
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11222388.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Overwatch_(Video_Game)
  Relationship:
      Soldier:_76_|_Jack_Morrison/Reaper_|_Gabriel_Reyes, Jesse_McCree/Hanzo
      Shimada, one-sided_Angela_"Mercy"_Ziegler/Soldier:_76_|_Jack_Morrison
  Character:
      Soldier:_76_|_Jack_Morrison, Reaper_|_Gabriel_Reyes, Jesse_McCree, Angela
      "Mercy"_Ziegler, Hanzo_Shimada, Sombra_(Overwatch), Widowmaker_|_Amélie
      Lacroix, Director_Petras_(Overwatch), Talon_(Overwatch)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Fantasy, Alternate_Universe_-_Vampire, Alternate
      Universe_-_Medieval, Vampire_Reaper_|_Gabriel_Reyes, Vampire_Sombra, Lich
      Widowmaker_|_Amélie_Lacroix, Werewolf_Jesse_McCree, Alternate_Universe_-
      Supernatural_Elements, Dragon_Hanzo_Shimada, Witch_Angela_"Mercy"
      Ziegler, Memory_Alteration, Dream_Sex, Wet_Dream, Pining, Longing, Minor
      Character_Death, Anal_Sex, No_Lube, Barebacking, You_don't_need_lube_when
      it's_dream_sex, medieval_setting, But_also_without_sociopolitical_issues,
      Sombra_is_a_little_shit, Virgin_Soldier:_76_|_Jack_Morrison, Young
      Soldier:_76_|_Jack_Morrison, Age_Difference, Because_Gabe_is_a_vampire,
      Gabe_is_a_very_old_very_strong_vampire, Porn_With_Plot, Porn_with
      Feelings, Loss_of_Virginity, pocket_watch_symbolism, Admiring_from_Afar,
      Witch_Sombra, Implied/Referenced_Underage_Sex, Consensual_Underage_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-17 Updated: 2017-07-27 Chapters: 4/? Words: 10273
****** Watch ******
by CaptainStormChaser
Summary
     Jack's village lives under the “protection” of a vampire, safe from
     invaders and monsters alike so long as they meet the demands given.
     When Gabriel Reyes makes a request that a very specific individual be
     placed in his care, Jack is shut out of his home and trapped in an
     opulent manor surrounded by inhuman creatures. But Reyes himself—Jack
     could swear he's seen his eyes somewhere before. And where are these
     dreams coming from?
     Or, in which a vampire falls in love with a kindhearted village boy
     and is not nearly as edgy as he pretends to be.
***** Chapter One *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jack shot up, hands grasping tightly to the unfamiliar bedsheets as the
nightmare faded from his mind, leaving in its wake only his gasping breaths and
the overwhelming sense of wrongness.
He was nude, he noted with surprise, only a sheet preserving his modesty. Well,
that wasn’t entirely true. Crisp linen bandages were wrapped around his
stomach, dry, weak maroon blossoming from his right side above his hip.
Jack wet his lips and pushed his hair from his forehead, slumping his torso
partially over with a wince of pain. His surroundings were unfamiliar, of an
opulence he’d never witnessed before, even when he’d first been brought into
the home of the mayor only a week prior.
The furnishings were plain, though painstakingly carved from wood that spoke of
an artisan’s touch and countless hours of work. The mattress beneath him was
stuffed with feathers, he realized after a moment of ridiculous rocking around,
not straw. The curtains were parted, a slim stream of orange light telling of
twilight.
Jack sincerely hoped it was actually dawn playing with color, else it meant
he’d lost an entire day.
===============================================================================
ONE DAY AGO
Running. Running. All he was able to do was run, because everything else was a
waste of time that Jack didn’t have.
The town stood at his back, all candles extinguished and fires dimmed, curtains
drawn. If Jack were to look back, he would see nothing. Nothing but the
shadowed outline of his home, doors bolted to him.
How fitting.
He knew Angela would be peering out the window, hoping to catch a last glimpse
of him before he was gone forever. He also knew her parents would be pulling
her from the window, grateful only that their child was not the one chosen.
Jack couldn’t go far, he realized. He had no food, no water, sent off without
so much as a butter knife to defend himself with.
The sun was low in the sky, but not yet hidden by the horizon. Jack still had
time to put some distance between himself and the village before the creature
could begin to hunt.
His only hope then was to find shelter and hide through the night.
Jack paused for a moment to catch his breath, sides cramping and heaving. He
couldn’t stop. Every second was precious. His grandfather’s pocket watch,
gifted to him on his twentieth name day, reminded him of this, steadily over
his racing heart.
Tick, tick, tick.
Jack shook his head to clear it, and started up again. He could hear the gush
of the river, water crashing against the banks. The creature hunted by scent
like a beast, did it not? Jack could cross through it, erase some of the sweat
clinging to his skin.
The water was high this time of year, children carefully herded away from the
banks and shepherded to the millpond by the Widow Elois’s place for their
swimming. Still, Jack didn’t hesitate to step into it, nearly jerking back at
the cold. Steeling himself he walked into the river, feeling the force shove
into him and try to tear him away with the current.
Each step was conscientious, steady, his head tipped back as he reached the
middle to avoid going under.
When Jack reached the far bank, he couldn’t control the shivering in his
muscles, wishing he was under the liberty to light a fire. It would be a while
before his clothes dried out again in the humid summer air.
The cold seeped the strength from his bones, he realized, going forward at a
mere walking pace. All the same, any distance was valuable. Jack had reached a
wooded area by the time the sunlight faded. He needed only find somewhere he
could burrow, a thicket he could cower in like a rabbit until dawn. The idea
made him bristle, but his pride was not worth his life tonight.
A crack made him go rigid. Jack held his breath, eyes darting around
frantically for the source.
A low laughter, echoing through the trees.
Jack ran.
He ignored the ache of his muscles, fueled solely by adrenaline.
His pursuer made no attempt to disguise itself, dogging Jack’s heels.
A stumble devolved into a trip, and Jack hit the ground hard, breath pushed
from his lungs. Pain spread up his side.
Boots crunched and approached him. A hand grasped his shirt collar from the
back, pulling his torso up.
“Sleep.” A smooth voice whispered in his ear, and Jack knew only blackness.
===============================================================================
PRESENT
No, no, no no no no no. Jack had to leave, had to leave immediately. He needed
to arm himself in case it came after him, when it came after him. With no small
amount of difficulty, Jack got to his feet, hand on the bed for support. He
needed clothes, he needed food and water, any money he could find,
Jack was not alone in the room.
A tall woman stood in front of the door, dark hair pulled from her face and a
flat, damask-wrapped box in her hands.
Jack hastened to rip the sheet from the bed to cover himself.
However, her golden eyes seemed uninterested, glazed, as though she were
looking through him. Her eyes weren’t the only thing that struck him as odd;
her skin was alarmingly pale, lips and fingers taking on a bluish hue.
“I will escort you to breakfast.” She told him in monotone. She held the box
forward to him in offering.
Hesitating, Jack moved forward enough to take the box from her grip. He lifted
the lid, finding inside a set of clothes. A silk shirt, a vest of brocade. As
uncomfortably posh as they were, he was grateful to longer be nude. Of course…
“Can you please turn away?” Jack asked the woman. She gave no indication that
he had spoken. “Just while I dress, could you face the wall?”
With what was surely an air of irritation, the pale woman turned around. Still,
Jack kept the sheet up, nearly draped over his shoulders while he stepped into
the crisp trousers, pulled the stockings up.
The buttons of the vest were mother-of-pearl, he noted, the edging done in gold
thread. His grandfather’s pocket watch was in the box as well. Jack had feared
it had been broken when he’d fallen, but faithfully it ticked against his side
when he tucked it into the pocket of the vest.
Jack cleared his throat when he was fully clothed, looking to the woman. “A-am
I to be breakfast, then?” He asked, trying to keep his fear from catching his
words in his throat.
The woman hummed thoughtfully, looking him over. “Not tonight.” She said,
turning to the door and opening it. She beckoned him with a single finger.
“Come.”
Jack followed, eyes darting about the place in wonder and unease. The walls
were papered a somber maroon, candles set into sconces burning. His escort led
him down the hallway, then down a staircase. She stopped beside an open door,
trickles of conversation coming out.
His eyes darting to her cautiously, Jack entered the room. It seemed to be a
parlor of sorts, books lining one wall and plush sofas and elegant tables
arranged around the room, the entire west wall made up of tall windows of
smooth glass that showed the grounds and the setting sun. A pair of men sat at
one table, their conversation halting when Jack entered.
One was hairy and wild-looking, beard unkempt. Jack had slaughtered pigs
before, seen their hearts and kidneys and lungs. On the man’s otherwise
pristine porcelain plate, a larger version of a sow’s heart sat, half missing
and fork and knife bloodied.
The man’s companion was immaculate in dress and grooming, black hair tied back
and clothes smooth. The second man’s eyes were sharp, following Jack as though
he were a curiosity for only a few moments. This man’s plate bore only a few
biscuits, a cup of tea held in midair as though preparing to take a drink
before interrupted.
“It is rude to stare, Jesse.”
Jack nearly leapt out of his skin as the voice of the pale woman sounded scant
inches away from him, her footsteps silent as she passed him and set a serving
tray on one of the unoccupied tables.
The hairy man laughed. “Well shit Amélie, we don’t exactly get new additions
every day.” He took the teacup from his companion’s hand, ignoring the venomous
glare he was shot and the serpentine hiss as he drained it. “‘Specially not
live ones.” He tacked on as an afterthought, making Jack wonder with a trill of
fear just exactly what he was sharing the parlor with.
The woman, Amélie, pulled out the chair before the tray, gesturing for Jack to
sit. Seeing little room to argue, Jack took the seat and watched as she placed
a plate with two rolls cut open and held back together with jam atop it in
front of him. “Do not act as though you did not know he was coming.” Amélie
chided. “Gabriel has spent the decade preparing and fussing.”
Jesse gave a wolfish grin in response, turning back to his companion. “Been too
busy to notice.”
“Or thick-headed.” The thus-far silent man remarked.
“Now I know that’s not the thick part of me ya like, darlin’.”
“Get a room.” A new voice said. “Don’t need you clawing at the door tomorrow
like a bitch in heat again, McCree.” A young woman, one side of her head shorn
short and eyes not unaccustomed to mischief. Said eyes fell on Amélie.
“Zombie.” She greeted.
“Witch.” Amélie shot back, not bothering to glance up from pouring tea. She
slid the cup in front of Jack.
The newcomer’s gaze settled on Jack. “So this is Gabbi’s new pet.” She took the
seat across from Jack, grin malicious as he squirmed under her watch. “He’s
pretty.” She commented.
Jack found his voice. “I’m not-”
“He’s scared shitless!” She exclaimed with delight.
“Virgin too.” Jesse added helpfully, tapping the side of his nose. His next
bite of heart made a wet noise as he chewed.
A flush climbed Jack’s neck, and the girl began to laugh at him.
“Ignore the buffoons, Jack.” Amélie advised. “Eat.”
No longer caring if or how she knew his name, Jack ate.
===============================================================================
TWO DAYS AGO
A figure sat beside him beneath the ridge, untying her handkerchief to present
an apple, a wedge of cheese, and a heel of bread.
Jack pared the apple while Angela divided the bread and cheese, as they had
always done.
But things were no longer as they always were, the tension hanging over them
like a stifling blanket on a hot summer night, the risk of the sharp and
lingering bites of insects enough to make the blanket seem preferable to clear
air.
It was Angela who spoke. Always the braver of the two of them, whatever she
might claim.
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
Jack nodded solemnly. “It’s for the best.” He answered blankly, the mantra that
he had used to push himself this far.
“No it’s not.” His friend insisted. If he turned his head, he knew he would see
the color begin to rise in her cheeks as it always did when she was frustrated.
“I can talk to my parents, we can shelter you,”
“You know as well as I do that it would only get you killed. If I go willingly,
everyone else will be safe. I have to do this.”
The silence dragged out between them. Angela leaned to the side, resting her
head on Jack’s shoulder, her side pressing Jack’s grandfather’s pocket watch
tightly to his chest.
Tick, tick, tick.
“Just… don’t do anything foolish, Jack. Promise me.”
Jack looked at Angela. He could see where her hair had started to fall from its
neat knot, the concern in her eyes. Too old for her age, nearly five years
younger than Jack.
Part of Jack ached to make a quip, to assume normalcy. But that wasn’t what
Angela needed. Instead he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I promise.”
===============================================================================
PRESENT
The night passed much like that, with Amélie guiding Jack through the manor,
showing him the rooms.
“You will not get far if you run.” She’d told him, when she showed him the
front doors. “Gabriel will only bring you back.”
“Where is Gabriel?” Jack asked. “If he wanted me here so badly, shouldn’t he
have killed me by now?” Honestly, it was the waiting that wore on Jack’s
nerves. For weeks, ever since the mayor had summoned him and his parents, Jack
had been dreading coming face to face with the beast that lurked on the edges
of the valley. The devourer of souls. The capricious guardian and undisputed
ruler of the village.
The vampire.
===============================================================================
ONE WEEK AGO
Jack tugged at the cuff of his stiff sleeve, trying to make it come farther
down his wrist. His father’s old shirt fit him poorly, but it was the nicest
thing he had to wear.
His mother put her hand on his arm. She gave him a small smile. The Morrisons
had never been asked to see the mayor before. That he had asked for the son,
barely a man, spoke either dauntingly or very well.
Mayor Petras had not looked at Jack since the three had filed into his office,
merely offered them seats and wine.
“Perhaps this is a matter best discussed without your son present.” Petras had
said.
Jack’s father had narrowed his eyes. “You called us here to talk about Jack. He
should hear it too.”
Mayor Petras cleared his throat uncomfortably. “As you know, I must handle all
requests of the creature.” These were few and far between. Besides the curfew
in the nights bracketing the full moon and the supply wagons regularly coming
through, it was easy to believe the monster off in his manor was merely a
children’s story. “It wants… your son.”
Jack stared straight ahead at the mayor. He could hear his mother and father
protesting, arguing, pleading.
He could recall the bandits who’d come through the village when he was a boy.
Several homes had been burned, horses and supplies stolen, four people killed.
He could recall the night after they’d left, their screams echoing through the
valley and stopping a young boy from sleeping a wink as he clutched into his
mother’s skirts.
He could recall the dawn that followed, the whole town awaking to the sight of
the stolen goods and animals scattered haphazardly about the square, the total
count of thieves uncertain for how mutilated the bodies were, staining the
earth red.
A request came from the manor that same morning for a good bottle of wine and a
half-pound of lye.
A wave of its hand, and the creature would obliterate the village.
Tick, tick, tick.
Jack looked up, cutting off whatever his father had been saying.
“I’ll do it.”
===============================================================================
PRESENT
It was surreal, in truth. Were he not grounded by the unfaltering ticking at
his side, Jack would almost think this were a fevered delusion.
“He is in his study.” Amélie said. “He waits for you to come to him.”
Jack nearly scoffed at the idea. “He honestly thinks I’ll come to him to die?”
“Non.” Amélie said, effectively ending the conversation.
After a solitary dinner, Amélie returned him to the room he’d awoken in.
She bade him to remove his shirt that she might see his wound.
Jack turned his head away as she removed the bandages, washing dried blood from
the wound and wrapping it once more.
When she left him, it was past dawn. Try as he might, Jack couldn’t help but
fall asleep, even through the daylight.
Chapter End Notes
     I love Overwatch.
     I'd love to play it some day.
     As always, leave a comment and tell me what you thought. Find me at
     a-sad-little-biscuit.tumblr.com
***** Chapter Two *****
Chapter Summary
     Explicit content ahead.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
A soft set of footsteps on the floor was what stirred Jack from sleep, the sky
dotted with the weak light of stars and the lambent gleam of the moon. Strange,
as he had gone to sleep at sunrise. He had thought Amélie would again wake him
at the first sign of gloaming.
Jack felt no fear as the figure approached his bedside, nor felt any pain when
he sat up.
The figure stilled at the side of the bed. In the light, Jack could see his
features.
He was bare, and handsome. Face dappled with scars, bristly facial hair honed
to give texture to his chin and mouth. His eyes were warm and eerily familiar.
The man caught his hand, and Jack realized he had reached out without noticing.
The man smiled, showing white teeth. He raised Jack’s hand, pressing his lips
to the knuckles.
“Mi sol,” he purred, kissing the inside of Jack’s wrist. “Don’t tempt me like
this. Not when you’re so close.”
Jack found his mouth dry when he tried to answer, having to swallow and wet his
lips. “I want you.” He whispered hoarsely, scarcely recognizing his own voice.
“Please.”
“I know.” The man said. “But not until you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.” Jack said firmly, trying to pull the man closer.
“Do you even know who I am?” Amusement in those eyes, but also sadness.
“Yes.”
A low chuckle. Jack quickly decided he liked it. He wanted to submerge himself
in the rumbling sound, to breathe and bathe in it while laying abed in beams
sunlight turned red by the horizon.
“Who?”
Jack parted his lips to answer, finding the answer failing him. “Please,” he
repeated instead.
The man sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. A jerk of Jack’s arm, and he
had the man atop him.
Jack kissed him.
His lips were warm, soft, heartbeat pulsing through them. A moment of being
surprised at himself, and Jack moved his lips, nipping at the man’s lower lip,
sucking it into his mouth.
Heat coursed through his belly as hands went for his trousers, undoing the
front and shoving them down his thighs.
Jack gasped aloud when skilled fingers wrapped around his cock, mouth smiling
against his.
“So beautiful, Jack, so perfect.” The man crooned in whisper. His hand pulled
away, and Jack let out a noise of complaint before thick thighs parted, the man
straddling him. A generous ass ground against his cock, the smell in the air
heady and masculine.
Jack settled his hands on the man’s hips, trying to keep his breath steady as
his cock was guided to the man’s hole, sinking slowly into him. He exhaled
sharply when the man was seated atop his lap, hot and tight around him.
The man laughed at the sounds Jack made as he lifted himself up and sank back
down slowly. Too slowly. His hands held Jack down firmly, keeping every
movement at a steady pace.
“Please,” Jack panted, breath shaky.
“Show me you can handle it, Jackie.” The man taunted.
Gritting his teeth, Jack rolled them so that he was on top. The man looked at
him, issuing a silent challenge.
With a low growl, Jack began pounding into the man, chasing his own release.
Encouraging words peppered the air, punctuated with moans.
The man’s arms wrapped around Jack’s torso, sharp fingernails dragging menacing
stripes down his back. Their rhythm stuttered, Jack’s hips jerking as he came
deep inside the man.
He panted, pressing their foreheads together. Hot lips found his and he reached
down, taking the man’s neglected cock in hand and jerking him until he came
between them.
“Please,” Jack whispered, unsure what he was even asking for.
“I don’t know if you’ll thank me for letting you keep this.” The man said
seriously.
“I want to remember this. Remember you.”
The man sighed in resignation, holding Jack close. “Just promise me you won’t
panic when you wake up.”
“Promise.”
===============================================================================
It was thunder that woke Jack this time, rain pelting the window of the room.
Startled, he took a moment to compose himself before he sat up. The pain in his
side had lessened significantly, though the scabbing wound was still tender to
the touch.
Hard to tell with the storm, though it looked it might be late evening.
He realized his trousers were wet at the front. Jack shoved his face into his
hands, grateful that Amélie wasn’t in the room, impassive though she may be, to
see him after coming in his pants like a teenager over an arousing dream.
A set of clothes sat waiting for him on the desk beside his grandfather’s
pocket watch. Grateful to remove his trousers, Jack hastily set about dressing.
It took less time than it had the day before to navigate the intricacies of the
clothes, dressing himself from the waist down quickly.
As Jack pulled on the shirt, he winced at a discomfort shooting through his
back. He ran his hand over his shoulder, searching for the source, and froze.
He checked again.
Three—no, four—lines of raised flesh down his back. The same on the other side.
Jack went pale, standing perfectly still for a few moments before he hurriedly
finished dressing himself and grabbed his grandfather’s pocket watch.
He didn’t encounter anyone else, mercifully, as he tore through the manor,
trying to recall the quickest route to the main hall. The doors stood stiffly
before him, rain crashing against the windows on either side and lightening
flickering in the distance, followed by the boom of thunder. Jack put his hand
on the handle.
Better he try his luck out there than in this madhouse controlled by villainous
creatures.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Someone asked, startling Jack and
making him jump back from the doors.
Sombra stood at the base of the stairs, leaning against the bannister. She
raised an eyebrow at his silence. “Well?”
Jack parted his lips, then closed them again. “I need to leave.” He said.
“You’ll die out there.” Sombra informed him, seemingly bored. “You humans are
more delicate than you like to think. And it’s a bad night to go out.”
Jack shook his head. “It’s better than getting my head played with here.” He
grasped the handle, hearing the latch click as he pulled the door open.
“You don’t want to do that.” Sombra said, making no move to stop him as rain
fell around the door, dripping from the eaves.
“I think I do.” Jack confirmed, looking out from the doors. The manor seemed to
be the only source of light for a ways, the area unfamiliar. The village lay
nearly in the center of the valley. If he walked in a straight line, he’d
almost surely come to somewhere recognizable.
Today would be the first day of the curfew, he realized. Of all nights, the
most likely for someone to accept a stranger for the night, no questions asked.
“Jack,” Sombra trilled in a singsong voice.
Jack ignored her, taking his first step past the threshold.
Hot breath puffed on the back of his neck, making him go still. Jack turned
around slowly.
McCree loomed over Jack, the geniality of the night before gone. His eyes had
taken on an intensity, pinning Jack in place.
“Move.” He ground out.
Jack held his hands up. “I was just getting some fresh air,” he lied weakly.
“Don’t care.” McCree closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath
before he opened them again. “If you want to live, don’t run. And look down,
for fuck’s sake.”
Jack’s heart was thundering in his chest. Gods, he was going to die here in
this house, at the mercy of monsters. “I’m not going to wait to die here.” He
said firmly, meeting McCree’s eye defiantly.
A sharp growl, and McCree was on him, attacking with bestial brutality, his
only aim to get Jack down. Jack’s attempts to fight back were vastly ignored,
as though each blow did nothing. Within moments Jack was on his back on the
floor, sharp knees digging into his thighs and wrists held in a tight grip
above his head, the other hand held tightly at his throat, fingernails digging
sharply into his skin in a silent threat.
McCree bore down on him, a continuous snarl coming from him while Sombra
watched on with vague interest.
“That’s enough.” A stern voice said, and the three looked toward its source.
He stood on the landing, expression murderous, glaring at McCree. A man. The
man. The man from Jack’s dream, to every detail.
McCree kept up a low growling, his grip on Jack tightening.
“Get off of him.” The man said, voice commanding.
McCree looked venomously at the man, but released Jack and stood. Jack pushed
himself to his elbows.
“Where’s Hanzo?” The man asked sharply.
“Resting. Wore him out.” McCree replied shortly.
“Then you should go burn off some energy.”
Their gazes locked coldly for some time in a battle of wills. It was McCree who
looked away resentfully, sparing Jack one last glare before he turned, stepping
out the front door and closing it tightly behind him.
“Sombra.” The man barked.
She smiled sweetly. “Sí papi?”
“Get out of my sight before I figure out what I’m going to do with you.”
Sombra pouted her lips, walking away.
The moment she was gone, the man’s eyes were on Jack.
Jack scrambled to his feet, feeling all the world like a cornered rabbit.
“Are you hurt?”
Jack blinked, surprised. “No.”
Warm brown eyes stared long and hard at Jack, the expression surprisingly soft.
The man’s hand twitched, as though intending to raise it, but his fist clenched
instead.
“Amélie will make you breakfast.” The man said. “Talk to her if your back
starts bothering you.” And he turned back up the stairs, footsteps silent.
At the mention, the shallow cuts on Jack’s back began prickling. There was a
moment before his mind caught up. He started quickly up the stairs.
“Wait.” Jack protested. The man didn’t stop. If anything, he quickened. Jack
all but ran the last twenty feet, catching the man by the wrist. “Wait.” He
said again.
The man spun around, shoving Jack’s back into the wall. Long, sinister fangs
extended from his gums, bared threateningly. His eyes… the irises were no
longer warm brown, but rather an unnerving crimson.
Tick, tick, tick.
Jack managed to settle his breathing. “You’re Gabriel.”
The man closed his mouth, red receding from his eyes. When he spoke, the fangs
were gone as well. “You have questions. You get three.” Gabriel stepped back
and crossed his arms.
Jack didn’t even know where to start. “What the hell was that? The dream.”
“It’s complicated.”
“That’s it? No explanation?”
“Is that your second question?”
Jack sighed. “Alright. Are you going to kill me?”
“No.” Gabriel replied without missing a beat.
“Then why do you want me here?”
Gabriel looked at Jack, visibly chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought.
“It’s complicated.”
Jack threw up his hands in exasperation. “One more.” He said. “You owe me for
those two.”
Gabriel shrugged and nodded.
“The dream, what happened…” Jack started, “Do you- is it going to happen again?
When I’m not sleeping?”
Gabriel seemed to consider this before he stepped closer. Jack felt his breath
catch as the vampire crowded into his personal space, backing up until his back
hit the wall again.
Dark eyes were on his as Gabriel leaned in close, their lips just barely
ghosting over each other.
Jack inhaled once sharply, closing his eyes and pushing forward.
It wasn’t like his dream. Here, Gabriel was cold. No pulse beat through him.
Gabriel’s hands caught his hips, holding Jack still as their lips moved and
molded together. Jack grabbed Gabriel by the back of the neck, forcing the
vampire to deepen the kiss. Jack moaned softly as Gabriel’s tongue coiled over
his, wetly mapping his mouth.
Gabriel pulled back, their lips making a wet noise as they separated.
Jack blinked a few times to get his bearings.
“You know where my study is.” It wasn’t a question.
Jack dipped his head in a nod.
Gabriel’s hand slid up over Jack’s throat, squeezing once gently at the sides.
“I’m a very selfish man, Jack. If you knock on that door, I will take you. I
will take your blood and I will take your body and I’ll give you mine in
return. If you come to that door, those are my conditions. So think on it.”
===============================================================================
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO

Gabe sat stationary in the branches, watching the village children from afar in
the light of the setting sun as they darted around, playing their games.
He was restless. It’d been too long since he’d had a good meal. If his
information was right, the Deadlock Pack wasn’t far off. Malicious bastards
would tear right through the valley if they weren’t stopped, eating, killing,
rutting, and/or turning any human they came across, moon time be damned.
Likewise, Gabe had to be alert for them.
Should the village miss the instinct to flee in the face of Deadlock, Gabriel
had only to make himself known. It was better to be feared than loved by those
you wished to protect.
One of the older children shouted something, then let out a roar. The young
ones scattered from her with screams, running in all directions.
He cursed gently to himself as a few of them began weaving through the trees
not far from him. Where were these kids’ parents, and why weren’t they teaching
them not to just fucking run off?
He watched as one child attempted to make a sharp turn, running headlong into
the rough trunk of a tree and fall onto his rump.
Gabe could smell blood immediately. He checked to make sure there wasn’t anyone
else around before he fazed, black fog traveling quickly through the branches
and to the ground.
Kid wasn’t even crying, just repeatedly touching his fingers to his face in
wonder, as though he couldn’t believe he was actually bleeding, even as the
front of his off-cream dress was stained with it.
Gabriel sighed as he rematerialized, crouching down immediately to take the
child’s hand away from his face. Gabe jerked from inside his vest pocket a
handkerchief, cleaning the boy’s fingers.
“Look at me.” Gabe said sharply, wiping the blood dripping from the boy’s nose.
“Who are you?” The boy asked, entirely unafraid.
“A monster.”
“No you’re not.” Gabe turned his gaze back up to the boy. Wide blue eyes, rosy
cheeks, blond curls.
“Yes I am.” Gabe asserted.
“No.” The boy repeated. “Monsters are mean and scary.”
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Jack.”
“Well, Jackie, try not to run into so many trees.” Gabe recommended, tucking
the bloodied handkerchief back into his pocket. He scooped his hands beneath
Jack’s armpits, lifting him back onto his feet. “Now run along home. It’s
getting dark.”
Chapter End Notes
     Porn
     Jesse getting ready for the full moon
     Plot
     And then our flashback from Gabe's perspective.
     I was actually really amazed by all the positive feedback I got on
     the first chapter. Like, wow. I want all you guys to know that I love
     you a bunch and I love making Gabriel Reyes experience emotional
     pain, so buckle in.
     Leave a comment to let me know what you thought, and/or find me at a-
     sad-little-biscuit.tumblr.com
***** Chapter Three *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO
Gabriel looked down at the wolf—the pup—before him. A youth of but fifteen,
give or take, teeth bared.
“You gonna bite me if I let you up, cabrón?” It’d be a poor decision. The
entirety of the Deadlock Pack was a mangled mess across the clearing, a few
spread out among the trees, the only survivor spared by his youth and Gabriel’s
mercy. Kid had sure fought like hell, though.
A moment of quiet. “Naw, don’t think I will.”
“Good boy.” Gabriel couldn’t resist the jab as he released his grip on the back
of the boy’s neck. “You wanna tell me what you’re doing with this bunch?”
The kid sat up, attempting to regain dignity and symbolic control by slouching.
“Pack is life.”
“Pack is dead, actually, or maybe you’d missed that bit.”
“The fuck do you even care?” The mouthy little fucker asked.
Good question. “You’re young. You keep trying to tag along with lowlives like
these, you’re gonna die young.”
The kid shook his head. “Living in your big fancy house make you forget what
it’s like, old man? You don’t get a pack, you’re dead.”
Gabriel crossed his arms. This was fucking ridiculous. “Think you can handle a
few rules, Perrito? Don’t kill my humans, get your shit on a leash?”
“You lookin’ for a husband?” The kid asked cynically as he stood.
“I’m in the habit of feeding stray dogs. It’s that or I scatter your brains on
the ground.”
“Jesse McCree.”
“Gabriel Reyes.”
===============================================================================
Jack knew he wasn’t supposed to go outside when the doors were latched at
night. But the danger on those nights was monsters, and Jack already knew a
monster who was nice.
Jack had hardly been able to sleep with all the barking and baying of the
creatures.
A bit of finagling and stretching, and the latch gave way to the whims of a
four-year-old.
The grass was cool beneath Jack’s feet, damp with dew. The moon hung heavy and
bright overhead, nearly full. Jack shut the front door. ‘Close the door.’
Mother would tell him. Jack was her Sweet Boy, so he did it without being
asked.
Crickets chirped loudly, tiny bugs leaping up around his bare legs with each
muffled step. Jack quickened his pace, running through the field. He knew the
area around the farm by heart. He slowed when he heard something crack. A
stick, he concluded, and wondered who would be out breaking sticks in the dark.
It was a lady, he found, with mud all up her side and her head. Her footsteps
shambled, weight rested on one shaky hand against the trunk of a tree. She only
had the one arm, Jack saw, and one of her legs dragged behind her a bit.
“Hello.” He said.
The lady stopped, head jerking to him. Jack noted the glassy character to her
eyes, as though she were falling asleep. She smiled at him.
“Now where did you come from, little one?” She asked sweetly.
===============================================================================
Gabe had sent Jesse off to find dry wood while he cleared a space. Probably
best the kid wasn’t here while Gabe prepared the corpses of his entire pack for
burning.
He heard a high-pitched scream from the direction of the village, dropping the
decapitated body in his arms. He dematerialized, smoke covering ground far
faster than he could on foot.
Dammit, he knew he shouldn’t have trusted Jesse to go off on his own. He should
have known the little shit would try to pick off a few innocents just to spite
Gabe.
He stopped near one of the outlying farms, the only sound the wet tearing of
flesh. Without thought, Gabe rematerialized and surged forward, tackling the
assailant.
It wasn’t Jesse, he saw, but rather an injured shewolf, covered in blood. Her
arm was missing, likely back in the field with her fellows, her ankle broken.
Gabriel snapped her neck, ripping the head off for good measure.
On the ground, a tiny form lay prone. A child, face and neck and chest ripped
apart by fingernails and teeth. His blood splattered the front of his
nightshirt, sticking his blond hair to his head.
The boy Gabriel had met just before sunset. Jack.
Gabe dropped to his knees beside the boy. Unconscious, not dead, heart still
beating. Careful not to jostle the boy, Gabe picked him up in his arms.
Tiny, broken body held safely to his chest, Gabe ran.
He ran until he was nearly at the edge of the valley, fist banging on the door
of the small stone cabin, abandoned by all appearances. The low dilapidated
wall meant to fence in the garden, planted herbs nibbled on by deer and
rabbits, clinging vines and moss taking hold of any bit of wall they could. The
only sign of life was the steady stream of smoke piping from the chimney.
When he refused to stop knocking, the door was jerked in and a woman in her
nightdress answered.
The woman almost certainly had a scolding prepared for him for waking her so
late, but it died on her tongue.
Ana looked at him, at Jack in his arms. “Come in.” She told him, stepping from
the door. “Quickly.”
Gabe crossed the threshold, unsure where to look. The only patient he'd ever
brought in was himself, and he doubted Jack was up to sitting in Gabe's usual
chair.
Ana bustled around, gathering up supplies. She glanced once at him and crossed
to the table, blowing across it's surface to disrupt the layer of flour.
“Here.” She told him, slapping her hand onto the surface. “Remove his clothes.”
Gabe was infinitely careful as he lowered the mangled boy onto the table,
cradling his head to stop it from thumping. The nightshirt he ripped down the
front, wincing at the way some of the shredded fabric lifted for a moment
flayed skin.
Ana returned from the hearth with a kettle of water, pouring some into a wooden
bowl. She was unmindful of the steam that rolled off as she plunged a rag into
it, then wrang it out.
She started on Jack's chest, wiping away blood quickly, efficiently.
“I hope you didn't plan on breaking another one of my chairs.” She said,
interrupting the heavy silence.
Gabe looked down, loosening his grip on the wood.
“You know I work better with explanation.” Ana commented. “And you also know
our deal only extends to your household.”
“I'll pay you for your time.” Gabe assured her. “I couldn't take him to the
Zieglers, I don't even think their stuff would work for this.”
“Hm.”
“Deadlock straggler.” Gabriel finally spoke. “She must've found him while I was
getting rid of the bodies.” He watched as Ana threaded a thick needle with
silk, tying it off neatly before she pulled some of the skin together, starting
to shove the needle through skin.
“He's but a babe.” Ana reminded him, one hand falling to her own midsection,
just beginning to show the signs of rounding with child.
Gabriel had no response to that, merely watching as Ana carefully stitched the
boy back together, wiping blood from his skin. His wounds still bled, though
Gabriel was glad to see that it had slowed considerably.
“Will he live?” Gabe finally asked, eyes locked on the dirtied face.
“You said Deadlock?”
Gabe nodded.
“I do not know if the moon is yet in place for transformation. If this happens,
you will have to take him in or kill him. Young wolves are volatile. The matter
of telling his family should fall to you, as this was your clumsiness.”
“You're talking down to me again.” Gabe reminded her.
“Forgive me, my friend. I forget too easily that you are unchanging, not
young.”
Ana tied off the silk, cutting the thread. Jack's chest was back together, at
least, though the wound would no doubt scar terribly.
“If he does not turn, he may survive.” Ana concluded. “So long as infection
does not set in, if he lasts until morning, he will recover.”
“That's a lot of ‘if’s.”
Ana hummed her response. “Tell me, Gabriel, why did you seek to save this boy?
Sentiment, perhaps?“
Gabe scoffed, shaking his head. “You know I'm too old for sentiment, Ana.”
“And yet you stay and watch over people who scorn you. Why, if you do not
care?”
“It's easier. I know the area, they know to stay out of my way, my house is
here.” Gabriel drummed his fingers on his knee. “I don't know anyone else
willing to patch me up.”
“I will not be around forever, you know.” Ana reminded him.
Gabriel knew. He avoided getting close to anyone for that reason. “You're
leaving a legacy.” He pointed out.
“And if my child doesn't want to tend to your wounds?”
“I'm pretty persuasive.”
The alchemist laughed. She returned her attention to Jack, stitching the cut
over his collarbone. Her brow furrowed.
She pressed her fingers to the side of Jack's neck. “Gabriel,” she hissed in
whisper.
Gabe shook his head, steadfastly ignoring the absence of Jack's heartbeat in
the cabin. Gods, when had he heard it last? He should have been listening for
it, not letting it blend into the background of his mind.
“What do we do?” He demanded of Ana. “You have to help him, we have to save
him,”
“Gabriel, there's nothing-”
“Ana, he's dying, we have to do something.”
“If you would listen, I think we can delay-”
“Ana, he's a kid! Whatever delay you can put on his dying is way too fucking
short.”
“Gabriel!” She snapped, Gabe's hand flying up on instinct to catch her wrist
before a slap connected to shake him from his shock. “There is something.”
Gabe nodded, looking at her expectantly. Gods, everything was moving too slow,
and Jack was slipping farther and farther away from life.
“If you give him your blood,”
“Ana what the fuck!?” Gabe exclaimed. “I'm not going to turn a kid!”
“You won't be turning him.” Ana assured him. “With the preservative properties
of vampiric blood, a small dose should be enough to draw him back from the
brink of death and begin to heal his wounds.”
“You've thought about this before, haven't you?” Gabe asked her, part amazed
and part angry.
“In theory,” Ana continued. “Without a high enough ratio in his veins, the
effects should lay dormant so long as he maintains mental shields.”
“He'd need a telepath's help to even start. Without one he'd be sending up a
signal to anything supernatural for miles around.”
“Or someone able to access his subconscious.” Ana added. “Such as a vampire of
his line.” She cut off Gabe's next interjection. He saw her hand curl over the
hilt of a knife, as though sure of his choice already. “If he maintains the
shields, he could live a normal life.”
Gabe looked at her seriously for a few moments, then to Jack. But for the
cruel-looking stitches and traces of blood, it was as though he were merely
sleeping. A tiny angel, body temperature dropping with each minute.
“Fine.” Gabriel agreed, holding his hand out for the blade. “How much?”
===============================================================================
PRESENT
Jack went to the parlor, unsure where else to go.
Amélie was the only one there, glancing up at him as she stood beside what Jack
had come to understand was Hanzo and Jesse’s table. Her pale hands polished a
porcelain cup on a white cloth, setting only one place and leaving behind a
teapot.
Jack took his seat from the night before. He happened to look in Amélie’s
direction, finding her eyes fixed on him.
He dropped his gaze. Shit, did she have a way of knowing? Jesse’s comment the
night before had reasserted to Jack that he was among nonhuman creatures with
nonhuman abilities. Jesse could smell, could Amélie as well? Could she read his
mind? Jack fought the urge to bring his hand up to his lips, to where Gabriel’s
had been just minutes before.
“What do you want?” Amélie asked him.
Jack straightened up. “Me? Nothing. I don’t want anything.”
The woman stared at him for several long minutes in what he could tell was
silent exasperation.
“What do you want to eat?” She clarified.
“Oh, um, I’m not really hungry.” Jack said pitifully.
“You will die young if you do not eat.” Amélie explained to him graciously.
“You will have bread and cheese.”
“Mind if I have a bite?” A voice said not far from Jack’s ear, startling him
and making him jerk forward.
Sombra laughed. “Jumpy.” She noted, taking the seat across from Jack. “Jesse
didn’t scare you too bad, did he? Or did Gabi get a little rough with you?”
At that, a flood of heat rushed to Jack’s cheeks.
Thankfully, that was when Hanzo arrived for breakfast, distracting Sombra while
she attempted to tease him about a really awful bruise near the base of his
throat that she suggested he seek a medical opinion on.
===============================================================================
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO
Jack yawned sleepily as he rose from bed, noting a bit of an ache in his head.
He scratched his belly, finding himself in a different nightshirt than the one
he had gone to sleep in. Or at least, he thought so. He was sure that he’d worn
the blue one the night before. Jack shrugged. He was probably mistaken.
He scurried from the nursery. As expected, Father was missing from the house
already. Unexpectedly, so was Mother. Jack clambered onto their bed, patting
the sheets to see if she might be hiding beneath them.
“Mother?” Jack called up to the loft, hearing no response. The hearth was low,
no pot simmering quietly over the fire.
Jack’s gaze fell to the door. His bare feet tramped on the worn wooden floor,
hands grasping the handle of the door and pulling it down.
There were a few people outside, off some ways from the house, all looking at
something on the ground and talking.
Besides Mother and Father, there was Dr. Ziegler (the woman, not the man) and
the Mayor.
Jack started running right on out to them, glad they were having company.
He saw Mother turn her head and spot him, then say something to the others
before she started walking over to meet him.
Mother smiled wide when she reached him and scooped him up in her arms, though
the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “There’s my sweet boy.” She said,
hefting him up onto her hip. “Let’s go get you dressed while Father talks,
yeah?”
Jack nodded his assent, resting his chin on her shoulder.
He frowned. In the gap in the ring Mother had left, Jack could nearly make out
what they were looking at on the ground. Just peeking from around Dr. Ziegler’s
boot, it looked like a hand…
Mother sat him down when they got to the house, leading him to the square table
in the middle of the room and plopping him into a chair.
Mother sucked her teeth. “Jackie, you’ve got a nosebleed.”
Jack’s tongue darted upwards, catching a taste of copper.
“Don’t,” Mother scolded, dabbing her handkerchief at his upper lip, pinching
his nostrils briefly as she wiped away the blood.
Her eyes moved upward from his nose, running the bad of her thumb from his
forehead to the side of his nose. “You’ve got a scratch, Jackie.”
“I ran into a tree yesterday. My nose bled then, too.”
Mother shook her head. “Be careful,” she cautioned.
“My friend helped me.”
Mother folded her handkerchief tightly, tucking it into the waist of her skirt.
“Which friend was that, sweetheart?”
Jack shrugged. “My new friend.” He hadn’t caught his new monster friend’s name.
But he seemed nice.
Chapter End Notes
     So this was mostly back story plot stuff to help establish Jack and
     Gabe's relationship prior to this whole mess. Well, the initial mess,
     at least.
     At this point in the flashback, Jack is four, Fareeha has not been
     born yet, and Angela is but a distant thought on the horizon.
     Thank you so much to everyone for the support I've received so far,
     it really makes me feel good about my writing knowing that other
     people enjoy it.
     Leave a comment if you have time and words to say. Find me at a-sad-
     little-biscuit.tumblr.com if you want to yell at me there.
***** Chapter Four *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
SIXTEEN YEARS AGO
Jack seemed content to ignore Gabe. Content to keep his maker (‘too young’,
Gabe reminded himself, ‘too young to understand the gravity of the term or to
have need of it in the first place’) and likewise, his subsequent woes,
estranged from the forefront of his mind.
Jack was a child, therefor inclined to less intricate dreamscapes.
The subconscious thoughts twisted in a dizzy swirl of color and recollection
within the scenery, and Gabe noted gratefully that nothing of the night Jack
had been changed marred the landscape.
For weeks, Gabe had been locking himself in his study, closing his eyes and
slipping vividly into Jack’s mind. If he tried the same thing with Sombra,
she’d probably smack him. Brat. She herself prided herself on being able to
transverse mental barriers with ease and extract secrets.
In truth, it would have been significantly easier for Sombra to help Jack build
walls. Being both a telepath in her own right and one of Gabriel’s, and
therefore Jack’s, bloodline, she might even be able to do so without his
noticing.
But Gabe hadn’t told her about his mission yet. Jack’s mind needed to be
carefully molded and shaped, to protect him completely from enemies the small
boy couldn’t begin to understand. Gabe only trusted himself to do that. And
like Ana had said, it was his responsibility.
Gabe sighed. He’d put this off long enough. It had to be done, even if it
disturbed whatever rationed peace he found in Jack’s mind.
Gabe lay the first stone of the wall, so to speak.
Memories of warmth and safety woven in with Jack’s own recollections of
happiness created a slim barrier against the outside world.
“Who are you?” A voice asked.
Gabe sighed. That really hadn’t been enough time.
They were shrouded in a dull blue, a pocket of air and visible light around
them. An impossibly young being stared down and impossibly old one.
Gabe forced a smile. “Can you keep a secret, Jackie?”
===============================================================================
PRESENT
Jack didn’t want to leave his room for any reason except meals, but when he
lingered he could feel the dream pulling him back in.
With perfect clarity, hands were on him, a hot, greedy mouth on his.
He was stirred by a jovial whistling, startled when McCree entered the parlor.
The man looked a bit worse for wear, scratches on his face and arms.
Jack watched him carefully, wary of another strong shift in temperament.
Likewise, he flinched when a heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder.
“Sorry about the other night.” McCree said with a bit of a sheepish laugh.
“That time of the month, if ya catch my drift.”
Wha-?
A tilt of Amélie’s head, and Jack’s gaze fell on the window. Stars were
scattered across the dark blue sky, the moon large and but a sliver from
fullness. Oh. Of course.
“‘S alright.” Jack said after a moment, lost for what else to say.
“Hope the boss didn’t give ya too hard a time.” Jesse continued, taking his
seat at his and Hanzo’s table. He turned to Sombra at her own table, where she
was contenting herself with reading over an absurdly thick tome, occasionally
scratching notes into the margins. “And whatever you got, ya had coming.”
Sombra seemed affronted at this. “I did nothing wrong.” She claimed.
“You set a shifting wolf on Gabriel’s human.” Amélie chimed in.
Jack felt the protest growing in his chest at being called Gabriel’s, recalling
to mind Gabriel’s words the night before. “I will take you.” He’d warned
plainly, as though it were the simplest of facts. “Mi sol.”
“No one asked you, zombie.”
“You do not eat and you do not cook, so there is no reason for you to be at
breakfast.”
Sombra rolled her eyes. “Not all of us can sulk in our rooms all night like
Gabi. Gods only know what he does in there.”
As if on cue, the scratches down Jack’s back began to prickle. He buried any
expression he might have shown in a biscuit shoved almost forcefully into his
mouth.
“Why don’t you just use your mind magic and find out?” Jesse asked, ripping the
thick cut of venison placed in front of him by Amélie with his fingers.
“He’s been blocking me,” Sombra griped, bringing up her fingers to rub at her
temples. She turned her eyes sharply to Jack, mischievous smile on her lips.
“But I don’t suppose Gabi’s been visiting his pet human in his dreams?”
Jack nearly choked, flush spreading all the way to his ears.
The conversation was, blessedly, steered away when Hanzo arrived, hair and
clothing impeccable and seemingly immune to whatever exaggerated wolf-whistling
Jesse started up for his own entertainment.
Jack returned to his room to suffer a few more hours of solitude.
===============================================================================
It was a knocking at the manor doors that took Gabriel from his study. Through
the trickle stream of consciousness that bound them, he knew Jack had not heard
it.
Gabriel straightened his vest as he made his way down the stairs. He already
knew who stood behind the door, but he still indulged the girl with something
akin to surprise when he saw her.
Her gaze was sharp as her tongue, not unlike her mother’s.
“You have to send him back.” She said, stubbornly crossing her arms.
“Hello to you too.” Gabe answered, stepping aside to let the human pass through
the door. “You’re up late, aren’t you?”
She shook her hair free from the hood of her cloak, letting it cascade down her
back. “Where’s Jack?” She continued, all business.
“Upstairs.” Reading, if the vivid imaginings coming through the other end of
their link was anything to go by. So he’d found the library after all.
“Does he know anything yet?” The girl continued.
“A little.” Gabe admitted.
“And he hasn’t left yet.” She acknowledged. “But he hasn’t accepted you yet.”
“These things take time.” Gabe tried.
“No. Just because you’re older than all of us, you don’t get to pretend you
know what’s best for everyone.” Her eyes glinted, a touch of anger rising in
her voice. Jealousy, Gabe noted, as well.
“They wouldn’t let him come back, anyways.” He reasoned. “How much longer could
Jack hold out? A month? A year? The second something happened, he’d be killed.”
Gabe tilted his head, looking at her. Slight though her form was, she was a
fair match for Sombra in terms of magical potential, young though she was.
“It’s his only chance.” Gabriel argued.
“He’d have more options if you’d just give everything back, let him build his
own walls against your curse.” Her words were venomous, meant to scathe him in
exchange for her own hurts.
Gabe bit his tongue. The image of the bloodied, broken little boy, the victim
of Gabe’s carelessness, flooded his mind. “You don’t want that.” He said, voice
cold. “You don’t want that, because then Jack would remember that he’s in love
with me.”
The girl’s eyes bore into Gabe’s for a few moments longer before she looked
away, attempting to conceal the pain from a being that saw everything before
him.
“Your mother will notice you’re gone.” Gabe told her, stepping aside to give
her a clear path to the still-open doors. “Go home, Angela.”
===============================================================================
Jack’s feet crunched with each step, the brittle carpeting of the forest
alerting all around to his presence.
But there was no one—or thing—around to hear. Just stillness and a somewhat
familiar setting, familiar only in the sense that Jack as a child had often
lost his way wandering the edge of the tree line, his sense of direction
vanished the moment the horizon wasn’t clearly before him.
He sighed. If he was able to find the river, he could follow it to the village
and return to the farm in the morning. Now that the immediate threat of Gabriel
taking him had more or less passed, perhaps the Zieglers might be convinced to
take him in for a few hours.
Unlikely, but hope was better than the prospect of crawling in through loose
cellar doors to shelter himself from vampires until dawn came.
Something was following him, he realized. The presence of it nipped at his
heels, slow and steady. Taunting him with its patience.
You can’t escape me. It said. I will catch you sooner or later.
Jack was able to put some distance between himself and the presence by
quickening his pace, and relaxed a bit.
It took no more than a moment before the sensation of being watched returned.
It was speeding up with him, scrabbling claws brushing at the tendons in his
ankles to mock him with their closeness.
Jack stumbled, panicking as he attempted to regain his footing.
A hand laced with his, cool and heavy and hauling him up and then leading him
away. The creature at his back could not keep up with the both of them, its
malicious presence fading.
“Thank you.” Jack whispered.
Gabriel smiled at him.
===============================================================================
Jack jerked upright, all but rolling out of bed.
It’d been a week since Gabriel had entered his dreams, since he’d given Jack
his ultimatum. It was still light out, orange sunlight trickling past the edges
of the heavy curtains.
“Bastard,” he muttered under his breath as he shoved on a pair of trousers and
a shirt. “Lying son of a-”
“I can hear you thinking from here.”
Jack startled, falling onto his ass with his pants halfway up his thighs.
Sombra gazed at Jack apathetically from the doorway, unaffected by his frantic
attempts to properly dress himself.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” She warned sardonically.
“What are you doing here?” Jack asked. “Shouldn’t you be-”
“Cracking open the heads of kittens and drinking their blood? Sacrificing first
born children?”
“Asleep.”
Sombra shrugged. “Shouldn’t you? Your nose is bleeding, by the way.” A smirk
danced on her lips, unsettling.
Jack brought his hand to his upper lip, indeed finding hot wetness and coming
away with a dirtied crimson.
===============================================================================
Gabe could hear him, practically feel Jack storming through the halls. His eyes
darted to the clock. It was still barely night. He could smell the bleeding;
it’d been too long since he’d last fed. Somehow the idea of doing so while Jack
was in the house seemed unbearable. He wondered if Jack were bleeding from the
ears, as Gabe had, or the eyes like Sombra.
There was a pounding at the door to his study.
He opened the door, remaining unfazed by Jack’s startling backwards; as though
he hadn’t really expected Gabriel behind the door.
Jack’s nose, as it turned out, was bleeding. It’d been mostly stopped, not
entirely coagulated, the slightest hint of rust inside the curve of a nostril.
“You said you would stop.” Jack said, accusatorily.
“I…what?” Gabe asked. Stop what? A naïve bubble of hope worked its way into his
still heart, wondering what Jack spoke of, what memory was touched on and
examined and cradled now that had stirred Jack to this near-rage.
“The dreams.” Jack continued, as though it were obvious, and Gabe were
intentionally antagonizing him. “You said that you would stop doing…that.”
Gabriel blinked, then a small smile appeared on his lips as he took it all in;
the unwashed masculine scent clinging to Jack’s skin, the flush of his cheeks,
the bright anger. “Jackie, did you have a wet dream about me?” The sort of
teasing banter they might have fallen into once, before.
Jack’s body went rigid, color spreading across his face and all the way down
his neck.
Gabriel decided he’d spare Jack the embarrassment for now. “If there’s nothing
else you needed…” He trailed off, slowly closing the door to his study.
For a brief moment, there was a flicker of rejection on Jack’s face as
Gabriel's promise was called to mind before the door closed and the study was
left in familiar darkness.
Gabe’s chest ached.
===============================================================================
THREE YEARS AGO
Jack had dozed off, once more, his head in Gabe’s lap while the vampire had
told stories of long ago. How one slept in their own dreams, Gabe hadn’t the
slightest idea. At the very least, this slip of control sent Jack’s mind
spinning into memory and imaginings; the sorts of dreams he might have had were
he completely human.
Gabriel carded his fingers through the flaxen hair, trying to commit this
moment to memory. How far they’d come from an adolescent boy asking permission
before planting experimental kisses on the cheek of his mentor-figure and a
put-upon old man enjoying intimacy he could not ever recall feeling.
It could not last, Gabe knew. Even Jesse could detect Jack at this point;
everyday more of him ceased to be human, without the mental fortitude of a
vampire. Already creatures had begun to lurk on the edges of the valley,
curious at the presence of this evidently unskilled fledgling. It wouldn’t be
long until they dared come for Jack.
Just three years. They’d agreed on that. If Jack had his way, he’d be fully
turned already.
“You’re too young to die, Jack.” Gabriel would argue, after Jack cried out in
the height of passion, begging to drink Gabriel’s blood.
“I’m not dying.” Jack would always counter with. “I’m just being born.”
In those moments, it was difficult for Gabriel not to give in and turn his
beloved, to find him in the waking world—not a difficult task, as their bond
was strong enough for Gabriel to feel Jack wherever he was—and kiss him. To
make love with the human not just in mind but in body, to open a vein and share
the most personal part of himself he had left to offer.
Jack was an astounding creature; he knew all of Gabriel’s history, and didn’t
shy from him. He knew Gabriel’s duties, and warned him to be careful. Jack
cared.
That was what made this so painful. The walls Gabe had helped Jack build were
strong enough, able to shield him very well with maintenance.
It felt like a corruption of their bond, to steal away these moments, even for
three years—just three years—and dwell only in the shadows until Jack was old
enough. Twenty-one years of age, five years than Gabriel by appearances, and
they could at last be reunited.
“You’ll still return.” Jack said quietly, eyes now open once more.
Gabe gave a gentle smile. “Of course, mi sol. Every night, I’ll be with you.”
“But you’ll take that away too.”
Gabriel nodded gravely.
“You’ll give them back when I’m ready?” Jack asked, somewhat anxiously. “When
I’m old enough, and once I love you?”
“If you can learn to love a monster a second time.”
Jack’s brow furrowed, frustration marring his features. “You’re not a monster,
Gabe. Just a fool. I’ll always love you.”
Gabe pursed his lips. Three years. “I’ll keep them safe.” Every memory of Gabe,
every touch they’d shared, every mention of the tiny amount of Gabriel’s blood
surviving and lying dormant in Jack’s veins. “I promise.”
Chapter End Notes
     Short, I'm aware, but I really wanted to crunch this part out before
     I shift gears a little bit.
     As always, feedback is appreciated. Or you can yell at me at a-sad-
     little-biscuit.tumblr.com
     EDIT 11/1/17: In regards to the comments about the timeline, I've
     revised how I present flashbacks to make it a little easier to
     understand.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
