I can fabricate distances

To keep you away from me

The roosters are not crowing

The day has not dawned

I saw the ships go and return

I saw misery go and return

Pupils contracted into catlike slits, muscles tensed, claws shot out of fingertips and a roar that drowned out all rational thought-

"Woah!"

Feliciano, his eyes narrowed on the gun's barrel, recognized the voice. Looking up, he saw Alfred's pale face staring back at him. His hair was disheveled and dirty from the many hours he'd been patrolling the area. Dark circles gleamed in the dark, reflecting what little light his flashlight could produce.

Sheepishly, and the nervous, jittery and slightly hysterical air of someone who'd been on edge for far too long, listening for threats in sounds and shadows, Alfred pulled the gun away, even putting it back in his holster in case it somehow decided to shoot Feli on its own.

Running a shaky hand through his hair, Alfred said, "Sorry, man, I didn't realize it was you."

Feliciano felt his face form a troubled expression, something he'd probably done more in the past day then he'd ever done in his life. "Alfred" he said softly, "you and Arthur have been out here this whole time? Haven't you taken any breaks? Eaten?"

The noncommittal shrug he got in answer may have raised his blood pressure a little. Instead of voicing his annoyance with words, he clicked his tough in an irritated fashion, something he'd learned from Arthur. Alfred recognized the sound and sighed. "Antonio's come out a few times. Given us some shuteye."

"How much?"

"Maybe two hours."

Two hours?

"And food?"

The look that flitted across the hunter's face could only be described as that of a kid caught sneaking Oreos from the pantry. "We weren't really hungry."

Of all the stupid, self-sacrificing, bone-headed- They'd been on patrol for almost twenty hours and barely eaten or slept? How were they supposed to defend themselves if the vampire came back? Did they expect him to just lay down and let himself be decapitated?

"Oi, Feli, I asked you a question." Putting his fuming on hold for the second, Feliciano perked up and listened. "When was the last time you ate something? I'm not sure if that kitchen's been cleaned yet, but I doubt you'd go in it even if it has. Did Ludwig get you something?"

Waves churned in Feliciano's stomach when he recalled the last time he'd almost eaten something. "No."

Alfred smiled smugly, his stance shifting into something easy and friendly. "Hypocrite."

They were interrupted when a shout from nearby drew their attention. Even from the distance, even in the dark, Feliciano could see it was Arthur. Actually, he could see every strand of hair on his head so clearly he could probably count them if he wanted to. Mentioning it would only make Alfred jealous or mildly concerned, so he decided not to.

"Why didn't," Arthur panted when he finally came within speaking distance, "you two blighters call me?"

It was weird. Arthur and Alfred immediately started to bicker good-naturedly over the silliest things as he watched, dumbfounded, in the background. Although it felt as though his world as stopped spinning, theirs was perfectly intact. It went from why Alfred hadn't told Arthur Feliciano had left the house all the way to exactly how much longer before the sun rose.

They were both a little too pale, though, their voices coated in exhaustion, eyes a little glassy…

With a start, Feliciano realized they were trying to act as normal as possible for his sake. He reached out, making them break off mid-sentence, and wrapped his arms around them, a contented purr humming in the back of his throat. "Thanks, you two. For watching the house. And for keeping us safe."

A dusting of pink colored Arthur's cheeks when he replied, "There's no need for such theatrics, Vargas." Feli squeezed him a little harder.

"What he means," Alfred clarified with a grin, "is you're welcome, but there's no need to thank us. We're your friends, after all."

The British gent harrumphed something about not needing a translator, earning himself an affectionate nudge.

When they were both released from the hug, Arthur fussed a bit, straightening out his clothes like he wasn't already covered in dirt. "Yes, well, now that that's settled, why don't you go back inside, Vargas? Alfred and I can keep this up until the sun has fully risen and if I know your grandfather, he'll be marching up to your door with fifty men and pitchforks any minute now."

"Actually" Feliciano hedged, "I was hoping I could go for a walk." He tried to laugh naturally, wincing slightly when the low chuckle reached his ears. One of the disadvantages of having sensitive hearing is differences in sound, especially voices, are nearly impossible to ignore. The way he sounded now would only stop being so jarring when he forgot what he used to sound like. And wasn't that a thought?

A thought that doubled as a waking nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

Alfred and Arthur exchanged uneasy glances. "Maybe that's not such a good idea," said Alfred. To his credit, he looked uneasy, but he didn't fail to look Feliciano in the eye. This also meant he could see the spark of anger before Feliciano himself had even registered it. "Look, it's not safe out, right? And you're kind of unstable right-"

"I thought you two were patrolling my house so you could keep me safe, not so you could imprison me in my own home."

"Feli, it's not like that-"

Arthur interrupted him sharply, "Yes, it is." Before anyone could recover enough to string words into a coherent sentence, he continued, "We don't know what was done to you, Vargas. And frankly, you haven't really be yourself since you woke up."

Taking this as his cue, Feli allowed his claws extend from his fingertips, allowed his pupils to narrow and lengthen. "Maybe this is me. A new me. A better me." Images of a futile fight were pushed to the forefront of his mind, fueling the rage and bitterness in his tone. His anger wasn't directed at them. Hopefully, they'd realize that eventually. Just not right now.

Experimentally, he flexed his fingers, putting the sharp and jagged ends on full display. "You don't know, do you? You don't even know what I can do."

imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry

He jerked, startling them into breaking their focus, then he leapt over their heads, landing soundlessly on a nearby thatched roof.

Their shouts followed him, like weights on his retreating back. Then, little by little, the weight slid off him, as each new rooftop increasing the distance between what he knew and where he was going, until there was nothing but his steaming breath in the morning air and a slight, pleasant burning sensation in his muscles to remind him that even with nothing grounding him, he was still alive.


Growing up with a hunter for a grandfather made for a somewhat lonely childhood. Lovino buried himself in books and training so he could one day attend the Hunter's Academy because he craved attention and praise almost as much as he genuinely wanted to help people.

Feliciano tagged along, training half-heartedly. Being a hunter had never been his life's goal. Violence wasn't really his thing, after all. He loved painting and drawing and cooking, but he also knew that if he separated himself from the hunter's life, he wouldn't see his brother or his grandfather anymore.

So, he attended the classes and participated in the training, not caring how many times he failed. And he fell in love.

Feliciano hissed softly. It was right on the edge of the village's borders that his foot met a soft patch of roof and fell through. There was a family in the house, he knew because they would often visit his restaurant. The oldest child, Bran, was about eleven, a cheerful boy with gray eyes and overgrown black hair. It often fell in his face when he spoke, prompting Feli to give him the pink clip he'd picked up from Elizaveta.

This being the case, it didn't surprise him nearly as much as it should have when a sleepy eyed boy stumbled out the front door.

Feliciano froze, his foot still stuck in the roof, hoping the lack of movement would convince the boy he'd only dreamed whatever sound he'd heard.

A tense moment passed before the boy blinked, clearing his bleary vision, and observed that there was someone with their foot stuck in his roof and it wasn't even Christmas.

Silver hair, gold eyes, claws and fangs, Bran wondered briefly, still trapped in the half-awake fog of the recently woken, if he should scream. Meanwhile, Feliciano alternated between gesticulating frantically and pulling at his captured foot.

"Mom! Dad! There's a Dogman trapped in our roof!"

Dogman? Now, see here…

When nothing happened, confusion crossed the boy's features. "Mom! Dad! Eli! Tyler! Mansen! Sarah!" He rushed back inside. By now, Feliciano had stopped struggling.

Barely five minutes had passed before Bran trudged back out of the house, his pajamas soaked in something that glistened in the first rays of dawn.

"They won't wake up." He choked out, hands uncurled at his sides, revealing bloodstained palms. "I don't know what's wrong with them." But he did. Feliciano could hear his erratic heartbeat, could see the sorrow already beginning to swirl around and obscure the light in his eyes. Trembling, he looked up, begging, "Please hel-"

And then the light left completely.

In the time it took to blink, his head was ripped from his neck, leaving nothing but the decapitated corpse of child. A corpse that continued to stand until the heart and legs gave out and the body crumpled, falling into a position that was almost prayer-like.

"Well" Feliciano whirled on the sound, "that was unexpected." The vampire, the one who'd changed him, sneered, pulling his fangs back in a rigid, flesh tearing grin. He smelled of iron. "I really thought I killed all of the worms in the woodworks, but it looks like I missed one."

He tossed Feli an object roughly the size of a melon. It landed in his hands with a loud squelch.

Two gray eyes stared up at him.

He was going to ask me to help him.

A foot tore its way through the roof, no longer caring about waking a sleeping family or about any harm it might cause unprotected skin.

I can't even help myself.

Feli gently laid the boy's head down, closed his eyes, and howled.

I've never been of use to anyone.

The vampire first watched with amusement, then with bored curiosity as he crouched close to the roof, his claws extended, breaths coming out in harsh gasps.

I've never wanted to hurt anyone.

The on his face abruptly turned to surprise when the only warning he had was a flash of silver before he felt fire in his shoulder and turned to see a large chunk of it was missing, what was left spewed black, spoiled blood.

I only ever wanted to be me.

Behind him, Feli chewed on the piece of flesh in his mouth and forced it down. The hunger he'd been feeling eased.

To be with the people I love.

"Oh?" A hand clapped on his shoulder, the vampire found himself delighted despite himself. "It seems as though the experiment was a success. A perfect vampire werewolf hybrid." He gestured to other houses. "I'd gotten so bored waiting for you to come out here that I did a few more experiments." Pouting, he added, "None of them worked, though. My employers," Here, Feliciano actually listened, "thought that the werewolf DNA in your blood would give you a better chance of surviving their little version of Wolfram's formula, but I had my doubts." With an almost apologetic shrug, he finished, "You just seemed so weak to me. And besides," A feral growl issued from the hybrid's lips. A warning. "what does it matter if a few more flies die?"

I want your blood.

Feliciano lunged, though this time the vampire was ready. He moved to the left, except the lunge was a feint and soon more flesh had been torn from his bones. Not pausing to stop, the newly acquired flesh was spat out, landing in a gory mess on the snow.

"You sure you want to do this?"

The vampire leapt from the roof, landing gracefully on another rooftop three houses to the right. He was quickly followed.

"Aren't you worried about your humanity?"

Concerned voices were approaching. Feliciano could barely make sense of what they were saying but it mattered very little.

"Aren't you worried about your family?"

If he was hoping for a break or a response, he didn't get one. An ear joined most of his throat in the snow.

"Jeez," he scoffed, "what a monster I've created."

He tried calling on his sire bond to control the beast, tried ordering him to stop. Feliciano hesitated mid-swipe, confusion slipping into the rage that powered him, and the dark haired vampire used the chance to swipe his feet out from under him.

He rolled down the roof, only managing to stop his decent when he lodged his claws into the gutter.

"Feliciano!"

While he tried to swing himself back on the roof, he should irritated thoughts at whoever kept calling his name. Couldn't they see he was trying to concentrate at the moment?

The sole of a heavy boot crushed his hands.

"You don't get it do you?" snarled the vampire, all hint of humor gone. "You haven't even realized?" Through the haze of pain and rage, Feliciano shot the not-boy a questioning look. "The sun's up, Love. I should be dust. But I'm not, am I? And also," He rubbed his hand against one of his wounds. The palm burst into blue flames, the heat of which Feliciano could already feel on his face. "I can use magic." An expression that looked vaguely human flickered across his features. "I was experimented on, too."

A boy begged his mother to let him play outside. She mussed his hair affectionately. It was going to be time for dinner soon but she didn't think letting him play in the snow for a few minutes would hurt. With a smile and a laugh, she let him go.

And never saw him again.

Feliciano drew in a sharp breath when the boot suddenly stopped trying to mash his hands into paste. Unexpectedly, he looked up to see the vampire holding out a hand to him.

"What are you doing?"

"I changed my mind."

Too stunned to argue, Feliciano allowed himself to be pulled up. "The organization I worked for took something from me a long time ago. I don't owe them my loyalty. Plus, I've already tested you, so my job here is technically done."

"What are you talking about?"

"I had orders to test your capabilities." He grimaced, working his injured neck and shoulder while one hand tried to stem the flow from his ear. "I did that. If you got away from me, escaped somehow when I was trying to bring you in, then I guess it can't be helped. The old bastards back home will just have to find another lapdog to catch you." Clapping his free hand on Feli's shoulder, he added, "Don't let them catch you."

Then he moved to leave.

"Wait!"

The vampire turned, eyebrows raised, and Feli asked something he knew he might regret one day. "What's your name?"

It could have been a trick of the light, but Feliciano could have sworn he smiled. And, for once, it didn't look mocking or threatening. Just a little sad.

"It's Eric."

A bang broke through the air, followed by a spray of blood.

Eric's body fell to the ground.