Heart's Price
by Severitus
--Part 9--
It was dark outside when Frank awoke for the third time, though somehow he could tell that another day had passed. The windows to the bedroom had been thrown open, allowing the cool night breeze to clear the stuffiness from the room. Frank kept his eyes closed for a moment, momentarily stunned by everything he could sense without even opening his eyes. He knew that someone had bathed him while he slept…he could smell the faint traces of shampoo from his own hair, and soap on his skin. A scent in the air that made his mind scream Julian lingered, telling him that the Ventrue had been in the room very recently. He could also tell that he was not alone. There was a wild scent in the air, swirling with the scent of gardenias and roses that rode on the night air. Somehow, it was a familiar scent, something that screamed familiarity on more than one level.
It was only when Frank had decided to open his eyes and find out who his visitor was, that something wholly disturbing dawned on him. He wasn't breathing. Not once since he had awoken had his chest expanded or contracted, nor had his lungs screamed for air. Sitting bolt upright, Frank unconsciously sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut again as he listened for his own heartbeat. Instead, he heard only silence.
"Relax, Frank," a familiar voice said, and Frank blinked, staring in surprise at the young man leaning against an open window frame.
"Cash?" Frank muttered in surprise, raising himself slowly, gingerly up on the pillows. He hadn't seen the Gangrel Primogen since the conclave meeting about the rogue Kindred.
"How are you feeling?" Cash asked, walking over to sit in chair that had been left by the bed. Frank paused to shift the sheet up over his hips, somewhat self-conscious about his state of undress.
"Better," he said, and it was true. Though his neck still throbbed painfully, and his body ached all over, the pain had all but disappeared. Aside from his neck, the only major complaint he had was the bizarre, twisting ache in his stomach. In a way, it reminded him of the severe hunger that struck when he obsessed over a case…often going days without eating a real meal. Frank jerked at the realization. It was hunger…just not the kind he was used to…not the kind that he even wanted to ponder satisfying.
"Good to hear. It's all downhill from here on out, buddy," Cash said, smiling in that familiar way that had always intrigued Frank. He knew nothing of the Gangrel's history, but that smile, tinged with sadness, had always made him wonder. Though Frank had no idea how old Cash was, his young appearance gave the impression of youthful innocence…but that smile alone destroyed the image.
"I don't know about that," Frank finally replied, giving a half-smile that no doubt spoke of his own inner demons. Cash's slight nod confirmed that the Gangrel understood perfectly.
"Julian wanted to be here when you woke again, but he had to leave for a bit to help with damage control. He was going to pick up some of your things too. Considering everything, it probably wouldn't be wise to head back to your place for a while," Cash said carefully, gauging Frank's reaction.
But Frank only shrugged. His house was only a place he went to sleep. It hadn't been a home for a long time. Truth be told, he didn't want to be alone there anytime soon anyway.
Frank stared down at his lap, where his hands were worrying at the burgundy sheets. The more time went by, the more aware he was of how…wrong his body felt. He couldn't even really explain it…just that everything felt different, wrong…alien. His limbs no longer felt like his own; even listening to himself speak he felt like he was standing on the outside, observing himself. There was no longer any warmth in his body. His skin felt the same temperature as the sheets and the air. Sound, smell, taste, feel…everything was amplified, more acute. And there was a humming recognition in the back of his head whenever he looked at Cash or caught his scent. It was only when he inhaled Julian's lingering scent again that he recognized the difference between the two, equally familiar scents. Cash was Gangrel…and so now was Frank. Though Julian's scent screamed love and passion, protectiveness and strength…Cash's screamed of family. Kin.
"What…" Frank paused to clear a sudden lump in his throat, "What…ah…happens now?"
"Once you have healed enough, Julian and I will help you learn how to survive as Kindred. I imagine Sonny will want to help as well. He's been asking after you constantly, by the way. I'll also teach you what it means to be Gangrel," Cash said, then stopped himself before he could elaborate. There would be time enough for teaching later…now was a time for healing.
Touching his neck gingerly, Frank winced, recognizing the scent of his own blood faintly in the air. Though his neck was no longer completely immobile, it still sent shivers of pain and a disturbing weakness down his arm when he tried to turn his head more than an inch or so to the left. Still fingering the gauze, Frank turned his eyes to Cash, who was watching him expectantly.
"I was wondering…why haven't I healed yet? I thought Kindred healed quickly," Frank asked. After all, he had seen Julian heal bullet wounds…surely his own injuries were no worse than that?
"Your circumstances are unusual, Frank. For one, you very nearly died before the Change could take you. Blood loss severely limits our healing. And then…Frank, that was one hell of a wound. To be honest, it would have killed many a Kindred. It was only Daedalus' alchemy that gave you enough strength to make it. He kept you strong enough for the Gangrel blood to change you, and for Julian to feed you to speed your healing. Aside from your neck, though, you look a hell of a lot better than when Cameron found you," Cash said, motioning for Frank to take stock of himself.
"I don't know how much you remember, but you were all slashed up and bruised from that bitch, too," Cash said, his eyes darkening with anger. Frank turned his eyes back to his self-inspection, gaping when he realized Cash was right. Only a few faint white scars littered his torso, and not a single bruise remained.
"At least that part's pretty cool, huh?" Cash teased, reminding Frank briefly of the giddy man he'd found at the Haven only a week ago, drunk, and mooning over his beloved Sasha. Thankfully, the club had been free of any Brujah that night.
"Yeah," Frank said, fingering a long, white scar below his ribs, "I guess that part is pretty cool." He couldn't help but linger, though, on all the other things that weren't.
He was saved from pondering them by the sound of the door opening, and two very familiar figures striding in. The first was Julian, a small knapsack held in one hand. Behind him came Sonny, and he was grinning like an absolute fool.
"Good, you're awake! I was hoping you would be," Julian said, leaning down for a quick, promising kiss before settling on the bed beside him. Sonny pulled another chair up beside the bed, and sat beside Cash, still watching him with that silly grin.
"Hey, Sonny. Hope they haven't been given you too much hell at the station since I've been gone," Frank said.
"No, things are always quiet when you're gone," Sonny teased. "It's good to see you, Frank. You have no idea how worried we all were. But as stubborn as you are, I should have known you'd pull through," he said, his grin turned briefly somber.
"Yeah, well…I've got unfinished business," Frank muttered, his eyes flicking to Julian briefly. The man smiled in reply, and his eyes held promises that the man no doubt would have made good on if they had been alone.
"Look…Frank…I'm sorry about what happened to you. We all assumed that eventually Julian or Lillie would have Embraced you…never that something like this would happen. I'd…hoped that it would have been your choice. Not…" Sonny trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.
"Don't worry about it," Frank said, waving off his concern. "I'm not saying I'm happy about what happened…hell no…but you've got nothing to apologize for. What's done is done, and I've got no choice but to deal with it," Frank said, then added with a feral grin, "'course, seeing that bitch who bit be burn would help."
"No worries about that," Sonny laughed. "Everybody is combing the city for Katerina…even the Brujah, believe it or not. Although, I think they're more concerned about the prestige of finding the rogue than they are out of good feelings for you."
"No surprise there," Frank said, and then winced, wrapping an arm about his waist as the unfamiliar ache in his gut worsened briefly. Sonny turned to Julian briefly in concern, but the Prince shook his head subtly. Now was not the time to talk about the hunger. That was a conversation that called for patience and privacy.
"Well, I'm due on duty soon. I just stopped by to see how you were doing. You keep out of trouble, okay?" the Ventrue chided, and Frank grinned, shooing him away with one hand.
"I'm a big boy, Sonny. Now go catch the bad guys. Somebody's got to keep them under control while I'm out," Frank said with a cocky grin.
"Take care, Frank," Sonny said, before slipping out the door. At a pointed look from Julian, Cash followed suit, but not before waggling an eyebrow at the two suggestively.
"Well, at least we're keeping them entertained," Julian commented dryly. Frank smiled and grabbed the other man's hand deliberately. His smile was cut off as he winced, curling over his stomach again.
"Damn…that's getting annoying," he said. Julian let out a long sigh and squeezed his hand briefly.
"That's your body telling you it needs blood, Frank. Normally it would not be so uncomfortable, but because of your injuries it is harder on you," Julian said gently, unsure of how Frank would react. But Frank's expression only darkened, his brows knitting and his mouth turning down stubbornly.
"And what happens if I don't drink any?" Frank growled, arms crossed over his chest. By the tensing of his muscles, Julian could tell that the hunger gnawed at him. Most of the time the hunger wasn't too different from that experienced by a human…only it was more of an emptiness inside and less of a growling want. But when a Kindred was injured or starved…it turned into an aching, powerful want that, eventually, drove to Kindred to find blood however it could, or killed them.
"If you do not drink blood, your Beast shall make you seek it, or you will die," Julian said plainly. Frank's expression softened, but not by much.
"I figured as much," Frank mumbled.
"Here, let me slide behind you," Julian said, then, kicking off his shoes and tossing his coat aside, crawled behind Frank on the bed. He pulled the smaller man back against his chest, pausing for a moment to relish in his scent…different now, wilder, but still the same Frank Kahonek.
With on quick slash, Julian opened the vein on his left wrist, holding the appendage up to Frank in offering. Frank jerked back against him, his nostrils flaring widely and his eyes wide. Julian was patient. He held his arm steady, waiting.
Frank was instantly fixated on the blood. His pupils dilated, his nerves quivering as the blood-scent flooded his nose. Two voices were screaming in his head…one was demanding that he take what was so freely offered. The other cringed back like a kicked dog…unwilling to sacrifice what humanity he had left.
The first voice won.
Frank's mouth darted forward, and he didn't even notice as his eyes flared silvery-green, and teeth, suddenly sharp, deepened the gash on Julian's arm. The instant the blood touched his tongue, he was beyond caring about the sensations or images that flooded across their connection. Something inside him, like a great jungle cat lying in wait, surged to the front of his brain; and it only cared about the blood.
Julian brushed the hair back from Frank's eyes, watching detachedly as Frank suckled at his wrist. His eyes burned for a moment, threatening tears, when he saw the unnatural color of the man's eyes. He'd never wanted Frank to have to deal with the Beast. It pained him to see the man he loved overtaken…that sharp, stubborn mind drowned by primal need.
Forcing himself to look away, Julian tried to think of the few positives of the situation. Frank would no longer be in danger from those who disagreed with Julian's oath to protect him…at least as far as the Masquerade was concerned. Also, Julian wouldn't have to worry about Frank's fragile human body catching an unlucky bullet one day. And…Julian smiled slightly at another thought. He'd thought to make Frank a Ventrue one day, but now he realized that Frank wouldn't have fit in well with his clan. Frank was much too stubborn, passionate, hot-heated, and independent for the Ventrue…but, Julian realized, he was tailor made for the Gangrel. In fact, Julian doubted he'd have to worry about Frank's personality changing much at all. That thought, at least, brought peace of mind.
And both of them could use as much of that as they could get.