"This . . . this is insanity."
"You're the one who wanted to go hunting, y'know."
"I didn't know you meant we were going to K-Mart!"
"Well, yeah, I did leave that out for a reason . . ."
"Both of you, be quiet. You're giving me a migraine."
Sometimes, even when they were trapped together under the awning that ran over the loading ramp in the back of a department store, it felt as though the three of them were somehow destined to be an entertaining if dysfunctional family. They stood huddled together, taking shelter from the rain that had started pouring unexpectedly from the sky minutes earlier. Christian would have been content to keep going in the cool summer shower, Edge was careless as usual, but Gangrel insisted they stop until the rain slacked off. That had, of course, prompted an endless amount of jokes about him melting, which in turn led the brothers into an impromptu production of "Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead", though it was abruptly ended when Gangrel pushed Edge off the highest part of the ramp and threatened to duct tape him inside a tanning bed if he didn't shut up.
Christian had watched with barely concealed fascination as the cuts and bruises that had formed dark and ugly on Edge's skin from the fall healed themselves before his eyes. He reached out with a tentative hand, surprised that the flesh was solid beneath his touch and not just an illusion of some sort. While they waited for the rain to ease, Gangrel was flipping idly through an abandoned K-Mart ad, muttering to himself about them being cheaper than Lowe's. Edge was pacing impatiently, wishing they would just hurry up and start walking again. Christian sat perched on the railing, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, watching the rain as it fell in sheets just out of his reach. The black pavement of the parking lot glittered under the rain and the street lamps reflecting in the puddles, much brighter and more vivid than he could ever remember seeing. Faint rainbow patterns could even be detected swirling about and then disappearing.
His head jerked up suddenly when he heard Edge quietly and badly singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." "Okay, real cute, Edge. I'm sick of that movie, thanks."
Edge turned to stare in disbelief at his brother, eyes widened to almost comical proportions. "What?"
"You were singing," Christian replied as if that had been the most obvious thing in the world, rolling his eyes. "And you're a horrible singer, too."
"No worse than you," Edge mumbled absently, scratching at his head and frowning. "But Chris, I, uh, didn't say anything."
"Look, dipshit, you were singing. Just quit it, okay?"
Edge blinked, obviously not at all about to confess to something he didn't do. "Christian, I'm serious. I didn't say anything."
"Oh, so...great. Now I'm hearing voices."
A slight hesitation before Edge spoke again, voice quiet and timid. "Did it sound like mine?"
"Yeah."
Edge turned to face Gangrel. "Grel?" Finding him completely submerged in the ad, he poked him with the toe of his boot, receiving an irritated glance for his effort. "When did our bond form?"
"As soon as I changed you. Why?" He noticed how Edge jerked his head towards Christian and nodded in understanding. "Ah. Well, it's about time he started accepting it."
"Accepting what? Are you telling me I can, like, read minds and crap now?"
"No," Edge explained, seating himself on the railing beside his brother and attempting the same easy balance Christian displayed unknowingly; he managed to catch himself before he fell off and onto a delivery truck. Embarrassed slightly but not willing to show it, he settled for leaning against the banister instead, going on as if nothing had happened. "You can read mine and I can read yours. And, to some extent, the same's true for you and Gangrel, I would assume." He cast a look to Gangrel who nodded grudgingly.
"Yes, it is. If I catch you prying about unwanted in my head, though, little one, I'll make a feast of you."
"Whatever," Christian snorted. "I don't even *wanna* know what goes on in your head. Prob'ly plans for global domination and Martha Stewart cooking recipes or something."
"Or Martha Stewart's plans for global domination," Edge chimed in helpfully, grinning when Gangrel barred his fangs at him. "That would probably be a whole lot scarier if you didn't have the ad open to the home interior section."
"Mock my refurnishing all you want," Gangrel sniffed in feigned arrogance. "You'll regret it when I turn my house into the epitome of taste."
"You know, there was a time when I was scared of you," Edge started, folding his arms across his chest. "Then I realized you were just a big ol' decorating teddy bear that needed some love. And you have a weakness for cappucino."
"Mocha . . ."
"That's how we should have bought him off," Edge grumbled, leaning over and making an exaggerated show of whispering to his brother. "We should've just ditched him at a Starbucks or something. That would've solved everything."
"I heard that, boy. You should learn to respect your elders."
"I would if they weren't coffee junkies."
"Now that I think of it," Christian interrupted, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "remember how in that Leprechaun movie all they had to do was throw shoes out to keep the guy from killing them? 'Cause it drove him nuts to have messy shoes or something just as stupid? We could have hidden out in Foot Locker."
"As hilarious as you might think you are, I'm dangerously close to murdering both of you," Gangrel warned in a low, threatening voice. "I'm cold, wet, hungry, and my pride has been kicked and beaten by you two little monsters all evening. Provided I don't go home and bathe in holy water and drive a wooden crucifix into my heart, you can expect proper retribution." He paused, shaking his head in disgust. "In the course of an hour you've managed to insult, degrade, humiliate, and otherwise abuse me." He sighed quietly, ruffling his newspaper ad noisily. "Brats."
"Dude. I think we pissed the witch off this time."
"Which old witch?"
"The wicked witch!" Christian replied cheerfully. He and Edge linked arms and started dancing around on the ramp, laughing and taking off running when Gangrel threw everything beside him at them, including several empty crates and a crowbar.
"Find your own goddamned food!" He cried angrily, throwing another crate at them for emphasis. "You can both starve for all I care!"
It took all of ten minutes before Edge and Christian managed to calm Gangrel down and back out onto the street, into the light sprinkles that remained of the rain. He took care to walk several steps in front of them, looking over his shoulder every so often to make sure they hadn't wandered off like two unruly children.
"Hey Edge?"
"Yeah?"
The words to whatever Christian had planned on saying went completely out of his head when his brother turned his head casually to see what Christian wanted. He stared, mouth gaping, up at Edge, who had taken off his dark sunglasses to wipe the spots off with his shirt.
"What the hell--!"
"Um . . . Christian? You okay?"
"Dude! Your eyes! They're . . ."
"In my head, yes."
Christian smacked Edge hard in the back of the head. "They're fucking *green* for Christ's sake! And not just like normal, I mean, they're like . . . they're glowing. That is seriously messed up."
Edge shrugged carelessly and slid his glasses back on. "Now you know why I wear these things."
"Huh uh! I've been around you my whole life and I've never seen that!"
"That's because before, you were mortal." Christian stopped dead in his tracks, mouth still dropped open. "Close your mouth, Chris. People might get the wrong impression about you if you walk around like you've got lock-jaw."
"This is *so* not right."
"Hey Grel! Turn around for a sec." Gangrel reluctantly did as he was told, almost sending Christian into cardiac arrest when he noticed, for the first time, Gangrel's usually creepy but relatively normal black eyes were completely black, only the barest hint of a white outline around the outer rims of the irises.
Unimpressed, Gangrel rolled his eyes and went on walking. "You had to do that to him, didn't you?"
"I can't . . . whoa. This is weird." He tugged on Edge's jacket sleeve, slowing his brother's brisk walking pace. "What color are mine now?"
"Blue. Bright blue. Like really clear water. They're kinda pretty, actually."
"Edge, please stop hitting on your little brother. Have at least some dignity."
"Fuck off, Grel."
"Fine. Don't blame me when you have little inbred vampire babies, then."
"Well, besides the fact he doesn't have fallopian tubes . . ."
"Um...Edge?"
Edge stopped his bickering with his sire momentarily, ready to start a new argument with Christian but surprised to see he was half a block behind, staring into the passenger side window of a car parked by the curb. He was about to ask what exactly he thought he was doing when he came to stand beside his brother, immediately realizing what was on Christian's mind.
"Is there a reason why I can't see myself?"
"A pretty good one that you're gonna smack yourself for not figuring out. You don't have a reflection anymore."
"Seriously?"
"No, this is all some elaborate scheme David Copperfield and I made up to drive you insane. Yes, dumbass. Seriously." He pointed to the window. "You don't see me in there either, do you?"
"No, but I see dead people."
Not even bothering to dignify that with a response, Edge tugged on a strand of Christian's hair. "You always complained about having picture days at school. I guess now you don't have to worry about that, huh?"
"I can't even get my picture taken now? But I've got pictures of you!"
Edge shook his head sadly. "Go back and take a look at all the pictures you've taken since I was changed. I promise you that I won't be in them."
Christian put a hand to his head, snickering when that didn't register in the mirror, either. "This is crazy . . . but man, it's fuckin' awesome." He ducked below the window, popped up again, and grinned broadly. "Really fuckin' awesome."
"Come on, Chris, you'll have lots of time to play with that at home. Yeah, it's fun for a while, but it gets old quick, trust me."
"Now you see me, now you don't! Now you see me, now you --"
"Now I'm gonna beat you if you don't hurry your ass up. I'm starving."
"Killjoy."
"Bitch."
"From what I hear, you're on your back more than a coma patient." Edge growled something inaudible and quickened his pace. Christian smirked. "And score another one for me."
"You're the one who wanted to go hunting, y'know."
"I didn't know you meant we were going to K-Mart!"
"Well, yeah, I did leave that out for a reason . . ."
"Both of you, be quiet. You're giving me a migraine."
Sometimes, even when they were trapped together under the awning that ran over the loading ramp in the back of a department store, it felt as though the three of them were somehow destined to be an entertaining if dysfunctional family. They stood huddled together, taking shelter from the rain that had started pouring unexpectedly from the sky minutes earlier. Christian would have been content to keep going in the cool summer shower, Edge was careless as usual, but Gangrel insisted they stop until the rain slacked off. That had, of course, prompted an endless amount of jokes about him melting, which in turn led the brothers into an impromptu production of "Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead", though it was abruptly ended when Gangrel pushed Edge off the highest part of the ramp and threatened to duct tape him inside a tanning bed if he didn't shut up.
Christian had watched with barely concealed fascination as the cuts and bruises that had formed dark and ugly on Edge's skin from the fall healed themselves before his eyes. He reached out with a tentative hand, surprised that the flesh was solid beneath his touch and not just an illusion of some sort. While they waited for the rain to ease, Gangrel was flipping idly through an abandoned K-Mart ad, muttering to himself about them being cheaper than Lowe's. Edge was pacing impatiently, wishing they would just hurry up and start walking again. Christian sat perched on the railing, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, watching the rain as it fell in sheets just out of his reach. The black pavement of the parking lot glittered under the rain and the street lamps reflecting in the puddles, much brighter and more vivid than he could ever remember seeing. Faint rainbow patterns could even be detected swirling about and then disappearing.
His head jerked up suddenly when he heard Edge quietly and badly singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." "Okay, real cute, Edge. I'm sick of that movie, thanks."
Edge turned to stare in disbelief at his brother, eyes widened to almost comical proportions. "What?"
"You were singing," Christian replied as if that had been the most obvious thing in the world, rolling his eyes. "And you're a horrible singer, too."
"No worse than you," Edge mumbled absently, scratching at his head and frowning. "But Chris, I, uh, didn't say anything."
"Look, dipshit, you were singing. Just quit it, okay?"
Edge blinked, obviously not at all about to confess to something he didn't do. "Christian, I'm serious. I didn't say anything."
"Oh, so...great. Now I'm hearing voices."
A slight hesitation before Edge spoke again, voice quiet and timid. "Did it sound like mine?"
"Yeah."
Edge turned to face Gangrel. "Grel?" Finding him completely submerged in the ad, he poked him with the toe of his boot, receiving an irritated glance for his effort. "When did our bond form?"
"As soon as I changed you. Why?" He noticed how Edge jerked his head towards Christian and nodded in understanding. "Ah. Well, it's about time he started accepting it."
"Accepting what? Are you telling me I can, like, read minds and crap now?"
"No," Edge explained, seating himself on the railing beside his brother and attempting the same easy balance Christian displayed unknowingly; he managed to catch himself before he fell off and onto a delivery truck. Embarrassed slightly but not willing to show it, he settled for leaning against the banister instead, going on as if nothing had happened. "You can read mine and I can read yours. And, to some extent, the same's true for you and Gangrel, I would assume." He cast a look to Gangrel who nodded grudgingly.
"Yes, it is. If I catch you prying about unwanted in my head, though, little one, I'll make a feast of you."
"Whatever," Christian snorted. "I don't even *wanna* know what goes on in your head. Prob'ly plans for global domination and Martha Stewart cooking recipes or something."
"Or Martha Stewart's plans for global domination," Edge chimed in helpfully, grinning when Gangrel barred his fangs at him. "That would probably be a whole lot scarier if you didn't have the ad open to the home interior section."
"Mock my refurnishing all you want," Gangrel sniffed in feigned arrogance. "You'll regret it when I turn my house into the epitome of taste."
"You know, there was a time when I was scared of you," Edge started, folding his arms across his chest. "Then I realized you were just a big ol' decorating teddy bear that needed some love. And you have a weakness for cappucino."
"Mocha . . ."
"That's how we should have bought him off," Edge grumbled, leaning over and making an exaggerated show of whispering to his brother. "We should've just ditched him at a Starbucks or something. That would've solved everything."
"I heard that, boy. You should learn to respect your elders."
"I would if they weren't coffee junkies."
"Now that I think of it," Christian interrupted, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "remember how in that Leprechaun movie all they had to do was throw shoes out to keep the guy from killing them? 'Cause it drove him nuts to have messy shoes or something just as stupid? We could have hidden out in Foot Locker."
"As hilarious as you might think you are, I'm dangerously close to murdering both of you," Gangrel warned in a low, threatening voice. "I'm cold, wet, hungry, and my pride has been kicked and beaten by you two little monsters all evening. Provided I don't go home and bathe in holy water and drive a wooden crucifix into my heart, you can expect proper retribution." He paused, shaking his head in disgust. "In the course of an hour you've managed to insult, degrade, humiliate, and otherwise abuse me." He sighed quietly, ruffling his newspaper ad noisily. "Brats."
"Dude. I think we pissed the witch off this time."
"Which old witch?"
"The wicked witch!" Christian replied cheerfully. He and Edge linked arms and started dancing around on the ramp, laughing and taking off running when Gangrel threw everything beside him at them, including several empty crates and a crowbar.
"Find your own goddamned food!" He cried angrily, throwing another crate at them for emphasis. "You can both starve for all I care!"
It took all of ten minutes before Edge and Christian managed to calm Gangrel down and back out onto the street, into the light sprinkles that remained of the rain. He took care to walk several steps in front of them, looking over his shoulder every so often to make sure they hadn't wandered off like two unruly children.
"Hey Edge?"
"Yeah?"
The words to whatever Christian had planned on saying went completely out of his head when his brother turned his head casually to see what Christian wanted. He stared, mouth gaping, up at Edge, who had taken off his dark sunglasses to wipe the spots off with his shirt.
"What the hell--!"
"Um . . . Christian? You okay?"
"Dude! Your eyes! They're . . ."
"In my head, yes."
Christian smacked Edge hard in the back of the head. "They're fucking *green* for Christ's sake! And not just like normal, I mean, they're like . . . they're glowing. That is seriously messed up."
Edge shrugged carelessly and slid his glasses back on. "Now you know why I wear these things."
"Huh uh! I've been around you my whole life and I've never seen that!"
"That's because before, you were mortal." Christian stopped dead in his tracks, mouth still dropped open. "Close your mouth, Chris. People might get the wrong impression about you if you walk around like you've got lock-jaw."
"This is *so* not right."
"Hey Grel! Turn around for a sec." Gangrel reluctantly did as he was told, almost sending Christian into cardiac arrest when he noticed, for the first time, Gangrel's usually creepy but relatively normal black eyes were completely black, only the barest hint of a white outline around the outer rims of the irises.
Unimpressed, Gangrel rolled his eyes and went on walking. "You had to do that to him, didn't you?"
"I can't . . . whoa. This is weird." He tugged on Edge's jacket sleeve, slowing his brother's brisk walking pace. "What color are mine now?"
"Blue. Bright blue. Like really clear water. They're kinda pretty, actually."
"Edge, please stop hitting on your little brother. Have at least some dignity."
"Fuck off, Grel."
"Fine. Don't blame me when you have little inbred vampire babies, then."
"Well, besides the fact he doesn't have fallopian tubes . . ."
"Um...Edge?"
Edge stopped his bickering with his sire momentarily, ready to start a new argument with Christian but surprised to see he was half a block behind, staring into the passenger side window of a car parked by the curb. He was about to ask what exactly he thought he was doing when he came to stand beside his brother, immediately realizing what was on Christian's mind.
"Is there a reason why I can't see myself?"
"A pretty good one that you're gonna smack yourself for not figuring out. You don't have a reflection anymore."
"Seriously?"
"No, this is all some elaborate scheme David Copperfield and I made up to drive you insane. Yes, dumbass. Seriously." He pointed to the window. "You don't see me in there either, do you?"
"No, but I see dead people."
Not even bothering to dignify that with a response, Edge tugged on a strand of Christian's hair. "You always complained about having picture days at school. I guess now you don't have to worry about that, huh?"
"I can't even get my picture taken now? But I've got pictures of you!"
Edge shook his head sadly. "Go back and take a look at all the pictures you've taken since I was changed. I promise you that I won't be in them."
Christian put a hand to his head, snickering when that didn't register in the mirror, either. "This is crazy . . . but man, it's fuckin' awesome." He ducked below the window, popped up again, and grinned broadly. "Really fuckin' awesome."
"Come on, Chris, you'll have lots of time to play with that at home. Yeah, it's fun for a while, but it gets old quick, trust me."
"Now you see me, now you don't! Now you see me, now you --"
"Now I'm gonna beat you if you don't hurry your ass up. I'm starving."
"Killjoy."
"Bitch."
"From what I hear, you're on your back more than a coma patient." Edge growled something inaudible and quickened his pace. Christian smirked. "And score another one for me."