Author's Note: New chapter, obviously, this one without naughtiness I fear ;) Enjoy
"I see that this might be the wrong way to make you tell me what we want to know."
After nearly four days of trying the stick with no result to show for it, it might be time for the carrot.
"And I think Hal found it out from another source already anyway. At least he hasn't asked me about it in the last five hours which speaks volumes."
Cutler pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the manacles on his recruit's ankles. He is tense, expecting an attack, a swift kick, but nothing happens.
"You're in a worse state than I'd have thought. I'm sorry for this. I've not been a good host it seems."
He unchains Rook's wrists and deftly catches him as his knees buckle. He half supports, half drags the other man over to one of the chairs and sits him down in it. Dominic winces as feeling returns to his arms. He flexes his fingers and wrists with a quiet groan.
Cutler wipes his hands on his trousers then picks up the decanter he'd brought in to fill a glass.
"Better get your strength up a bit because I'm not carrying you to your room bridal style. Imagine the gossip."
He chuckles and holds out the glass to Rook. It is snatched out of his hand so fast that some of the contents spill over onto the floor and his recruit's trousers adding more stains to the fabric. Cutler tuts and shakes his head.
"Don't be so clumsy, there is no reason to hurry, we've got all the time in the world. Or as much of it as we want anyway."
He has hardly sat down in the other chair when Dominic puts the now empty glass back on the table and reaches for the decanter with a trembling hand. Cutler gently puts a hand on his wrist to stop him.
"Allow me, you'd only spill it."
To his surprise Rook lets his hand drop to the table and doesn't object. Within ten minutes the decanter is empty and his recruit's hand as he wipes his mouth is steady once more. He also looks much less like a corpse even though he still smells nearly as bad.
"Right," Nick slaps his hands together, "lets get you cleaned up. You look dreadful, my friend. I'm sure you wouldn't say no to a nice hot shower."
He gets up and looks at Dominic expectantly.
"Coming?"
The other man doesn't move, just clears his throat and collects his thoughts like someone who had forgotten how to form words. When he finally manages it his speech is slightly slurred, the high from the blood making it hard to focus.
"Why?"
Nick just looks at him questioningly.
Rook shakes his head angrily, impatient that Cutler didn't understand.
"Why are you being nice? What do you expect to gain from it?"
Nick laughs quietly.
"Gain? A recruit that doesn't reek like a slaughter house for example. You might not smell it anymore but this cell is worse than a mass grave. It's not pleasant having to come here to talk to you. A nice, clean, fresh room would be much more comfortable for both of us."
He nods towards the door.
"Come along then. I swear I won't bite…unless you want me to."
He winks and leaves the cell without a backward glance, evidently certain Rook would follow. After a much shorter time than expected Nick hears him getting up off the chair. He's apparently still a bit unsteady since the legs scrape over the tiled floor loudly. The footsteps that follow him are dragging and arrhythmic at first, the muscles out of practice and sluggish, but Nick doesn't turn around or slow down. It would only show doubt and uncertainty which is not how he wants his recruit to see him. He needs to be the one in control at all times and he has to make Rook believe it. He also has to make himself believe it. He squares his shoulders and walks on. Never let them see any weakness.
It's what he has learned from observing Hal. You just need to act like you're in charge, like it was completely impossible, incomprehensible, that anyone would dare disobey you and 90% of people would simply follow you without a second thought. People wanted to be lead, they did not want to be responsible and in charge, they wanted to follow orders.
It's what Cutler had done a lifetime ago. And really what other choice had there been? He'd been a newly recruited vampire, an unwilling recruit at that. Nobody had explained anything to him beforehand, they had just shoved him into the water and his only options were to swim or drown. So he had clung to the only familiar thing in this foreign sea full of sharks.
The situation with Rook was not exactly the same since Dominic had already known about vampires but Cutler hoped that it was still all overwhelming enough to make his recruit feel like he was drowning, too. And Cutler would do his best impression of a life boat.
The guest rooms are quite a way from the cells, obviously, but Rook holds up remarkably well. He follows Nick into the bedroom and just stands there, quiet and apathetic, taking it all in without real interest.
Cutler holds open the door to the en suite bathroom.
"Come on then, let's get you cleaned up."
Rook steps into the bathroom and lifts an eyebrow as Nick enters as well but doesn't protest.
"Well then, take off those rags." Nick takes out a garbage bag from the cupboard and holds it open. "The faster they are burned the better."
Dominic looks at him expectantly.
"What?" There is a hint of annoyance in Cutler's voice.
"Turn around." It's a bit too much of an order for Nick's liking.
"Stop playing the blushing virgin and stip. I won't stand this stench one moment longer. Not like you've got anything I haven't seen before. Well?"
Cutler holds open the garbage bag.
Rook stares at him defiantly for a second than sighs and turns around to take off the remnants of his grey suit.
"It does smell atrocious," he admits. He hesitates a second before taking off his pants as well.
Without fully turning around he shoves clothes and shoes into the proffered bag.
"Good, thank you. I'll just go and throw this away and you take a shower."
Nick slowly lets his eyes wander over the other man's form as Rook steps into the shower. He leaves the bathroom and closes the door. Now where was the nearest gimp he could shove this bag at…?
Rook finally emerges from the bathroom half an hour later clad in only a towel. His hair is damp and ruffled. He looks very uncomfortable as he clutches his towel closer.
Nick looks up from the glowing screen of his phone and smiles. He's made himself comfortable in the room's armchair and propped his feet up on the coffee table.
"Well, you took your time. I've brought you some clothes. Not up to your usual standards but it were the only spare clothes roughly your size I could find."
He points over to a pile of dark grey fabric on the bed. Rook gingerly picked up one item after the other. The grey tracksuit trousers were bad enough but the grey jumper was not exactly the same shade and read "NERD" in big black letters on the front. The shoes were simple white trainers.
Rook sighs. "Better than a towel I suppose…"
He vanished to the bathroom again with the clothes under his arm.
Nick couldn't help but laugh when Dominic reappeared with the jumper hanging like a bag on his bony frame and the trousers being quite a bit too long so he had to roll them up.
This reaction earns him a glare and a disapproving clearing of the throat from his recruit.
Cutler lifts an eyebrow. Someone was getting cocky again.
"Be glad I brought you clothes at all, I could have sent you out there in your towel to find some on your own. It would have been hilarious. Especially if you had run into Fergus."
His recruit's eyes flicker to the door for a second, the expression on his face somewhere between anger and defeat.
"Good point…thank you…I guess."
Rook sits down on the bed with a sigh and runs his hands through his hair.
Cutler gets up with a mild smile.
"You know what? You should get some rest. It's late and I doubt you've slept very well down in the cell. See you tomorrow, good night."
Rook looks up surprised but has only time to mumble "good night" in return before Nick is out the door.
Cutler doesn't need to lock the door, he's 95% percent sure Rook won't try to run. And in the even the other 5% should turn out to be correct someone will see him and catch him.
And anyway, where would he run to? The humans would kill him if they got the chance.
They never run, new recruits, or if they do they nearly always com back soon. Cutler hadn't run.
Stockholm Syndrome would explain a lot about vampire society he thought. A form of traumatic bonding where the victim experiences sympathy and positive feelings for their captor, where they experience a lack of aggression from them as kindness. Usually this concept is applied to hostage situations but any traumatic situation will do and being killed and getting a glimpse at the afterlife is generally considered traumatic.
How else could you explain that those vampires who were brutally recruited against their will basically never rose up against their makers, hardly ever sought retribution for having their lives ripped away?
Cutler would use this to his advantages as best as he could.
Every living thing wants to survive. It's a strong instinct, even in those who aren't really alive anymore. And for a new recruit the best chance of survival is in integrating into their new world no matter how they became a part of it. And the best chance to do that is to get along with your maker.
If said maker wasn't a bat-shit-crazy Old One who would just randomly decide to vanish for 55 years…
