no other way out, he resorted to his usual blunt diction. "I-I gotta go."
Without waiting for a response, he took off, launching himself off the porch and into the night sky. What would have taken nearly thirty minutes by car was only twelve by flight by the time he reached home.
The street was filthy, and poorly lit. The lamps that adorned every doorway of the crumbly apartments were either burnt out, or missing its glass shade. Alan's lamp was gone all together. He shuffled inside only to be greeted by silence, and felt an odd twinge in his chest, proof that his heart was still beating, proof that he was still human.
Alan had never intentionally been rude to people whether he liked them or not, but the likelihood of he and Mae ever crossing paths again was slim, at least in any scenario he could think of, and it eased his lingering remorse.
Still, he fell asleep with little trouble, even when he had the nagging feeling that something was missing.