England
Jesse stared down at the two bodies on the forest floor with a heavy sigh. He'd wasted two cigars on this godforsaken chase and was contemplating lighting up a third. "Eh, screw it." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a loose cigar and slipping it between his lips, patting his pockets for his matchbook. "Aw, hell! Musta dropped it," he muttered, settling for using his zippo.
Plumes of smoke escaped his nostrils and lips while he sat and thought to himself how he'd gotten himself into this situation. Why all of a sudden did he feel empathetic toward this vamp over the hundreds he'd slain? Because he still seemed somewhat… human?
Christ.
Did this guy even have any sort of identification on him? He was rushed to the hospital, and they clearly left him to fend for himself once they figured out what he was. He pat down his pants, looking for a wallet or something that would at least tell his name. He was unlucky in finding a wallet but remembered he could get the information he needed from the band on his wrist.
He took a drag from his cigar, tapping the ash from it before lifting the vamp's wrist and taking a look. "Takahashi Kenzo, huh? What kinda guy were you before all this?"
But the more important question was: what was he going to do next? He didn't want to just kill him and be done with it; it felt wrong for some reason. He also couldn't leave him to his own devices and risk someone else meeting the same fate as this poor dead bastard.
Speaking of, what should he do with the body? It wasn't really his problem, but he didn't want to just leave it there. Especially not after Ken gave him such a teary goodbye, but damned if he didn't have a shovel. "What to do, what to do…" He stood, looking around for a ditch of some sort. It would only be a matter of time before someone unsuspecting stumbled upon him, and he needed to be long gone before that happened.
He located a rather large bush deeper into the woods, thinking that would have to do for the time being as he dragged the unfortunate soul through the branches. Why was he doing this again? The question kept popping into his mind, thinking he was absolutely insane for considering helping a vampire. He could get his license revoked! He did his best to lay the body to rest and cover it properly with branches, brushing the dirt from his clothes and hands.
Turning back to the unconscious vamp a handful of yards ahead, he wondered what to do with him. The best and only option that came to mind was to keep an eye on him until he woke up so they could have a decent conversation. He strolled over, standing over him and getting a good look. He had an intricate tattoo that covered the entirety of his left arm and half of his chest, but because it was covered in blood, he couldn't tell what it was.
The question already crossed his mind, what type of guy was he before all this? He didn't know many Asian men with tattoos of this caliber, so it only led him to believe he was perhaps in a gang of some sort. But in this day and age, he couldn't make assumptions.
"Welp," he said to himself as he did the only reasonable thing and hoisted the vamp up and over his shoulder with a grunt and started his walk through the woods. "You're a hefty thing, aren't ya?" He thought about heading back to the main street, but he didn't want anyone to stop and ask him questions or give him weird looks. He used his free hand to dig his phone out of his pocket to check his maps application to see if there was any place nearby where they could crash for the night.
He lugged his body through the darkness, thankful there was an inn nearby about a mile up the way. Using the flashlight on his phone, he navigated through the brush as best he could, wishing he had one of those strap-on head lights. Maybe he could find some new gear to purchase after he was done with his business in London.
He let the thoughts of his current actions take him all the way to the inn, pushing the door open with a pant. This guy was heavy! He must have worked out in his free time or something because he was solid! He approached the desk, ignoring the look of confusion slash disgust on the clerk's face. "I need a room for the night. Can ya help me out?"
The clerk didn't even know what to say to the sight before him! This man looked like one of those American cowboys from Western movies he used to watch as a child with his parents, and he didn't know they were real! Not to even mention the bloody body he had thrown over his shoulder! It wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen these days, but it was definitely up there on the list! "Erm… is he alive?"
"Let's keep my business mine and yours, yours," Jesse said, hoping that would be the end of it. "Now, can ya help me, or not?"
With further inspection, the clerk saw the soft rise and fall of the muscles in the man in question's back and felt a little better about giving this guy a room. He pulled up a few web pages, checking availability. "We've got a few rooms left. Two beds?"
"Nah. One's fine." Jesse didn't plan on sleeping that night. He had a lot of figuring out to do, and the faster he thought of something, the sooner he could get back home to his cabin.
"That'll be one hundred and eighteen pounds even, sir," the clerk said, motioning toward the credit card reader.
"Do y'all take universal currency?" Jesse asked, digging his wallet out of his back pocket.
"Unfortunately, no sir, we don't," the clerk apologized. "Our system is a little older than most. Apologies."
"No worries. Take cash?" He pulled crisp bills out of his wallet, satisfied when the clerk nodded. "Keep the change," was what he said, but the serious look in his face was to warn that kid to keep quiet about what he just saw. He slid the cash toward him in exchange for the room key.
"Uh, thank you, sir," the clerk looked at the healthy wad of cash in his hand, knowing his silence was being bought, but he didn't have to worry. He was bound to see a few weird things working at an inn on the outskirts of the forest. "Room seven, to the left and down the hallway."
"Thank ya kindly," Jesse said, about to walk off when he remembered he didn't have the tools needed to apprehend this vamp. He had some rope back in his hotel room, but he didn't think he'd be holding a vamp hostage! "By the way," he tapped his fingers on the desk, getting the clerk's attention. "Ya wouldn't happen to have any spare rope, would ya?"
The man's eyes grew wide, was he planning to tie that guy up? Was he some sort of ragamuffin that was causing trouble? Judging by the way he was covered in blood, there was a high possibility that was the case. His mind started to wander and jump to conclusions, what if that guy was a vampire? No, the cowboy was too calm for that… unless he was a hunter? "R-Rope?"
"C'mon, now, I don't have all day!" Jesse harped. His shoulder was starting to hurt, and this guy was acting like he couldn't hear! "Got any rope, or not?"
"Uh, um," the clerk stuttered, looking around for the maintenance cart. "I think we do, but I'll have to find some. Can I bring it to your room?"
"Tch," Jesse sucked his teeth. "Just knock and leave it at the door," he said, walking off to his room. He couldn't wait to get out of that backward-ass country and get back to his home to rest up for a while. He'd been in England for almost a month, and he wasn't looking forward to all the dust that would be sure to greet him.
He shoved the key into the lock and kicked his door open, flipping the light switch and stepping inside. "Home sweet home," he muttered, dropping the body onto the mattress with a sigh. Now that he had a good look at him, he was a mess. It was obvious he was a newbie vamp with how sloppy his work was; he'd seen vamps drain humans without spilling a single drop!
He took off his hat and jacket, frowning at the amount of blood that had gotten on it as well as the rest of his clothes. It was a shame he wasn't at his hotel in Buckhurst Hill; he wouldn't even be able to take a proper shower without all of his stuff! "What the hell am I even doin' here?" He asked himself, walking to the bathroom to clean himself up as best he could.
He finished scrubbing his face with that cheap motel soap and looked up at himself in the mirror, exhaling deeply. He should clean Ken up, shouldn't he? It wouldn't be right to go through the trouble of bringing him here to leave him a mess, would it? Though, no matter how intriguing he was, he was still a vamp, so he shouldn't get too lax about it.
He found some spare towels and washcloths before hearing a knock on the door; that must have been the rope he requested. He hurried over to the door, flinging it open and catching the clerk before he walked away. "Hey, thanks for that," he said, unhooking the rope from the door handle. "Ya wouldn't happen to have a large bowl, would ya?"
The clerk stopped and rolled his eyes, goodness, was this guy needy! Although he did see a plastic bowl in the closet when he was looking for rope, so he supposed it wouldn't be a hassle to get it for him. What was he going to use it for? He turned, seeing the cowboy hanging out of the room, his white shirt stained with blood. "Yes, sir. I will bring it to you right away. Would you like for me to leave that at the door as well?"
"You catch on quick. Thanks," Jesse said, retreating into his room and closing the door. "Now, let's get'cha cleaned up." He grabbed a few wet rags and went back to the bed, scolding himself for not putting the vamp on the small couch instead. Where was he going to rest? Surely, not on that cheap piece of furniture. Well, it wasn't like it mattered, anyhow. He wasn't dumb enough to sleep around a vamp, unconscious and tied up or not. Maybe he'd check the site for any jobs nearby he could take in the upcoming weeks.
Or… he could just call it quits and head back home to the States. He'd been away from home far too long, and he missed sunlight. Apparently, it was a rarity in England, and it was beginning to affect his mood! He did his best to wipe down his new friend Ken while he thought about what his next move would be. If he really wanted to make some money, he should take a trip to China; there was no shortage of vamps there. But did he want to spend his time in a country where he didn't know the language?
Another knock sounded on the door and he got up and answered it, not even bothering to acknowledge or thank the clerk before shutting the door in his face. He was a little annoying and he'd never see him again after he checked out in the morning. He filled the bowl with warm water and brought it back to the bed, finally able to clean him up a little better.
As he cleaned his chest and arms, he got a good look at his tattoo. He wiped all the blood and dirt away, getting closer to peer at the artwork. It was of two dragons, coiling up his well-defined arm and stopping on his broad chest, surrounded by a navy blue haze and golden symbols. "Mighty fine piece of work," he quipped to himself, moving to work on the other side of him.
How was he supposed to report this back? He couldn't very well say he left him alive. Maybe he could say he got away? Some of them could be slippery, so it was a believable lie. It only brought him back to questioning himself as to why he spared him in the first place!
He used a fresh washcloth to clean his face, floored at how chiseled and sharp his facial structure was. He wasn't a bad-looking guy by any stretch of the imagination, and he wondered if he had a wife and kids in his normal life. "Well, my friend," he said, drying him off and putting the bowl of water on the dresser, too lazy to take it back to the bathroom. "Your old life is over."
He took off his holster, putting it on the dresser next to the bowl, and grabbed the rope. Should he even tie him up? He just fed, so he wasn't really a threat, however… the crazy bastard did jump the gun and try to kill himself. Better safe than sorry.
He rolled him over so that he was lying on his stomach, admiring how toned he was. He was a man who clearly took care of his body he thought as he secured his wrists behind his back. What would he even say to him when he woke up? That he spared him because he showed empathy? Because he thought he was a little cute? How asinine.
After he was satisfied with his work, he got comfortable on the couch and pulled out his phone, conjuring up a fake report about the vamp in his possession. And since it didn't take him very long, he ended up putting his feet up and watching cable television on the cheap box TV that was still alive and kicking. Times like these, he was lucky to have been through sleepless nights in his youth; it only made simple ones like these easier.
Try as he might, but he had to take a catnap or two. He wasn't the young, sprightly man he used to be in his twenties. He was woken by the sliver of sunlight that poured through the dusty brown curtains, jerking up in a hurry and glancing at the vamp on the bed. Thankfully, he was still unconscious, but that sedative only lasted so long; he'd be up any minute.
He stood and stretched, wondering if he had time to get a quick bite to eat but quickly decided against it when he heard rustling coming from the bed. "Wakin' up, are ya?" He said, heading over to the counter to drink some tap water. Oh, how he wished he was back in his cabin, drinking his spring water and enjoying a cigar in the rocking chair on his porch.
He supposed the hard couch in this musty hotel would work for now.
Hanzo rolled onto his side, why was it that he wasn't able to get comfortable? It was as if he were tied up! However, he couldn't really think straight with the piercing headache he was sporting. Wait a minute, where was he? What was going on? Why did he have the horrible feeling that he'd done something irreversible? And why was he having such a hard time fully waking up? Had he been drugged?
Memories started to flood his brain, the guy he assassinated during his last job and the awful illness he'd come down with afterward, the weird, empty emergency room… the guy he brutally murdered with a rock and selfishly sucked dry. He even remembered the hunter who approached him and stopped him from killing himself. Why on earth would he do such a thing?!
He groaned, slowly coming to his senses. It was becoming clearer that his wrists were bound behind his back, and… was he smelling smoke? His eyes shot open, greeted with a dull, off-white wall. Was he in a hotel room? He rolled onto his back awkwardly, sitting up with great effort. He was completely drained. What kind of tranquilizer was he injected with? It was awful!
"Finally up, huh?"
His attention was drawn to the couch on the other side of the room and settled on a shaggy-looking American man in a cowboy hat and a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. That explained the smell of smoke. Although he was still out of it, he recognized him as the hunter who found him and by the looks of it, cleaned him up, too.
"Still a man of few words, I see," Jesse ashed his cigar in the glass of water next to him. He couldn't find an ashtray, and it didn't occur to him that it may have been a non-smoking room, but he truly didn't care. All he was interested in was the sulky vamp in front of him. Did he even know where he was? Did he remember anything?
"Why have you not killed me yet?"
His voice was low and grave, but it was enough for Jesse to hear. "Straight to the point, huh?" He blew out a plume of smoke before putting it out completely. "I just wanted to have a little chat, is all."
"What could you possibly have to say to me? After what I have done, why am I still breathing?"
"No need to be so defensive," Jesse didn't really know the answer to that, either. It was a question he continuously asked himself throughout the night and came up short. He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "Just thought I'd help you out since ya sent that guy off so nicely."
Hanzo frowned, reliving the event unwillingly. "If you truly wanted to help me, you would have just put a bullet in my head and called it done."
"After such an empathetic display, how could I?" This was also new. He hadn't detained a vamp before, but with all the encounters he had with them, he'd never once come across one who showed such deep regret like this one.
So, this hunter spared him because he showed a little bit of humanness? He shook his head. "Fool."
"You're tellin' me my act of kindness was a foolish thing to do?" Jesse asked, a hint of amusement to his tone. "Y'know, I've been tellin' myself the same thing."
"Yet I still live," Hanzo complained, noticing his revolver sitting on the dresser. Perhaps he could convince him to untie him so he can end it himself.
"Not even a 'thank you' or nothin' for carryin' you through the woods and getting' ya all cleaned up? Maybe I am the fool." Jesse said with a fake pout, wanting to get a reaction out of him.
A faint shade of pink landed on Hanzo's cheeks; he hadn't considered that at all! While he was going on about needing to die for what he'd become, he didn't even stop to think that a hunter had gone through the trouble to save him, or… whatever this convoluted version of "saving" was. "Th-Thank you," he said, averting his eyes. "But… why?"
Jesse paused, not expecting someone so defensive to apologize so easily, and even less expecting him to look damn good saying it! This was going to be a problem! He leaned back, stretching his arms across the back of the couch and putting an ankle on his knee. "Let's just say... I think you're interesting."
Hanzo let his mouth fall open in astonishment. "You, a hunter, spared me, an unholy creature, because you think I'm interesting?"
"I know, crazy, right?" Jesse smirked, adjusting his hat.
Hanzo let his words sit with him for a bit. No one that knew of him or his background thought he was "interesting" or worth sparing. It was clear this guy had no clue who he was before all this, and it was sort of nice to be seen in a fresh view. "You do not have to leave me tied up. I will not hurt you."
"Can't take any chances just yet," Jesse said. "Let's just talk first. You an' me."
"There is nothing to be said," Hanzo replied coldly.
"C'mon, Ken," Jesse knew it would be a little challenging to get this one to talk, but he had a feeling it would be worth it. "Don't be like that."
Hanzo looked over at the annoyingly attractive man, wondering just how much he knew. "How do you know my name?"
"It's on your wristband."
Oh. Hanzo had forgotten all about the wristband from his trip to the emergency room. It made sense he'd look at it to get his name. "I see."
"So, Kenzo Takahashi," Jesse sat up again, feeling like he'd made a little progress. "Or should I say Takahashi Kenzo? Where you from? Name sounds Japanese."
Hanzo was surprised; most Americans didn't know or even try to differentiate the names or bother to say the surname first, not to mention even asking what the proper way was! However… "That is not my name."
"Oh," Jesse didn't think it too weird for someone to use an alias with all the secret professions there were, and if he thought about it, it was clear this guy wasn't from these parts, so a fake name may have been necessary. "Then what should I call ya?"
Hanzo thought to himself. How likely was it that this American knew who he was? His family was well known, but they've since been disbanded and it's been over twenty years since the Shimada clan was active. On another note, how much did that actually matter when he was what he was now? Could he even go back to his normal life? How much had changed aside from his genetics?
"If ya don't tell me your name, I'll just hafta call ya Ken 'til ya do," Jesse got up and sat on the edge of the bed, and as he expected, his new friend wasn't visibly bothered. "So…"
"Please," Hanzo detested small talk! Whatever it was he wanted to say, he should just get it over with! "No small talk."
"How else am I supposed to get to know ya?"
"Are you insane?" Hanzo looked at the man, who was as serious as a heart attack! "I'm…!" He faltered, realizing he hadn't even had the time to come to terms with the reality of his situation. He lowered his head, ashamed. "I'm a monster. There is no world where you and I coexist."
"I wouldn't be so sure 'bout that," Jesse wondered if he should just untie him as he requested. He wasn't malicious, and the more he spoke, the more he got the feeling that he didn't have many friends before this. He didn't see a ring on his finger and he wasn't going on about leaving anyone behind like some did. Perhaps he was a lone wolf?
"Let's start with this," Jesse took his hat off and put it on the bed next to him before turning and facing his new friend with an extended hand. "Name's Jesse. Nice to meet ya."
Hanzo looked at his hand in distaste. How the hell did he expect him to shake his hand if it was bound behind him? He grunted.
"Oh, that's right," Jesse snickered. A beer sounded good right about then! "Should I untie ya?"
"It would be the best option," Hanzo hoped he didn't sound desperate in his response. "If it is your life you are worried about, then you have nothing to fear. I have no intentions of hurting you."
"What if ya run off?" Jesse leaned in, invading his personal space. "I don't wanna hafta chase ya down again."
Hanzo turned a shade darker, why was he so close to him? "I won't run."
"Promise?" Jesse grinned at him. Boy, did he get cuter with every reaction!
Hanzo glared at him. Why was he messing with him? "What reason would I have to lie?"
Jesse stared him down as he contemplated giving him back his mobility. The risk of him attacking him or someone else was low, and he seemed truthful when he said he wouldn't run. "Tell me your name first."
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Hanzo wasn't sure why he was so adamant about getting to know him when he planned on dying soon. It would be a waste of time.
"It's only fair that ya tell me your name since I told you mine," Jesse crooned, leaning in closer and reaching around him to undo the rope. What was he doing? Was he planning on keeping this vamp as a pet, or something? He wasn't thinking straight.
Hanzo froze in place as the man named Jesse invaded his bubble. Why didn't he just go behind him and untie him? He caught a whiff of his musk mixed with the smell of smoke and closed his eyes. It was the first time in a while he'd felt so… "You may call me Hanzo," he forced out, feeling the gradual relief on his wrists.
"Hanzo," Jesse repeated, freeing him from captivity and watching his interesting tattoo move with every flex of his muscles. "Suits ya."
Hanzo raised his arms above his head and rolled his neck while he stretched. It was nice to be mobile again. Now, he just needed to wait for an opening. But more than that, he wanted to know why this guy was being so nice to him. The hunters he'd met in the past weren't nice, they were ruthless killing machines with only money on the brain.
Realistically, how different were they?
"What's on yer mind, Han?" As reluctant and quiet as he was, Jesse was still able to read him pretty well.
"It's nothing," Hanzo adjusted himself so that he was sitting on his knees, much more comfortable than sitting with his legs extended. "Thank you for untying me."
"Sure thing," Jesse put his hat back on and stood up, noticing how proper he looked sitting like that. He was making it really hard to figure things out! "Hey so, uh," he began. "I assume ya have some family or loved ones yer gonna wanna contact, erm…"
"Family," Hanzo scoffed. "What is the true meaning of family?"
So, he was carrying some deep family trauma. Wasn't everyone? "So, no wife or kids or anything?"
"Nothing of the sort." Hanzo didn't live a life suitable enough to date or marry. Living as an assassin, he was sure to have a lot of bad karma following him, so it was best he kept to himself. Along with that, with the burden he carried, he didn't deserve happiness of that caliber. He didn't even deserve to live, and he was finally given an out, a chance to atone for his sins, but this… this… buffoon robbed him of that freedom! "Why does it matter to you? Are you planning on holding me hostage?"
Well, he couldn't just let him roam freely, and he sure as hell didn't want to kill him, so that left him in a pickle. It was a good thing he didn't have any ties to sever; it made things a little easier. "I wouldn't call it that…"
"Then what is it that you want from me?!" Hanzo unintentionally snapped, looking up at Jesse. He had on a white tee shirt that was stained with blood, and it was neatly tucked into a pair of snugly fit blue jeans. It infuriated him to no end that he found such a harsh-looking man to be so attractive. Death had never been more appealing.
"Let's just say… I wanna offer you a fresh start," Jesse blurted out without thinking. What the hell was he doing?
"What are you saying? Have you lost your mind?" Hanzo couldn't believe what he was hearing! Was he really thinking of setting him free? What if he hurt another innocent soul? "What kind of sick game is this?"
"No games, I promise," Jesse noticed the fear in his voice and wondered if it had something to do with not wanting to give in to his desires again. What an interesting man. "I wanna bring ya back to the States with me and show ya life ain't so bad."
"You are insane," Hanzo shook his head at his foolishness. "Why would you let me be free? I would rather die than…"
"Don't worry yer pretty little head 'bout any of that," Jesse said with a smile. "I'll keep ya right by my side and make sure nothin' like that happens."
A hunter. Why was a hunter trying so hard to save him? And why wasn't he repulsed by the idea? He didn't understand. "And what would happen if I were to attack you? You are putting yourself at risk!"
Jesse sat back down on the couch and got comfortable. He was confident by now that he wasn't going to try anything crazy and just wanted to break the ice. "Like I said," he winked at him. "Don't worry yer pretty little head. I'll take good care of ya."
This was it! This was his moment! Hanzo glanced at the gun that was still sitting on the dresser, assuming it was filled with silver bullets. The very thing that would grant him freedom. "What a foolish thing to say."
"I mean it," Jesse kicked himself internally. What the hell was he doing? He couldn't ask himself enough! Was he trying to get his license revoked?! But… he couldn't stop himself. Before he could say anything else, Hanzo swiftly lunged toward the dresser and fumbled for the gun.
Of course, he would.
"Oh, no ya don't!" Jesse shot up just as quickly and was wrestling him for his fully loaded revolver. He understood having some regrets, but to go to these lengths?! "Would ya cut it out before ya hurt someone?"
"Can't you see I'm trying to hurt myself?" Hanzo grunted out, fighting him for the gun. This guy was stronger than he expected! He yanked his arms back, bumping into the bowl of water and spilling it all over himself and on the carpet.
"Aw, hell!" Jesse exclaimed, his shirt was soaked! But it was good enough of a distraction to apprehend Hanzo and wrestle him down to the bed. He pinned his arms behind his back with one hand and emptied the revolver with the other, bullets falling to the mattress. "Don't make me tie you up again," he said, appreciating the muscles in his back.
"This is absurd! Let me go!" Hanzo thrashed, somehow flinging Jesse to the side and reaching for the gun, frowning at the bullets on the bed. Not thinking clearly, he clumsily handled them, trying to slip them back into the revolver when Jesse tackled him down.
"Are ya tryin' to make me tranq ya again?" Jesse had him on his back, pinned underneath him with his wrists in his grip above his head. "Why're ya bein' like this, Han?!"
Hanzo struggled to push him off, what kind of things did Americans eat to make them so strong?! "I must pay for what I have done…!" He said, trying to repeat his earlier move and thrash beneath him, but for naught. "I need to atone for my sins!"
Jesse only grew more curious as Han showed deep pain. This was more than that guy he killed the night prior! As much as the rational side of him kept telling him to kill the vamp, the kindheartedness in him wouldn't let him do it. It was clear this guy needed a helping hand and had never received one, and Jesse wanted to be the one to offer it. He didn't want to hurt anyone, and he seemed more human than vampire. There was no way he was letting him go so easily!
"So, please," Hanzo fought back frustrated and angry tears while this beast of a man held him down. "Let me up so I can free myself from the shackles of burden."
"Han…" Jesse nearly broke down at how sad he was. What kind of life did he live before this? What kind of burdens did he carry? Without thinking, he let one of his wrists go and cupped his cheek, a thumb wiping away the solitary tear rolling down the side of his face.
Hanzo let his tears fall freely, all the emotions he tried to repress being brought out of him by Jesse's kindness. He didn't understand why he was being so nice to him, he didn't understand why he wanted him to live so desperately. He wanted him to run away to the States with him and start fresh? It was foolish and cowardly, but… it didn't sound half bad. Had someone in his life ever shown him this sort of warmth, he might not have turned out to be the callous man that he was.
He looked up at the concerned hunter staring down at him, had he accidentally gotten him wet, too? His shirt was soaked and clinging to him, and it left nothing to the imagination! He let his eyes wander, deciding to scold himself later for indulging in such thoughts. He was broad and strong, and it wouldn't surprise him if he had admirers everywhere he went… if they were into cowboys.
Jesse let his other wrist go as he saw his defiance vanish and sat up, not even realizing he was straddling his thighs questionably. He was so sulky! "Are ya usually this sad all the time?"
As soon as their eyes met, Hanzo looked away. He no longer had the will to kill himself, but he still felt that painful emptiness that he carried he wasn't sure he could fill. "There is nothing in my life worth being happy about."
"Well, that can't be true," Jesse said, not bothering to get up. "I'm sure—"
"There is nothing!" Hanzo cut him off. "I have done nothing to deserve any extent of happiness or kindness." He lie there in defeat with no will to do anything.
"C'mon, it can't be that bad," Jesse scoffed, wondering what it was he was so regretful about.
"You know nothing," aside from being a cold assassin, Hanzo had committed an act toward a family member he cared about that he could never take back or forget, and it was largely for that reason why he was the way he was. It was something he never spoke up to anyone about, and this hooligan wasn't about to be the first!
"Listen," Jesse finally got up and sat on the bed next to him. "We've all done some things we ain't proud of, but that don't mean ya hafta die for it... Assumin' this goes deeper than killin' that innocent man last night."
"I assure you, he isn't the only one that has perished by my hands," Hanzo was suddenly cold, Jesse's weight lifted from him and replaced with his usual, soul-crushing internal pain.
That was unexpected, but fitting for his personality. So, he had some blood on his hands. So did he and the thousands of other hunters out there. "A hunter?" Jesse asked, an eyebrow raised.
"No," Hanzo shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. The thought of any of his countless victims being innocent crossed his mind several times before, but it wasn't his duty to figure out if they were worthy of death or not. His job was to end them, with no questions asked, as he was paid to do. "An assassin."
"I can see it. That explains the alias," Jesse said, falling back onto the mattress next to him and imagining him slicing through his opponents with a fancy sword. "We ain't so different, you an' I."
"I suppose," Hanzo sighed. Having someone reach out to him like this was a foreign feeling, but it felt nice.
"Your last job…" Jesse would like to say he could connect the dots and figure out what happened, but he didn't want to make any assumptions.
"Tch." Hanzo felt sick just thinking about it! "I found his mannerisms strange, but I thought nothing of it until I woke up, abandoned in the hospital." He recalled how he was contained like a lab rat, and how awful he felt for becoming such scum.
Jesse wondered how things would have turned out if he'd found him in the emergency room instead of in the woods. Would he still have spared him? Would he still have shown the same humanness that he'd been showing this entire time?
"I had my reservations about hunting such vile beings," Hanzo let the words spill out of him, as he found Jesse easy to talk to. "To put oneself at risk for little to no reward was not something I wished to come to terms with. However," he paused, looking over at the handsome cowboy lying next to him. "I consider what you do honorable. What I do," he looked away again. "What I've done… taking the lives of those who probably didn't deserve it is not something I would consider honorable."
It was Jesse's turn to look over at the fascinating man as he told him things he probably hadn't told anyone before. He reached around, patting the bed looking for his hand and encasing it in his.
"You hunters," Hanzo's face warmed as he retracted his hand on impulse, not used to physical touch. "You protect those who cannot protect themselves, whereas I…" He wasn't sure why all these feelings were getting dredged up, but it felt good getting them out. "I am sorry. I do not know what's come over me."
"Hey, now," Jesse faced him, propping himself up with an elbow. "This is a safe space. We've all got our skeletons. Who am I to judge?"
Hanzo met his gaze. How different would his life be if he'd met him when he was younger? If he could have gotten all this out years ago, maybe he wouldn't be so unhappy. "Jesse, I am not a good person. I do not deserve your generosity. I will only hurt you in the end." Whether it be physically or emotionally, he firmly believed indulging in this… this extraordinarily kind being would only get them both hurt in the long run.
"You let me be the judge of that," Jesse sat up, helping him sit up with him. "It seems t'me that ya don't have much of anyone to talk to, an' if that ain't a terrible way to live."
"I am used to it." It was the truth. For many years, he'd kept to himself, not bothering to make any friends or build relationships. He felt it all pointless and believed everyone would eventually leave him in the end, anyway. Why put himself through that?
Maybe, just maybe he would allow one exception.
"Trust me," Jesse flashed him his best smile, amused at how shy he got. "Stick with me, an' I'll see to it that ya never hurt another human being ever again."
"Hmph!" Hanzo turned away, unable to ignore his incessant flirting any longer! Was he getting some sort of thrill out of messing with him like this? "And how do you expect to do that?"
"This old man's still gotta few tricks left," Jesse picked up his hat and put it on Hanzo, snickering at the scowl he was given. "I understand ya wanna make up for what you've done, but there's much better ways than tryin' ta off yourself! Let me show ya the greener side of life. Whaddya say?"
Hanzo sat in silence, pondering long and hard while the rim of that ridiculous hat obscured half of his vision. It was clear to him Jesse was not going to kill him, nor would he allow him to kill himself. He wasn't going to let him roam free, which was a good thing. Even if he did decide to let him do so, how could he continue living his life as if nothing had changed? Eventually, he'd need to… eat again and he'd rather burn than go through that experience another time! He no longer had the will to be an assassin anymore, as that would only lump him in with the rest of the creatures that harmed the innocent.
Following Jesse around like a lost puppy sounded far more appealing than any of those options. At least he'd have someone to talk to.
As bad as he was trying to convince himself it was, a large part of him wanted this fresh start. He couldn't erase the things he'd done, but he could work toward bettering himself for now and for the future. If this man told him he'd be able to live normally without having to hurt anyone, he'd trust him. He'd trust him only because he was the first person to ever reach out to him. He looked up at an expectant face, and with great hesitation, he'd come to a decision. "…your home in America, what is it like?"
Jesse grinned, having needed this victory. He grabbed his hands in excitement. "I gotta nice little cabin in the mountains. You're gonna love it. Nice an' secluded, surrounded by nature an' wildlife."
"You make it sound so… nice," Hanzo said quietly, unsure of how to respond to his actions. Why was he so excited to have a vampire by his side as a hunter? Why was he so fixated on saving him?
Why did he like it?
"And you promise I won't feel the urge to…?" Hanzo could never say it aloud, but Jesse was smart enough to know what he meant.
"You have my word."
USA
Present day
Hanzo lugged a dead deer up the grass, leaving it in the front yard for now. He couldn't leave it out too long before skinning it and aging the meat, but he was just so exhausted, he wanted to lie down for a bit. He walked up the path that led up the porch and to their front door, pushing it open and stepping inside.
"How'd it go, honey bee?" Jesse asked from his chair at the table, looking up from his paper. "Catch us somethin' tasty?"
"It is hot," Hanzo complained, wiping sweat from his brow and hanging his bow up in its designated spot on the wall. He walked over to the fridge and grabbed the first bottle of water he saw and chugged it.
Jesse got up and turned the fan on before walking up to him and hugging him from behind. He glanced through the window, looking at the fresh kill. That was a big one. "Want me to take care of it?"
"Yes, please," Hanzo wiped the water from his mouth. Why was he so thirsty? Was it time for his injection? "I do not have the energy."
"Lemme take a look at'cha," Jesse spun him around and put a hand on his forehead. He was warm, but he'd spent some time outside hunting. He held his face and looked into his eyes. They were a little hazy, but could be easily mistaken for fatigue. "How ya feelin', Han?"
"Aside from tired?" Hanzo stood there as Jesse checked him out, taking the opportunity to do the same as he relished in the coolness of his prosthetic hand. Why was his shirt so tight? Not that he was complaining. "Are you wearing my shirt?"
"Oh, this ol' thing?" Jesse laughed at his little mishap earlier, letting his hands fall to his shoulders. "I spilled some coffee not too long ago, an' all my clothes are dryin' on the line. What? Don't like it?"
"It is tight," Hanzo's eyes were glued to the chest in front of him, secretly wishing the thin fabric clinging on for dear life would tear.
"I see you checkin' me out, pumpkin," Jesse held his chin and kissed him, his other arm snaking around his torso and pulling him closer.
"Jesse," Hanzo put his hands on his chest, pushing him away halfheartedly. He was always weak when it came to him. "I am tired."
"I hear ya," Jesse wrapped him in an embrace, rocking him side to side. "I hear ya."
"Do you think it is time for my medicine?" Hanzo could probably answer that question himself, but he liked the reassurance from Jesse. He'd taken such good care of him and treated him so nicely for so long, he'd trust anything he said.
"We've only got one vial left," Jesse said into his neck. "If ya wanna take it early, that's fine with me."
"Will the next shipment arrive in time?" Hanzo eventually returned the embrace, closing his eyes and enjoying his musk.
"As luck would have it, I'm due to go into town an' pick it up in a few days. Wanna come with?" He pulled away and chuckled at his groan of displeasure. "C'mon, it'll be nice! We can even go to a hot spring and unwind."
Hanzo liked the safe, isolated space they created and didn't really care for the general population, but a visit to the springs sounded nice. "Fine. For now, I wish to lay down."
Jesse walked him over to their bed and laid him down before aiming the fan at him. "Want me to lay down with ya?"
"You and I both know I won't get any rest if you join me," Hanzo said just as Jesse's work phone started ringing. What now?
"Hold that thought, honeybee," Jesse picked his phone up and raised a brow at the unknown number. "Yellow," he drawled. Guess it was time for work.
Hanzo lifted his head as it sounded like Jesse was talking to someone he knew. He couldn't hear the other half of the conversation, but it seemed like they wanted to meet up with him.
"It's been a while!"
Hanzo watched him sit back down at the table and kick his feet up. Who was this person for him to be so familiar with them?
"I think I can spare some time for ya," Jesse said, pulling out a cigar and patting his pockets for his matches.
Spare some time? What on earth was he talking about? Spare time for who? Hanzo sat up fully, staring daggers into the back of Jesse's head.
"I was hopin' you would say that!" Jesse leaned back in his chair, striking a match and lighting his cigar.
Hanzo frowned, that only meant he would have to work soon, and he typically stayed behind while he was out. With the weird way he was feeling, he didn't want to be left alone! He didn't trust himself!
"Guess yer gonna hafta come visit an' find out," Jesse said with a chuckle, blowing his smoke toward the window.
Ugh. Was he inviting someone to their home? In the nearly six years they'd been together, they'd never had anyone in their home. He felt it was an unspoken rule between the two of them, now he was breaking it? He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, standing next to him with an unpleasant look on his face.
"'Bout an hour from Durango," Jesse noticed Han standing next to him, face painted with his usual scowl. He held his phone up with his shoulder and pulled him into his space. "Yep. I'll tell ya where to go."
Either he was inviting someone to their home, or he was going out to meet them. Either way, Hanzo didn't like it! He shifted in his hold, crossing his arms and waiting for him to finish his conversation.
"Alright, then. See ya in a few days," Jesse said before hanging up and looking at a particularly bothered Han.
"Who was that?" Hanzo couldn't stop the petty question from leaving his mouth, and he didn't care! Jesse seemed a little too friendly with whoever that was!
"Just an old friend of mine reachin' out," Jesse put his cigar down and hugged his midsection, the side of his face pressed against his abs. "She wants to catch up and possibly offer me a job."
"She?"
"It's nothin' like that, honey bun," Jesse thought the slightly possessive side of him was adorable. He always tried to hide it, but it never went well when he did. "Ya have nothin' to worry about. I'm all yers."
"When are you meeting?" Hanzo ignored his comments, only focused on the inevitable reunion between him and this mystery woman. What kind of history did they have?
"She'll be here in a few days," Jesse replied, wondering if he should reveal the true nature of their past relationship. It would only cause Han unnecessary worry, but he wanted to be as transparent as possible to avoid any miscommunication.
"Traveling?"
"Yeah, she's finishing up a job in another state and'll be comin' here right after," Jesse explained, just knowing his mind was running a million miles a minute.
"You are bringing her to our home?" Hanzo said, his voice full of disgust.
"Now, why would I go and do somethin' silly like that? This is our space," Jesse reassured him. "An' I know you don't like havin' people in our space. I'm gonna meet her in town somewhere."
"And this woman," Hanzo couldn't help it! "What was the nature of your relationship?"
"Oh, honeysuckle," damn it! Jesse was hoping he had a few minutes before he had to come clean!
"Why are you hesitating?" Hanzo had now known and spent time with Jesse long enough to learn almost everything it was to know about him, so it was easy to tell when he was keeping something from him.
"Like I said," Jesse took his hands and looked up at him, pulling him down onto his lap. "I'm all yers, an' that's the only thing that should matter."
"That is not what I asked," Hanzo held his face and made him look him in the eye.
"Aw, hell," Jesse sighed, knowing there was no way around it. "She's someone I used to mess around with back when we were younger, nothin' serious."
"And she wants to meet up with you?" Hanzo was suspicious. What did she want? "I am going with you."
"Han, you should know firsthand that ain't a wise idea," Jesse shook his head. "She's a hunter, y'know."
"I am aware, and I am not worried."
As promised over half a decade ago, Jesse kept his word and Hanzo never once felt the urge to feed or showed any signs of being something unholy. He wasn't sure what the medication he injected himself with every month was composed of, nor did he know where he obtained it, he only cared that it kept him healthy and sane and left it at that. With that being said, he could walk around freely without anyone knowing what he was, so that woman being a hunter was of no concern to him.
"Yeah," Jesse replied. "But I am. That woman's sharper than most, an' I don't wanna take any chances."
Hanzo didn't like the fact that he complimented her! However, he wasn't a moody teenager, so he'd keep his opinions to himself. "Very well," was what he said, but it definitely wasn't what he meant! He'd see for himself the reality of the situation!
Keeping a low profile was his strong suit.