Title: All in Your Head
Warning: From this moment on, you agree that you understand and accept that this story contains slash, and may be considered minor. Also, spoilers for the ninth book will be in here too. If you are comfortable with that, read on and enjoy:D
Pairing: Mr. Crepsley/Darren
Summary: (Spoiler for Book 9). In the book, as Mr. Crepsley fell to his death (taking the "Vampaneze Lord" with him), Darren's mind created an alternate scenario that had Mr. Crepsley saved – but as an act of desperation, what if his mind was actually trapped inside his own head, stuck in that imagined world?
Author's Note: In italics is the excerpt from book 9 (the end of chapter 18, and pieces of chapter 19) which are all copyright © 2003 by Darren Shan. The rest that is not italic is my own little spin on what happens if Darren's mind was caught in that imagined scenario, while everyone else was trying to wake him back to the real world.
I've had this little idea in my head ever since I read this book – a few months ago. XD So, I thought (since I have the book again now) why not develop it and actually feed my plot bunnies for once? Well, here it is. Also, after the excerpt, I switch to third person POV. The story also switches back and forth between the dream world and the real world. This should be pretty easy to keep track of.
Disclaimer: I do not own any character's from Darren Shan's Cirque Du Freak series; nor do I own the italicized words – they are actually directly taken from the book: Killers of the Dawn. All of this belongs to Darren Shan – and I am making no profit with this, so don't try and get me in trouble. :D
Then, as the echoes of his final cry reverberated around the walls of the cavern, Mr. Crepsley let go of the chain. He hung in the air and impossible moment, almost as though he could fly...then dropped like a stone towards the steel-tipped stakes beneath.
At the last possible moment, when all seemed lost, someone on a rope swung from the ceiling, streaked through the air, grabbed Mr. Crepsley around the waist, and rose with him to the safety of the platform, where they landed on their feet. As I stared, amazed, mouth hanging open, Mr. Crepsley's rescuer turned – it was Mika Ver Leth, one of my fellow Vampire Princes!
"Now!" Mika roared, and at his cry an army of vampires climbed through the holes in the ceiling and dropped to the floor, landing among the flabbergasted vampaneze and vampets. Before our foes had a chance to defend themselves, our troops were upon them, swords swinging, knives darting, axes chopping.
…Debbie was still sobbing into my chest – she hadn't looked up and realized what was happening! "It's OK," I told her, tilting her head up. "Mr. Creplsley's safe. He's alive. The cavalry arrived."
"Cavalry?" she echoed, gazing around, wiping tears from her eyes. "I don't understand. What…? How…?"
"I don't know!" I chortled, then grabbed Vancha's arm as he came within range. "What's going on?" I roared in his ear. "Where did this lot come from?"
"I fetched them!" he shouted gleefully. "When I left yesterday, I flitted to Vampire Mountain and told them what was going on. They flitted back with me. They had to tread cautiously – I told them not to interfere until we'd killed the Vampaneze Lord – but they've been here all along, waiting."
"But… I don't… it's…"
I stopped before my babbling got the better of me. I couldn't understand how they'd crept up so quietly, or how Vancha had reached Vampire Mountain and gotten back so quickly – even flitting, it should have taken him a few nights – but what did that matter? They were here, and Steve Leopard and the Lord of the Vampaneze were dead. Why question it?
As I spun around like a child on Christmas Day, surrounded by a room full of the most amazing presents, I saw a fabulously familiar figure pushing through the fighting, orange hair flecked with blood, a few new scars to add to the long one which carved up the left side of the face, limping on his sore ankle, but otherwise unbowed.
"Mr. Crepsley!" I roared, throwing myself into his arms.
"Master Shan!" he laughed, hugging me tight to his chest. "Did you think I was finished?"
"Yes!" I sobbed.
"Hah!" he chuckled. "You do not get rid of me that easily! You still have mush to learn about our ways and customs. Who but I would have the patience to teach you?"
"Vain old geezer!" I snuffled.
"Rude young brat!" he retorted, then pushed me back to study my face. Raising a hand, he thumbed tears and dirt away from my cheeks and then… then… then…
He kissed me.
Darren's mind fogged over, as he responded almost eagerly, eyes sliding closed. He could not believe it. Mr. Crepsley… Mr. Crepsley was kissing him – and boy was he kissing him! Tears squeezed out of the young Vampire Prince's eyes as he hugged the other vampire closer, never breaking from their kiss.
Eventually, however, the two had to break away, and even as Darren gulped down the "fresh" air, he cursed the body's need for air. If kisses were air – and here Darren could not help but smirk slightly – well, he was set with Mr. Crepsley.
Darren also noticed how close they still were to each other; he could feel Mr. Crepsley's exhales as they brushed against his lips, and he was sure that if his tongue was to stretch out and lick his lips, it would be able to touch the orange-haired vampire's.
And what do you know? It did.
Most of the Vampaneze and all of the Vampets had left already, in a silent, bloody satisfaction that one of the vampires had died – and another was probably comatose. Gannen Harst and Steve Leopard were still here, watching from the shadows at the raggedy bunch near the pit of stakes. They were last on Vancha's mind, however.
"This is crazy!" Vancha muttered to himself, as Harkat watched silently at Darren, whose body lay limp in his arms. "Why isn't he waking up?"
"He is…still… breathing…" Harkat said quietly, one of his grey hands having found a pulse. "Still…alive…"
Vancha growled deep in his throat. "Then what's wrong with him? Why can't he wake up? And don't tell me he's sleeping because he's exhausted," he shot at Harkat. "I refuse to believe that."
The two sat in silence, the shadows conjured from the pit of flames dancing across their faces and the room. Below, small cracks and pops of the fire sounded, and Vancha found that his cheeks were wet. He swiped at his eyes, quickly. "I… I guess we might as well go," he said quietly. "We'll take Darren back to Vampire Mountain, and see if they can help him."
Harkat nodded slowly, and supporting Darren, the two turned to leave. They had only gone five steps before Gannen and Steve dropped in front of them.
Steve's lips curled into a malicious smirk. "Before you go, I have something to tell you."
Their lips moved away from each other again, seeking fresh air. Darren smiled awkwardly at Mr. Crepsley, before looking around at his surroundings. "Where did everyone go?"
Mr. Crepsley turned to look as well, although the puzzled look on his face was soon replaced by an empty, knowing one. He shook his head ever so slightly, and a fleck of blood actually landed on Darren's cheek. "Most likely outside, waiting. I will bet that Vancha is even cursing us for being so slow." A small smile spread on his face, as he wiped the blood off of Darren's face, planting a small kiss where the blood had just been.
Darren grinned, pulling Mr. Crepsley's face so he could get a better angle to kiss the other. "Mm… Love you," he whispered after their kiss, face burning at the spoken confession.
Mr. Crepsley smiled. "And I, you."
Darren smiled happily, burying his face in the folds of Mr. Crepsley's jacket. "I was so afraid," he mumbled through the fabric. "I thought you would… And…" Tears sprang from his eyes just at the thought.
"Oh, young Master Shan," Mr. Crepsley said, a teasing note in his voice. "Death does not come so easy… And besides, I refuse to die until everything I need to resolve has been." In saying that, he pressed a light kiss to Darren's temple. "Now, should we leave?"
Darren clung onto Mr. Crepsley tighter, wanting to relish the feeling he had yearned for for so long. "Wait. Just a bit longer. Please?" Vaguely, at the back of his mind, Darren could feel the tug of doubt; how did Vancha get to the vampires at their hideout? And why did everything feel like… A dream?
Their journey back was a quiet, sullen one, and even the air around seemed to be polluted with gloom. Vancha berated himself every step of the way – for not killing Steve all those times he had the chance, for listening to Darren and Larten's pleas, and for not stepping up himself, so his dear friend's death would have been avoided.
Larten should have never died, was the main thought that whirled around Vancha's head. His death… All in vain…
---
Vancha and Harkat reached Vampire Mountain a few days later, and Darren had shown no sign of improving. The lack of nourishment had taken a toll on the young vampire, his skin paler than ever, and his eyes sunken, with purple bags under them.
Mika Ver Leth was there to greet them, a troubled look on his face. He nodded slowly, and Vancha and Harkat knew.
Word of Mr. Crepsley's death was a rolling cloud of grief spreading into every nook and cranny of the mountain. Darren's condition only deepened it.
They had used every method they could think of in Darren predicament, and the Vampire Princes had to resort to giving some of their own blood to keep Darren's body functioning.
"The problem, now," Mika said gravely, "is not of his body. His mind itself is refusing to come back… As if caught in some hold. It is rather like – what is it the humans call it? – yes. A coma."
Harkat's hands clenched, but that was plenty enough expression from the Little Person. Vancha slumped into a chair. "No," he mumbled. "This can't happen! We need him right now! The Vampaneze Lord… Steve…"
Mika sighed, one filled with trouble and regret. "Our only hope is that whatever his mind is conjuring, it will soon let him go."
The huge band had returned to Vampire Mountain, everyone flitting there so the festivities could begin even faster. Darren clung to Mr. Crepsley grinning in anticipation. Everyone was in high spirits – after all, they had defeated their enemies, and even more, they had destroyed the one person that could have helped the Vampaneze achieve their goal.
The celebration continued throughout the week, with much drinking, story-telling, dancing, singing… Anything and everything.
On the fourth day, Darren found Mr. Crepsley finally alone, sitting in his room and sipping one of his mentor's broths. "Hey, Mr. Crepsley."
Mr. Crepsley turned, smiling softly. "Ah, Master Shan. Come, sit. I have been wondering where you were."
Darren smiled, plopping down next to him. "Everyone's so happy," he stated, after a brief, awkward pause. "I'm glad."
"With good reason. We have much to celebrate."
"Yeah," Darren said, leaning over to kiss Mr. Crepsley's cheek. "We do."
Mr. Crepsley laughed, hooking an arm around Darren's waist and pulling him closer. He nipped Darren's ear playfully, before turning back to his drink.
Darren curled closer to Mr. Crepsley, the surprising warmth that radiated off of the other, and the faraway music lulling him into a deep sleep.
There, the nightmares found him.
Vancha suddenly jerked awake as Darren screamed, his limbs thrashing the covers, tears falling down his cheeks. "Darren! Darren!" he shook the other, hardly. "Hey, it's just a nightmare. Come on, wake up!"
The other curled into a ball, moving away from Vancha's hold. Straining, Vancha could hear what the vampire was crying about. "Mr. Crepsley… Mr. Crepsley…"
Darren awoke still curled against Mr. Crepsley, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. That nightmare… It was so terrible… Mr. Crepsley… He… He died… Darren tried to stifle a sob, but it broke through, and woke Mr. Crepsley.
The orange-haired vampire immediately wrapped his arms around Darren, smoothing his hair out, and rocking him soothingly.
Darren clung tighter. "Oh… Oh… I… I dreamed you… you… died," he cried, tears falling even faster. "It was back there… with the Vampaneze… Mika… He never came to save you… and you fell… and…" Darren shook uncontrollably, his mouth refusing to utter those words again.
"Hush, young one," Mr. Crepsley soothed. "It was merely a nightmare. Nothing more." He planted a kiss on Darren's lips. "Now, sleep."
---
It was always the same. Every night, Darren would lie in bed, and as soon as he drifted off to sleep, the nightmares returned. Mr. Crepsley had actually taken to sleeping in the same bed with him; every time he dreamed, Darren would wake in an even worse condition with shaking shoulders, chattering teeth, and the same tears.
He was losing control.
Tonight's dream was even worse. Darren found himself standing at the same place where Mr. Crepsley had fallen to his death.
Except, tonight, all his dreams would come to culmination.
Darren watched as Mr. Crepsley wrestled with the Vampaneze Lord, saw the two go over the platform, and gazed, mortified, as Mr. Crepsley bellowed his threats.
Then, he saw Mr. Crepsley plummet to his death.
Darren's scream sounded throughout the halls of Vampire Mountain, reverberating around the rocky rooms and walkways, gaining sound each passing second.
Vancha ran into the room, his eyes wide and ears smarting. The sight that greeted him was none too pretty – but vaguely reliving.
Darren sat up in bed, his fists clenching the bedsheets while his tears rained down. In his anguish his hands had actually scratched his face, and the wet trail mixed with his blood.
"Oh… God…" Vancha immediately came to Darren's side, steadying the other's while Harkat silently pinned Darren's hands to his side. "Darren?"
The Vampire Prince moaned, trying to struggle out of the iron holds of Vancha and Harkat. "No… Mr. Crepsley…" His lost, empty eyes turned to gaze at Vancha. "He… He's not dead… Right?"
Vancha flinched, diverting his gaze to the gray corner of the room he now found very interesting.
"Right?" Darren pressed again, tears forming around his eyes again. "Right? Oh, please…"
Harkat was the one who finally confirmed Darren's fears. "He is…in…a better…place…now…"
Darren's anguished cry echoed around the room.
Mika stood with Darren outside, as they waited for Vancha and Harkat to arrive. "You will be all right?" He asked his fellow Vampire Prince, studying Darren's expressions. They remained as they had been weeks ago, when he had finally awoken – stone.
Darren nodded. "Yes. Right now I must fulfill the job – to destroy the Lord of the Vampaneze." A low growl emitted from his throat. "And I swear as soon as I see Steve Leopard…"
No words were needed. Mika knew exactly what Darren would do – and it made even him slightly queasy.
"Do not let anger cloud your judgment," he warned. "You are a vampire, and we fight with honor. Anything less, and we are no better than the Vampaneze."
Darren nodded solemnly. "I know." Vancha and Harkat, as if sensing their conversation was over, appeared.
Mika watched as the three set off, and he still could not shake off the feeling of anxiety in his heart.
Darren's life, after Mr. Crepsley's death, had changed dramatically.
He could never settle down, could never be at peace, until Steve Leopard had been eradicated from the face of the earth, and Mr. Crepsley avenged.
And if it would cost his life to achieve this, then let it. He would finally be able to join Mr. Crepsley – the one he truly loved.
The End
A/N: Oh, my. It's not a happy ending. XD What did you think of my first Darren Shan saga fanfic? ; I think it fits sort of what Darren is going through. Sort of. XD
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed (and are not too confused/freaked out XD)! Reviews are appreciated. :D