Bad News
by Soledad
A "Pathways in the Dark" story
Part 13 of "The Toreador Chronicles". Follows "Taming the Vagabond".
For disclaimer and background information see the Introduction.
Rating: Adults only, please! There's foul language and some rough sex, not the descriptive sort, but still not for the faint of heart.
Author's note: Alonzo Solace is an original character of mine. He's been modelled after the similarly-named character in Earth 2, and is, of course, "played" by a young Antonio Sabato Jr.
This is a seriously toned-down version of the actual chapter. Adult readers can find the unedited version as a friends-locked entry of the hiddenrealms LJ community.
Summary: Brian is just starting to settle into his new life as a Toreador fledgling when a distress call from Pittsburgh disturbs the process. Ben's AIDS has broken out, and Michael is falling apart. Brian is ready to go, but how could Alain let a newly-embraced fledgling out of his eyes?
The phone was ringing insistently, petulantly. Brian, torn out from a very pleasant dream, groaned and stirred in his Sire's arms, muttering half-conscious curses under his now nonexistent breath. Alain tightened his embrace around him and licked his neck, on the same spot where he'd bitten him earlier.
"Let it ring. The answering machine will pick it up in a moment."
"It can be important," Brian protested lamely but made no serious attempt to get away. Their lovemaking had been long and rather vigorous in this morning.
"So is this," Alain ground his hips against the curve of Brian's ass. Brian hissed in mixed pain/pleasure, he was sore and worn out, but some things were just too hot to resist. Besides, vampire healing had its advantages.
In that very moment, however, the answering machine picked up the call, ruining the mood completely.
"Brian?" Debbie's shrill voice all but screamed. "Brian, answer the damn phone, or so God help me, I'll take the next plane to rip your dick off and shove it so far up your sorry ass it will come out your mouth. Answer me, dammit, I know you are there!"
In a second, Brian was wide awake – and no more interested in amorous actions.
"Sire, I really must answer this one," he said pleadingly. "Deb wouldn't make such a fuss if it weren't important."
Alain nodded and backed away. He knew who Debbie was and what she – and her son Michael – meant to Brian. Sex could wait. They had eternity. But Brian's mortal friends didn't, and judged by Debbie's near-hysteric manners, something must have been very wrong in Pittsburgh.
Brian rolled over and picked up the phone. "I'm here, Deb, no need to be rude. What happened?"
"Brian, oh, thank God," all hostility vanished from Debbie's voice; it was low and nearly broken now. "It's Ben… the AIDS has broken out by him, full-blown. It's so horrible, Brian, it… it's happening so fast…"
"Fuck," Brian hissed. He didn't care for the Nutty Professor, in fact he'd be glad to see Ben gone, but… "How's Mikey taking it?"
"How do you suppose he's taking it?" Debbie scowled. "Ben is his fucking husband, remember? He's falling apart, that's how he's taking it. You must come home, now!"
"Deb, I can't, not now…" he was a fledgling, brand new to the Dark, not even presented to the Prince yet. He'd be free prey for every stray vampire. Fuck, he couldn't even Hunt on his own yet.
"Brian," Debbie's voice began to rise again, "Michael has always been here for you, no matter what sort of shit you've gotten into. Don't you dare to walk away from him now, when he needs you most!"
"It's not that simple, Deb…" He yearned to rush home, to comfort Mikey, to stand by him, but he wasn't his own master yet. Not freed yet.
"Then make it simple," Debbie demanded harshly, too many recent tears audible in her voice. "You've promised, Brian! You've fucking promised you'll be there for him…"
His Childe's anguish coming over through their bond clearly, Alain took pity on him. He snatched the phone from Brian's unresisting hand. "Mrs Novotny? I'm Brian's… partner. Things are indeed not that simple here at the moment, but I'll see what I can do to get him home as soon as possible."
Debbie was so surprised she could barely thank him before hanging up. Brian looked at Alain in wonder. "You'll let me…?"
Alain kissed him. "I know what he means to you. What you two have is a rare gift; I wouldn't take that from you. We'll finish what we've begun, and then I'll make a few phone calls to get you there safely. Now, turn around!"
Brian obeyed, knowing that his Sire would never let a good fuck unfinished, which was okay with him, as long as he got to go to Mikey, soon. Alain rode him hard and fast, as if wanting to make clear that his ass was owned and by whom.
"You're beautiful, my Childe," the older vampire murmured, "and you are all mine. I might allow you to go to your childhood love, but never do you dare to forget whom you belong."
His fangs dropped, sinking into Brian's neck with surgical precision. Their link opened wide through the shared blood, his love and passion flooded the fledgling's mind like a red-hot wave of fire. Brian cried out from the almost intolerable pleasure of the Kindred Kiss, spilling himself over his maker's hands.
Finishing the act with a shudder that went through his entire body and licking the bite mark clean to seal it, Alain sent his favourite Childe to take a long, hot shower, and then picked up the phone and dialled a number he'd known for years but never used so far.
"Casa de Garcia," a female voice said. Alain recognized its owner as one of the Garcia household with whom he'd some dealings recently.
"Allison? Alain DeLaigle here. Can I speak with Salvador, please? I need to ask him a favour… a really big one."
Fifteen minutes later Brian emerged from the bathroom, still walking funny, despite accelerated vampire healing. His maker ordered him to lie down on his belly once more, and lovingly applied the herbal salve to his tender parts.
"I'm sorry," Alain murmured, kissing the dimples on the small of Brian's back. "I got caught up in the heat of the moment. You're too damn delicious… but not yet strong enough for such rough treatment."
"It doesn't matter," Brian murmured, flexing his muscles under Alain's mouth that was already wandering down the curve of his ass. "I'll heal. I've suffered worse as a mortal. But Sire, I really need to go, soon…"
"Don't worry. I've organized a flight for you. You'll take off in two hours."
"In two hours?" Brian panicked. That would mean high noon, and he was still a fledgling, more vulnerable to sunlight than an average vampire. "I'll be toast before I reach the airport. And what about the plane itself? Where can I hide from the sun in a plane?"
"Calm down. Give me some credit, would you? I got you a vampire-safe plane, with tinted windows. Did you think I'd risk your safety?"
"Where did you get that from? The only such plane I know of belongs to…"
"…to Salvador Garcia, yes. He agreed to lend it to you, including his personal pilot."
Brian rolled onto his back and gave his Sire a wary look. "He did? Out of the goodness of his undead heart? What have you promised him? My ass or my soul?"
"I'd never trade you for favours," Alain replied angrily. "He wants a PR campaign for his Argentinian wines in exchange, and I promised him one, that's all."
"I can do that," Brian agreed. "Is the booze any good?"
Alain shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? I only drink French wine. But you'll sell it anyway. You can sell anything. Now, get dressed and go packing"
Alain drove him to the airport, where the private jet of Salvador Garcia – a beautiful, sleek machine – was already waiting for them, and so was its pilot. This was the first time that Brian met Alonzo Solace, an almost two hundred years old, beautiful Spanish Brujah, who not only was the pilot of the infamous Anarch leader but also his driver, shield-mate and long-time lover. He had to admit that the Spaniard was a walking wet dream; he got weak in the knees from the sight, despite his rather eventful sex life with his Sire.
Be careful with that one, my Childe, Alain warned him through their link. Brujah are unpredictable by their very nature, and no one has managed to figure out Alonzo since he entered the Night, back in the 19th century. Do him if you want him, but always cover your back.
He is hot, Brian admitted, but that's not why I'm going to The Pitts. Another time, perhaps.
When you've grown stronger, much stronger, Alain agreed. Then he turned to Alonzo and spoke slowly, deliberately.
"I transfer to you the responsibility for my Childe's well-being for the duration of this journey. You are to keep him safe, take him out Hunting and return him to me unharmed."
Perhaps this was some kind of arcane Kindred ritual, since Alain didn't add any savage threats about what would happen if Brian should get harmed in any way. Alonzo nodded formally and replied in the same manner.
"I take full responsibility for the safety of the Childe. I'll feed him and protect him and return him to you unharmed, or my blood shall be wasted."
The grave oath that even the most savage Anarch took very seriously soothed a little Alain's anxiety. He loathed letting his much-beloved Childe out of town before Brian would be fully trained, accepted by the Conclave and freed, but he knew that in this one thing the fledgling would disobey him and rather walk into the sun than abandon his childhood friend. So Alain swallowed the bitter pill and took the risk.
They reached Pittsburgh at 16:00, local time. There was a rental car waiting for them – a normal one, but since The Pitts was having one of the countless annual rainy days, it wasn't such a big problem.
"So, where now?" Alonzo asked, after having stored the bottled stuff in the ice-boxes in the car.
"Allegheny Memorial," Brian sighed. "I'm sure that Mikey is there with Ben. That's where they always go – they had a doctor there who's a friend."
"Okay," Alonzo nodded, taking one of the bottles out of the ice box, "but you need to eat first."
"I'm not hungry," Brian replied impatiently.
"I don't care," Alonzo said. "You can't walk into a hospital full of people, some of them injured and bleeding, without having fed first. You'd lose control over the Beast, attack people and leave a trail of dead bodies behind you. And if I had to kill you to prevail that, Alain would do indescribable things to me. I'd rather avoid that."
Brian looked at him in deep shock. "You would kill me?"
"Oh, yes," Alonzo replied coldly, "and I'd be within my rights. You're a fledgling, given into my responsibility – if you turned out a danger for the Masquerade, it'd be my duty to destroy you, in order to protect myself and the others. I haven't lived near two hundred years by being careless. So be quiet and feed, if you want to see your friend ever again."
His eyes were cold like pieces of obsidian, and Brian had learned enough about Kindred in general and about Brujah in particular to shut up and feed. In exchange, Alonzo let him drive – it was easier than consult the city map anyway. They managed to reach Allegheny Memorial, a major medical centre in downtown, within visiting hours, and rode the elevator to the fifth floor, where – according to the receptionist – Professor Bruckner had his private room.
The rest of their once so close-knit little group was represented by the lezzies and Ted only, with Justin in Italy (thank all deities) and Emmett still not allowed to travel. The absence of Mikey and Debbie was somewhat surprising, but perhaps they were within, at Ben's bedside.
Only now did Brian understand the risks Alain had been taking by letting him out of eyesight, even with Alonzo at his shoulder. The strong antiseptic smell of the hospital attacked his senses painfully, but it still couldn't fully suppress the scent of mortal blood running in the veins of everyone around him. Their strong mortal heartbeats sounded in his ears like the music of distant drums, their pull almost irresistible. This was the first time he was among mortals since his Embrace – not counting Bethany who knew exactly what she was doing and could protect herself more than adequately – and he understood with painful clearance how precarious his control over the Beast still was.
"Easy, little one," Alonzo murmured in a voice too low for mortal ears. "The Beast is strong in your bloodline, but so are you. And you've just fed; give yourself time to adjust, and you'll be fine."
The reassurance calmed Brian down a little, and since his friends still hadn't detected them, he took a few minutes to get his senses and instincts under control again. It wasn't easy, but it was doable, after all.
"Good," Alonzo murmured, "You're doing well. Surprisingly well for such a new fledgling, in fact. Now, tell me who these people are. I didn't know you were into women, too."
"I'm not," Brian replied with a wry face. "They're just friends; and besides, they're dykes – and what's even worse, married to each other. The leggy blonde is Lindz; we went to college together. Smelly Melly is her… well, I almost said her hubby. She's also a courtroom shark of the worst kind."
"And the puny guy with the receding hairline?" Alonzo asked mercilessly. "Really, Childe, I thought you'd mingle with people of some sort of style. That guy looks so much like a book-keeper that it hurts."
"He is one," Brian said. "The book-keeper of my agency; and a good one, at that. He just has… confidence issues."
Alonzo gave Ted Schmidt a pitying glance and shook his sleek, beautiful head.
"Barely Ventrue material," he said, which went as a moderately bad insult among Brujah. "What a pathetic sight!"
"He does have his uses," Brian replied indignantly, not wanting to side with this strange, arrogant vampire against one of his old friends, even though in his heart he agreed with Alonzo. "And he is reliable… most of the time."
"So is an elderly pack-horse; still, I wouldn't ride into a town on the back of one if I wanted to make a good impression," Alonzo said judgementally. Brian gave him a bland look.
"Wrong century," he said. "You old guys should keep tab on the changes of time a bit better."
"I'm a pilot, aren't I?" Alonzo asked. Brian shrugged.
"You metaphors are hopelessly outdated."
"Perhaps," the Brujah allowed. "It's a cultural thing. When you keep socializing with people who are old enough to remember times you only know from history lessons – and that considering the fact that I'm more than two hundred years old – you tend to become a little old-fashioned in your mannerisms, too. Wait a century and two, and you'll see for yourself."
Brian had a hard time not to giggle – given the place and the situation they were in, that wouldn't have been very appropriate. Still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that waiting a century or two was actually doable for him now, he sometimes felt like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole.
In that very moment Lindsey finally discovered them, and came running to greet Brian, with a tremulous smile and teary eyes, her dark mascara smeared a bit, her lipstick leaving a red mark on Brian's face. As it was her wont, she was talking like a waterfall, in a quiet, subdued voice, emphasizing every other word as if she tried to capture Brian's attention – which, to be honest, she never managed. Brian always liked to pretend he listened to her because he could shut down thinking while Lindz was talking in the background, but that was about all.
Melanie, her eyes also reddened, but dry at the moment – someone needed to keep her calm in a group of overly dramatic mothers and hysterical queers, she would have said if asked – followed her, with a dark, suspicious look aimed at Alonzo, as if she'd tried to figure out who he might be. Perhaps she thought him to be Brian's newest conquest; after all, hadn't Brian brought Justin to Gus' birth when the blond kid had been nothing than his twink-of-the-night? But before she could make any vicious remarks, her eyes met with Alonzo's, and whatever she might have seen there, she apparently thought it better to stay quiet, to Brian's great relief.
Ted stood behind them, his mouth literally agape, and he was just this side of drooling over the gorgeous stranger. Brian withheld the urge to roll his eyes. Ted was so predictable that it almost hurt. Of course he would not know with whom – or what – he was dealing. Even as a mortal, Alonzo would have eaten him alive.
"Theodore," Brian said tersely, seeing Ted floating towards the Brujah, almost unconsciously. "Don't."
Ted blinked a few times, as if just awakening from some pleasant (and probably wet) dream, and stopped mid-movement.
"Oh… Brian," he said feebly. "Good that you could come. Have you brought Em, too?"
"He couldn't change his schedule at such short a notice," Brian replied evasively. "He'll call Mikey later. Where is Mikey, by the way? Within, with Ben?"
"Nah, Debbie dragged him off for a few hours of sleep," Lindsay explained. "They should be back any moment now."
"Who's in with Ben, then?" Brian asked in surprise.
"They won't let us in," Lindsay said, a bit indignantly. "Only family members are allowed. With his immune system practically gone, we'd be a danger for Ben. But they have him under constant surveillance."
"With other words: on a machine," Brian gently remover her arms from around him and stepped back. "All the better. I'll pay my respects to the Professor, then, while nobody is looking."
"Brian!" Melanie protested. "You can't…"
"Watch me!" Brian replied coolly and glanced back at Alonzo. "Ya comin'?"
"Sure," the Brujah was already following him in. "I've promised Alain to keep an eye on you, haven't I?"
Standing at Ben's bedside in room 225, Brian stared down in dread at the shrivelling husk that once had been a man. A strong, desirable man whom he'd taken twice in a row, four years ago, at the White Party. Had he not known for sure that this was, in fact, Ben Bruckner, he'd have difficulties recognizing this long, gaunt body, so fallen in flesh as if there had never been those impressive muscles, trained on with hard – and ultimately futile – work in the fitness studios. The lean, once vivid face was all sunken blue hollows and staring, blanched bones. The sandy hair – what little was still there of it – was thickly peppered with grey and lay lank and lifeless. The close eyes seemed unnaturally large in that grey face, and veined like harebells, the lips shrunken to a shapeless line under the breathing tube in his nose. One large, bony hand was resting on the blanket, crumpled like the claw of a dying bird.
"Soon he will go the way all flesh must go," Alonzo commented quietly.
"Even Kindred?" Brian asked in the same low voice, audible only for keen vampire senses. Alonzo nodded.
"We live longer, much longer, and we live in the Dark, but in the end, we're not so different from the Kine," he said simply. "We are part of the same nature, and eventually, we shall end the same way. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
"But we do live a lot longer," Brian murmured. "Could it… could it save him if he became one of us?"
The Brujah gave him a surprised look. "You'd want to save him? What for? You don't even like him!"
"But Mikey loves him," Brian said quietly. "And he's been good for Mikey, most of the time… better, often, than I could be."
"I see," Alonzo said after a long pause.
"So," Brian pushed. "Could you do it? You're old and strong…"
But Alonzo shook his head. "I'm sorry, Childe. Even if I'd be willing – which I'm not – it would be too late. He's too far gone already. His body wouldn't survive the Change. You know yourself what it's like."
Brian grinned humourlessly. "I should have known better," he commented. "Once in my fucking life I try to be selfless, and it isn't even doable…" he laughed in a self-mocking manner. But Alonzo gestured to him to be quiet.
"Ssh… he's awake!"
And indeed, Ben's eyes were opening languidly; recognition glimmered in his tired look.
"Brian," he whispered, "thanks… for coming…"
"I didn't do it for you," Brian replied almost roughly. A ghost of a smile appeared on Ben's hollow face.
"I know. But Michael… needs you… Always has… always will... go to him…"
"You heard the man the man," Alonzo said, listening to the noises coming from the floor. "Go. "I'll sit here and watch for a while."
Brian hesitated for a moment. His sharpened senses now could recognize Debbie's shrill voice, still at some distance on the floor, and an elusive scent that was achingly familiar, although he'd never been so conscious about it: Michael's. He turned away abruptly.
"I'll be back," he said and left.
Alonzo pulled up a chair at Ben's bedside and watched the dying man with detached curiosity. Death, still so far away for him – or so he hoped – had always fascinated him. Vampires usually died during a fight, in fire or in a cloud of dust, but humans were different. Only at the deathbed of a mortal could he watch the slow trickling away of life energy – the slow transition into the great unknown. Salvador found this… fascination of his morbid, but Alonzo didn't care. Despite their centuries-long friendship, they were different people. He had the right to his personal idiosyncrasies.
He became aware that the object of his study was also studying him, from eyes large and clouded.
"Who… what are you?" Ben whispered.
Alonzo winced. Dying people could sometimes sense the Beast in vampires. Fortunately, they usually didn't have to time to tell anyone about it – and anyway, who would believe them?
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"Brian… all Michael… has left," Ben tried to explain.
"Don't worry about him," Alonzo said. "I'm no threat to him. On the contrary. I'm here to keep him safe."
"What… are you?" Ben insisted. "You're different."
"I'm a vampire," Alonzo replied simply. There was no need to lie. Ben Bruckner wouldn't have the time – or the strength – to harm them. "And so is Brian. He's been born to the night just a few weeks ago."
"And you really… can't save me?" the dying man asked.
"No," Alonzo said bluntly. "The Change is brutal. You'd die a violent death, and an extremely painful one. Even for strong, healthy people, it's a risky step."
Ben closed his eyes again, as if even keeping them open would drain his vaning strength.
"We… can't escape death, after all," he whispered.
"No," Alonzo agreed. "Not in the long run anyway."
After that, they waited together in companionable silence, the dying and the undead, both on their way to the great unknown. With the not insignificant difference, that Alonzo still had centuries to go, while Ben's pilgrimage was nearing its end.
Michael had been strong in all these agonizing weeks. Had watched Ben's vaning without as much as a single tear. He couldn't break down. Couldn't show any weakness. Couldn't become hysterical as his mother had, repeatedly, undermining what little strength he still possessed. He had to remain strong. Ben needed him, his strength, his unconditional love, and he gave hat was asked of him, even though it had become increasingly difficult. Michael Novotny was not one to go back on his given promises, and he'd promised Ben to stay with him, in good times and bad times, in health and sickness, no matter the costs.
But when he saw the tall, radiant shape of Brian approaching him, he finally lost it, completely. He'd missed Brian so terribly all this time, while he had to deal with Debbie's over-emotional reactions, with the demonstrative "support" of Lindsay and Melanie who never missed an opportunity to aim a jab against the absent Brian, who, they'd said, didn't care to come home and stand with Michael in these hard times. Or with Ted, who – although his relationship with Emmett was long over – still couldn't deal with life without Emmett's presence in it.
Now, however, Brian was there, despite Lindsay and Melanie's predictions. Here he was, opening his arms to Michael, and Michael broke down in harsh, bitter sobs in the safety of those familiar arms.
Brian spared him the usual platitudes, and Michael loved him for that more than ever. While everyone else was forcibly "comforting" and bothering him with stupid questions, Brian simply held him in his arms, rocked him like one would rock a child. They could hear Debbie's babbling in the background, but neither of them really listened to her.
"You've come," Michael finally said, when he'd run out of tears.
"Have you ever doubted I would?" Brian asked quietly. Michael shook his head.
"That you'd want to stay away? Not willingly, never. But you have other obligations in LA…"
"None of which is half as important as being there for you," Brian said, and Michael gave him a surprised look. They rarely spoke about their feelings for each other, certainly not Brian, and even less so in the presence of any possible witnesses.
"You've changed," he said.
"More than you can possibly imagine," Brian replied with a grim smile. "But we can discuss my issues later."
"Looks good on you, though," Michael judged with a pale shadow of his usual charming smile on his exhausted face. He didn't look so good, himself, which was understandable, given the circumstances. The concern for Ben had taken its toll: he took on a gaunt, almost lifeless appearance, and he'd lost a lot of weight, too, Brian realized, as if he hadn't been thing enough already. He most likely slept too little, which showed: his beautiful eyes were hollow and shaded by dark circles.
And his trials and tribulations weren't quite over yet. No matter how long the doctors could delay the inevitable – which, in Brian's estimate, couldn't be very long now – the really hard times would come afterwards. As if the loss wouldn't be bad enough in itself, Michael would have to deal with the well-meant but smothering "comfort" of his friends – and before all else, that of his mother. The events following Uncle Vic's death had clearly shown that Debbie was completely unfit to deal with her own grief reasonably – and unwilling to respect everyone else's. She would steamroll Michael with her own demonstrative grieving – unless someone acted quickly when the right moment arrived.
And someone, in this case, meant Brian Kinney, willing and more than capable to support his friend… and determined to keep Michael on his side as long as possible. Preferably forever, but that was a topic for another time.
Right now, all he could do was to hold Michael tightly, stroking his hair, trying to rub away the agony and the desperation that Michael was feeling. Right now, nothing else was asked of him – his presence was all that Michael needed, but that he needed desperately. For everything else, there would be time enough later.
A few minutes – or an eternity – later, the door to Ben's room opened and Alonzo looked out.
"He asks for Michael," he said simply, his keen eyes taking in the small, almost child-like shape resting in Brian's protective embrace. In that very moment, he understood why Alain DeLaigle had called in the middle of the night to ask for Salvador's plane and his pilot, as soon as possible. It was for this man. And Alonzo knew that they wouldn't leave as long as Michael needed Brian, and not even Alain could change that.
"I'll go right in, then," Michael said, guilt shadowing his exhausted face. Alonzo gave him a good, hard look; then he nodded.
"Do it. Brian and I need some rest, after our somewhat… hurried lift-off, and I must look after the plane, too. But we'll be back in, say, four hours. I assume you still have a den in this town, Brian?"
"Sure," Brian said. He hadn't sold the loft, thinking that he might need to return one day. Now he knew this would be the last time he used it. There would be no more returning to The Pitts for him – and if he had anything to say about it, neither would for Mikey.
But before he could burn all bridges behind him and whisk his friend away from this place, he had to sit out the current crisis. He had to wait patiently for Ben's fate to be decided by the higher powers he didn't really believe in, and stand by Michael in the times that would follow. They would be hard enough.
The End – for now