"I don't know where to start," Finn admits when you get him a new cup of tea.
You sit two spaces away from him. Not that it really makes a difference. You know how fast vampires can move. Still, the distance comforts your irrational side.
"Maybe at the beginning."
He just laughs.
"I don't think we have enough time for that."
You take a sip of your cold tea and try to not let your hands shake out of excess adrenaline. Your nausea hasn't abated and you don't think it will: body cramping from fever and chills.
You feel the beginnings of a migraine. This one, at least, was caused by getting slammed against the floor instead of the ghost haunting you.
"… I was killed over a year ago as a vampire," Finn eventually admits, "I hated what I was. I didn't like hurting people the way my siblings did."
So his siblings were turned too. You don't ask about them.
"How are you still alive?"
"Our mother was a very powerful witch. She brought me back in an attempt to rid the world of vampires."
A prick of fear drags its nails up your neck.
"… Are you? Trying to?"
A humorless smile twitches at the corners of his mouth.
"Hardly. She's the one who planned on killing me. Someone else just beat her to it."
Oh god. Finn's story bears echos of one you've heard before and you have to wonder if murderous parents come with vampirism.
"I was alright with it at the time," Finn muses as he stares into his cup. He frowns slightly, worry lines deepening. His tea doesn't hold the answers he seeks. "I wanted out. I hated my existence. I was half insane from… Well, it hardly matters now."
"I…" You don't have anything to say. Any comfort you could offer wouldn't make a dent in the pain you see in Finn's face. "I'm sorry."
"It's hardly your fault," he dismisses, "I rejected her proposal and I've been evading her for the better part of a year."
"What changed your mind?"
Finn's eyes close.
"Death," he admits, "It's cold. And alone. I'd rather live as a vampire than go back to that oblivion. I couldn't condemn my family to that eternity of suffering, no matter what they've done to me."
There's a lingering pause before you can think of anything to say.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," you eventually settle on, a safe answer, "I'm here if you need somewhere to hide."
He laughs low in his throat.
"I don't think there's much you could do, but I appreciate the offer. Witches are not bound to the same conventions that vampires are. Dead witches, even less so. She's been possessing others and coming after me for months."
You shift, uncertain. "Still," you say, "You have a friend if you need it."
Finn tilts his head.
"Most would not be that forgiving."
"It probably won't be the last time I get body slammed by a vampire," you say dryly, "Or the last time one of you gives me a concussion."
You're definitely getting tired of it though.
Finn blinks and sets down his tea abruptly.
"I'm sorry, it slipped my mind. Here," he says, rolling up his sleeve, "My blood will heal you."
Your nose wrinkles. "No thank you, I'm not really a fan."
He looks at you flatly.
"Head injuries are serious for humans. Please allow me to heal you."
You look into his determined eyes. You could fight him on this, but you're tired. He's not going to take no for an answer.
To be honest, you're tired of being in pain.
"Fine," you give in, "Just put it in my tea."
Finn has to bite his wrist three times before there's enough blood for you. His healing factor would fascinate you if you didn't have to choke down the metallic taste. You swallow and taste iron. The tea really doesn't help at all.
"That doesn't get easier, does it?"
Finn laughs and it almost sounds normal. Despite yourself, you laugh too— an edge of hysteria making itself known.
There's some kind of special irony in the first human friend you've managed to make being a vampire. Somehow, you didn't think you would ever meet another one in the wild. The Mikaelsons cemented themselves in your life as the only vampires in your life. You start to wonder if you've met others, how many times you've been in danger and not known it.
You're too exhausted to contemplate it tonight.
"… Did you really think I was trying to hurt you?" You ask after your laughter dies down and Finn get's that somber look again.
He hesitates.
"I had to be sure," he eventually says and while it's not the worst thing he could've said, it's not the best either.
You wonder if there's something about your face that screams untrustworthy, or if vampires are all just jaded. You press your fingers into your temples and finish the tea despite your complaints. It erases your headache and ruminating migraine, along with all the caffeine in your bloodstream. It leaves you slow and lethargic. If only you could get used to the taste.
Maybe you could convince one of your vampire friends to create vampire blood pills. You're not sure how that would work.
(Pity you didn't go into pharmacology).
A pharmacist would probably be able to get sleeping pills potent enough to stop you from dreaming completely. You yawn into your sleeve and Finn gets up as if to leave.
"It's late, you need rest."
"No," you say with a force that surprises you. You soften your voice. "Please, don't leave yet. I can make coffee."
Finn's eyes scan you. They see too much.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" He asks, "Really?"
You don't answer.
You can't.
Finn approaches you slowly, like he's afraid you're going to run. You look up at him and don't speak. His eyes remain unreadable. You don't stop him when he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder. The warmth and comfort make you shudder in a way you don't expect. The two of you haven't touched much, even before when you thought he was just human.
You think the last time you were hugged was a month ago.
A sudden ferocity rushes through you and you desperately wish the Mikaelsons were here to fix all of your problems.
That line of thinking is exactly why that is a bad idea, you tell yourself. This is why you asked for time.
You already know that. You still don't like it.
"I shouldn't have to tell you that you can tell me anything," Finn says simply before a wry smile twists his lips, "I did spill my proverbial guts to you, after all."
You laugh at that, even if it's humorless. He leans back and you rest your hand on top of the one on your shoulder.
"Can you just stay?" You ask and try to ignore the edge of desperation in your voice, "I don't want to sleep."
He watches you for a moment. Your grasp unfurls, but he doesn't move.
"Alright," he says, "Alright."
Finn comes by more now that you know his secret. He stays the night more than he should, sleeping in your living room or your guest room. More often than not, though, he stays awake through the night with you and entertains you with stories about centuries long past.
You get to learn about old royals and betrayals of people dead so long their bones are dust. His stories skip too much time, but you don't ask. Not when he still twitches when the topic of families come up— when he's giving you the space you've asked for. He hasn't asked you about your nightmares again.
Gratitude warms your feelings towards him.
You figure he can keep what secrets he has left when he's been respectful towards yours.
You start to like him more than you should.
One night, when the two of you are collapsed onto your fold-out couch, too close considering the circumstances, you pause. Finn is unexpected collateral. You don't want him hurt because of you. (You don't… you don't care for him the way you care for the Mikaelsons— definitely not in the way the Mikaelsons' twisted affection runs towards you. But you've been alive long enough to know that you love in a million different ways, in a million different forms. You also know the Mikaelsons will not draw that distinction).
"I don't know if this is such a good idea. My friends…" You hesitate, "Are possessive."
Finn's muted eyes scan you.
"There are precious few on this planet who can harm me. I am stronger than your friends."
The Mikaelsons can, you want to say, but you don't know how old Finn is— how much he knows. You can't give them away like that.
Not when you don't know the outcome.
"They want to be more than friends," you admit instead of your other thoughts. It's the first time you've spoken of it aloud, "I don't know what to do."
"What do you want to do?" Finn asks.
It's a good question.
Finn sets up a gardening station in your garage and he plants bulbs in pots while you nap fitfully on the couch. He never says anything about your nightmares or nights you wake up screaming, clutching limbs you're certain are broken to your chest.
He's a good friend for that.
He still looks at you with concern in his eyes: slight lines around his mouth deepening. You suppose you can't have it all.
Finn covers your garden beds with straw. You don't really know why and Finn doesn't explain. He insists you've been overwatering your houseplants even though you only water them once a week. But then he takes over and you notice new leaves on your fiddle leaf fig.
You think, with his help, you might actually manage to grow something this spring.
It's rare that Finn doesn't stop by, but he's good about giving you your space. You use your time away to contemplate what to do once your month is over.
You could ask for more time.
You suspect that would be poorly received.
What really sways you is your suspicion that all the time in the world wouldn't help you. It's harder still to make a decision when you know the Mikaelsons are not a monolith. They fight and back stab and try to murder one another at any given opportunity. You know about the daggers, Klaus's dangerous tantrums, Elijah resorting to attempted fratricide out of love for his family. You don't want to get caught in the middle.
(You know, also, you cannot pick and choose which ones to care for. Which ones to love).
Strangely enough, the easiest one to make a decision on is Kol. You've seen the way his siblings look at him. You can read in-between the murderous lines. It's odd, then, that the wildcard sibling is the one you think that cares for you the most.
You… care for him too, even if you're not ready to admit it out loud.
Rebekah is harder. You like her despite her impulsivity. She's bright and a little condescending and gives you the feeling of champagne in your veins. You've long forgiven her for the kiss. (You can understand the feeling of being least wanted). She seems to get along best with her siblings. The glue holding them together, then. Perhaps the most important member to get on your good side.
It'd be easy enough to love her, you think.
You don't know if Elijah even likes you at all. But then you remember soufflés and dumplings and the careful consideration in his gaze after you offered to let him compel you and you're not sure anymore.
And Klaus—
Well.
Klaus is most likely to tear you apart. You just hope he loves you enough to put you back together.
You emerge one evening to Finn sprawled out on your settee like he lives there, freshly brewed chai sitting to his side.
"Do you just live here, at this point?"
"It's a reasonable assumption to make."
You roll your eyes and take a sip of his chai. The peppercorn burns. You yawn into your elbow.
"I'm going to make some espresso, want any?"
Finn wrinkles his nose in such a childlike gesture it looks out of place on his face.
"No, thank you."
You stifle the laugh that tries to rise in your throat. You want to tell him drinking espresso with you is the least he can do after he hid your caffeine pills. You decide, correctly, not to remind him of that particular argument.
You head towards the kitchen to make your coffee when there's a knock at your door. You pause. It's too late to be the postman— the sun went down hours ago.
You remember the date.
Your heart stops before heaving into motion.
"You have to hide!" You mouth, viciously aware of how strong vampire hearing is. Finn's eyebrows draw together and he opens his mouth to say something. You hold a frantic finger up to your lips.
His eyes sharpen and then flicker to the door. He must see something in your desperation because he nods solemnly and leaves.
You're going to have to deal with that later. Finn trusts you more now, but barely. He's too old to have full confidence in you— you know that. You just hope he's smart enough to stay put in his hiding place for the time being.
You open the door with jerky movements, hand vibrating at your side.
"I know you said you may need more than a month," Klaus says, holding a bouquet of flowers you can't find this time of year, "But I wanted to stop by."
You should have remembered the date.
Idiot.
"Klaus—" you start, but don't have the chance to finish.
"I know, you still want to be alone. I wanted to…" Klaus hesitates, "Apologize."
You do not have the time for this. "It's alright, Klaus," you lie through your teeth, "But now is not a great time."
His brow wrinkles.
"Are you quite alright?" He asks and there's real concern in his voice when you wish there wasn't, "You don't look well."
"I'm fine, Kate stopped by for dinner," you say but Klaus freezes.
"Love," he states carefully, "Either step outside or invite me in right now."
It's your turn to be confused.
"What?"
"I believe he's talking about me," Finn sighs from directly behind you, "I should have expected this. Hello, brother."
Oh they have got to be kidding.
Hahahaha so remember when I said I'd be switching my update schedule to once a week from now on?
I'm a lying liar who lies. I got less writing done on vacation than expected Sorry guys!