For Maddie (fading daylight)'s birthday – your third and final fic, since the other MichaelClaire I started won't be done today.

I don't own anything

MichaelClaire

Pretty dark-Michael, fyi.

~x~

The writhing pain as he's turned is unreal; it's incomparable even to the, now previously, death he relived every morning at sunrise, that's barely one tenth of this pain, if that. It's excruciating, the feeling of losing his humanity and having it replaced with the demonic side of vampirism, the desire for blood already beginning to overwhelm him. Each second seems to get more and more painful, the burning in his throat increasing in intensity as he thinks about it, the bloodlust ever more agonizing as he continues through the change.

The girls are upstairs, thought they're moving down; he can hear their every movement, hear their every breath…even hear the pumping of the blood through their veins, though he tries to resist this. One breath in through the agony brings their scents – and one is so much more intoxicating than the other, the fragrance drifting around making each part of the chance oh so much more painful because he wants to go and taste it, to taste her blood.

He can tell it is Claire, not Eve, and the idea of it being the sweet, innocent little girl makes it all the more tempting to abandon the plans of non-violence he had before taking the step to become a vampire…a decision which cumulates in him throwing himself off the floor and trying to reach her, trying to feel the taste of her in his mouth as he rips into her throat. It's the thing he wants more than anything.

Then he's thrown back and away from her smell, something that allows him to feel sane for a few seconds before he takes the reflexive breath that he would have as a human – and it makes him go crazy again. The idea of her being with him, kissing her and then tasting her blood allures him beyond his wildest dreams, the chance to take advantage of the crush he has had on her since she arrived in the Glass House beaten and bruised…and it can mean he can sate his thirst with the sweet scent of her blood. He can't imagine drinking any other's blood than hers already, without even trying it – he knows that no other could have as sweet a smelling blood as Claire Danvers.

Blood is poured into his mouth by Sam, he realises, and Amelie is ordering the girls away, ordering away the delicious smelling girl who he is slowly coming to remember being Claire…and then his girlfriend, Eve, though he can't remember anything about her blood. And that's all he can think of them as now, blood bags, until he's drank and drank as Amelie takes him to her mansion to tell him everything he needs to know.

And, unsurprisingly, on the top of the list is not to bite the Glass House residents.

He doesn't know how he'll resist.

~x~

He's been a vampire for over a month or so now but her blood continues to appeal to him: Shane and Eve, he has no qualms about spending time with, not that his former best friend wants to be around a vampire more than he has to be. Yet Claire…the human side of him, the compassionate side that's always fighting for utter control, has feelings for her, has the desire to be with her and be with her for her…

…but the bloodlust disagrees. It makes him want to be with her alone for a reason, so he can bite into her neck and taste the blood running through her veins, drain her body entirely, so she's in him and making him feel as amazing as she must do. So, for this reason, he stays away from her, makes sure that the time they spend together is with Eve or Shane…and it hurts him, oh it hurts him, because he wants her.

There's almost a clean divide down him for his desires for the girl who is probably bound more to the Founder than he is, and that's saying something. One half wants her for her intellect, her personality, the way that he's wanted her since before Shane had her but he held back because she couldn't have a proper relationship with a ghost…and then the rest of him wants her blood, wants to defile her and then take every bit of life out of her, draining it into him.

So he stays away and breaks his own heart in the process, not being able to express the growing love he feels for her because otherwise, he would kill her. The bloodlust wins out most of the time, haves him leave the room if they're suddenly alone together, which is what he never wants.

"Does Michael hate me or something?" he's heard her asking this and it hurts him every time he hears it or something similar because how could he hate her, he loves her for god's sake! But she has absolutely no idea of this because to tell her would be to give her a death sentence.

And that's something he can't allow to happen.

~x~

Things begin with Bishop and it's getting more and more dangerous in Morganville, not just with Claire. He tries to feed more and more, so he can be in the room with her alone for a few minutes without having to rush off, tries to distract himself from her scent when she's around so that he's used to it, but nothing works. He can't be near the person he thinks – knows – he loves, because he's a vampire.

For the five millionth time, he regrets making himself this, something that his friends hate (at least deep down) and how it means he has no chance of telling the girl he loves how he feels…as otherwise he'd kill her. It's not like he doesn't have the chance to do it – she's single since Shane turned back into 1st class Prick mode, and he and Eve ended so many weeks ago – but every time he is close to her, the monster speaks up, the burning starts in his throat and he has absolutely no way of being able to kiss her without ripping her throat out.

But he has to be close to her now because he needs to protect her, protect them all, and that's impossible to do from afar. He has to fight the lust, fight the desire for her blood, but he doesn't know how because it's so strange wanting to feed from a human as he's never done it.

There's only one other vampire in town who hasn't and that's his grandfather, Sam Glass, the man who turned into a vampire through love for Amelie. So one day amidst plans for the Welcoming Feast for the most dangerous man to have passed through Morganville ever, Michael knows, he goes to visit the only person in his life who he looks up to – in a relative manner, of course.

"Hi, Michael," is how his Grandad greets him as he opens the door to his small flat, shocked to see someone who vowed never to return here when he was thirteen years old. But people change in this time, the fact he's here to discuss his bloodlust sort of proving that, Michael thinks grimly.

"I need help," Michael says instantly, walking into the flat with Sam and remembering the times they shared in the past.

They sit down at the table and he can't help his hands shaking as he half expects a bottle of blood before he remembers that he has never seen blood in the house of the man who has always hated to be a vampire.

"What is it, Michael?" Sam asks as he hands his grandson a can of coke.

"I…I think I love Claire," he mutters, burying his face in the can as he opens it and gulps it down.

Evidently, there's something funny because Sam can't help but laugh. "Good for you, Michael. Why don't you tell her that then rather than me?" he has to ask, a smile on his face as he takes a drink of his own coffee.

"No…I can't," Michael replies, agony in his voice. "I would but…but ever since I became this, I've been unable to stop myself thinking of her blood. It smells so sweet; if I'm ever alone with her, I want her blood…how can I carry on living with her when I…when the vampire part of me just wants to kill her?" tears form in his eyes as he tries to forget the memory of even just the night before, when they were sitting in the living room. He was across the room from her, yet every time she moved her hair, he smelt a fresh waft of her and her alone…he wanted to pounce, wanted to kill her then and drink every bit of her blood in her body and he barely resisted.

Sam seems to sober up as he places a hand on Michael's arm in comfort. "It's hard, I know, Michael," is all he can say. "But I don't really have any advice. The woman I loved – love - is a vampire and so…whilst it was hard sometimes being around humans, especially when their blood seemed a little nicer, I got over it."

"Not really helpful, Gramps," Michael responds, closing his eyes as he buries his head in his hands.

"I know," he's still not sure what to say, his Grandad, but then he decides to bite the bullet and try something. "But promise me this, Mike. Promise that you're not going to hurt her, as long as I live. Just promise me that and I know that you'll be ok," he requests this of Michael, who looks up and stares at the man who is near identical to him in looks.

"I promise, Grandad, but I don't know how that's exactly going to make me think that I can avoid hurting her," he mutters, looking away again.

"I never told you this, probably partially because I didn't want your Dad to know, but I almost killed someone," Sam murmurs, continuing to look at Michael. "It was around now, for when I turned into a vampire, I mean. She seemed so…I can't put it into words because it sickens me – especially as I had no link to her whatsoever, I just wanted her."

"What did you do?" Michael inquires, intrigued to know since he always thought that Sam never did anything against humans.

Sam smiles ever so slightly, taking a sip of coffee before replying. "Amelie came to see me. It was the first time…since she left me and it's one of the last times I've seen her, but she made me promise her that I wouldn't betray what I told her I wanted that first night. I told her that I never wanted to hurt a human and she knew I would go absolutely crazy if I killed that girl…so I promised her I wouldn't. Lo and behold, I didn't. So promise, Michael, and I know you'll be ok," he explains what happened to Michael, who almost understands.

For the first time, he considers what he could be like with Claire if he manages not to kill her, what he could say to her to make her understand how much he loves her. The darkness shall always be there, he knows, but perhaps he can try and overcome it.

After all, Sam has.

"I promise, Grandpa," he repeats, louder this time, with more meaning behind his words.

"So, tell me about Claire," Sam turns back to being entirely Grandfather-ish, his eyes gleaming as he expects to hear more about this girl that his grandson loves.

And so, for the first time in what feels like forever, Michael smiles properly and begins to tell him of everything about the girl who he's known for only a few weeks…but it feels like he's known forever.

~x~

He begins to allow himself to spend more time with Claire without the others being in the room, begins to force himself to, remembering the promise he made Sam. It's the hardest thing he has ever done, harder than even turning into a vampire, but it's worth it for the shivers it sends through the part of him that could never hurt Claire.

"What are you writing now?" she asks him as he plays his guitar in the living room, later than she should be up but not caring because she's with him and maybe she's going to realise that she loves him back. What she feels for him, he has no clue because he hasn't asked her (maybe he doesn't want to know) and it's going to stay that way until he's sure that he won't kill her if he kisses her.

"Just a song about when you have something under your nose and you can't take it," he replies almost cryptically, wondering if he can work her name into the song because, well, that would make it perfect.

"Uhuh," she replies, sounding as if she's not particularly listening. And, as he looks over at her, he sees something that her new, crazy boss has given her, sees something that indicates to him that perhaps she's involved – no matter how indirectly – in this fight against Bishop.

Her blood calls to him again, makes him want to bite her more than anything, but he forces it down, remembering Sam. As long as he lives, he won't hurt her. He can't break the promise he made.

~x~

But Sam dies.

Sam, Sam, leaves him alone in Morganville, leaves him without the one person he had to talk to about the bloodlust, to discuss the problems there are with being the youngest vampire in town. He was the only person who knows about the love for Claire, the only person who knows that her life is in danger…and now, the only thing that stopped him from biting her is gone.

He could spend hours with her, holding her close to comfort her, but the pain that rips through his torso as he thinks of Sam suggests that for her to be close to him would be her end. The vampire Michael is back with a vengeance and it scares the human Michael inside to the point that he doesn't know what to do – he's a danger to the world, to himself.

The sweet, innocent human façade he tries to put on to show the rest of the world has been cracking slowly, been harder and harder for him to put on – especially with Claire. she can always tell that he's got something wrong, he knows, and that worries him…because how can he hide that he wants to kill her?

"Michael, are you ok?" her sweet voice interrupts his thoughts of depression, of the way that he has nobody to stop him being the world's biggest, most selfish vampire (as he can't even call himself a person anymore, if he does this) and he…he can't live with himself if he does this, but she's too irresistible.

She moves closer to him, wraps her arm around his neck in comfort, and he realises that all his work in keeping her away so he can't hurt her has been futile – he wants her.

And he knows now that there's no backing out.

"I'm fine," he replies, leaning his head into her shoulder as he feels his fangs beginning to slide down. "Claire, I should have told you this a long time ago, but Sam's death just made me realise that I should tell you this."

"What is it?" she inquires, having an idea what he is going to say but not daring to say it.

"I love you and I want to be with you," he whispers, hoping desperately that she'll agree. He's doing anything he can to get her with him before he releases his hold and lets the vampire out.

There's a stunned silence and she can't comprehend that he is finally saying this, that he is telling her he loves her. But then it clicks in his mind and her head turns for his lips to slip over her's.

They're alone in the Glass House, something he's thankful for, and he rolls her over, kissing her with every ounce of passion he can, trying to say everything he can before the inevitable happens.

"I…love…you," she replies against his lips, her arms around his waist as she smiles and smiles, unable to help herself. It's almost a shock to him to hear this since she's never said a single word to him about loving him, or even liking him that way – or maybe he's just not been listening.

.

And then he slips.

The Michael she loves disappears and the vampire comes out, the vampire that has thirsted to have her in this position for so long to be able to drink her blood, to taste her sweetly fragranced life-force in his mouth, down his throat. Maybe he'll not kill her, but he knows that he'll bite her before she can react.

The half descended fangs extend fully as he rips his mouth from hers, his hands moving her head to a side and holding it there. Within less than a second, his fangs are sinking through her skin and into her vein, the writhing of her body doing nothing against him as the blood flows into his mouth. Her screams don't affect him – for the first time, he's a proper vampire, doing what they do – and he gulps her blood down greedily.

Every ounce of light has left him as he drinks and drinks, leaving only the steely, darkness beneath.

.

As he bites her, she can't see any of the Michael she's loved for so long and wanted to tell him for almost as long. He's taking her life away more and more as each second passes, her fight against him growing weaker and weaker.

She loves him. But this love is what's killing her.

.

Slowly, the light begins to creep back, almost as if the desire for her from the angelic boy who has been around for so long is what brings him back.

His fangs leave her neck suddenly as her body flops, the movement causing her to fall into his arms, tears sliding down his cheeks as he processes what he's done to Claire, the girl he loves.

The girl lying in his arms.

Dead.

And as he holds her, he feels strange.

Sated.

A vampire.

Whoa, darkest Michael I've ever written.

What do you think?

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Vicky xx