1946
Garrett had returned home from Germany a few months ago, at least, 'home' being the good ol' U.S. of A. In his century and a half of wandering the country, bouncing in and out of the army when the causes seemed to fit his favor, he still couldn't find a smaller place to call home. It hadn't bothered him too much, though, it was more than easy to find places to rest easy with his charisma. Despite his cold-blooded nature, he had a way of charming people.
When he'd returned from overseas, he was first dropped off in New York City. The unmarried boys of his company all made a pact to get each other back on their feet and get settled back into civilian life, hoping to find a nice girl and settle down.
Well, everyone but Garrett, anyway. He was just getting by through the skin of his teeth- fangs, more specifically. He was able to keep that secret, thankfully.
One by one, he watched his brothers in arms find happiness, and he was truly happy for them. In return, the others tried to hook him up with eager young ladies, who usually were quick to fall head over heels for his dazzling smile. Garrett was a great actor, keeping up a façade so the others wouldn't worry about him, but he could never feel as strongly for girlfriend after girlfriend.
Besides, it was difficult to be so intimate for so long with humans.
Eventually, he decided it would just be better to pretend he'd found the one. He was the last of them to settle down, anyway, so he promised the others that he was truly happy with a gentle spirit. Some sweet redhead whose daddy was a casualty of war and was just looking for someone to hold her at night.
Of course, Garrett eventually packed all his things up without a word and wrote a letter that he'd ran away to get eloped. He didn't take the poor girl with her as he hitchhiked out of the Big Apple. Maybe the boys would understand, maybe they wouldn't. Garrett knew they all meant well, but one thing he couldn't handle was pressure.
It took one night of hopping on the bed of one pickup truck to another, going highway to highway. One of the greatest things about not having a permanent home was having moments like this; just being able to cast away all thoughts and get lost in the stars. He promised himself that he'd get better at naming the constellations, but he still hadn't got around to that. What a shame.
After the eighth hour, the stars all started to hide away under dense clouds. They didn't seem natural, considering the sun was so masked under an ugly, dismal grey. The only upside he could see was that he wouldn't have any problem hiding his skin in this...he couldn't even call it weather.
"Welcome to Pittsburgh," the current driver called out to him as the truck parked into a gas station.
Garrett couldn't tell if this city was perfect or absolutely terrible. It was difficult to understand how humans could bear to live here; the air tasted of waste and oil, but it could have been the ideal hiding place for vampires. As he hopped out of the truck, he gave the driver the remainder of his money and wandered off into the industrial jungle. From the sounds of it, there was a river nearby, which struck his curiosity.
With all that he owned slung over his back in a canvas bag, he wandered away from the thrum of heartbeats and inflating lungs until the sound of rapids drowned them came upon an empty lot blanketed in loose gravel with only a thin line of bushes wedged between it and the actual water, save for one small mouth. Garrett guessed that this was just some sort of popular spot to let boats out.
He was about to turn and keep wandering when he noticed something strange. The longer he stood around, the more dread started to wash over his body. He wasn't one to scare easy, although he did like to think he knew when danger was present. This feeling wasn't danger, though. This unshakeable feeling was akin to deep remorse. Pain. Not only were his nerves heavy like lead, but even his sight started to change. Pittsburgh was pretty grey as it were already, but now it looked more like a war propaganda film. Gritty, monochrome, and just dismal.
He could also realize that the feeling wasn't his own. How could he feel like this so suddenly without reason? He was just fine a second ago, but he'd felt changes in the air before. Perhaps not this invisible, but it was almost like an emotional gas bomb. It was so out of place, so strange, and that's what pushed him to walk further to the edge of the water. Every step grew heavier so much that he dropped his bag on the rocks. It was then that he found what had to be the source. A body, propped up against the roots of a fallen tree.
Another vampire.
Garrett assumed that he had to be alive; their kind couldn't die completely unless their bodies were torn apart. "Hey..." he awkwardly muttered.
There was no response.
Cautiously, Garrett knelt down beside him and pressed two fingers beneath his golden curls, and his assumptions were right. Upon touching him, though, the emotion struck him like a diesel train. At least he could tell, in those very few moments he was able to make skin contact, that he was right in assuming the stranger was alive.
Still, his body shuddered and his eyes started to ache with the desire to shed tears. Shifting around to see his face fully, his own ruby eyes widened. This face, it was familiar in a way Garrett couldn't place. The scars upon his jaw and neck didn't ring any bells, surprisingly, but the rough cut of the jawline did. The pointed nose, the high brow...and then he realized the eyes. Black as shadows. "Damn, you're starving..."
There was time to ponder familiarity later. Though his body felt heavy with this invasive sorrow, he bit into his own wrist and pressed it firmly to the stranger's mouth. "Come on, man, just relax." His other hand cradled the back of his head, fingers burying deep into thin locks. He tilted his head back slowly, cautiously, to let the blood run down easier.
At first, the stranger fought him. It only lasted a few seconds, however, as he seemed to wake from his stupor. He nearly jerked his head away, but emotions clashed against each other, and when gazes locked, the stranger calmed and gripped the wrist.
"There." Garrett smiled sadly, though the sorrow was rapidly decreasing, it was still present. But as it dissipated, it left more room for questions that he knew were probably best kept to himself until the poor guy could actually catch a breath.
When he finally pulled his mouth away, his head thumped against the trunk, and he gasped for air. Blinking, the color of his irises started to brighten from void black to a strange maroon. It was better than black, at least. He lowered Garrett's hand, and stared at him in confusion. "Why did you do that?" he croaked, "You don't know me."
"What, you think all nomads are killers?" Garrett raised a thick, curious brow. He pressed his other hand over the bite wound until it closed. "I'm not into the whole senseless murder thing. Besides, whatever you can do didn't seem particularly healthy if any humans were to cross paths with you."
The stranger's breath grew shaky, and he clutched at his own sides. "I know...I- I tried to be out of the way-"
"Whoa, I didn't mean it- sorry." Garrett shifted a few inches back, feeling his own chest tremble. "...I'm Garrett."
The other took another moment to calm himself, lowering his head. "Much obliged, Garrett...you didn't have to help me, but you did. I appreciate it."
Garrett bit his tongue in hesitation, and settled back on his heels. "Are you stayin' anywhere? I could help you get back home, it doesn't seem to be that ideal to slum it out here."
He smiled nervously, and looked out to the river. "That's too kind."
Garrett exhaled deeply and got on his feet, offering him a hand. "C'mon, get up. I'm sure you'll feel better." His dog tags softly clinked together as he moved.
Timidness melted from his expression as his eyes settled on the necklace. "You're a soldier," he noted. "I guess you just got back?"
Garrett nodded, and the itch of familiarity crawled through the back of his mind again. "Have I seen you before?"
He finally took the hand and pulled himself to stand. His joints cracked like old wood. "I dunno. Haven't been a soldier for a while." By the looks of how he couldn't make eye contact again, he clearly didn't want to talk about it. Or maybe it was just the fact that he didn't want to crane his neck up in order to look at the tall bastard's face. Still, he gave a quiet sigh. "I'm Jasper."
"Jasper..."
Jasper, Jasper...
Nothing. The lack of answers didn't get Garrett down, though, and he grabbed his canvas bag from the ground. "Alright, Jasper, why don't you show me your place, then?"
Jasper scoffed. "I dunno...I'm not sure if I can go back there."
Before he could send out any waves, Garrett tried to think quickly. "Okay, then, we'll go somewhere else. I'm really good at findin' hideout spots." He flashed a confident grin and pat Jasper on the shoulder. "You feel okay enough to walk?"
The air around them lightened, and Jasper smiled a little more. "Yeah. L-lead the way."
The road they took led them further away from the city, and it didn't seem to be a frequently-driven road. All that awaited for them were mills and ports, though it didn't sound like much activity was going on in these properties.
"...How many wars have y'been in?" Jasper shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
"This is my tenth," Garrett answered. "I got turned during the revolutionary. I sorta had a weird itch to fight the British for a few decades afterward."
"...And yet you're against senseless murder?" Jasper kicked a pebble.
Garrett bit back a smirk. "Alright, wise guy. I really don't like killing, you can believe that or not. But I do my best to take part in fighting for a better cause. For what this country's supposed to stand for. Hence why I shipped out to kick Nazi ass."
Jasper chuckled. His posture straightened. "Spoken like a true freedom fighter."
"Thanks." Garrett perked up, unable to stop watching every shift in Jasper's expression.
"So the government didn't...did they know about what you are?" Jasper asked, only glancing at him briefly.
"They got guys on the inside. Took 'em until after the first world war to realize our existence, and they keep it on the down-low." Garrett's eyes finally turned away when the road forked off. "Left or right?"
Jasper turned left, away from the river. The path started to incline.
a few things i'd like to note:
1. mrs. meyer never seemed to write anything about vampires drinking other vampire blood (i scoured google trust me) so that legally allows me to do what i want with this fact
2. even if she did, this is fanfic, babey! anything goes! im gonna make everyone gay and nobody can stop me!
3. sorry if there are any historical inaccuracies in the future. feel free to correct me :)