A/N: This addition was written by the wonderful Tawni because she writes an awesome Deacon in an rpg with me with my Scud. So enjoy this special little one time flip to Deacon's POV.
Deacon was a little irritated that Scud thought so poorly of himself. A sex toy? A blood bag? Really? All of the thoughts alone disgusted him. At least he took care of his pets, until they pissed him off. But sleeping with them? That was out of the question. That was just pet abuse. Thankfully, the heavy panels that covered his windows were enough to keep the daylight out as he stalked through his house, trying to clear his thoughts and rage.
"Fucking ridiculous." He muttered to himself as he ran a hand through his hair, letting it fall back into place over his face. Deacon traveled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself and turning on the water.
It was something about the sound of the water that always kept him calm. For as long as he could remember, it was the only thing he really felt any connection to- It was the only thing that brought him back home. That, and the rubber ducks. Some may call it childish, others may say it was just clinging onto the human memories. But to Deacon, it was just calming.
Once the dark blue tub was full of warm water, Deacon stripped off his clothes, and eased himself into the water. Dropping a single rubber duck in with him, Deacon watched it as he bobbed to and fro each time Deacon shifted. Each shift and sway pushed Deacon deeper into a calming thought as he found himself soon resting, or meditating.
He easily lost himself to his thoughts, blocking out everything else except for the soft lapping of the water, and the bobbing of the small yellow duck.
Instead of worrying about his current situation, though, Deacon found himself back in his own childhood. Back when he was human. Back when he could feel more than just the sickness of needing to drink to stay alive. When he was younger, he used to love taking baths. He'd beg his mother to fill the bath for him, just so he could play in the water with his ducks. He'd spend as long as he could, until the water was too cold to stay in any longer, or his mother would nearly drag him out.
But one specific memory came to mind. The night his father had had enough of his childish games. It wasn't his mother who'd come into the bathroom a good two hours after his bath had started. No, it was the man that assisted in his creation, and he wasn't having any of this. He pushed the door open with force, and Deacon couldn't help but stare up at him, mid-game with his duck, with wide blue eyes.
His father grabbed him by the arm, dragging him out of the tub, pulling the plug, and leaving the small duck behind. He screamed something about Deacon being old enough to know better, and that he was being a sissy, a coward. He'd never become the kind of man that he wanted to raise-
Suddenly, Deacon snapped out of his meditation, and stared in the direction of the door. Something had shifted, he'd heard it. If Scud was out moving around, there would be hell to pay. He'd given him a direct order. And if it wasn't Scud, someone was about to get their ass kicked for disturbing his meditation.