THE MUSICAL VAMPIRE MYSTERIES OF RORY FLANAGAN
Author's Notes: I don't really have anything interesting to say here this time. :p Just cater to my deflated ego and leave me reviews. ^_^
Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 8: I Plead Insanity
The Lima Bean was much more crowded than usual thanks to the promise of live entertainment. Mercedes and Kurt were feeling overwhelmed already with the influx of drink and food orders, and still more people were coming in. Tina and Rory were joined by Blaine, Kurt's boyfriend, who offered to assist in waiting tables. Brittany was showing up later on to help too, Rory having invited her to come as a way to get her mind off of the tragedy of her family's deaths.
"I would be happy to assist in any way I can," Sam offered Tina as she ducked behind the counter to pull out more ketchup.
"No way! You're a guest, you're supposed to enjoy yourself!" she replied. "Now go on, go mingle and as soon as we can afford a break, I'll let Rory take a short breather." She motioned her hands in a 'go away' gesture before scooting past him with her condiment bottle.
Tina may have suggested he go mingle, but that was the last thing Sam was comfortable with. All of the people he knew were behind the counters or weaving through the crowd taking orders, and of those people only his boyfriend and the young Asian woman treated him with any semblance of decency.
"I see you put in an appearance," came the smooth, condescending voice of Sebastian Smythe as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere behind the blonde vampire. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and smiled. "I heard this was the place to be tonight. I couldn't help but see what all the fuss was about."
Sam shrugged off Sebastian's hand as he rolled his eyes. "More like you just wanted to come watch Rory running around, portraying the role of servant," he said coldly. He started to walk away when the ever-familiar tone of his least favorite sheriff's progeny piped up.
"Don't be so bitter, Samuel. We came for the entertainment, just like you," Santana cooed with her sarcastic flavor. "We can't help it if the working boy is an added bonus." The corner of her mouth turned up in an almost hateful grin, her eyebrow rising as if to challenge him.
"Some day Santana…" the blonde trailed off, glaring at her. "Just wait. Someone is gonna knock that smirk and attitude right out of you, and I want to be there to watch." He grinned back at her arrogantly.
Santana rolled her eyes. "I think I'll go find a human to swoon over me. After all, once the music begins, I'll need a dance partner." She gave Sam one last look of disapproval before sauntering off in the direction of several jocks.
"Not dancing with your little temptress?" Sam asked snidely.
"I don't dance, Samuel. Not to 'pop' music. Slow dancing is more my style," Sebastian replied matter-of-factly. "I'd be happy to share one with you later," he added slyly. Despite their rocky 'friendship', Sebastian still found Sam attractive and was more than willing to take any available opportunity to get close to his body.
"No thanks," Sam said flatly. Sam wasn't sure if the offer was genuine or merely the sheriff being snarky, but either way he had no desire to so much as touch him, let alone dance with him. Sam intended to dance only with one person, and that was Rory.
The two men stood in silence as Mike dimmed the lights and took center stage. He held a microphone in his hand and wore a wide smile on his face. "Welcome, everyone, to the first live performance at the Lima Bean!" he announced. The crowed cheered loudly, Mike having to wave his hands to quiet them back down.
Rachel sauntered on stage next to him, wearing a form-fitting, knee-length dress that accentuated every curve of her body. She was slim, and her chest was nothing impressive, but she had a certain aura about her that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Her long brown hair hung down in ringlets, her face adorned with classy makeup. When she smiled, her pearly white teeth glistened in the light.
"I would like to introduce the talented young woman who not only will be performing, but also inspired this entire event! If it hadn't been for her, this entire evening wouldn't be taking place," Mike declared, motioning toward Rachel. "Without further ado, I present Miss Rachel Berry!"
The captive audience cheered, despite having no previous knowledge of who Rachel Berry even was, nor what she planned to sing. She took the microphone from her host and scanned the room with her eyes. "I'm so excited to be here tonight!" she exclaimed. "I hope everyone enjoys what I've prepared for you all," she added.
The music began to play as the woman looked out to the curious audience with bright eyes, drawing in every bit of their attention.
-ooo-
As Tina promised, the moment they slowed down enough, she gave Rory his break time. The teen took off his waiter's apron and trotted up to his boyfriend, a goofy grin across his face.
"How do ye' like the music? Isn't she great?" he asked, sliding his fingers between Sam's.
"She's very talented," the vampire replied. "Care to dance?"
"I'm not very good…" the boy admitted with a blush. Sam's mouth turned up in a faint smile as he took Rory's hands and placed one on his waist and the other over his shoulder. Sam did the same on opposite sides so that they were holding each other.
"It's a slow song, so you don't have to do a whole lot except sway back and forth. It's really just about relaxing and gazing into each other's eyes," the blonde explained.
Without hesitation, Rory stared right into Sam's emerald eyes, locked in their shine. Fellow teens and young adults around them were dancing as well, with various combinations of men and women. There was no differentiation between gay and straight as friends danced with friends, straight men danced with straight men, lesbians danced with gay men, it was simply a time to enjoy the beautiful singing that flowed from Rachel Berry's lungs. It was unusual for Lima to be so liberal in this manner, but Rachel's voice could be having some sort of effect on the humans.
"Sam?"
"Yes?" They were still staring into each other's eyes, but Rory broke the gaze, his eyes wandering around behind Sam, and to the sides.
"Look. E'eryone's stopped moving," the teen replied. They too stopped dancing and began to observe the scene. Not only had everyone stopped dancing, but they had stopped moving altogether. They were like statues; locked in whatever position they had been in when their bodies halted in place.
Mercedes, Kurt, and Blaine were amongst the immobilized crowd. Rory stepped up to Blaine, who had a tray in his hand. He pressed a fingertip against the other man's cheek, feeling warmth. He was still alive, but it was as if he was frozen in time.
"What's going on?" Tina's softer voice demanded as she looked around the room. "Everyone just stopped."
Mike pushed in the register tray and stepped out into the lobby. "No, not everyone. Look, Tina. Sam and Rory, Sebastian and Santana. They're not stuck. They're moving like normal."
"Hey, anyone got any clue what's happening?" Sam called out. "They're all alive, but it's like they were just… paralyzed."
Sebastian sauntered up to his comrades, Santana close behind. "This doesn't look good. I gather it's a spell of some kind, but it appears to only work on humans. Observe—the only ones not affected are of the supernatural variety. Vampires, shifters, leprechauns." He nodded his head toward Mike and Tina, as well as toward Sam and Rory.
"Did you notice the singing stopped too?" Santana pointed out. "The thing is, I don't see her, that Rachel woman. It's like she just disappeared right with her voice."
All of the other moving people immediately turned their attention to the empty stage. Indeed, Rachel Berry was nowhere to be seen.
A shrill noise that was so loud that several glasses behind the bar shattered all at once resonated within the building. The six movers all fell to their knees, holding their ears to block out the sound. It rang like a scream.
When the painful noise stopped, and they were all able to focus again, they were greeted by a new host. It was Rachel Berry, except she looked different. Her hair was much longer and wilder, her skin paler, somewhat jaundiced. Her veins were faintly visible beneath her skin, her eyes surrounded by dark circles, giving them a sunken in appearance. Her lips were tinted black, her fingernails the same color. Her clothes had been replaced with a translucent black dress, revealing beneath it her shapely yet ghostly body.
"It seems my spell hasn't worked on quite everyone," Rachel observed, annoyed. "That can only mean one thing."
"What?!" Sam cried out, standing back up.
"That you are some other mythological being. A vampire perhaps? Werewolf? Or even… yes… my… leprechaun," she cooed, resting her gaze on the kneeling teenager at Sam's side. "Yes, just what I've been searching for. I knew you were here. I could sense you. The rest of you are cold, or smell like beasts."
Rachel stepped down from the stage and walked elegantly across the room until she reached the stunned Rory. He stood up, the woman surveying him with an approving look. He felt her cold fingertips drag across his face the way an affectionate mother would caress her child. He shuddered at her touch and she continued to coo in a strange language.
"Yes, just what I need. A leprechaun. One of the very last of your kind, you know."
"What do ye' want with me?" Rory demanded nervously, his eyes roaming over the creepy woman. "I've done nothing to ye'!"
"Your blood. Every last drop," Rachel whispered in his ear as she leaned up next to him. Without a second thought, Rory channeled his anger at the woman into a very bright blast of golden light. It shot her backward, toward the stage. She crashed into the speakers and the curtain fell on top of her.
Taking advantage of the creature's temporary distraction, Sam grabbed Rory's hand and yanked him toward the door. "Come on! All of you!" Sam ordered as he threw the glass open and charged outside.
"We'll use my vehicle. It's larger and will fit all of us," Sebastian offered. On cue, the locks on the vehicle all clicked, releasing entry. Sebastian and Santana took the front seats, Rory and Sam the middle, and Tina and Mike the back. Without waiting for anyone to fasten their seat belts, Sebastian shifted into reverse, then into gear, driving away at a much faster speed limit than was legally posted.
"Wait! What about Kurt and Mercedes and Blaine!? We can't just leave them!" Rory screamed. "And the other people! She might hurt them! And Brittany! She's on her way now!"
"Simmer him down, Samuel. We can't save them all now. If she gets hold of the boy, who knows what might happen. The way she practically wet herself over him, his blood must be powerful," Sebastian said matter-of-factly. "Besides, she may follow us, leaving the rest of the humans in no danger."
"Ye'r a right bastard!" Rory hissed. Sebastian merely smirked in response.
Sam placed his hand on his boyfriend's clenched fist, drawing his attention away from the sheriff. "I think he's right. I think everyone will be okay. It's you she's after, not them. I promise, as soon as you're safe we'll check on them all. For now, send Brittany a text and tell her not to go anywhere near the Lima Bean."
Rory nodded, accepting Sam's encouragement. He whipped out his phone, quickly typing out a warning to Brittany.
"What was that thing?" Tina asked, her voice shaky. "It was ghastly!"
"Banshee," Rory whispered. "She must 'ave been the banshee, and she's after me."
"After you? Why?" she asked, even more confused. "What did you do?"
Sam grumbled under his breath. "He didn't do anything. He's part leprechaun, and the banshee wants him because of that. She wants his abilities." He gripped the handle of the door so hard that it cracked in his hand. "She wants to kill him for what he is. She wants to steal his life or energy or something! We don't really know!"
Rory reached over and this time placed his hand on Sam's pure-white-knuckled hand and managed to pry it from the handle and lock their fingers together. "Calm down, Sam. I need ye' t'be clear headed."
"He's right. We all need to keep calm, clear heads. Panicking won't help anything at all," Sebastian piped up. He sat in the driver's seat, Santana next to him, her arms folded across her chest as she stared out of the window at the passing scenery, bored and irritated.
"Is there any sign that someone is following us?" Mike asked, looking out of his own window. He cracked it open, trying to listen for telltale sounds of someone in pursuit, but the roar of the wind rushing by was too loud.
"No, I don't think we're being followed," Sebastian replied. "I suggest we go somewhere safe. Either Sam's home, or Scandals," he added evenly.
Rory looked over at Sam nervously. "Let's go t'Sam's. I'd feel more comfortable there," he said. "Is that okay?" he asked, still looking right at his boyfriend.
The blonde vampire nodded, not speaking. At the moment, the only thing keeping him under control was the feeling of his boyfriend's hand in his, the warmth coming from Rory's soft, human flesh. Sam could sense the boy's increased heart rate from heightened nerves and fear.
"I have to make sure everyone is safe, Sebastian," Mike finally spoke up. "These people aren't just hapless victims. They're friends, classmates, co-workers! These are innocent people. We can't leave them to die!"
"I said we're seeking safety for ourselves. Those humans can't help us and we can't help them," the sheriff announced coldly.
Mike lost his composure, finally giving Sebastian a piece of his mind. "Look, you selfish fuck! These people are important to me, to all of us, so you're going to take us back there to protect as many people as we can, you got it?!" he shouted angrily. Tina reached up and put her hand on his arm.
"Calm down, Mike. Let's at least get Rory to safety, then we can go back and help everyone else," the woman said. "Please, cool off."
Mike gritted his teeth and recomposed himself in his seat. Tina was the only person in the world who could appeal to his better senses and she was surely abusing that ability right at the moment.
"Sebastian, please, take us back when we've dropped off Rory and Sam. You don't have to stay, just take us back," Tina begged. The sheriff huffed an agreement, eliciting more eye-rolling from his progeny.
The group rode in silence the rest of the way to Sam's home, too scared, too tired, or too uncertain of what to say. The tension was thick enough to slice with a blade. When Sebastian finally pulled into Sam's driveway, everyone got out of the car, the breeze sending chills over their skin despite the warm weather of the Ohio summer.
Stepping inside, Santana looked around disapprovingly. "So this is where the great Samuel Evans sleeps, showers, and brushes his fangs," she said thickly, her eyes wandering. "Unimpressive."
Sam was too frustrated at the moment to retort, but that didn't mean Rory was going to let her comment go without defense.
"Anyone e'er tell ye' just how rude ye' are?" the teen announced. "Sam invites ye' in here for safety and all ye' can do is insult his home. I happen to like it here, and so does he, and if ye' don't like it, then get out and go back to Scandals and rot."
Tina couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at her young friend's assertiveness. It had been long enough since he had ingested the vampire blood that it was no longer still affecting him—this came from his own anger. She watched with intense interest as she waited for the vampiress to respond. To her disappointment, Santana merely scoffed and rolled her eyes for the millionth time that night.
"Drinks in the kitchen. Food, too. I'll be in the study. I need to think," Sam said flatly, walking toward his office. His young boyfriend followed behind him, pulling the door closed after them. He then walked up behind Sam as he sat at his desk, his human hands massaging the vampire's tense shoulders.
"Sebastian and Santana are goin' with Mike and Tina to check out the situation at the café'. Nobody was answering phones, but I think… I think e'eryone is okay. They'll be back shortly," the teen informed the century-old vampire. "Are ye sure we're safe here?" he then asked timidly.
"For now, yes. I don't know for how long, though," came the broken reply. "I have to protect you. I can't let her hurt you."
Rory dropped his arms across Sam's chest, leaning down so their faces touched. He turned his head and gently pressed his lips against his boyfriend's. When he pulled back, he saw the slight pools of bloody tears forming around the man's eyes.
Embarrassed, Sam turned away, standing up out of Rory's embrace and hiding his face. The teen gave chase and insisted Sam stay still. When he faced him, he saw that indeed the vampire had streaks of blood across his cheeks. He reached forward and wiped the man's eyes, leaving slight red smudges.
"Don't cry, Sam. E'erything will be okay. I trust ye' and I've been practicing with me powers. That banshee won't 'ave an easy time of it. I just need ye' t'be strong. I need ye' t'be strong because…" Rory wrapped his arms around Sam and hugged him tight, mumbling into the vampire's shoulder. He sniffled and unburied his face. "I need ye' t'be strong because I'm scared."
Sam steeled himself, forcing his bloody tears to hold back. Rory was scared, terrified. Sam had to remember that his boyfriend was only sixteen. While he himself had a hundred and fifty-three years on him, Rory was still so young and innocent. He hadn't seen much of the world and suddenly things were toppling end-over-end right in his lap.
"Don't be scared. We'll protect you. And you'll protect yourself. I'm one-seventy. Sebastian's over a thousand, and Santana is enough of a bitch to keep a banshee at bay on her own regardless of her age. We've all got plenty of experience fighting off the enemy. Even your two shifters can hold their own, I'm certain. Then there's you..." Sam paused, pushing the boy back just enough to stare into his eyes, his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Then there's you, a powerful leprechaun-human hybrid. You said you've been practicing, and we're gonna keep practicing. We're going to see just how powerful you are."
Rory's bright blue eyes watered. "Why is this happening? I ne'er did anything t'anyone! E'er! I just want to be happy with me vampire boyfriend and someday be one too," he blurted out.
"Wait, what did you say?" the vampire stopped him, his gaze turning rock hard. "Did you say…?"
"That I want t'be a vampire. Yes. How else will we be t'gether? I'll age and ye' won't. Ye'll 'ave to watch me age and die. I don't-I can't handle that thought!"
"No. We need to discuss this later. Too much going on right now. Let's get through this and then we'll talk about long term," Sam stated firmly. Rory opened his mouth to argue, but Sam stopped him with a finger over his lips. "I said no. Not now. " Rory sighed and let it go. Maybe he was being irrational. He hadn't truly given it the thought that it deserved. He was basically asking Sam to kill him and bring him back, an act that not only required great trust, but also patience and self control. What Rory didn't know was that a newborn vampire would wake with an insatiable hunger, a desire to kill, to destroy. It was up to the vampire to control him or herself and force their humanity to come out. They were almost uncontrollable except by their maker, and even then… Sam would have to explain all of this to him before he could truly entertain the idea.
They stayed in silence for the next two hours, Sam locked in thought as he scoured the internet for more information on banshees. Rory sat in Sam's lap, reading over the information as well.
"Sorry to interrupt," came the smooth voice of Sebastian Smythe. Both boys looked over to see that the older man had entered the study uninvited, his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised as he appraised the scene before him.
"What is it?" Sam asked, forcing himself to maintain a semblance of control. His hatred for Sebastian only increased the more he was around.
"The humans are safe. The banshee was nowhere to be seen, and her spell had worn off. Most of the humans went home, and the ones you call your friends were closing up shop before heading home themselves. They seem to have no memory of being immobilized or that anything was ever wrong at all," the sheriff replied. "And also, I simply wanted to offer a suggestion. Rory should sleep with you," Sebastian added, his lips turning up in a sly grin on one side.
Sam rolled his eyes. "That's none of your business if we've slept together or if we are-"
The sheriff held up his hand. "I don't mean fuck. I mean, sleep together, in your basement. Obviously your coffin won't accommodate a human, so I recommend we move a bed down there. I assume the room is light tight, with locks on the doors so there shouldn't be a problem."
The blonde paused and thought a moment. The idea was definitely enticing. Sleeping next to his boyfriend, waking up beside him, holding him all night.
"Don't give me that dumb look," Sebastian stated sarcastically. "The idea is for him to be safe in his sleep. You'll be right by his side, so should anything happen, you're right there."
"Why do ye' e'en care? Ye' hate Sam, and ye' only seem to want something from me, so what's with all this? Are ye' up to something?" Rory asked accusingly.
The sheriff scoffed. "I'm not up to anything. I do like you, however, and I don't care to see you harmed. If that means working with Sam, then so be it. Whatever it takes for your safety." He reached out and caressed the human's face. The Irishman jerked his head back, reeling at the touch.
"I 'ave to agree the idea does sound logical," Rory stated. "If we could move something down there for me to sleep on, I would feel safer with Sam by me side."
"It's decided then," Sebastian declared. "We'll move a bed into the basement where you can rest safely, behind locked doors, and with Sam at your side." The man didn't wait for a response but turned to leave. "By the way, I'd be careful just how much of your blood you let him take right now. You're gonna need all the energy you have, no time for stupid acts in the whim of sexual ecstasy," he added, not bothering to look back.
"He's a real jerk," Rory muttered, his face turning into a look of distaste. "It's none o' his business what we do t'gether."
Sam didn't say anything but instead took the boy into his arms and held him there, Rory's head on his shoulder, Sam's hand stroking his hair. "Don't pay him any mind. He's simply jealous because he can't have you." Sam paused a moment as a thought came across his mind. "By the way, no matter what, do not drink any of his blood. Ever. Or any other vampire's for that matter."
"Why not?" the teen asked without pulling away. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing as his body felt more and more at ease in the strong arms of his much older lover.
"Because if you drink from a vampire, it forms a link between you. At least it does on normal humans. It may not work on you. I don't care to test it though, do you?"
"No. Not at all. The idea o' being linked to Sebastian in any way is disgusting. The chance o' it working is enough t'ward me off," the teen replied. He exaggerated a shudder to show his disapproval of the idea. "I can't imagine anyone wanting t'be with him without being under some sort o' trance anyway."
Sam chuckled, his face softening. "Apparently Santana enjoys him. Vampires can't glamour each other and she lets him ravage her any chance they get."
Rory turned up his nose in disgust. "She must be the only one then." He exaggerated another shudder before returning to Sam's arms. Both of them laughed lightly at the display. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to forget about the banshee for just a minute. So much had come down on them in the past few hours alone that they needed a break. "What do ye' mean by link anyway?"
"It's hard to explain but it's like a… connection. For example, I can always sense if you're in danger, hurt, ill. I can sense your emotions. It can also include making you very sexually attracted to the vampire you drink from."
"Oh, I'd be sexually attracted to ye' without ye'r blood. I definitely don't wanna think about Sebastian that way though. It'd be like dream rape or something," Rory said, making another exaggerated shudder.
"Knock knock, children," Santana announced sarcastically as she threw open the door. Both men looked over at her unwelcome entry. "They want to get his bedding taken care of," she said, nodding toward the teen and rolling her eyes. "Apparently the shifters want some rest or something too."
"I have extra rooms they may stay in," Sam stated firmly. "As for you and Sebastian, I have no extra arrangements for either of you, so either bury yourselves under the house, or go home for the day."
Santana hissed at him. "You should really watch your mouth, boy! Sebastian insists we help you, which means I have to as well, so the least you can do is pretend to be appreciative before I vomit blood all over your dusty house!" She turned on her heel and marched out of the room angrily. They could hear her yelling loudly at Sebastian about the rude vampire youth and his progeny wannabe. Her voice rose even shriller as she screamed swears in anger. Sebastian had just told her about his intent to stay over day.
"I'm not sure who's worse. Him or her," Rory said with a laugh. "At least he doesn't scream and yell."
The corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a grin. "Good point. I guess I should get to working on housing arrangements. We need to set up sleeping quarters for you downstairs with me. Tina and Mike can settle in the spare room, and as for the vampires…"
"Are ye' really going to make them bury themselves in the ground?" Rory asked skeptically.
Sam laughed. "I should. But no. I don't know if you noticed but the basement has a second section to it. There's a door, so we can still have our privacy. I have a couple of old 'vampire beds' they can use. They'll just have to sleep low class for the day."
"Vampire beds? Coffins. Ye' can say it. Coffin. I know how it works now," the younger teen declared confidently. "We 'ave a banshee trying to kill us. I think I can handle the word 'coffin'."
"Okay, okay. Point taken. Now come on, let's get this stuff sorted so you can get some rest. You need to be in top shape if you have a run in with that banshee," the blonde said, heading toward the still-open door.
-ooo-
The small group decided it would be best if at least one of them 'stood guard' until the next night. Mike offered to take first watch, while the others were given a chance to rest. He tucked Tina into the spare bed, kissing her goodnight before shutting the door and returning to the living room downstairs. Santana sat in the library, browsing Sam's collection of books, rolling her eyes at some of the titles and showing mild interest in others. Sebastian sat next to Mike on the couch, neither man so much as acknowledging the other's existence.
Down in the basement, Rory was getting ready for bed. He was tired but not exhausted. His brain felt more fried than anything else. Sam sat on the edge of the bed, watching as his young boyfriend disrobed, leaving only his boxer shorts on. Sam smiled at the sight, admiring the teen's lithe body and firm rear.
Rory climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his neck. Sam got off the bedside and hovered over him, smiling. "Such a handsome young man. I'm very lucky." The teen blushed at Sam's words. He would never get used to such complimentary speak, particularly from someone who had probably encountered many attractive people in his deathtime.
Sam leaned down to kiss him, but when their lips touched, he felt Rory's hands reach up and pull him down all the way, chest to chest. Sam crawled on top of him, lying atop the comforter with his mouth latched onto the Irish teen's lips. His hands ran up and down the blanket, feeling the growing firmness beneath them.
"Is this really the time?" the vampire asked hesitantly when he broke the kiss.
"I can't think o' any better time. It's the number one stress reliever ye' know," the teen replied with a shameless grin.
The corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a smile. "I can't deny those beautiful blue eyes any desire in the least." He shucked off his clothing in vampire speed, and then crawled under the comforter with his boyfriend, yanking the teen's drawers down and tossing them aside so that their nude bodies were pressed against each other, the pair of them kissing passionately.
Rory's breathing sped up as he struggled to keep up with his boyfriend. Sam's enhanced speed allowed him to touch the teen in so many more ways, his hands running up and down Rory's body, massaging, tweaking, rubbing, playfully scratching the pale flesh. Light moans escaped the teen's lips at the sensations all over his body from one place to the next and back.
Sam stared down into the teen's eyes, green meeting blue and locking in place. He needn't ask the burning question inside him; Rory wanted him, wanted Sam inside of him, filling him with his manhood. Taking the cue from the wide, lustful eyes, Sam bit his own wrist, then slid his hand down, glazing his erection with his blood. He pushed Rory's legs up to his chest, using his slick finger to ready the teen for Sam's admission.
Within minutes, the boy was anxious and practically begging for Sam to mount him. Never one to disappoint, Sam coated himself one more time before placing himself at the tight entrance of his boyfriend. With a firm push, he entered him.
The pain was intense as Rory allowed himself to be breached. It subsided almost instantly, however, an effect of the bloody lubricant. Sam bent down to kiss him as he carefully thrust his hips. Rory's hands clawed at Sam's back while Sam's hand was busy giving attention to Rory's groin.
Sam wasn't quite as gentle as he had been before—this was sex born of urgency. He was still cautious enough not to hurt his boyfriend, but he took advantage of his healing blood and thrust into him harder much sooner than before.
The pair were locked in a rhythm of desire that didn't know time. Neither man knew just how long they were intertwined in passion, but as Rory finally became closer, he made his request.
"Bite me, Sam," Rory breathed quietly into the man's ear. "Take me all the way," he said. Sam hesitated a moment, unsure if he should go through with it. They had done it once already, but he knew Rory needed to be in his best form. The teen assured him it was alright as he pulled Sam's head down toward his shoulder, lining up his neck with the vampire's mouth.
As Sam thrust deeper and faster into the young man, his free hand stroking the teen, the other holding himself in place, he sank his fangs deep into the boy's neck. Rory cried out in temporary pain, his body lighting on fire for just a moment before he felt the erotic helplessness of being taken.
The blonde grunted roughly as he went over the edge, filling up the eager young man. He continued to stroke, coming up from his position of head on shoulder and looking down at the boy. He bit his wrist and pressed it up against Rory's mouth.
"Drink. Drink, and fall apart. It'll be like nothing you've ever felt before," Sam whispered. Rory brought his hands to Sam's wrist, holding it still while he pressed his lips against the wound and began to suck. The taste was just as he remembered it from the night Sam had saved him, and as the blood entered his body, it sent tingles throughout his veins. He felt himself crash down, his orgasm stronger than anything he had ever experienced in his life. He sucked harder and harder still as his body felt paralyzed with pleasure.
When Rory finished his wave, Sam pulled back his wrist. He pressed a finger against Rory's blood-slicked lips, then pressed it against the wounds on the boy's neck. They closed up and healed instantly. Sam then leaned down and kissed him as he collapsed on top of the boy.
"That. Was. The most amazin' thing I e'er felt," Rory announced. "It was like me whole body was alive with, with…"
"With intense, overpowering pleasure," Sam finished for him. "I'm glad I could give that to you." He rolled onto his side and cuddled with the sated boy. "You should get some sleep now. I'll stay here, with you until dawn. I'll have to go to my coffin to rest then." He looked at the forlorn face across from him. "I'm sorry I can't let you wake up next to me, but I'll be here as long as possible."
"I love ye', Sam," the now-sleepy teenager said softly as he allowed his boyfriend to wrap his arms around him in a protective manner.
"I love you, too," the vampire declared, kissing him on the lips before pulling him even closer.
Sebastian descended the rest of the way down the stairs to the basement. In their fervor, neither Sam nor Rory had heard him come in. Undetected, the sheriff had paused halfway down the staircase and couched low so that he could watch as the two boys made love. Even in the near darkness he had been able to see the occasional glint of bright blue eyes—innocent eyes. His erection strained in his pants, begging for attention. He would have to tend to that need later, when Santana came down to join him.
"You have the most beautiful human in your possession, Samuel," Sebastian whispered. Rory had quickly fallen asleep, fortunately unable to hear the much older man declare his presence.
Sam's eyes turned cold as he shifted his head to look at the elder. "How dare you," he hissed quietly, not wanting to wake his partner. "That was a private moment. You had no right to spy on us," he added angrily.
Sebastian grinned mischievously. "I can't help it if I wanted to come down to my quarters and you were in the middle of something. Once I saw him, I had no choice but to observe. It's enough to make my mouth water," he teased.
Sam sucked in a deep breath, his eyes cutting into the older man like daggers. "Don't you ever 'observe' us like that again," he said firmly. "It's one thing to have no respect for my privacy, but you will give him every ounce of respect and decency."
Sebastian threw his head back and laughed. "You're giving me demands? That's rich, Samuel. You're lucky I'm in an amused mood right now. You have balls, I must say. I'll leave your human to his privacy, but I'll say it again. You have the most beautiful creature in your possession."
"He's not a creature; his name is Rory, and I don't own him," Sam said stiffly. "We belong to each other. He is mine and I am his. Now go away before you wake him up."
Sebastian grinned. "As you wish, Samuel." He dropped his face to one of complacency as he strutted toward the door partitioning the basement. Once he was in the room, he summoned his progeny telepathically through their blood bond. He needed release after witnessing one of the most arousing scenes he had seen in a long time.
-ooo-
Rory had no idea what time it was when he finally awoke. The basement was relatively light tight, which was all the more reason why he didn't understand exactly why Sam had to sleep in the coffin.
The coffin. He had yet to actually see Sam sleeping inside of it. The idea was chilling, but at the same time intriguing. What's he look like in there? Is he still breathing; there's no air holes… Does he close his eyes? Is he actually sleeping, or just laying there, still?
These questions roved through his mind one after the other. He wanted to walk up to the case, lift the lid and find out the answers for himself, but he had no idea if something would actually happen to Sam if he did. What if he gets angry with me?
"You're curious, aren't you?" came a quiet voice seemingly out of nowhere. Rory spun around to see the source of the noise: Mike. Rory didn't say anything, he just shifted his eyes from Mike to the coffin and back. "Of course you are. I don't blame you." He stepped forward and stood next to his friend, staring down at the fiberglass casing. "I didn't mean to barge in, by the way. I had orders."
Rory gave him a bewildered look. "Orders? From who?"
The Asian man smiled, putting the boy at ease. "Sam. Before he turned in for the dawn, he came up to see me. We had a decent conversation, actually." He leaned his head back slightly, recalling the exchange. "He asked that when you woke up, that I take you out back, to train."
"To train?" the teen asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. He wants you to keep testing your abilities. To control them," Mike said. He's afraid you might need to fight. He's scared he can't keep you as safe as he needs to, Mike added in his head. There was no way he would voice that to his young friend. It would shake his confidence, and right now he needed it.
Again, Rory didn't speak, just stared down at the coffin. "Do ye' think he's comfortable in there?" he asked, finally looking up at Mike, a worried look on his face.
"Yeah. He's slept like this for over a hundred and fifty years. Trust me, he's cozy."
"Are ye'… are ye' friends now?" Rory asked nervously. He was afraid of what Mike might come back with.
The older boy put his hand on Rory's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I don't know if Sam and I will ever be 'friends' the way you might want us to be. But we are allies. We have the same goal; we'll work together. But something you have to understand is that shifters and vampires don't have the best history together. Wolves, either. It's the way it is I suppose."
"I guess that's better than nothing," the teen said sullenly. "I just wish e'eryone could be friends and get along."
"That's in a perfect world. We don't live there. Right now we simply tolerate each other's existences." Mike watched the boy as he ran his fingertips along the coffin edge. "You're dying to look. It won't hurt him."
Rory looked back up at him with a shocked stare. "I… I don't wanna chance it."
"He'll be fine, I promise. Just lift the lid and take a peek. I'll go back upstairs so you can do it in private even. I want you upstairs in ten minutes though. You gotta get going so we can get started on training," Mike instructed. He smiled, nodded toward the lid, and walked up the stairs.
Rory stared down at the coffin once more. It looked so solid. He really wanted to see, but he didn't want to upset Sam either. He continued to trace his fingers along the edge until he found himself very gently lifting the lid. He opened it about halfway, looking down at his boyfriend in a peaceful slumber.
Sam still looked to be breathing, albeit a lot slower than before. Involuntary habits Sam had said. The man's eyes were closed, his hands clasped on his belly. He looked peaceful. If Rory hadn't known better, he would have thought he was at a wake, observing a corpse prepared for burial. He wanted to reach down and touch him, just to know he was still 'alive'. His hand hovered right over Sam's face, wanting desperately to just stroke his cheek, to brush his fingertips against Sam's thick lips, but fear of waking the man froze his hand in place.
Finally, Rory stepped back and cautiously closed the lid. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, slightly disturbed at what he had just seen. It was one thing to know his boyfriend slept in a coffin during the day, but to actually see him in the coffin, asleep, looking like an exhumed body… it was entirely different. Regretting his spying, he trudged up the stairs and into the main part of the house. It was only Mike and Tina awake, the pair in the kitchen eating cereal.
"You need to eat something before we start. Keep your energy up. Sam told me to put you through the ringer," Mike advised.
"The ringer?" the Irishman replied, confused over yet another American slang phrase.
"Yeah. He means put you through a rigorous training session. A workout," Tina answered. "He wants to make you strong, and we don't have a lot of time. There's no going easy about it," she added.
"So, you need to eat something before we start," Mike repeated, nodding toward the box of Frosted Flakes on the table. Rory shrugged and retrieved a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer, filled the dish up with cereal, and then added milk from the fridge. He hadn't realized how famished he was until he started to eat. Two bowls of Frosted Flakes with milk later, he was ready.
After breakfast, Rory changed into jeans and a t-shirt and met the two shifters in the backyard. Mike had already spray-painted targets on several trees at varying heights.
"Okay, first things first. If you think you might pass out, let us know. We have no idea what extensive use of your abilities will do to you," Mike announced from across the yard. "Second, the colors mean something."
Tina began to point to the different targets. "Red means use the weakest burst you can manage. Try to hit the targets and we'll see what the effect is after." Rory nodded at her, waiting for further instructions. "Yellow means using a stronger blast, but not your strongest. Green means 'go'. That means use the strongest blast you can muster up. We need to see how good your aim is at the varied energy levels."
"That doesn't sound too hard," Rory said with more confidence than he felt. So far he had just focused on trying to get the energy to come forth; he hadn't meddled with aim or intensity. If it worked like it did before, all he had to do was concentrate. This time, he would concentrate on how much power to draw up and exactly where he wanted it to go.
"You ready?" Mike asked. Rory nodded, bringing his hands up in front of himself. He extended his arms and splayed his fingers as he had done before and picked one of the targets. It was red. He took a deep breath and began to concentrate. He imagined his hands heating up as they had before, imagined them starting to glow. Within seconds, his hands really began to warm and gain a yellow-gold aura. He thought about the target, the round dot in the middle. He felt his body react to his visions, his hands going from pale to bright yellow, the heat intensifying, and then feeling a burst of energy leave his fingertips.
The sensation felt strange, as always. It could only be described as feeling like his fingers were leaking. It didn't last long, however, as the sound of splintering wood filled his ears. When the effects stopped, he looked up at the target, bringing his hands down.
There was a dark black burn mark about a foot under the target, several pieces of bark and wood having splintered out from the impact. "Shit," he said under his breath.
"Good try. It was your first attempt. You can't expect to get it right the first time," Tina encouraged, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Try again, for the same one. Just focus a little higher, and see if you can dial down the strength." She tried to think of a way to help him relate his power to something else. "Think of it like throwing a baseball. You don't always want to throw it across the whole field, so you don't put as much force into the throw."
"Ye' know I'm Irish. We don't throw baseballs," the teen replied with a chuckle. Tina blushed at her error, but Rory simply smiled and turned back toward the bruised tree. As before, he held up his hands, concentrated, and this time thought about the dot itself, and only the dot – not the outer rings, not the bark nor the wood – just on the painted circle. He then reflected back to Tina's analogy. Not as much force. Not as much force. Just a little bit. Come on, just a little, he told himself. His hands quivered slightly, the glow not as bright as before. He felt the leaking sensation again, and when it stopped, the dot was gone, replaced with a scorch mark. The bark was still there. He'd managed to hit the target and not blow it up all the way.
"Much better. Ready to up the ante a little bit?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously.
By lunchtime, half of the trees in the backyard had burn marks on them, the other half actually missing bark and chunks of wood. Only two had actually fallen down. Tina was insistent that they not kill any more trees than necessary; come wintertime, the few trees that were downed could be cut into firewood. Sam himself didn't need to worry about temperature, but if Rory intended to spend time there in the cooler months, the fireplace would warm up the home much better than any heating unit.
After lunch there was more practice. This time, the shifters decided to make things a little more mobile. Using a skeet shooter, clay pigeons were launched into the air by Mike. Rory aimed for them, missing the entire first round of five. And the second round. Frustrated, he began to send out a rising shower of sparks into the air, finally hitting a clay disc.
"I think maybe we've had enough for today," Tina suggested, noticing that the teen was not only sweating profusely, but also visibly tired. His eyes were getting droopy, his movements slowing down compared to the more agile dashes of earlier. Suddenly, to her dismay, he started to wobble and tip over. She reached the boy just in time to catch him from falling flat on his face.
"Yeah, that's definitely enough," the woman stated. She knelt down on the ground, taking the tired young man with her. Mike jogged up to join them, crouching down next to them to inspect their charge.
"I think it's catching up with you," the man said, giving Rory a good once over. "I'll help you get cleaned up. You're sweaty and dirty. Sam will pitch a fit if you're in disarray when he wakes up." Mike had meant it to be funny, but it sounded sarcastic.
Tina smiled at him as she helped him to his feet. "You did great today," she said. "I'll get the gun and the leftover discs and fix something to eat. You'll have a hot meal on the table when you come back down."
-ooo-
Rory's energy exercises had taken a bigger toll on his body than he had thought. When they had paused for lunch, he had felt a little weak, but didn't bother to say anything. He now wished he had because the second set had proven to be too much.
Mike pulled the teen's arm around his shoulder, steadying him. They stumbled into the house and up the stairs, a very slow process since each step seemed to require more energy than the one before it.
"Sit down," Mike instructed, pointing to the closed toilet lid. Rory did so, his eyes heavy and his head light. He waited while his friend started the bathwater in the bathroom. Within a few minutes, the tub was full of hot water. "I hope you aren't shy," the man added with a chuckle.
Rory shrugged, allowing Mike to assist him in removing his clothing. Normally he would have been less than thrilled being seen nude by anyone but a doctor or his boyfriend, but having seen Mike in his nakedness already, and being far too worn out to argue, he allowed himself to be undressed and helped into the tub.
The hot water felt good on his tired muscles. He leaned back, resting his head against the edge. He closed his eyes, falling asleep.
Mike scratched his head, contemplating what to do next. He didn't want the boy to feel violated, but he needed a wash, and he was obviously too tired to do it on his own. Sighing, he finally made a command decision.
-ooo-
The Irish teen woke up in the basement on the bed, Sam's coffin next to him, the lid open. He was dressed in a fresh pair of boxer shorts, the comforter pulled up to his neck. If Sam's coffin was open, then he was awake and about.
Rory sat up, stretched, and then got out of bed. Whoever had brought him to the basement had forgotten one little thing—his clothes. He was unconcerned with Mike or Sam seeing him in only his underwear, but he didn't like the idea that Sebastian could see him in so little and undress him with his eyes. He also didn't feel like hearing Santana's inevitable snarky comments about his average body that lacked definition and surely didn't match up to her maker's toned form. The idea that Tina would see him was also not something he was thrilled with, though more out of shyness than fear of judgment.
In an attempt to keep his dignity, he pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around himself, trudging up the stairs and into the house proper. He could hear the television in the living room, but when he peered around the doorframe, he saw only Santana and Sebastian, two people he didn't feel like talking to.
Assuming Sam would be in his study, he shuffled down the hall, across the foyer, and took note of the cracked, open door, light peeking out. He rapped on the door with his knuckle, not wanting to simply barge in.
"Come in," Sam said politely. Upon noticing that his young boyfriend had entered the room, Sam stood up, his eyes suddenly brightening. "Rory!" he exclaimed calmly, walking up to him and taking him in his arms. "I'm glad to see you're up. How do you feel?"
"Tired. I got some rest, but I still feel like I ran a marathon," the teen replied.
"I heard how well you did. You need work on moving targets, but your control is getting better. You've come really far, really fast," Sam said with an air of pride. "You're adapting to your newfound skills a lot better than I did when I first became vampire."
Sam let go of him, stepping back and taking the teen's hands in his own. "I'd be lying, however, if I said I wasn't worried about what this is doing to your body. I fear it might be doing more to you than we can see."
"Ye' mean the tiredness?"
"Yes. The weakness. Passing out. Those aren't good signs at all," the vampire noted. "I wonder if pressing you to train is the best idea. I might be making you damage yourself even more." His eyes darkened with worry, his mouth shifted into a grim frown. "I'd feel a lot better if we knew more about your abilities. Maybe you shouldn't train anymore. Maybe that was enough."
Rory gave him a half-smile and a sigh. "I 'ave to do what I 'ave to do, Sam. We 'ave no choice."
"I've been trying to research, but I'm getting nothing we don't already know. Rory, I want to protect you. I want to keep you safe, so I can have you for as long as possible. Until…" he trailed off, refusing to voice the knowledge that someday he would indeed have to watch his boyfriend die of old age. He knew that even though leprechaun powers apparently included draining life to sustain their own, but he also knew that Rory would never take someone's life willingly.
"That's why ye' should turn me before I get too old," the teen declared. "Ye' make me into a vampire, just like ye', and we can be together fore'er," he added. Sam looked horrified at the suggestion.
"No. I can't do that. I can't just steal your life from you. You don't… you don't know what you're saying. It's not as simple as just a bite and calling it a day. There's more to it, and you have to give up so much, and… No, you're not being turned."
"But—"
"You will not be turned, end of discussion," Sam said harshly. "You will live out your human life by my side, as you should." He turned away, feeling his eyes begin to water with blood.
Rory huffed loudly. "In case ye' hadn't noticed, I'm not human. I'm half leprechaun, and it's me own choice, not ye'rs!"
Sam spun around angrily, grabbing Rory's arms. "Dammit, we aren't discussing this anymore! You stay what you are, and don't think you can go off getting turned by someone else, like Sebastian, because then you're bonded to him until he releases you, which I know for a fact he wouldn't do! You'd be his slave, his toy! You don't know what you're talking about."
The teen pulled back, trying to loose Sam's grip but to no avail. "Ye'r hurting me! Let go!" he shouted.
Embarrassed, Sam let go and turned away, heading toward his desk. He cursed himself for touching him that way, for losing his temper. It wasn't like him, but Rory was so stubborn, insisting on taking this subject further, knowing he didn't understand everything involved with what he was asking. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to act like that. You just don't know all of the details, and now isn't a good time to think about it. I lost my temper. Even vampires can be irrational sometimes."
"Ye' say I don't know what I'm talking about, then tell me. Explain it to me, Sam. Help me understand."
"You would be giving up so much more than you know. There's… there's so much more involved than just a simply action, it's so much more emotional and… just no. Please drop it," Sam begged, his voice laced with sadness.
"We'll talk about this again later," Rory said quietly while he rubbed his upper arms. Sam hadn't bruised him, but he felt an ache where the man's hands had been squeezing. He was far more upset about Sam's refusal to discuss the subject than he was the iron grip. "I'm going to watch TV with the others." Not waiting for a response, he walked out the door, pushing it shut behind him.
Sam watched the door shut, his vision suddenly tinted deep red as the tears welled up in his eyes. He shut his eyes, trying to stop the flow, but it did no good. He plopped down into the nearest chair, leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and held his head in his hands. "Fuck," he swore at himself.
-ooo-
"Lover's quarrel?" Sebastian cooed as the leprechaun entered the living room. Sebastian had a cocky grin on his face, feeling like he had made a victory.
"Shut up, Sebastian," Rory snarled. Since first meeting the sheriff, the teen had gotten over feeling intimidated by the older man. He had power over Sebastian whether the vampire knew it or not. As long as Sebastian gave in to his emotions and desires, Rory would always have the upper hand. It was a tiny fact he took comfort in.
He sat down in the armchair, picking up the remote for the TV and began flipping channels. He wasn't even paying attention to the screen; all he could think about was what had just transpired in the study. Maybe I'm being unreasonable. No, no I'm not. For us to be together, I'll have to change. If I don't, he has to watch me get old and die. After that he'll be alone again. I don't want that. He just doesn't see it from me side.
Lost in thought, he didn't even realize Sebastian had snatched the remote from his hand and was changing the channel back to what he was watching before. "I can't take much more of this. The odd couple, Ozzie and Harriet, bickering like children. Stuck in this dull house with boring company."
"I don't see why we have to stay here. That screeching bitch isn't after us. I want to go home and get out of this hellhole, Sebastian. It's trying my patience," Santana grumbled, cutting her eyes toward Rory. "All this drama is giving me a headache."
"If ye'r so miserable here, then get out. Go. All ye' do is complain," Rory blurted out. His first inclination was to apologize, but the woman didn't deserve an apology. She needed to know about herself. "Go on. Out. Go home!"
Santana's lips turned up into a sarcastic smile. "And he comes out swinging! Little leper got some bite in him," she teased. She then turned her attention to her maker. "Come on, can't we get out of here? Fuck knows what's going on at the bar without us."
"That's a valid point," Sebastian agreed. He stood up, looking down at Rory. "We'd love to thank you for your hospitality," he began with a sneer. "But she's right, we really must go. It's been a pleasure, I'm sure." He gave Rory a once over, obviously imagining the teen without the sheet wrapped around him. In a blur, the two vampires were suddenly gone, leaving the disgruntled teenager sitting alone in the living room, an episode of Matlock playing on the screen of the television.
Frustrated, he stomped back into Sam's study, shutting the door gently behind him. Sam didn't bother to look up from his desk, pretending to be writing on a notepad.
"Sam, I'm sorry," Rory stated. "Now isn't the time for this. We need to focus on now, this screaming demon trying to kill us."
Sam finally looked up, his cheeks stained red where he had been crying and had wiped away the tears. "Agreed," he said simply.
"Please don't be mad. I don't want to fight," the teen said. "Can't we make up?"
The vampire continued to stare at him, their eyes meeting. He stood up, walking toward the boy while never taking his eyes away. He knelt down in front of him, taking Rory's hands in his. "I just don't want you to go through what I did. It was tragic, and I don't want to see you throw away your human life," he said. "We'll look at our options later. Right now, let's get through this. Then I promise we can work on this conversation. Fair?"
Rory smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Fair," he said. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the thick lips of his boyfriend.
"Do you forgive me? For my overreaction? I'm disgusted with myself for touching you that way."
"It's alright, Sam. It's forgotten." The anger and awkwardness was over, replaced by understanding and tranquility.
-ooo-
When the teen and the vampire emerged from the study, Sam noticed that both Sebastian and Santana were gone. Rory hadn't mentioned their departure, but he was relieved to see they were no longer around. Sebastian put him on edge and Santana was just generally unpleasant.
Still worn out from his earlier exertion, Rory ate a sandwich Tina made for him, and then retired to the couch. Sam sat with him, the boy's head in his lap as the elder teen ran his fingers through his boyfriend's dark hair. A late night movie was on—a comedy—something to distract the younger teen from their predicament. He had spent all day training until he had worn himself out. He deserved some relaxation. Some actual relaxation, something fun, and right then, a comedy on TV was going to have to suffice.
As Sam ran his fingers through Rory's hair with one hand and rested the other on his chest, he couldn't help but think about the fact that this boy was so young, only sixteen, and being forced to deal with so much so fast. He had become used to his memory reading abilities, learned to adjust to them, but now he was expanding his powers and learning to use them offensively and defensively, to keep himself safe. Safe from a mythological demon who wanted to suck the life out of him just because he has leprechaun in his bloodline. The banshee had already killed several students and an innocent pair of adults, adults who were important to Rory. Ideally, the teen should be hanging out with his friends, going to the movies, sitting around playing video games, throwing parties, learning to drive, working his part-time job; this boy didn't deserve all this drama and death thrown at him. Sam began to wonder if coming into Rory's life had been a wise move. Would all of this have been avoided if I never set foot in the Lima Bean and started this relationship? Would he have been better off?
As if Rory had heard him, he reached up and grabbed Sam's hand on his chest, interlocking their fingers. He shifted and pulled their hands down across his belly, snuggling up in his boyfriend's arms more securely. No, he wouldn't have been better off. The banshee would have come even if I hadn't been here. The difference is that because I'm here, he has a chance at survival. If it hadn't been for introducing him to Sebastian, he wouldn't have been able to discover his other powers. If I wasn't here, he'd be as good as fodder for that screeching bitch. Yeah, it's good I came to him.
Sam craned his neck around to peer into the open door of his study. Mike and Tina were busy researching how to actually kill a banshee. There were myths galore, but finding ones that agreed upon a method was difficult. It seemed each story had its own mythology about the banshee. One claimed her own scream could kill her, another claimed the vocal cords needed to be removed. One said the only way to kill her was to hack off her head, and yet another suggested placing her into a vacuum so that she had no air, and thus no ability to scream or even breathe. That one seemed the most hokey and unlikely. Hacking off her head sounded like a great idea, since that was a surefire way to kill the majority of the creatures on the planet.
It was around two in the morning when Tina and Mike retired to bed for the night. They were researched out and needed some rest for the next day. Assuming Rory was feeling up to it, they were going to be working on some more exercises, namely defensive maneuvers. Sam couldn't help but wonder who was going to be manning the Lima Bean, but that was honestly none of his concern.
Rory fell asleep in Sam's lap, and was later carried down to the basement and gently laid in the bed. Sam lay with him until dawn, sneaking back into his coffin just as the sun rose. When he moved, the young teen shifted as if he were going to wake. Relieved that he hadn't actually woken him up, Sam pulled the lid shut and closed his eyes.
-ooo-
By the time Mike and Tina left for their shifts around mid-afternoon, Rory was soaking in the bathtub, the water extra hot to ease his aching muscles. He had bruises everywhere, having been assaulted by tennis balls, softballs, and even a Frisbee. The pair of shifters were hoping to get him to form some sort of shield, but the closest he got was a wide arc of light that sent a ball hurling right through one of the upstairs windows. It was all very amateur, but none of them exactly had any past experience with this sort of thing and it was all trial and error. Mostly error, as his purple spots could attest.
The good news about the day's workout was that Rory was noticeably less tired than the day before. They hadn't done quite as much, but even still, he had a lot more energy than before. It wasn't until he settled into the steaming hot water that sleep threatened him.
The teen stayed soaking in the tub for over an hour, the water turning lukewarm and giving him slight chills. He finished washing up, got out, and dried himself. He felt better and had almost a renewed sense of energy. He threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, tied his sneakers on extra tight, and left the house to go for a run.
Before he had left, Mike had given the teen strict instructions not to leave the house. At the very least, he could always take cover in the basement, and Sam could be of help to him as long as the sunlight was kept out. If he left the house, however, he was on his own with no protection. Unfortunately, he was beginning to feel stir crazy already having been stuck in the house and backyard for two days straight and he needed to get rid of some of the excess energy as well.
Rory intended to jog down the driveway until he got to the main road, then run at least a mile before turning back and returning to the house. He wasn't a marathon runner, nor a big exercise buff, so he didn't want to overdo it. He also suffered from shin splints and had no desire to aggravate them from too much running. He latched his iPod to his hip, put in his earphones, and started to jog.
Rory couldn't help but notice as he hit the main road that something seemed a little…off. He took out his earphones and listened to the silence of nature. It occurred to him, however, that when someone was outdoors, there should still be sound. The sound of wind rustling through the branches, birds singing, and bugs chirping. There was none of that; it was silent.
The lack of noise was unsettling. It was foreboding even. Something so out of the ordinary had to be linked to the banshee in some form. It was time to go home, back to Sam, where he was safe.
Just as Rory reached the front porch, he heard an eerie cry in the air. It was shrill and sounded pained and angry. Shivering, even in the heat, the teen bolted inside, locking the door behind him and breathing heavily. He checked his watch. It wasn't quite time for Sam to wake up yet. He decided in the meantime to watch the TV to not only break the silence invading from the outside, but to distract himself until Sam rose for the night. The entire time he sat in front of the television, he could hear the faint squeal of the banshee way off in distance. Every cry sent chills down his spine, but at the same time a pulsing heat to his hands.
-ooo-
By the time Sam woke up, Rory had the volume on the surround sound up to a very high level. It hurt his ears, the noise like someone beating drums right next to his head. He covered his ears with his hands as he walked upstairs, finding the teenager sitting on the couch, staring at the screen.
"Turn it down!" Sam shouted over the slam of the Hulk crashing into a building as he fought with some alien creature. Rory didn't hear him at first, so Sam dashed in front of him, hands still over his ears and shouting. Finally getting the hint, the teen turned the volume down to a moderate level.
"Sorry Sam," Rory apologized, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't know it would hurt ye'r ears like that."
Sam took the remote from him and muted the volume all the way, massaging his temples to ward away a headache. "What's with the home theater? It sounded like a war was going on in here."
"I wanted t'drown it out," the boy replied sheepishly. Sam looked at him, confused. "The banshee. I wanted t'drown it out. I kept hearing her screaming, o'er and o'er again. It kept giving me chills and making me hands warm up. I was afraid I might…"
"Blow up?" the vampire finished for him. The boy nodded, a blush coloring his cheeks.
"Pretty stupid I guess," Rory muttered.
Sam gave him a comforting smile and lifted the teen's chin with his fingertips. "Don't worry about it. I get that you're scared, and you were by yourself. Even I get chills from that demon, and I'm already cold."
Rory couldn't help but laugh at his boyfriend's attempt at comfort. The idea of Sam getting chills was hilarious, since as he pointed out, his body was already cooler than a normal person's, but it was just a reminder that although Sam was a vampire, he still had a sense of fear. It was oddly comforting, knowing that those traces of humanity were still so prevalent in the undead man.
"I wonder how Mike and Tina are doing at work," Rory said. "I wonder if they're okay, if that banshee came back. I'd feel horrible if something happened to them because o' me. Nobody is responding to me text messages or calls. I'm worried."
Sam knew what the pleading look in the teen's eyes meant. Rory wanted him to check on their friends, to make sure they were safe at work. To make sure the banshee was nowhere around. "Stop, please," he begged as the ocean eyes tore at his heartstrings. "I'll go check on them, but stay here. Don't leave for any reason. I'm sure they're fine. Probably just busy and haven't had time to respond."
"Okay, I promise. I just need t'know they aren't in danger. I 'ave some sort of bad feeling," Rory said, his voice laced with worry. Sam smiled at him, kissed him, and then stepped out of the door, running at top vampire speed. He had no desire to leave Rory unattended any longer than he had to.