Not remotely nervous about this chapter... Ahahaha that would be a LIE. This is by no means the end or the climax of the story (I fear that may go on for some time) but it is a big reveal you guys have been waiting for for a while... I hope it lives up to the anticipation. With that in mind, I probably shouldn't have written the whole thing while stupidly tired in the middle of the night, but oh well. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just using it to toy with you.

"I'm going to tell you everything."

Bertrand was just staring at him, a mixture of horror and curiosity stamped across his face, and Robin wondered, for a moment, if this was really a good idea. What if Bertrand was really angry? What if he threw Robin out, or shut him back in the wardrobe- no, that was unfair. He'd done that to protect him; almost everything Bertrand did was to protect him. He had nothing to fear, physically speaking, from the vampire in front of him.

Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't break Robin's heart just as easily as Robin could break his.

Bertrand wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not, now; no, that wasn't right, he did need to know. He wasn't sure he was ready, that was all - he hoped Robin wouldn't go into sordid detail, but even if he kept it vague there were so many things Bertrand could only desperately hope weren't the case. What if he said that, instead of sleeping with Jonno, he'd been training as a slayer? What if he said he'd been out looking for somewhere new to live?

Robin held Bertrand's heart in his hands, and he doubted the boy even knew his own power to destroy it.

"Please, please don't hate me, B. I didn't mean to keep you in the dark for so long, or... well, I didn't mean you to think all these horrible things... I just..." His breather took a deep breath and Bertrand followed suit, holding all that useless air inside his useless lungs in the hope that it would somehow form a cushion between him and Robin's next words. These came, after a long pause, in a rush of breath. "Jonno's been taking my blood."

The world around them seemed to screech to a halt; admittedly, there hadn't been a lot of action going on in the room anyway, but the ticking of the clock seemed to slow and the sound of water gurgling through the pipes seemed to drop away altogether as Bertrand absorbed those words. He didn't know what they meant, he didn't understand... the first coherent thought that reached his brain fell straight out of his mouth.
"You're not part of the donor programme."

He'd gone to great lengths, when the Slayers' Guild first began offering donor blood to hungry vampires, to ensure that Robin's name was never added to the donor list. Mina Van Helsing had had nightmares about him for weeks. Robin hadn't wanted anyone drinking his blood but Bertrand, and Bertrand didn't want anyone tracking the boy's delicious blood back to the source and killing his most precious treasure. The slayers had agreed, and the system had worked for years. He didn't understand why that would change now.
"No, I'm not. I told you, Bertrand, ages ago. No-one but you."

Bertrand didn't look particularly enlightened by this, so Robin squeezed his hand gently and took a moment to think about what he was going to say before continuing.
"When I was a kid, yeah, there were these sweets everyone really liked, with... they had milk chocolate ones with white outsides and white chocolate ones with brown outsides, like opposites, see." The vampire was looking at him as if he'd grown an extra head. "And they were lush. But then they stopped making them. And every so often I'd be like oh, I could really go a packet of those sweets right now, but there weren't any. There never would be again."
"A heartbreaking story," Bertrand conceded, "but if you're going to break mine I suggest you get on wi-"
"Will you just listen?" The vampire's mouth snapped shut. "And then they brought these sweets back and it was great, I mean, they changed the recipe and they didn't look quite right but it was close, y'know? It was nice." He faltered for a second, looking away. "I'm going to be dead soon, Bertrand. I - breather me - I won't exist. And I thought... in case you missed me being all clumsy and cutting myself all the time..."

He trailed off helplessly. The exact moment Bertrand put two and two together was clearly visible on his face; he didn't seem to know how to react as his jaw fell open.
"You've been... bottling blood? For me?" Robin nodded and his lover lapsed into silence again. He shifted uneasily; he'd expected either relief and smiles or anger and recriminations, but he hadn't counted on this complete lack of indication as to how Bertrand felt about it all. He bore it for a few minutes, but then he started to get genuinely worried.

"B-?"
"No. No, that doesn't add up- you came home smelling of flowers, and chip fat, and cologne-"
"And blood." The vampire looked up at him sharply. "Remember when I brought home the bears? That was the day I started it... I came home and you smelt the blood on me. And you were so worried, B, I thought... I didn't want you to be upset like that again, so on my way home I'd go and stand somewhere that smelt stronger than blood. The slayers have got quite good at it, apparently, it reduces the temptation for any nearby vampires after they donate."

Robin was peering at him anxiously.
"Bertrand, say something. Please."

What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to react to the revelation that the one person who meant the most to him in the whole world had been bleeding himself dry in case, one day a few centuries down the line, Bertrand got a craving?
"And... I suppose the phone calls were Jonno trying to be subtle." Robin shrugged, looking faintly ashamed of himself. He had nothing to be ashamed of, Bertrand was sure of that. "No wonder you came back dizzy... how much?" Robin shrugged again.
"As much as they'd take. I've got my own walk-in fridge at the base." He smiled hesitantly. "Although some of that is pizza. No, sorry, kidding. Not... shouldn't joke."

Before he was aware of moving, he was on top of his lover, glad of the windowseat's depth as he pushed Robin down to lie on his back. He could hear the boy's heart pounding as Bertrand swept down and kissed him, nipping viciously at his lips until the breather moaned and opened up to let his tongue in. It was a while before he spoke.
"No more. Fog, this is why you passed out the other night, isn't it? You idiot." Robin flinched, but Bertrand wasn't finished. "You perfect, wonderful, noble idiot. Why would you-? Why didn't you just tell me?"
"You'd have stopped me."
"Well, yes," he kissed him again, "but - how could you let me think so badly of you, Bran? How could I let myself?" Robin didn't seem interested in playing the 'Blame Bertrand' game, though, too busy rocking his hips up against Bertrand and pulling him back down to claim his lips.

"I mean it, though." Bertrand sat up at last, pulling Robin with him. "No more. I don't need it, Robin, and right now you still do."
"I'm fine, I just need some time to recover, and-"
"No. Thank you, really, but your health is... You do know any other breather on the planet would be disgusted by this?" Robin grimaced.
"Couple of people might have mentioned it, yeah."
"I... fog, Robin, I really thought... I love you so much."
"I could never cheat on you, Bertrand. You've ruined me for everyone else, now, no-one will ever compare." He squeezed his hands firmly. "Guess you're stuck with me."

Bertrand was running his hands through Robin's hair, which always soothed them both a little.
"Guess I am," he murmured, and Robin had to strain to hear him. "Lucky me." From anyone else, he would have suspected sarcasm, but he knew Bertrand meant it.
"Good," he managed around the lump in his throat, "then you know I'm not going anywhere no matter how many cupboards you put me in. If it happens again we'll just have to put a pillow in there or something."
"Bran-"
"Bertrand, I mean it. I don't want us to fall apart. I nearly broke us by keeping secrets, I'm not abandoning you when you need me as well." A kiss was all the answer he got, and he just hoped it was an agreeing-with-my-sensible-boyfriend type of kiss.

A few minutes later, he was curled up with his head resting on Bertrand's lap. He was getting to be quite fond of this windowseat, actually, despite the disconcerting lack of corresponding window.
"Bran," Bertrand began, and Robin smiled. He was never 'Bran' this often in one day; Bertrand must have really forgiven him after all. "I know you don't want to talk about this, but... we need to at least think about what we're going to do about your family." Robin sighed softly; he knew the vampire was right, but that didn't make it easy.
"Ten more minutes snuggling?" Bertrand raised an eyebrow. "Then we'll talk about it, I promise."

Bertrand wriggled until Robin had to sit up, shifting until they were wrapped around each other, sitting against the wall, feet on the seat and legs entwined. Apparently his definition of snuggling wasn't enough for the vampire.
"Mm, alright, you're lucky I love you." Bertrand was teasing, but Robin took advantage of their new position to make eye contact.
"I know I am." He was even luckier that Bertrand would say it now, without Robin saying it first, without needing it to be repeated back to him to stop him worrying himself to death about having said the wrong thing. Sometimes, though, it was good to remind him. "I love you too."

There was silence for a few minutes, Bertrand choosing to communicate by rubbing their noses together instead of actually speaking, until...
"Oh yeah, before I forget." Robin moved his head back slightly to see what was so important, and Bertrand delivered a swift kiss to the tip of his nose, smiling. "Idiot."