By some strange miracle, the castle had decided not to fuck with Robin, for once. It really must be his lucky day.

Other than the whole, 'my best friend is trying to off himself', thing, Robin thought darkly.

He was currently crouch-walking awkwardly through one of Stokely Castle's dozen or so stone passages. This was the hallway that ran parallel to the crypt. It had been the first secret passage he could remember on short notice. He cursed as he bumped his head for the third time. He seemed to remember the passage being bigger when they were younger.

Robin took in his surroundings as he came upon a short archway, swinging his torch both ways to get a better look at the passage ahead. He hoped he was still skinny enough to squeeze through the next bit, which looked intimidatingly narrow.

At least the ceilings were finally high enough to stand.

He grabbed a bit of soil off the floor and made a mark on the wall above his head. Should he go left next, or right?

"Now, where would I hide, if I were Vlad?" he asked aloud. He jumped as a scuttling noise came from somewhere behind him. That'd be the roaches. He supposed if he was eaten alive down here it would be poetic justice for all the times he'd nearly given his mum a heart attack with the little buggers.

In the end, he chose left, wishing he could project his thoughts directly into Vlad's thick head.

I've got the answer, Vlad, he thought as loudly as he could. A little blood lust is nothing to worry about—whenever you're feeling peckish, you can just sip from my veins and then be on your way!

It sounded crazy even in his own head. There was no way Vlad would agree to something like that.

He thought of the look on Vlad's face the day before, twisted with pleasure at the taste of Renfield's "soya" concoction. That had been his blood, making Vlad react like that. Robin could only imagine how much better it would taste, straight from the source.

He ignored the fluttering in his stomach, cursing his treacherous brain. Focus, Branaugh. You've got to find Vlad.

He hoped Chloe had come up with a better alternative by now. Either way, he had to think up something good to say to his friend, and quick. Even if he found him, the hard part was going to be convincing him that he had to come out of the closet. Er, coffin.

Robin coughed, glad that no one was around to see him making a complete idiot of himself. It was just Chloe's usual antics, getting to him. Robin didn't like Vlad, at least not in that way.

And Vlad certainly didn't see him as anything other than a friend.


Vlad slowly pulled back the thick duvet, then crawled up the bed until he was poised on all fours over Robin's sleeping frame. Robin's head had lolled to one side, exposing a tantalizing stretch of neck to the air.

Vlad's stomach clenched at the sight, and he bit his lip, glancing apprehensively at Robin's face. But he needn't have worried.

Robin slept like a rock.

After a minute of watching Robin's chest slowly rise and fall, Vlad stuck his nose in Robin's hair, breathing in the heady scent of his prey.

Emboldened, he kissed Robin's neck, closing his eyes at the feel of Robin's pulse hammering against his lips. His fangs descended, unbidden, and he curled his fingers around the edge of Robin's collar, pulling it to the side for better access to the young man's throat.

Vlad hesitated. Could he really do it? He knew that he wanted to, more than anything.

But he didn't want Robin to wake up.

"What do you think you're doing?" a shrill voice demanded. Vlad flinched, turning to face whoever had dared to interrupt him.

It was Simon. He was licking his paw, eyes large, glowing disks in the dark. Vlad couldn't help but feel ashamed as the creature leered at him.

"This isn't like you," Simon said, matter-of-factly. "Robin wouldn't appreciate being turned while he was still unconscious, you know." The cat grinned toothily, his whiskers vibrating with amusement. "You should wake him up and do it."

Vlad gasped, sitting up. "I couldn't do that! Robin is my friend. I'd... I'd never hurt him."

The cat flicked its tail, expression pointed. "What do you call that, then?"

Vlad looked down at Robin's neck, which was now marred by a vicious, jagged cut, from which blood had begun to flow steadily, collecting in a pool of deep crimson on the sheets.

"That wasn't me, I swear! I would never!" He pleaded with his furry companion. "Can't you save him?"

Simon purred. "No, but you can. Handcuff yourself to a tree and wait for dawn."

Vlad kneeled before the kitten, misery twisting his features. "But Robin needs me. I can't kill myself."

The cat jumped up onto the bed, lapping at the pool of blood. "Robin won't be needing anything from you, ever again. He's a vampire now."

"What…?"

As Vlad spoke, Robin sat up in the bed, his eyes glowing red in the dark. "Isn't it great, Vlad? I'm one of you now." He grinned, showing off a full set of deadly looking fangs.


"NO!" Vlad shouted, shaking. He looked around himself wildly, panicking until he remembered where he was: safely locked in his coffin, in the pit of the castle. He checked—yep, his cuffs were still intact.

He tried to relax. He'd been having the same nightmare on and off for hours.

Robin is safe, Vlad firmly reminded himself. That's all that matters now. He lay back, willing himself to stay awake, and did his best to ignore the horrible twisting in his stomach.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a rustling noise, coming from somewhere off in the distance. No, no, he groaned, covering his face.

He would recognize the sound of that clumsy gait anywhere.


Robin paused mid step—he thought he'd heard shouting somewhere off to his right, but he couldn't be sure. "Vlad? Is that you?" he called out, ears perked.

Where was that blasted coffin?

He marked the wall as he turned the corner, waving his torch ahead of him, and whooped as he spotted it: there, nestled against the far wall, was Vlad's coffin.

Vlad called out to him as he approached. The vampire's voice was thick with despair. "I told you not to come find me."

Right. Vlad had super hearing, now. He'd probably heard him coming from a mile off.

Robin winced, balancing his torch against the wall. "I'm sorry, Vlad, but I'm not about to let you die down here."

Vlad's answer was muffled.

"What? Sorry, didn't catch that." Robin crept closer.

He scanned the length of the coffin, wondering how he was supposed to open something that looked like more like a submarine than a box.

He pried at the lock, expecting to struggle with the effort, surprised when the latch broke off completely in his hand. "What a piece of junk." He lifted the lid, grimacing as his friend's hissing face came into view. "Hi, Vlad. I promise I'll find a way get that fixed."

"You're here, which means you must have read my letter," Vlad seethed through clenched teeth. "Why did you go against my wishes?"

Robin sneered at him. "Your wishes automatically stopped counting the moment they included suicide." He bent over the coffin edge, swiping at Vlad's handcuffs, but Vlad pulled them just out of Robin's reach, flashing his fangs in warning.

"I can't, okay," Vlad insisted, eyes wide. "I won't…." His voice broke, and he stared pleadingly up at his friend. "I won't survive anyway if I hurt you. Why can't you understand that?"

Robin knelt by the coffin, bracing his weight on either side and leaning over his friend's trembling body. Vlad bit his lip viciously, and turned his head. Robin realized his proximity was probably contributing to Vlad's distress, but that was neither here nor there.

"I'm not leaving without you." He glared down at his friend.

Vlad's eyes were an amazing shade of grey-green. Robin swallowed. "Chloe and I found a way around your, um, addiction to my blood." He cleared his throat. "It's my necklace; it does more than just protect humans from vampires." Robin paused, surprised Vlad wasn't arguing with him. "Are you listening?"

Vlad was giving him a very weird look, and his eyes had gone an odd shade of yellow.

"Robin. You are going to leave this place and forget that you ever found me here. If anyone asks, you are to tell them that you saw me burn up in the sunlight this morning in my bedroom."

The amulet must have been rendering Vlad's hypnosis powers inert, somehow. Robin glared back, unfazed.

"You'll have to try harder than that."


Vlad looked stricken. Robin took advantage of his compatriot's momentary silence, lifting the key around his neck and fitting it neatly into Vlad's cuffs. They opened with a satisfying click, and Robin braced himself for the worst, ready to grab the garlic spray if he had to. But Vlad was still just lying there, staring up at him with a stupefied look on his face.

"What?" Robin demanded. "No more hare-brained, idiotic excuses? Good. Because you're coming with me." He grabbed Vlad by the wrist, tugging him upward. To Robin's immense surprise, the other boy stood without a fuss.

It must have been his pep talk, Robin thought to himself with satisfaction. He pulled at Vlad's arm, striding toward the exit, pleased when Vlad followed without a fight.

"Wait," Vlad called out after a moment, not meeting Robin's eyes. "The coffin."

Oh, right. "Well—grab it, then. But we're still going."

Vlad nodded, and fetched the coffin without another word.

As Robin led the way back, following the path he'd marked out on the walls, he took a moment to appreciate the incredible timing of it all. That had been almost too easy.

But he knew the hardest part of the night was ahead of them yet. He still had to somehow convince Vlad that it was a good idea to use him as his own personal blood-bag. At least, until Chloe thought of a better plan.

A small part of him was almost hopeful that she wouldn't.

He spared a glance at his companion. Vlad was staring glumly at the floor, looking dazed and lost. Robin paled as a terrible thought occurred to him. Exactly how long could a new vampire go without proper nourishment?

The poor sod must be starving.

Robin quickened his pace. Not if I have anything to say about it, he thought.