x x x
Chapter 4: Vitae
x x x
Ianto woke up the next night on the couch in Aiden's lair, in the disused office basement. Aiden himself was lying on the floor in classic vampire sleeping pose, and he sat up about the same time as Ianto did.
Then Owen's voice started demanding over the commlink, "Ianto, are you there. You damned well better not be dead, tea-boy. You're not authorised to be dead."
Ianto laughed as he answered the comm, "Sorry, Owen. Contrary to your long-held opinion, I do in fact have a life. I can be in soon if you need me, though."
"Yeah, well we don't need you just yet. No more alerts or anything... but keep your comms on."
"On-call. Gotcha." Ianto said before tapping off the mic on his comm but keeping it open to receive messages from the team.
"I think I would like him." Aiden chuckled.
"I think I have more of a social life now I'm dead than I ever did alive." Ianto said with morbid cheer.
"If you wish you may stay here." Aiden suggested, "Pleasant company in exchange for banal information that 'everyone' knows."
Ianto looked around dramatically, "I'm sorry, I don't know where I can find any pleasant company for you."
Aiden laughed, and stood to join Ianto on the couch again, "What happened to your hand?"
"Accident." Ianto said, quickly covering his left hand, "Didn't patch up all the windows in my apartment as thoroughly as I thought, on my first night."
"Lucky it was just your hand, then."
"Well, it was in my living room, not my bedroom... I got burned before I went to sleep."
"Ah, even better." Aiden nodded in approval, "Good to get the mistakes out of the way early." he chuckled, "My first night, I got underground just at sunrise. You see that type of grating there?" He indicated a scrap of wide mesh grating that was sitting on the floor. "Got the pattern branded onto my face for two nights." a rough laugh, "And at the time I thought that was the worst damage to my looks. It took a week for this..." he indicated his face, clearly meaning the inhuman twisted features, "...to kick in."
"Two nights? Is that how long it takes sun damage to heal?" Ianto asked with a frown.
"Depends how badly you get hit. For that-" he gestured to Ianto's hand, "-I'd say so. But it can vary. Some exceptionally resilient individuals can get over a minor burn in a single night, others can take up to a week for the exact same wound."
Ianto slowly unwound his bandage, to reveal thin shiny scar tissue in a neat patch in the middle of the back of his hand. He could see the indentation, with red visible underneath where the flesh had burned, but the wound itself was clean and covered by the new scar tissue now.
"That was three nights ago." Ianto said with a frown as Aiden took his hand gently between his own pale, spidery hands.
"Then I'd guess you have two more to go, if this is how far it has healed." Aiden informed him, "On the bright side, much as it looks it now, it won't leave a scar. Supernatural claws can leave permanent scars, but not always. Depends how deep they get. Sunlight might scar badly while it's healing, but eventually new skin and flesh will grow in, in its place."
"Supernatural claws?" Ianto asked warily.
"Oh, you've come to the right person if you want every juicy detail. Some might cost, for future reference, but not this time." Aiden said with a grin, then held out his hand before him.
Ianto watched with fascination as Aiden's fingernails morphed into wicked looking claws, his hand turned slightly to give Ianto a better view, then the claws retracted again.
"Now that was expensive." Aiden chuckled, "My clan doesn't know this one naturally. I had to bribe a Gangrel, and they are notoriously self-reliant creatures. Still, quite worth the trouble, in the long run." he turned to Ianto in a more direct manner now, and explained, "There are two known sources of supernatural claws; werewolves, or vampires with this Protean talent. Werewolf claws are the real bitch, they're usually six times the length of the best Protean claws - and mine aren't the best - for a start. Then they're attached to a nine-foot tall mass of very sharp teeth and weapon-resistant fur that fundamentally hates our kind for existing. Period."
Ianto blanched at that thought. It sounded like in a one-on-one with a werewolf, there'd be no evidence left that a vampire had even been there.
"Luckily, as I said last night, they stay out of major cities."
Ianto nodded, then asked, "I heard the word Gangrel on my first night."
"Ah, I suppose you still don't know the clans. Oh, sit back and relax, while I weave a grand tale full of half-truths and hypotheses."
Ianto laughed, and leaned back more comfortably on the couch, listening eagerly enough.
"The popular myth is that we are all descended from Caine. The one from the Bible, the first murderer. We even have our own mythic book of the same antiquity, though there are a great deal fewer copies available and those only in parts. It is said that Caine was punished for his crime, and forced to become the first vampire. If you believe the tales, he's on the sort of speaking terms with God where he can get an audience, but he can expect to be grounded."
Ianto couldn't help laughing at that mental picture.
"Anyway, the story goes that Caine started getting lonely, and Embraced three childer. These aren't recorded by name, to my knowledge, but are referred to as the second generation. In spite of Caine's direct instructions, so the scholars will tell you, these three between them Sired a further thirteen; the third generation, often referred to as Antediluvians because they were believed to have been Embraced before Noah's flood." Aiden glanced at Ianto, seeing the sceptical look, "Yeah, I don't buy the biblical crap either. I always took the 'great flood' as regular old 'natural disaster happens in general area of holy-book-writer'."
"It would be the more rational explanation." Ianto agreed. Still, he was generally sceptical of those who outright refused to accept the supernatural just as much as those who insisted it was real. This might have something to do with his cover-up work for Torchwood, though.
"Anyway." Aiden said with amusement, "There is evidence, if you know where to look, that these thirteen were real, though details may vary. Just because they're named after something from the Bible, like their grand-daddy, doesn't change that fact. Again, their names aren't well recorded, but they were the progenitors of the modern clans. Each clan can trace their lineage back to one of them. This is still basics, which a lot of the elders know. Within the Camarilla, however, they may decide you don't need to know."
Ianto raised a sceptical eyebrow at that.
"The Camarilla maintains stability, and many of the Gehenna cults that go on about Antediluvians are antagonistic to that goal. The entire point of the Sabbat - those few among them who have a point, I should say - is that they want to go out and find where the Antediluvians are sleeping and assassinate them. Of course how many of them are still out there to be assassinated is another story. It's got to the point where most Camarilla Princes are too young to believe in the Antediluvians, themselves, so they've become the thing of fairy-tales."
"You still believe?"
"I've met enough of the wrong people in my line of work to know it's true." Aiden said with a very dark smile, "They don't last long when they fuck with the Nosferatu, though. We may hate the sight of each other, but that's about all we hate. The Nosferatu are surprisingly close-knit as a clan, and a common enemy is like Christmas, all our birthdays and Hallowe'en all rolled into one. We go all out."
After a moment of genuine appreciation for that announcement, Ianto asked, "So... what's a Gehenna cult?"
"Well the Sabbat are the biggest one, but there's dozens of them. Basically they believe that one day the Antediluvians will awaken from their long sleep, and slaughter us all, destroy the world, something apocalyptic. Again, details may vary. Nobody knows what might cause Gehenna, we've got several theories in exact opposite directions. We don't even know if the Antediluvians rising will be a bad thing or not. Maybe one or two of them were nice guys and they'll keep their slaughtering to the demon-cults like the Baali and Setites. Maybe we're all screwed. It could happen tomorrow. Or never. It's like the morals going on about apocalypse predictions, you've had nineteen ninety-nine, I think the next big one is the Mayans."
"Aliens." Ianto suggested in the same joking tone the last half of Aiden's rant had employed.
"Yeah, that's a popular one and all." Aiden chuckled, "Though you'd be lucky to find an undead with half an ounce of pride believing in aliens. You'd want to talk to the Malkavians about that. And don't ever ask Lady Luna about them, I was once the victim of a long monologue about evil alien masonry, Pokemon stealing Vogon spaceships, oh, and apparently she thinks Shakespeare was under the influence of an alien spy."
"But Pokemon aren't even..." Ianto trailed off as he realised that the Sycorax kind of looked like one of those toys he had considered getting for his niece that one time. It was called Cubone... and it was times like this when he cursed his eidetic memory.
He shook his head to dispel that thought, and laughed... though if he was honest with himself he got more afraid of this Lady Luna every time her name was mentioned. Though he also found it at least as amusing that most vampires didn't believe in aliens, since he'd seen evidence of them with his own eyes so many times. He was tempted to ask just what the hell Aiden thought the Weevils were.
Instead, "So what can you tell me about the clans?"
"Ventrue, Toreador, Gangrel, Brujah, Malkavian, Nosferatu, Lasombra, Tzimisce, Ravnos, Assamite, Setites... and a pair of usurpers, called Giovanni and Tremere. Giovanni are a bunch of inbred necrophiliacs who murdered the Cappadocian clan and took their place. Tremere, hermetic mages who did the same to the Salubri. Stay out of Giovanni's way and they stay out of yours, usually. Tremere are somewhat more... meddlesome. Half the reason I came to Cardiff is because they don't go near Wales. Tremere clan are a major faction within the Camarilla, and like to think they're better than all of us. Again, staying out of their way is best, just much more difficult."
Ianto frowned at this, but nodded, "And the ones I'm more likely to meet?"
Aiden laughed, "All relative, that. Assamite tend to stick to the Middle East. Ravnos can crop up anywhere, but are usually shunned by Camarilla Princes. Lasombra and Tzimisce are usually only found in the Sabbat. Setites, guess where they live."
"Egypt?"
"Bingo." Aiden laughed, "So that leaves Nosferatu, Malkavian, Ventrue, Brujah, Gangrel and Toreador. I think you already know as much as anyone outside the clan does about Nosferatu. Being a Ventrue yourself I'll be surprised if you haven't figured out most of your own clan's strengths and weaknesses as well."
Ianto nodded slowly, "Yeah, I think I've at least got the basics there."
"Toreador are artistes, dilettantes, and generally opulent hedonists. They adore art, and all things they deem beautiful. You can guess how well they get along with the Nosferatu." Aiden snorted derisively, before continuing, "Brujah can range from once-proud warriors to deadbeat thugs depending on the individual. Gangrel are the wild ones, one with nature, tree-hugging hippies, whatever you want to call it, they're out there... and for some reason the werewolves don't stop them. Malkavians, now those are the tricky ones."
"How so?" Ianto asked.
"Their entire point and principle appears to be madness. Ranging from mostly harmless to complete psychopaths, and sometimes both in the one body if they've gone and gotten themselves a split personality. They have no running theme, they could be anyone... but there come moments when they seem to have such fantastic insight. It is said among some circles; 'When a Malkavian speaks, listen. When a Malkavian acts, leave. When two Malkavians gather... run'."
"I almost like the sound of them." Ianto said, not sure whether to be scared or amused.
"Almost is always the key word, is it not?" Aiden looked thoughtful for a moment, before adding, "I would suggest you go and see if Jeanine still likes you. Toreador are fickle creatures, but you might still get some kindness out of her before she gets bored. She is significantly older and more powerful than I am, so it would be in your interests to take what you can get."
"That seems cold." Ianto said with a frown.
"Because they are. I'm not sure if you can comprehend it yet, but try to imagine living for centuries with nothing worth living for to keep you grounded. That is why so many of our kind are so very heartless."
Truthfully, Ianto had both of those points of reference, separately he kind of hoped. He remembered the feeling of nothing to live for, from when Lisa died. And he knew someone who had lived for over a century and he had seen the weight of that time bearing down upon Jack in a genuinely terrifying way.
The sudden understanding that he was going to be forced into that position... it had the potential to be either the best or the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Depending on how he managed to cope with it.
And to a far greater degree than he liked to admit, it depended on whether Jack ever came back, and what he did when he found out what Ianto was now. Would he end up with an immortal enemy instead of an immortal lover?
"From the look on your face, you've got a pretty good imagination for it." Aiden said darkly.
Ianto nodded numbly, horrified at this realisation. "How do you handle it?"
Aiden laughed darkly, "I'm only fifty-three. Mortals can get to this age alone and uncared for, and still keep a few shreds of decency, why shouldn't I? I'm just the old curmudgeon with memories of a brighter youth. The Prince and his pretty little hangers on, they are jaded demons, all well past their half-millennium, and generally quite happy to act accordingly. It's only self-preservation and tradition keeping the Camarilla in check, really."
Ianto shuddered at that thought, but then, "I should go."
Aiden nodded, "Very well. I hope to see you again, friend."
x x x
It didn't take Ianto long after leaving the Aiden's lair to figure out that the vanishing act - Obfuscate, as Aiden had called it - only worked as long as he stood perfectly still. He couldn't go sneaking around while invisible, though the ability to disappear from sight at will was still valuable to him. He decided he would ask Aiden later if this was all it was, or if further lessons would make him better at it.
He returned to the vampire bar and ordered two more drinks, before sitting in a corner and watching the room.
Once again, Jeanine wasn't there.
He had just finished his first drink when he was approached by another man, whom he recognised as James, from the Prince's office. The new Gangrel Primogen. "Your Toreador whore is out soul-fucking some hot new singer at another club. She does that, y'know. Keeps mortal pets at every other club in town, like some cheating spouse with her toy-boys - and they're always pretty-boys. Can't ever keep track of which one came first, either."
Ianto frowned. This was the second person to give him this kind of advice about Jeanine. And she seemed so friendly, too. "Good thing I don't feel like I need anything more from her. I'm very self-reliant, you know. Would have been nice to have someone to talk to, though."
James snickered at this, "Yeah, right. Look, Prince was right. I may not like it, but I figure you're as much a victim as me. Survivor of a sick fuck going around doing shit you just shouldn't do in a civilised city. That's why I'm telling you about her, because she's trouble, okay?"
"You sound like it's personal?" Ianto asked.
"Yeah, it is. She played this mind-game on one of my childer, now he doesn't talk to me. See, a lot of Gangrel might be loners, but my brood are like pack animals, we like to keep our own close. You ever find out where she's hiding him, you tell me, alright?"
Ianto thought for a moment, and then nodded, "Seems like the right thing to do." he glanced at James, "You might owe me if I do, but the worst I'm likely to ask for is some sort of kindness, rather than anything stressful to you."
James grinned wide. It was a somewhat scary expression, really, but it also seemed sincere, "I like you, newbie. Don't go psycho on us, okay?"
x x x
Ianto returned to the Hub to find the rest of the team still there, in the conference room finishing off what looked like a large pizza each. "You three doing night shifts now as well?" he asked sceptically.
"More Weevils out at night." Owen grumbled, "Statistically, anyway. Tosh and I tried to talk Gwen into going home, but she was determined to see that you were okay. Least the girls got some sleep while I watched the monitors, so someone can cover day shifts."
Gwen, who had been sitting opposite Owen, glared across the table at him, then looked up to Ianto, "Where did you go to last night? We were worried sick."
"Speak for yourself." Owen grumbled, shoving the last piece of pizza into his mouth and pretending that ended his part in the entire debate.
"I met someone who had a lot of potentially valuable information. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep it to myself for the time being." Ianto said frowning at the empty pizza boxes. Suddenly he felt very hungry.
He knew no humans he had seen since his Embrace were suitable for him to feed on. He didn't know how he knew, he just could tell that the thought of their blood was repulsive to him.
Jeanine had called him lucky for even being able to tell, on their night out looking for his type. Apparently some unfortunate Ventrue have been known to die of blood loss by trying to feed on the wrong type, fully believing they were getting the right type, which would then induce vomiting that lost them not only the blood they had just consumed but a significant amount extra as well.
She had also made a rather tasteless joke about mortal women lying about being virgins, though Ianto couldn't tell if this was the cause of death for a specific example she was thinking of, or just failed humour.
After only a few seconds deliberating this fact he said with a sigh, "I'm starving."
"I thought half the point of you going out was to get blood?" Owen asked.
"I did. It costs fifty quid a bottle, and we've got nearly a grand's worth in your fridge." Ianto said bluntly.
"Not bitten anyone yet, then?" Owen asked sceptically.
"Would you, in my position?"
Owen pulled a face, "Only if I needed it to live, I guess. But damn, fifty quid a bottle?"
"Yes, once again I'm thankful for my Torchwood salary." Ianto deadpanned, somewhat morbidly.
The last time he had been forced to honestly rely on the stupidly high pay of a Torchwood Three employee, he had also dug himself into a mountain of debt at the same time, with all the supplies he had needed to covertly acquire in order to keep Lisa alive, safe and comfortable. He had spent a lot more per dose on entirely illegally acquired high-end pain-killers for her than he was doing now on the blood he needed to drink, let alone everything else he had needed to get for her on top of that.
After she died, it took him months to climb out of the debt he had gotten into, even with Jack offering to help him with it.
He could actually afford the blood, if it was going to average a couple of bottles a night. Then again, after rent on his flat, and other basic essentials, it would leave him with very little else in the way of financial freedom.
"We could add it in under Torchwood expenses?" Tosh suggested. This thought startled Ianto, but she continued regardless, "It would technically count as a necessary requirement for the maintenance of non-human inhabitants. We get an allowance for that, and we're not using it all yet. I could just fudge the numbers on the price of Weevil feed."
Ianto laughed at that, "I guess that could work. Thanks, Tosh."
She smiled, "No problem."
"So, starving vampire?" Owen asked sceptically.
Ianto scowled at him, "Yes... the more I think about it, the more I realise I've felt this way since I was turned. It- it just seemed so easy to block it out when I was distracted by other things."
Owen gave him a very pointed look, "No going getting anorexic again. You know how bad it got last time."
Ianto glowered at him, but then realised he was going through exactly the same patterns of stress, denial, and distraction as he had done during and after the time he had been keeping Lisa in the basement. Owen had given him hell on his physical when he came back after the suspension.
"Okay." Ianto said, feeling rather shaky, and slumping down into the nearest seat at the table, "You're right."
Owen nodded, "Stay there." and left the room.
Two minutes of tense silence later, he returned with a six-pack of blood from the fridge. He pulled out one bottle and handed it over to Ianto.
Ianto didn't even hesitate, downed the whole bottle in one go. Then he thought about it for a moment before asking with a sigh, "Another?"
Owen handed over the second bottle, and once more Ianto drained it immediately.
He didn't want to drink more than he needed, that stuff was expensive, but he was still hungry and asked again, "Another."
Owen kept the bottles coming until Ianto decided he had had enough... after consuming the entire six-pack, sending Owen down for more, and drinking three of those as well. Owen held out a tenth bottle, for him, but he shook his head, "I'm good." he said, trembling a bit now.
It was just beginning to sink in, finally, that this was all real and not some drawn out nightmare.
He had gone through the same sense of denial and detachment with Lisa, he recognised the pattern... going through the motions, even taking in detailed information necessary to function with the changes, but not actually accepting the facts as facts. Still, knowing that didn't make it any easier to accept.
It was only beginning to sink in now that he needed to drink human blood to live.
That the contents of those bottles, packaged so nicely, and playing at being so civilised, wasn't the delicious ambrosia it tasted like, but human blood.
He tried to remind himself of what Jeanine had said, it was all willingly donated and only taken by the vampires after it had expired for viable use in life-saving transfusions. It didn't really help him feel any better.
Finally, after nearly four full nights of acting like there was nothing wrong and he could handle it, Ianto broke down and cried. Deep wracking sobs, but no real tears. He couldn't manage to produce real tears, and he really didn't want to think about the mechanics of that right now either.
He felt gentle, slim arms around him, and leaned into Tosh's shoulder, allowing her to comfort him.
Of all of them, she probably understood best just how horrific the situation was to him. How many times since his Embrace had he thought about the Brecon Beacons? He always pushed that memory away before it hit home, but now he felt like he was the monster.
He didn't even notice how long she held him until he passed out. He just felt too tired from the emotional breakdown to even recognise the approaching dawn.
x x x