Drained
Rating: PG-13/T
Genre: General/Drama
Summary: Continuation of the scene with Mikael and Katherine in the tomb at the end of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. Spoilers for the episode.
Author's Note: First Vampire Diaries fic! I shamelessly admit that my first story involves Mikael because one of the major reasons I'm in the process of getting into this series is because Sebastian Roche played Balthazar on Supernatural and I wanted to see him again. I'm rapidly falling in love with a number of other characters, though- Including Katherine. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries. It belongs to L.J. Smith.
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Oh, she'd walked into that one.
It had been a long, long time since she'd felt fangs piercing her skin, blood draining rapidly from her body. Not since Klaus' little love-bite, and he hadn't even been trying to drain her dry that time.
Her vision swam dangerously, and she could feel the blood sliding through her veins up to her neck and out the holes he'd created with his canine teeth, they dug in so deep and hard and painfully whilst the corresponding ones on the bottom dug into the soft bulge of her throat-
The more he drained from her, the less effort it took to hold her down.
When her attention to the fangs lapsed in the minute or so this took place, she felt the nails digging into her back where her tank top exposed her bare skin. Air wasn't strictly necessary for her survival, but the sudden lack of it brought her abruptly back to the long and (she thought) forgotten human instincts that made her brain scream in terror and her stomach flip when the concept of 'likely imminent death' flashed through her mind on reflex.
Her legs started to shake wildly, knees knocking together. Her arms began to quake too. Her body was being completely drained of strength, and her limbs were starting to give out beneath her. The rapid shifting of blood was making her head ache. Her arms buckled at the elbows, and she fell deeper into the coffin, right hand slipping from the edge and falling between his side and the coffin's wall.
His hand disappeared from her back, though she barely noticed.
When darkness was about to take her, when the last of her strength was slipping from her and she'd fallen to her knees, the pressure on her neck vanished. The pain of the withdrawal was virtually unnoticeable. For a full minute her brain tried to catch up with everything, and in the background he sighed with significantly more energy.
Then he roughly shoved her away from the coffin, and she fell to the cold stone floor limply.
Had she been in any kind of condition to keep track of him, she would have noticed with dread how quickly he hopped out of the casket and stretched his limbs just as a human would after awakening in the morning. His eyes were bright, shining, blue- if she'd been paying attention she might have noticed how similar they looked to Rebekah's.
"That's much better." He noted lightly. He glanced towards her, and seemed to double-take when he remembered the considerable wound on her neck. "Mm." He paced over to her, pulled a dusty old handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to the bite mark- She didn't quite see the point in it, as there was barely any blood escaping there. "My apologies- I seem to have gotten a touch carried away."
A touch?
"What? You're not going to kill me?" That was what she meant to say, but it her current state it came out more like "Wha…Ha…?"
He seemed to get the gist of it, though.
"Of course I'm not going to kill you." He remarked, standing up and straightening out his jacket like he was getting ready for a night on the town and not what she assumed was to be a murderous rampage against every vampire he encountered. "I've been in that coffin for God-knows how long. I don't want to get lost." He gave her a smile that was ominously empty.
Her cell phone was on the floor. It must have fallen from her pocket when he grabbed her, or when she fell to the ground. He picked it up, studied it for a moment with some minor confusion. "What is this?"
"Ffff-" Her lips and tongue wouldn't Hhmove properly. She struggled for a moment before he rolled his eyes, grabbed her by the arm, hauled her limp body up and dragged her over to the corpse of the man she'd tried to feed him from earlier.
"There. Drink."
She stared up at him. Even in her weakened state the idea of drinking from a human that had been dead for easily twelve hours was a nauseating concept. He looked back at her unsympathetically (Right, right, vampire hunter which implied a dislike for his own species). "I believe the phrase is 'beggars can't be choosers'." He remarked.
And so she drank. The body was stiff with rigor mortis. Livor mortis had already taken place, and the blood had pooled in his tissues. It was like sucking a really thick milkshake through a ridiculously small straw. She got enough, though, and after maybe ten minutes of stuttered blood intake she was able to operate her mouth again.
"Phone." She croaked. "It's a phone."
"Really?" He tossed it in his hand. "How long have I been in there?" She pulled away from the body and tried to stop her head from spinning, pressing the heel of one hand to her temple while the other was splayed on the floor behind her for support.
"Twenty… Something years. Not sure exactly."
"Hm. Interesting." He tossed it back to her, but either forgot or ignored the fact that she was in no state to catch it. It smacked her in the chest and fell onto her lap before sliding onto the stone floor with a clack.
God. This guy had all the tact of a butcher knife.
"Can you move now?"
She looked at him, dumbfounded, and weakly shook her head. "No." Her croaked word was edged with slight hostility- Isn't it obvious, you idiot?
He sighed again, shrugged, and then pulled her up again. "I suppose I can give you a hand. I won't be dragging you, though, so at least make an effort." He slung her arm around his shoulder.
"Where are we going?" Her hand came around to dig her nails into his shirt, but she stopped when she thought she might tear off one or two of the buttons; Almost immediately after she wondered why she gave a damn, but found that a part of her stirred in fear at the idea of making him angry. She was the one who'd let him out of the coffin, set him free, and he'd used her blood as a power-shake: She really didn't want to see what he'd do if she gave him a reason to be angry with her.
Klaus' heart-stopping fear of this guy was suddenly a lot more understandable.
"If we are, in fact, still somewhere in Virginia- Yes? Then I do have my hidey-holes here. Assuming they haven't been discovered or demolished." All he had to do was nudge the heavy iron door with his foot to push it open. Soon enough he was frog-marching her across the graveyard. It hadn't rained in a while, and the grass was dry and audible beneath them.
It took a sincere effort on her part to take heed of his orders and not become total deadweight. But honestly, if he didn't like her level of energy he could go do unpleasant things to himself because it was his own damn fault for reducing her to this state in the first place.
He hauled her along until they exited the graveyard and found themselves on the sidewalk. Here she felt him hesitate, uncertain of precisely where he was and where one of those hidey-holes he spoke of might be located in relation to them. She gave his shoulder a sloppy squeeze and jerked her head to the bus stop and bench a ways down from them. "Bus."
"Ah. That will work."
As it so happened, the bus pulled up before they even made it to the bench. She took this as a sign that it couldn't be too late; how late did the public transportation around here run? She hadn't been to Charlotte in a while.
She was having trouble focusing her sight, but she heard the doors to the bus creak open and almost sensed the surprise of the driver before hearing him speak.
"Whoa- What's wrong with her?"
"Oh, she's just partied a little too hard. Had a touch too much to drink."
His nails dug quickly, sharply into her hip. Play along.
"Where's the party, man?" It was sad that she didn't actually have to fake the slur to her voice. She heard the driver snort, and a moment later she was being led up the steps. She felt the vampire-vampire hunter at her side dig into her bag and fish out some money for the fare. Once he had, he led her along a little ways to the third row of seats, and then stood back.
Mikael smiled at her with all the charm of a viper.
"Ladies first."
Katherine didn't have the energy to glare at him, and instead used the remainder of her energy to slump into a seat and go still.
-End
WHOO. DONE. :D
As of the posting of this story, "Homecoming" has not aired yet: So if this contradicts that storyline, you know why.