Disclaimer: I do not own Cirque Du Freak. Darren Shan is a gift.

The Only Night I Heard Him Cry

By wolfgal97

The only night I ever heard him really ever cry was the night of Arra Sails' funeral.

Larten Crepsley, the great ex-vampire general, almost prince, hates to show weakness. It was dishonorable for a vampire to do so. But sometimes, even a vampire will break down.

I was laying in my hammock swinging idly trying to sleep through all the noise. All the howling in pain of a broken heart. The uncontrolled sobbing of lost love. Now I was getting really worried about him. He'd been like that for at least an hour now.

I started thinking about all the times he had been there for me. When I was fist blooded and had to leave my family, that night in the old church, Sam's death, freezing on the journey to Vampire Mountain, the trials of death, and even when I came back. I would always remember the look of joy on his face when he saw me. He even cared enough in my first days as a vampire to force me to drink blood.

Now, I just stood by and let him suffer alone. I felt guilt sink deep into my heart, grieving with him. Suddenly, I felt the need to comfort him. I was his assistant, was I not? It was my job to make sure he was okay. I hopped off my bed and went to go check on my mentor.

I crept down the hall, not wanting to disturb anyone, but I doubt they could sleep either. I came down the hall a few doors to his when I stopped. The weeping had become louder, but more controlled. I raised my fist to knock, but my heart skipped a beat. I turned around to chicken out when I remembered the look on his face of pure joy when I returned. I turned around again and walked through the door like a soldier ready for battle.

He wasn't dressed in his normal red cloak but in black robes that oddly looked like what Mika wore daily. The black shocked and scared me. It made his orange hair look like a bright flame. He was perched on his coffin sobbing, his shoulders shaking. His back was to me so I couldn't see his face, though I wasn't sure I wanted to. He must have heard me enter, and he whipped around to see me.

"Darren," he sighed. He composed himself, whipping his eyes with his sleeve. I waited for him to start yelling at me for intruding, but it never came.

"Thank you."

My mouth almost dropped open. He had always been courteous to me, but never had he spoken to me with such tenderness. He looked so frail and fragile. I decided the best thing to do was to do what comes natural. I give him a hug. It's a loose and tentative hug, but the gesture warms him after a minute. He hugs me back really hard and I can literally feel his pain.

"It is not a problem, Mr. Crepsley," I say muffled by his shoulder, "I am just glad to assist you."

"No contractions? You sound more like me every day, Darren."

Charna's gut's he is right!

"Oh, shut up," I hiss, and we stop hugging. Then we start to shuffle around in an awkward way.

"Let us go get some ale," he said, drying his eyes and getting up. We start to walk out when a thought comes to me.

"Am I legally allowed to drink alcohol?"

'Well, I am older than some of the wine here, and you are almost 40, so I would say so."