THE MUSICAL VAMPIRE MYSTERIES OF RORY FLANAGAN
Author's Notes: So how are you guys liking the story so far? It was at this point that I really decided to go further with it than I had originally planned. I was just having way too much fun with it. I really like this chapter because as the title says, there is a lot of character backstory and history here and I really loved writing it and plan to expand on it more in the future. Enjoy!
Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 4: History
Once Sam and Rory were in the vehicle and down the road a ways, Sam finally thought it was time to discuss Sebastian's proposal.
"You don't have to do it, Rory. He can't force you to play his little game," the older teen began. "You can't trust Sebastian for anything. I don't want to see you in danger." He slid his hand over to Rory's, grasping it and lacing their fingers together.
"I know. I 'ave to admit, though, I'm curious about me ability. I ne'er really understood it, and if I 'ave a chance to figure it out, I kind o'want to," the younger teen confessed, staring out the window as if too ashamed to look at his boyfriend.
Sam sighed quietly, inwardly frustrated. "It's your decision. I'll respect it, and I'll be there to protect you. You won't be left alone with them, not even for a second."
"Thank ye', Sam. I know ye'll keep me safe. I trust ye'," Rory replied. He squeezed Sam's hand and looked over at him. "Do I 'ave to go home already?"
Sam cocked his head. "It's really late. You need your rest, and won't your caretakers worry about you being out so late?"
Rory bit his bottom lip and stared down at his lap sheepishly. "I uh… I kind o'wanted to ask ye' about that…" Sam raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what Rory was about to say. "Can ye', ye' know, make them not worry? Make it okay for me to be out so late, with ye' I mean."
"You want me to glamour them, is that right? Glamour them so they give you permission to be out all night and not worry about you, right?"
Rory blushed, suddenly embarrassed. He quietly nodded his head, ashamed he even thought of it let alone asked.
"You know that's a very dishonest thing to do. I don't like to glamour people if I don't have to. It's lying, and making them believe the lie against their will. You get that, right?" Sam asked, stealing a glance over at the unnerved boy.
"I… yes, I get it. I shouldn't 'ave asked. I just wanted them to not worry about me when I get home so late, so I can spend more time with ye'. The daytime isn't exactly an option for us," Rory explained quietly. "I understand, though."
Sam smiled innocently. "As long as you understand that, and are comfortable with that, I'll do it for you. As much as I care about you, though, I'm putting this one on you. It's your choice to lie to them. If you're okay with that, if you accept the responsibility of it, I'll do it."
Rory gulped, still looking down. "I do. I understand. I don't like to lie, but… this is different. It's for us. I'm tired of not being able to spend more time with ye', and this is the only way. They'd ne'er approve o'me being with a vampire."
"Okay. You decide when we do it, and I'll do it. But you have to look me in the eyes and ask me, tell me you want to do this. There's no risk of glamouring you, so I want to know you are a hundred percent sure before we go through with it," Sam said.
The young teen inhaled deeply as if he were Oliver Twist about to ask for more food. He waited until they were at a stoplight so Sam could gaze into his eyes. Rory stared right at him and said the words. "Sam, glamour me host family; help me lie to them, so I can stay out in the night with ye' and e'erything will be okay."
Sam smiled. "Yes, sir," he said lightly, leaning over for a quick kiss before the light turned green. "Don't make this a habit. This is one time. I don't like to do it," he reminded him.
"I know. I'm sorry, but I need ye' t'do this for me. I won't e'er ask ye' to do it again," the teen vowed.
"When do you want to do this?"
Rory thought a moment. "Tomorrow evening? Ye' can drive me home, and I can invite ye' in t'meet them, and then ye' can… ye' know, do ye'r spell."
"One of them will have to invite me in since it's their residence; you're just a visitor, but fine, we can do it tomorrow. It gives me time to think about what I'll say to them," Sam agreed.
One more turn and they had arrived at Rory's temporary home. Sam opened the car door for him to let him out, kissed him goodnight, and watched until he disappeared behind the door.
On the drive home, Sam couldn't stop thinking about the glamour. It was a talent that he had unfortunately mastered in his hundred fifty-three years as a vampire. When he first turned, like every newborn he went wild with his newfound power, glamouring women to sleep with him for over three decades before he finally made the choice to stop, and to try to become the person he was as a human. From then on, the only time he worked his skill was to feed on a human, allowing them to give themselves up to him and then erasing any memory of the entire incident, leaving them in their beds, weakened, but otherwise okay.
Sam tried to understand Rory's point. It was endearing that he was so set on spending as much time together as possible, but it also made him a little sad that Rory had to resort to lying to his caretakers for the freedom. As he agreed, however, he would do it just this once, just for him.
Just for him. Because Rory wanted it. Because it would make Rory happy. It had been over fifty years since Sam even partially felt love in his heart, and as fast as it all seemed to be going, he couldn't help but start to feel like he was perhaps feeling that strongly about the teenager. His feelings of affection and admiration were turning into something much stronger, and it genuinely made Sam feel good. He could actually feel his skin warm slightly, a phenomenon he didn't think was possible. Rory was definitely good for him. Sam smiled as he pulled into the driveway, got out of the car and went into his home. It was still early for him, so he went to his office for a while before retreating to a movie before it was time to tuck himself into his coffin for the daytime.
-ooo-
Rory sat nervously in the car, silently praying to himself that he was doing the right thing. He had always been taught that lying was never the right thing to do, but in this case, he felt like he was doing the Pierce family a favor by forcing them to not be concerned with his safety and whereabouts during the night.
Sam opened the door for him, and held out his hand to help him out, even though he didn't need it—it was simply the vampire's way of being a gentleman. They had agreed that they would mention neither the fact that Sam was a vampire, nor that the two of them were dating. That would only complicate things.
The younger teen had planned it out perfectly. He would pretend he forgot his key and ring the doorbell. One of the family would answer the door and Rory would introduce Sam, and with luck, whoever answered the door would invite him inside. After that, it was up to Sam to take the opportunity to 'charm' his way into clouding their minds.
Rory pushed the doorbell, hearing the chime in the house. It was only nine-twenty, and he was never expected to be home before that anyway. Mrs. Pierce answered the door, confused. "Rory dear, what are you ringing for? You have a key," she said softly.
"I know. I must 'ave left it on me nightstand. I'm sorry," he apologized. Mrs. Pierce smiled sweetly and nodded. "Oh, this is me friend, Sam. He gave me a ride home t'night."
"How lovely of him," she replied, not taking the bait like Rory had hoped. She looked up at the man and when she did, she made eye contact just long enough for Sam to capture her gaze.
"Hello, Mrs. Pierce. I'm Sam, his friend. Will you invite me in?" Sam said in an almost arousing tone of voice. Rory bit his bottom lip to keep quiet. He realized that Sam had already begun his 'magic'.
"Oh yes, of course. Come on in, honey," the woman said, standing aside and motioning for the pair to come inside. Sam blinked his eyes, breaking the connection. He had no desire to control these people's minds any longer than he had to. "Hon, we have a guest!" she called out to her husband.
Mr. Pierce came into the hall, yawning. "Who came over at this hour? Oh, hello," he said, first addressing his wife, and then taking notice of the blonde stranger. "Who are you and why are you in my house?"
"Oh honey don't be rude, he's Rory's friend. He gave him a ride home and I thought it polite to ask him in for a moment," Mrs. Pierce scolded.
"Sorry, just been a bad day at work and all. Didn't mean to be so rude," the man said, embarrassed that he had just been reprimanded by his wife in front of a complete stranger. He held out his hand to shake, hoping to make amends.
Sam locked eyes with him right away, capturing his stare. "I'm Sam, Rory's friend. I've come to talk to you and your wife about his well being. Shall we go to the living room?"
Without question, the Pierces led the boys into the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce sat on the couch, facing the boys in the armchairs. Fortunately, the adults were sitting close together, and Sam had glamoured multiple people at once several times before, in his 'wild days'. He leaned into them and took their eyes, urging them both to stare into his own at the same time.
"You both know that Rory is a big boy. He's old enough to take care of himself," Sam began. Both of his 'victims' slowly nodded their heads in understanding. "You have no need to worry about him when he isn't home. In fact, you don't need to worry at all, because he will always be safe," he went on, pausing to let the glamour take hold in their heads.
Rory watched, unsure if he was more frightened of what Sam was doing, right in front of him, or terrified of himself for letting his boyfriend go through with this at his request.
"Rory will always be safe, because he will be with me. I am like his bodyguard, completely devoted to protecting him from harm. Rory has permission from now on to stay out as late as he wishes, and will always return home by dawn."
The Pierce family nodded their heads again then repeated in unison, "Rory will be safe. We have no reason to worry. He can stay out as long as he wants to. He will be safe with you."
Sam smiled, satisfied that his suggestions had taken hold. He let the glamouring settle into their minds before he blinked his eyes, severing the connection.
Sam stood up, holding out his hand. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both, but I really have to be getting home. It's late."
"Rory dear, are you joining him?" Mrs. Pierce asked innocently. Rory nodded slowly, rising from the armchair. "Well make sure you're home no later than six in the morning. You need your sleep before you have to go to work, sweetheart."
"Yes, ma'am," the teen replied, saying nothing else.
"You two have fun. I'd say be safe but I know he'll be fine, right Sam?" Mr. Pierce said, his entire demeanor having changed from when he first entered the room.
"Yes, sir. He will be safe and sound," Sam replied. He took Rory's hand and led him out of the front door. The two Pierces acted as if nothing had happened, nor noticed that the boys were holding hands, as if they had simply met Rory's friend and nothing more.
When they got in the car, Sam looked over at his boyfriend, who was staring off into space.
"What's wrong? I did what you asked," Sam inquired as he started the car. His tone was flat, obviously dismayed at what he had just done.
"I guess I'm just amazed," the boy admitted. "I didn't expect it to go so fast. To be so easy like that."
Sam huffed lightly. "Easy for you, because you didn't have to do it. I told you I don't approve of the idea anymore, but I did it for you. You got what you wanted, and now it's time I got what I want."
Rory suddenly looked worried, his eyes widening. Oh me God, what does he mean by that? Is he ready for us to… do it?
Sam chuckled. "What are you so afraid of? I just want you to sing to me."
"Sing to ye'?"
"I know you have a beautiful voice. I've heard you quietly singing to yourself at work, and when you're waiting for your ride. It's quiet, but I know it's good. I want you to sing to me, in return for granting your favor," Sam stated with a smile.
"Okay. But do we 'ave to do it here? Can we go somewhere that's a little more… romantic?" Rory asked, blushing in the darkness.
Sam started to drive down the street, pausing for a stop sign before continuing. "I know a place we can go that's just right. I can listen to your beautiful voice in solitude, with nobody to interrupt us."
Rory smiled, happy to focus on something other than the dirty deed he had just made his boyfriend do for him. He owed it to Sam to do what he asked, even though he knew Sam wouldn't force him to. It would be his first time singing for a special someone, but he was glad it was Sam. It just seemed right.
-ooo-
"Here?" Rory asked, looking around. Sam had driven the car to a park, the pair of them getting out and walking deep into the woods. Had he been alone, or with anyone else, Rory would have felt very nervous in the woods at night, but with Sam he felt completely safe.
In the middle of the woods was a clearing—a lake with a pier that at the end, was home to a gazebo. The moonlight shone down, reflecting on the still lake water, giving them just enough light to guide their way down the dock and to the gazebo.
"Yes, here," Sam answered, sitting down on one of the benches. "This is a good spot, because your voice will echo into the night air, it's otherwise silent here, and the scenery is gorgeous." He smiled as he gazed at his boyfriend, the moonlight catching his face.
"O-okay. I, uh, I don't know what to sing. What do ye' want me to sing for ye'?" the teen asked, blushing. He wondered for a moment if Sam could see in the dark the way a cat could, if Sam could see him blushing in the darkness.
Sam thought a moment. "Sing something… that's close to your heart," he answered, grinning at the cheesiness of the instruction. When he saw the slightly confused look on the boy's face, he gave him something more to work with. "Pick something that means something to you. Something that says how you feel. Something that reflects your emotions."
Rory was silent as he scanned his mind for such a song. He knew so many songs, but he had never thought before about any of them having meaning, let alone something so personal. Finally, something came to mind. It was old, but it had been a favorite of his when he was a young kid, even though at that time it was already out of date. His friends would chide him for the artist—The Backstreet Boys—but that didn't matter.
"Do ye' want me to just stand here, or sit next to ye', or…?" Rory asked nervously. In glee club it was either performed in front of the choir room for the rest of the club, or it was part of an onstage performance. In this case, he had no idea exactly what Sam wanted him to do.
Sam chuckled. "Do whatever comes natural. Just close your eyes, start singing, and however your body feels like moving, it will do it," Sam replied. The young teen nodded, swallowing back his nervousness. He stood against the side of the gazebo, facing out toward the water, looking up at the moonlight. Finally he opened his mouth to sing the words.
Open up your heart to me
And say what's on your mind, oh yes
I know that we have been through so much pain
But I still need you in my life this time
At the beginning of the chorus, he turned around, facing Sam's smiling face, looking deep into his eyes. Eyes that should have been lifeless, but were anything but.
And I need you tonight
I need you right now
I know deep within my heart
It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right
I really need you tonight
By now, Rory was becoming more comfortable with his performance. He slowly started to walk away from the rail and toward Sam, still keeping his gaze.
I figured out what to say to you
But sometimes the words they, they come out so wrong, always they do
And I know in time that you will understand
That what we have is so right this time
When Rory hit the chorus this time, he sat down next to his boyfriend, leaning his head against Sam's shoulder. He sang the words with such conviction, such genuine meaning, that he began to tear up.
And I need you tonight
I need you right now
I know deep within my heart
It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right
All those endless times we tried to make it last forever more
And baby I know
I need you
I know deep within my heart
It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right
I really need you, oh
I need you tonight (I need you, oh I need you baby)
I need you right now (It's gotta be this, it's gotta be this)
I know deep within my heart
No, it doesn't matter if it's wrong or it's right
All I know is baby
I really need you tonight
Rory trailed off the last words, leaning over until he was lying with his head in Sam's lap, tears having finally taken over. It was a very quiet sobbing, the kind that was happy, not sad. Sam simply ran his fingers through the boy's hair, cooing about how wonderful the song was.
"That one must really mean something to you if it brings up tears," the blonde observed as he continued to stroke the boy's hair.
Rory sniffled, smiling, his head still in Sam's lap. "It does. It says exactly how I feel. About… about ye'."
The vampire shifted the teen back up so that he was sitting, facing him. Sam leaned in, keeping Rory's face still with a finger under his chin, and pressed his lips firmly against the young teen's. Of course it was nowhere near their first time kissing, but there was something different about this kiss. It was innocent; it was simple, but it said so much.
They sat there for several minutes, Sam's arms wrapped around his young boyfriend, occasionally taking a moment to gently kiss him..
It was getting late, and Sam could sense Rory's need for rest. He could feel the slower breathing, the relaxed blood pressure. "Do you want to come home with me tonight?" he asked softly.
Rory lifted his head and looked at Sam. "Yes. I do, I really do."
Sam smiled and kissed the top of the boy's head. "Good. I just want to have you there with me, watch you fall asleep, watch you dream. Even though by dawn, I have to hide away from the sun. That's when you'll need to go home."
"Okay. Will ye' sleep next to me? Or… I guess ye' don't get tired right now, but will ye' lay with me?" the teen asked.
"Yes. Yes, I will. I'll tuck you in and lay with you until it's time for dawn."
"Ye' won't be bored, me just laying there?" Rory asked.
Sam shook his head. "No. I'll watch you sleep, and I have a book I can read as well. I'll be just fine. I'm just like you—I don't have to be having an adventure to be content."
As they walked out of the gazebo, neither of them mentioned to the other that they could hear the faint sound of a woman, singing, off in the distance.
By the time they arrived at Sam's house, Rory was already half asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open.
-ooo-
Sam carried Rory into his house and up to the bedroom. It was a room he hadn't actually used, ever, but not long after moving in, he had decided that he wanted his house to look like a home, and part of that look was standard bedrooms. He laid Rory down on the king-sized mattress, positioning the pillow under his head just right. He gazed down at the slumbering boy, beautiful in his innocence.
The vampire had considered taking Rory's jeans off at least, for comfort, but he didn't want the teen to think he had been violated, or barriers crossed. He settled for removing his shoes, which he placed at the foot of the bed. Sam carefully sat on the edge of the bed, bringing his legs up, and sliding up next to his boyfriend, wary of waking him. He turned off the small lamp on the bedside table, leaving the room in complete darkness as he listened to the steady rhythm of a human heartbeat right next to him.
-ooo-
Rory only slept about two hours before waking again. He found that Sam had stayed right next to him the entire time, a Kindle Fire in his hands as he read from the glowing screen. "I didn't disturb you, did I?" Sam asked as Rory sat up, scooting back until he was right next to the man.
"No, not at all. I just woke up," Rory replied with a shrug. He peeked over at the book Sam was reading, noticing that the font size was much larger than a normal book. "Why are the words so big?"
If vampires could blush, Sam would have been a deep red at that moment. He clicked off the power button, setting the reader on the nightstand. "I have trouble with the words," he admitted. Wanting to be able to see his boyfriend in the light, Sam reached aside and clicked the lamp on. The room filled with a soft glow, just enough light to feel romantic.
"What d'ye' mean? Like ye' need glasses or something?"
Sam shook his head. "No. I uh… see, when I was still human, I couldn't read at all. I tried. I even got in trouble over it. Nobody could seem to understand that I just could not read. I learned decades later that I have a condition called dyslexia, which jumbles up the letters sometimes and can make it harder to read. It's easier to deal with now, but back then they didn't know what that was. They just thought I was too stupid for schooling, so my parents took me out of school and taught me everything about the farm instead."
Rory listened intently. It was a strange concept to think that a vampire could have a reading disorder, especially since they had special healing abilities. Apparently, however, that didn't 'heal' everything. When he heard Sam call himself stupid, that got to him.
"Sam, ye' aren't stupid! Don't e'er say that again!" the teen burst out. "It's not ye'r fault they didn't know back then. If they did, ye' could 'ave gotten help and stayed in school."
Sam stroked Rory's hair with one hand. "Don't worry. I don't think I'm stupid anymore. I did for a long time though, even after I became vampire. It wasn't until the early nineteen-hundreds that I think I started to actually get some help."
"What did ye' do?"
The vampire chuckled. "I did what any sensible adult would do. I got a tutor," he replied. He chuckled again as he noticed Rory's bewildered look. "I did. It was another vampire—a woman—and in her human life she had been a teacher. She was much older than me by eighty years, but she was patient and understood what was going on with me."
"That was really nice o'her. Did ye' 'ave to pay her? How did ye' 'ave money then, were ye' rich?" the inquisitive young man asked.
Sam grinned. "No, I didn't pay her. Not in the usual sense. See… she and I had a… special relationship. It was like what people call now 'friends with benefits'."
A wave of understanding crossed over the human's features. "Ohhh, so ye' were friends, and ye' got the benefit o'her teaching. That makes sense. So I guess in a way, we're like that too. I get the benefit o'ye'r protection."
Sam swallowed to keep from laughing. "Uh, that's not what I meant. I meant that we were friends, with the benefit of a sexual relationship as well. We didn't date, we simply 'hung out' together, as they say. That included her teaching me. A lot of times we ended up doing many other things as well. But it was purely friendship."
"So where is she now?" Rory asked, a tiny ping of jealousy hitting him in the chest.
"Gone. She met the true death in the sixties. I haven't spoken of her since until just now," Sam replied, a sad tone in his normally mellow voice. He felt Rory's hand roam over his lap and clasp his own hand, locking their fingers together.
"True death… Is that when a vampire is… killed for good?"
Sam nodded slowly. "Yes. Vampires are considered already dead, so when a vampire is destroyed, it's called the true death. I hope you never have to witness that—it's a very gruesome affair."
"How… how does a vampire die? Get destroyed…" Rory went on.
Sam smirked. "You realize that we don't want our secrets common knowledge. We can be killed with a wooden stake through the heart, wooden bullets, decapitation, silver, sunlight—the ultraviolet light in particular. I know that I can trust you to learn our secrets." None of his words were questions—they were stated as fact, as if Sam already knew that Rory understood the bond between them. "Well, silver is a little different. Bullets are more dangerous, and any silver directly in the heart will kill us. Again. Any other time though, it just hurts. A lot. It melts our flesh and burns and it's kind of like what heated acid would be for a human."
"There's no coming back after that is there? No way to stop it, or reverse it? Make ye' alive again?"
The blonde shook his head. "I'm afraid not. That's why it's the true death. There is no coming back. In short, we sort of burst into a messy bunch of blood and tissue. There's no way to come back from that. It'd be like trying to make a human come back to life after they make a short visit to the food processor."
Rory winced at the mental image. "Okay, I get it. No reviving, so nobody better come near ye' with any silver, wood, or anything else that can hurt ye', or else I'll… I'll make sure they regret it!"
Sam laughed openly. "I admire your loyalty, but I think I'll be fine."
Rory snuggled up against Sam's side, sighing. He was feeling tired again, but he loved talking to Sam, especially learning about his past. "Sam, will ye' tell me how it happened now? How ye were made into a vampire, I mean," he asked pleadingly.
"Are you sure you want to hear it? It's not the most pleasant story, and I don't want you to worry or have nightmares," Sam explained. He waited for Rory to respond in the affirmative before finally going through with his story.
-ooo-
Sam Evans wiped the sweat off his brow as the boiling sun beat down on his bare torso. He had been chopping wood for the better part of the afternoon, piling it up next to the farmhouse. He waved at his mother, who was hanging wet clothes to dry on the clothesline.
Mr. Evans had been toiling away in the barn, the sound of hammering echoing out through the door. He had been repairing a broken stable where something had snuck into the barn and broken down a gate, getting to one of the cows. Whatever had snuck in had done a number on the poor cow, leaving it broken in a heap, yet oddly enough there was very little blood around.
There were rumors going around about livestock in the county suddenly dying, some in rather gruesome ways, others looking like they just collapsed in place. In every case there was little to no blood in the vicinity, leaving no evidence behind. Every single farmer had experienced either a loss of an animal, or some sort of vandalism, so everyone was under the impression that the guilty party was either a very strong, very clever animal, or an outsider—a human who had no business in the area whatsoever.
A few hours later, the sun began to set, and it was time for Mrs. Evans to prepare dinner. The previous day, her husband had gone hunting and secured a deer, which they would be eating for dinner that very night.
"Sam, honey, take your brother out back, the pair of you wash up. I'll tend to your sister after supper," Mrs. Evans instructed as her son stood in the doorway.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his little brother Steven darting through the kitchen and past his brother into the yard. Sam sighed and turned around, chasing after the child. It was a game between them—Steven would run around the yard trying to dodge his older brother, refusing to go out back until he was captured. When he finally snagged the boy, he wrangled him over his shoulder and to the small shed in the back.
The shed wasn't really a shed, it was more like two walls and a roof, set against the house. A hand-cranked water pump was accessible from the back where Sam pumped water into the large, tin basin they used for their bathing.
"Alright kid, bathtime," Sam teased, unclasping the buttons on Steven's overalls. "Off with the knickers and get in the tub," he instructed. The boy did as he was told, a scowl across his face as he stepped gingerly into the basin, the cold water sending shivers up and down his spine. "Quit whinin', we all gotta do it. No such thing as a heated water pump," he said, taking off his own trousers and stepping into the water.
Steven grabbed the cloth hanging on a nail in the wooden wall while Sam took the bar of homemade soap sitting in the small tin bucket hanging on a nail on the other side. Sam knelt down in the bin in front of his brother, taking the cloth and soap and lathering the boy up.
"Okay kid, your favorite part," the teen teased sarcastically. He took a small bucket and dipped it in the tub, then dumped it over Steven's body, dousing his head and rinsing the suds from his small frame. He squealed in protest, but got his revenge when he watched Sam have to dump the bucket over his own head after washing himself off. The boys splashed back and forth a little, but didn't want to waste too much of the water. When they had enough, Sam stepped out of the basin and took another, larger fabric from yet another nail and dried himself off before pulling his trousers back on.
"Come on Sammy, hurry up! I'm cold!" Steven whined. Sam smirked at him before helping him step out of the basin and wrapping him up in the cloth. When he was dried off, Sam helped him fasten his overalls back on.
"We better get inside. It's dark and I bet supper's almost ready. I can smell it," the teen declared. Just as they stepped out of the shed and into the yard, they were greeted by a tall figure standing between the house and the woods.
The stranger was dressed in unusual clothes—lots of tattered fabrics sewn together in a patchwork outfit that was rather ugly. He had long hair pulled back in a plait that reached his waist, and there was something about his eyes. They seemed to glisten in the moonlight.
"Can I help you, stranger?" Sam asked, taking Steven's hand and ushering him to stand behind him. The figure said nothing, but continued to glare right at Sam. "Look, you need to get off our property. Go on up to town a few miles, get a hotel or a brothel and keep out of trouble, ya hear?"
The figure shook its head slowly before finally speaking. "No. I have no intention of going anywhere. Not yet," he said in a slow, deep tone. Sam gritted his teeth, letting go of Steven's hand.
"Get father, tell him to bring his rifle," Sam ordered quietly. Steven turned to run to the house but was stopped in his tracks, a brief gust of wind rushing past the startled teenager. He turned and saw the stranger standing between his brother and the house.
"Now now, don't be so hasty. We aren't done here yet," the man hissed, looking down at Steven with hungry eyes. Sam didn't say anything but instead stepped forward and threw his fist through the air, attempting to punch the intruder. Instead, he hit nothing at all.
"Hmm, too slow it seems," the stranger teased.
"Steven! Go! Get help!" Sam barked. Steven wasted no time, making a mad dash for the door. Sam could hear the boy screaming to his parents, he could hear his father shouting orders to his wife to keep their daughter and son safe. Mr. Evans purposefully walked out of the door, holding his rifle, ready to shoot.
"Get out of here!" Mr. Evans demanded. "Get out before I blow your damned head off!" He aimed the rifle carefully, staring through the sight right at the man.
The stranger scoffed. "Give it your best shot, old timer," he said. Mr. Evans didn't need anymore of an invite, and pulled the trigger.
When the smoke cleared from the gunshot, the stranger had moved with intense speed behind Sam, holding the teen's arm behind him.
"I like your bravery, old man," the stranger taunted further. "You want to protect your family. Admirable. Unfortunately, you took a shot at me. You tried to take off my head. I think in return, I'll take something of yours."
Sam was struggling hard, but the stranger had a firm grip on his arm and had wrapped his patchwork-covered arm across Sam's chest. "The worst pain a parent can feel is the loss of a child." The stranger glared at Mr. Evans with an evil glint in his eye. "I want this one."
"No! Spare him and take me instead! If a price must be paid—" Mr. Evans shouted, but it was too late. The stranger had shifted his hands around, holding Sam's head down, exposing his neck. Within a nanosecond, the man had lowered his head and was sucking on the teen's neck, dark liquid pooling around his lips.
Mr. Evans was frozen in horror. He told his body to move, to help his son, but something was keeping him in place. Fear? He wasn't sure, all he knew was that this intruder had begun to drink the blood of his first born child, the sound of Sam's screams filling the night sky.
-ooo-
Rory sat with his jaw open, his eyes wide as Sam described the horrible event of the night he was turned. He was shivering, not from cold but from fear. The very idea that his boyfriend, a man who was now incredibly strong, had been overpowered and taken against his will was frightening. He couldn't imagine Sam in a state of weakness at all.
"Do you want me to go on? I can tell you're upset," Sam asked, pulling the teen closer to him.
"No, go on. I want to hear. It's part o' ye'r past," Rory confirmed. Sam nodded and picked up where he had left off.
-ooo-
When Sam awoke, he saw nothing but rock around him. A cave. He was in a cave. Through the opening he could see trees and off in the distance, the moonlight.
He felt a throbbing pain in his neck, his body weak and his head spinning. He tasted something foreign on his tongue. It had a coppery flavor, like metal had been placed in his mouth. He raised his hand to his face, feeling some sort of stickiness around his mouth. When he pulled pack his hand, he could see there was a dark stain on his fingers.
Before he could even think, he felt a piercing pain in his neck, hands on his body, and the little bit of strength he had remaining left his body, as he once again passed out.
When Sam awoke the next time time, he felt heaviness on his body. He opened his eyes but couldn't see. He could smell though. He inhaled and felt soil enter his nose. As his body became more aware of itself, he could feel against his skin the sensation of dirt. He was lying in dirt. No, he was buried in dirt.
The soil was loose enough for him to move his arms, and he began to dig his way out. When he finally felt air, he climbed out of the hole he had been buried in, covered in granules, looking around for any sign of what had happened to him.
He saw the cave not far ahead, so he slowly crept through the woods, stealing a glance into the opening. He felt a cold breeze and then heard a whisper in his ear.
"Welcome to hell, kid," the voice laughed. "We're going to be together a long, long time."
-ooo-
Rory sat in the bed, staring at Sam, who had streaks of crimson running down his cheeks from his eyes.
"Oh me god, Sam. I… I don't know what t'say," Rory murmured. He reached out and wiped away the disgusting tears from his boyfriend's face, not even acknowledging the fact that he had cried blood. He then threw himself forward into Sam's arms, sobbing into his chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry," he whispered.
Sam stroked the teen's head, holding him tight. "It's alright. It's a hard memory, even after all these years, but it's what happened. Now you know. Now you know just how cruel the world can be, and why I want to keep you safe."
Rory pulled back, sniffling. "I'm sorry for asking ye' t'tell me. I'm so sorry!" he cried. "It's so awful, nobody deserves that kind o'thing to happen! Such a nightmare, Sam. Ye' didn't deserve that…"
"There's no changing what happened. After that, I went through a lot of negative things in my life, things I will never be proud of. Things I feel nothing but shame for. Murder. Rape," Sam confessed. "But over the years I found my humanity again, and I knew that even though I had something very terrible happen to me, I didn't have to let it destroy who I was. I had to become a vampire, but I did not have to become a monster."
"Ye'… ye' raped people? Murdered people?" Rory asked, sitting back, his face going blank.
Sam hung his head. "Yes. I did. I'm very ashamed of that. It's not who I am. It's not how I was raised. Not as a human, anyway. It's a very difficult thing, suddenly becoming vampire. It's not like puberty where just your voice changes and hair grows in strange places," he chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke.
"Well then, what is it like?" Rory asked, almost wishing he hadn't as soon as the words left his mouth.
"Honestly? I hardly remember most of it. The beginning, that is. There's images, flashes of memories, but nothing as vivid as what I remember about the day I was changed. I remember I had an insatiable hunger I couldn't control. I remember literally feeling like I was going insane. I was angry and confused, and my maker, he was far from understanding. Everything he taught me was about killing. And raping. He had a sick obsession with rape. Especially children. I refused to be a part of any of that, even in my worst days. We parted ways eventually; he releasing me as a free vampire. That was when we had our big disagreement, when I declared I wasn't going to abide by his way anymore. "
The young teen listened silently to the revelations. He had never expected Sam to have been capable of rape. Feeding on humans, he expected that. Tru Blood was a recent invention, so there was no way around that before its appearance. He had even accepted the fact that over a hundred years, Sam had been far from virginal, but the idea that he had raped people was horrifying.
"You're disturbed. I can see it in your face, even with hardly any light. You're scared. Disgusted," Sam stated sorrowfully. "I can't say that I blame you. I would rather you know now, however, than be drawn too deeply into things and find out later."
Rory looked up at Sam, catching his green eyes. "Sam, I… Ye' promise me that isn't who ye' are anymore. At all. Promise me that person is gone. Tell me to believe that ye' went from being made right to being who ye' are now. Make me think that," he begged.
"Even if I could glamour you into thinking that, I wouldn't do it. I could never bring myself to. I want you to know the real me, and still be able to lo-" Sam paused as he realized the word about to slip from his lips.
"Love ye'?" Rory finished for him.
Sam nodded. "Yes. Yes, you're right. I don't want you to fall in love with a fantasy, with lies. I want to be loved for who I am, troubled past and all. I can't ask you to forgive the horrible things I've done, but I can ask you to trust me now, to believe in me, that I am a changed man from those days." He stared deep into Rory's eyes, a tactic often used for glamouring, but Rory was immune, and Sam was incredibly thankful for that.
Rory sighed deeply. "This is a lot to take in. I 'ave strong feelings for ye', Sam. I want to believe in ye'. I guess the best I can do is let ye'r past be ye'r past, and care for who ye' are now." He blinked his eyes, looking almost mournful. Sam wanted to hug him, to kiss him, but hesitated. He didn't want the boy to feel influenced by physical sensations.
"What are ye' waitin' for, Sam? I said I want ye' t'let go o'ye'r past. Live now. Be the man ye' want to be loved. Be that man. Let me fall in love with him. With ye'." Rory gazed into Sam's eyes again, pleading for the vampire to understand what he was trying to get across. "Stop waiting. Hold me, and tell me about ye'r new life. The good parts. Tell me the things ye' are proud of. Things ye' aren't ashamed of. Put the devils behind ye', and move on."
Sam wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, blood-soaked tears filling his eyes. "For sixteen you are so poetic and smart. Anyone ever tell you that?"
Rory scoffed. "No, ne'er. They all say I'm a big, clumsy idiot."
Sam kissed him on the forehead. "Well they're wrong. Because in a hundred and seventy years I haven't heard anyone say something so genuinely wise as what you just said to me," he admitted.
Rory yawned, hugging the vampire tightly again. "I'm so tired. Ye'r stories are o'erwhelmin', but I'm glad ye' shared. Next time, tell me about the woman who taught ye' to read. That has t'be a happy memory."
"Sure. I'd love to." Sam smiled and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was incredibly late. "Maybe you should try to get back to sleep. I'll get you home just before dawn, and then I'll see you again when the sun sets."
Rory snuggled up next to Sam, the pair of them sliding down into a lying position, spooning.
"I really do 'ave a lot of special feelings for ye'. They get stronger e'ery time I see ye'. I care about ye, so much."
"I do, too. About you. I don't want you to say the words until you feel them though."
Rory didn't reply, but just nodded his head against Sam's chest. Sam didn't have to specify what words he meant—Rory already knew. When he fell asleep, he dreamt about Sam's story of being turned, except in his dream, Sam fought back and never changed. In his dream, Sam was still an innocent farmboy, like he should have been. When he woke up in his room the next morning, he wondered to himself if Sam had never been made vampire, would he ever have found someone to be with? Would either of them? He decided that they would never know, but all that mattered was that they had found each other now, and things were going well. The present was what mattered. Even without glamour, Rory could believe that. The present was what they had, and the present was what made the future.
-ooo-
Santana sat on the arm of Sebastian's throne on Scandals' stage, her arm draped around him, her fingers toying with the man's shirt collar. "What exactly do you plan to do with this boy?" she asked with an almost disgusted tone.
Sebastian smirked as he answered her. "Nothing serious. I simply wanted an excuse to get him alone, away from Sam. I'll get him to touch a couple of humans to 'test out' his whatever it is he does, but mostly I just want him to myself for a while. I want to bed him, and I want to know what the extent of these powers are. They may be of use to me."
"You are sneaky, Sebastian. You just better hope he doesn't have any other abilities that might surface, and you better be careful who he touches," Santana warned.
"You think I don't know that?" Sebastian hissed, shrugging her off of him. "I won't be letting him into my head, nor should you let him into yours." He sat up straight and sneered, unsure if he was more irritated with himself for letting his libido overpower his common sense, or with Santana for bringing that point to light. "Go man the bar or something," he ordered, wanting to be alone for a while.
"Fine," she replied, annoyed. She got up off the chair and strutted over to the bar, purposely exaggerating her movements as if trying to draw the attention of any male, or female, in range of sight.
Sebastian checked his watch, an expensive gold piece with a crystal face. Sam was due to show up with Rory any moment. He'd call Santana over if he needed help tending to Sam. He had a feeling the young vampire wouldn't take kindly to the idea of Rory going anywhere with him alone.
-ooo-
Sam pulled into the crowded parking lot of Scandals, eyeing the door as if it were a gateway into hell. "You don't have to do this you know," he said reassuringly.
Rory smiled faintly. "No, it'll be okay. Besides, I 'ave ye' there to protect me from big bad Sebastian and Santana."
The vampire parked the car, getting out to open the door for his protégé. He gave him a quick kiss and took his hand. "Just remember, don't let Sebastian intimidate you. He can't glamour you, and you're mine, so he can't lay a finger on you."
The teen nodded, taking a deep breath as they entered the bar. As usual, it was dimly lit with lots of scantily clad men and women dancing about, the little bit of clothing they were wearing consisting of leather and chrome-plated chains. Overall, the people looked trashy with their excessive black makeup, poorly dyed hair in ridiculous styles, and chrome body piercings in places metal did not belong in.
"These people are disgusting, Sam," Rory whispered. "It's like a horror movie mixed with porn."
Sam giggled. "Believe it or not, this is tame for vampires. There's a bar in Louisiana that's a pure sex club. Ropes and chains and slings and all kinds of rubber sex toys and lots and lots of raunchy bondage and orgies." Rory looked even more disgusted than he had before, almost like he might throw up.
"Ha ha, don't worry, not my kind of place. I went there once, in 1980, and after walking through the door I looked around the room and left. I hadn't heard anything about the club before other than that it was a bit on the wild side. It was gross. I was reformed by then of course," Sam explained. Rory seemed relieved knowing that Sam hadn't participated in such raunchy activities.
As they approached Sebastian's throne, the man was already grinning like a cat, eyeing his prey. "Hello Samuel. Rory."
"Hi," Sam said with a hint of irritation. Rory greeted him back as well, keeping the nervousness out of his voice.
"Let's get down to business," Sebastian announced. "I'll be taking the boy with me, to meet a few of my human compatriots and a doctor of the supernatural variety. I believe you know her—Shannon, the bouncer. She's very gifted. She doesn't read those science textbooks out of boredom."
"I'm coming with you," Sam replied, his eyes as cold as steel as he stared at Sebastian.
The sheriff scoffed loudly. "No. I don't need your interference with his concentration. You can wait in my office, with Santana."
"I don't think so. Either I go with him, or we leave right now," Sam declared icily.
Rory turned to Sam and put his hand on the man's chest. "It's fine. I'll be alright. Remember what ye' said to me. I'll be safe." His pleading eyes told Sam that he was confident in his decision, ready to face what lay ahead.
"Fine. If you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm coming to get you whether Sebastian likes it or not," Sam replied.
Sebastian snapped his fingers and within a split second, Santana had arrived at their location. "Take care of Mr. Evans here."
Santana took Sam by the arm, which he shrugged away. She grinned, leading him to the office through the employees only door. "Come on, he'll be fine," she said, annoyed. "For a hundred-seventeen you're such a baby sometimes."
Sebastian giggled to himself as he listened to Santana's insult. He stood up and took Rory by the hand, leading him to the door of the basement. Rory tore his hand away with a grunt. "Don't touch me."
"I'm not going to hurt you. Come on, follow me." Sebastian said. Rory followed him down the stairs into a rather creepy looking room. It was large and concrete all around. A large, iron carousel outfitted with shackles along the rim occupied the center of the basement.
Rory looked around nervously, pausing in front of the stairs and even starting to back up a little. "What is all this?"
"Oh, don't mind all that," Sebastian chuckled. "None of it's for you. It's just nice and quiet down here, so you won't be interrupted. Now, our guests should be here any moment."
The teen assumed Sebastian was referring to whomever it was he wanted Rory to test out his ability on. He heard a steel door squeal as it opened and four people came out, three of them in chains around the wrists and ankles.
"What is this!?" Rory shouted, suddenly outraged. "Ye' can't keep people locked up in here like animals! Let them out, right now!" he demanded.
Sebastian placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Calm down. It's for their own safety. See, they're a little... crazed. One of our regulars found them in the woods, blubbering like idiots."
Rory took a closer look at the three captives, and then he suddenly recognized them. "Oh me god! I know these boys!" he exclaimed. The sheriff raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "They attacked me, and Sam saved me from them, but I 'aven't seen them since."
"Ah Samuel, ever the hero," Sebastian remarked sarcastically. "Whatever happened to these idiots wasn't something done by a vampire. I have a feeling they may have been hypnotized or something by whatever it is that killed that high school student."
"So what d'ye' want with me?" Rory asked harshly.
"I want you to see if you can dig around in their heads, see what you can pull out of there. Maybe a memory of what happened to them. A flash of who or what did this to them. There's three of them so you have to be able to get something out of one of them," Sebastian explained.
Rory glared at him. "So this is how ye' wanted to help me explore me power? What's her purpose then?" he asked, nodding toward the woman who had come through the door with them.
"This is Beiste. She's one of our bouncers, but also an excellent medic in supernatural abnormalities and diseases. She's here to keep the kids under control, make sure they stay calm and don't hurt anyone," Sebastian answered. Rory nodded at Beiste, but she simply kept a neutral expression on her face.
"Okay so what d'we do now?" the teen asked. In response, Beiste picked up the nearest of the three boys and carried him over to the carousel. She adjusted his iron chains so he was then strapped to one of the girders, hands behind him. He was struggling quite a bit, but the more he struggled, the more he tired himself out.
"Just put your hands on him and see what you can yank out," Sebastian answered, putting a suggestive spin on the word 'yank' and winking at the boy. "Go on, see what you can do."
Rory sighed. The three boys were almost more intimidating now than they had been the night that they had beaten him to death. They were just violent assholes then, but now they were mentally deranged. He tried to maintain a confident posture as he walked up to the first boy, Eric, looking him over.
The prisoner was pitiful. He had torn his clothes in numerous places, his shirt mostly shredded fabric hanging off of his frame. He had scratch marks all over his arms and legs and face where he had obviously been clawing at himself. He continued his pathetic struggle against the beam, but he wasn't going anywhere.
Rory raised his hands and placed them on either side of the boy's head, then tried to catch his eyes. Eye contact wasn't necessary but it helped. The fool was struggling against the chains so badly, however, that they couldn't lock eyes.
For Rory, it was like trying to dig through clay. Normally, he could see surface memories easily, and ones that were older memories took a bit more concentration and focus to pull out. He shook his head. "Nothing. Not even recent."
"Keep trying," Sebastian urged. Rory nodded and refocused, closing his eyes and picturing himself trying to literally dig through the clay of the boy's head. All that was coming out was chips, however. Not even full flashes, but merely quick strobes of colors, mostly blacks and grays. When Sebastian could tell that Rory was about to give up, he urged him on again. "Don't stop, keep going!"
Rory kept concentrating, picturing the clay tearing away bit by bit, but it was tedious, and his head was starting to hurt. He could hear Sebastian in the background, demanding him to keep going, not to stop. Rory's hands started to feel hot, tingly. He could feel beads of sweat on his forehead, a sickly feeling in his stomach, his headache turning more into a migraine. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tighter, boring into the head of the insane teenager. Eric was yelling obscenities and word salad, thrashing about the best he could in his restraints.
There was a faint odor of something burning, and Rory's hands were so hot it felt like he had them in an oven. Rory suddenly found himself screaming, a strange sensation of flying or falling, a rush of air, and then his body stopping, hitting something firm but soft.
Rory felt dizzy, his head spinning and his hands still tingling. "What happened?" he asked, woozy. Before anyone else could answer, the door to the hallway was wrenched right off of its hinges with a loud screech. Another rush of air and Rory felt himself being pulled from one soft pad to another.
"Sam?" he asked, opening his eyes again and trying to regain his bearings. "Sam, what happened?"
"That's what I want to know. Sebastian, what did you do to him?" Sam demanded.
"I didn't do anything. He did it all on his own," the sheriff answered.
Sam helped Rory to stand, the boy holding himself up against the wall. Another rush of air and when he opened his eyes again, Sam had Sebastian by the throat, up against another wall, his fangs extended and anger in his eyes.
"Don't fuck with me, Sebastian! What did you do to him!?" Sam hissed. Rory blinked his eyes and suddenly it was Sam who was against the wall, Sebastian grasping him by the neck.
"I told you, I did nothing to him. He was reading that human over there and his hands started glowing and then he screamed and shot backwards like he was put in a slingshot. If I hadn't have caught him, he would have been splattered on the wall," Sebastian said coldly. He released his hand and let Sam drop to the floor. Sam began to rise, his eyes still filled with rage.
"Oh, no, don't go down there, Sam," Santana said flatly, coming lazily down the stairs. She looked toward her maker. "I tried to stop him, but he overpowered me," she said sarcastically.
"Santana, now is not the time!" Sebastian shouted.
"Stop it!" Rory cried out, closing his eyes to stop the vertigo. "All of ye', stop it. I'm fine. Sebastian caught me before I got hurt. It wasn't his fault," he said quietly.
Sam appeared before Rory, a blur that moved under Sebastian's arm and across the floor. He was standing with the boy, keeping him steady, "If he didn't do anything, then what happened?"
"I don't know, really," the boy replied. "I was trying to get inside his head, and it was blocked so I kept digging and digging, and then me hands felt hot and I felt sick and me head hurt worse than anything else in the world, and then I was flying and falling."
"Come on, we're leaving. This wouldn't have happened if we hadn't gotten involved with Sebastian," Sam said, cutting his eyes over at the sheriff.
Rory was hesitant, however. "Wait. I... I want t'try again," he said quietly.
"Try again? But look what happened, what if it happens again, or worse?" Sam asked, worried. He put his arms around the boy protectively.
The teen gave a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Just let me try. I 'ave to know what happened just now."
Sebastian smirked. "Looks like you have no choice but to let him," he taunted Sam. "Let him work his magic and see for yourself."
Rory left Sam's arms and ambled over to Eric hanging on the girder, the boy having calmed down immensely. He was awake, but he was no longer struggling. As before, Rory lifted his hands and placed them on either side of Eric's head, and began to concentrate.
Without the captive struggling, Rory was able to catch his gaze, but found nothing there. His eyes were there, but nothing was behind them. He was blank. So Rory closed his eyes, and started to concentrate harder, returning to the image of a clay wall. The pieces he had chipped away were still gone, but he had more to go. His mind dug in, clawing at the mineral, tiny bits of the boy's mind finally chipping away to open up.
In reality, Rory had no idea what kind of effects this could be having on the prisoner. The clay was merely a mental picture he himself created to visualize what he was doing, but for all he knew, he was literally tearing away at Eric's mind piece by piece.
His hands began to feel hot again, his fingertips tingling with heat. His head began to hurt again, the pain more intense than before. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and trickled down, tickling his neck. His entire body felt abuzz, a steady hum in his ears, Sam's voice barely audible.
"-op!... -et go!... -ry!... -top! -top! Stop!" Sam's voice finally cut through the din, breaking his concentration. He stumbled backward, but not like before. He felt dizzy and off-kilter, his head still aching. He felt strong arms behind him, holding him steady. "Okay, you're done. No more. We're leaving," Sam said firmly.
"At least now you have seen for yourself that I did nothing to him. Whatever it was, it came from him. Now you can stop with the false accusations and foolish threats," Sebastian said triumphantly.
Sam looked back at his sheriff and glared coldly. "Goodbye, Sebastian. This is over, got it?" The older vampire smirked as Sam helped his wobbly boyfriend up the stairs and out of the door.
Santana sauntered up to her maker.. "What happened? I could hear weird noises all the way up there, and then Sam freaked out and came down here," Santana asked, hiding her genuine concern. She poked at the prisoner as she walked by, scoffing at the smell of body odor.
"I'm not sure, but you should have seen it the first time. His hands were glowing bright yellow and whatever he was doing sent him flying backward. It was much more intense than what we just witnessed a moment ago. There is definitely way more to that boy than I thought at first. The mind reading was one thing, but this glowing effect is definitely something new."
Santana was still poking at the boy on the girder, noticing a strange texture to his body. It felt smooth but firm. She then took a glance at his head and gasped lightly. "Look at this! It's like his head was singed!"
Sebastian shoved her aside and peered at the boy's head. Sure enough, on each side of his head where Rory had been touching him, his face looked burnt. He poked at it with his fingertip to find it sunk in slightly, as if the flesh were made of some sort of clay. His finger left an indent where he touched the skin.
"Well look at that. He was melting the bastard. Just like a wax dummy," Sebastian said, fascinated. He pressed in on the temple a bit more, and when he pulled his finger away this time, it tore off some of the skin as well, eliciting a loud moan from the victim.
"Gross," the sheriff commented, flinging the flesh from his finger. "I wonder what would have happened if he held on longer. Seems like he can't, though. He tried twice and neither time did he finish whatever he was actually trying to do."
"I'm guessing it's going to be much harder to get him to come back here now that Sam has taken him away," the woman remarked.
"I will get him back when I need him." Sebastian smirked and turned around, looking over at the other prisoners. They had settled down, but if they didn't get treatment for whatever seemed to have afflicted them, they would most likely remain insane forever.