Fic: Monsters (CSI:NY, AU, FRT-13)
May. 24th, 2009 09:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: Monsters
Author: Kathie
Rating: FRT-13
Warnings: AU, maybe some slightly disturbing images with blood?
Disclaimer: Not mine…
Summary: Monsters exist in many forms, he told Danny.
Author's Notes: Follows Ghosthunting and One of the Good Guys.
Challenge and Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_what_ifs, Table Supernatural, Prompt: 3. Monsters
Beta: Ginny. *hugs* Thank you, for graciously not struggling too much when I made you read this one. *huggles*
"Monsters exist in many forms," Sheldon pointed out with a small secretive smile as he looked in the rear view mirror. "Not all of them go bump in the night."
It was, Danny thought, as if they were still sitting at home, a chess board in between them, and discussed the deep philosophical questions Hawkes was so fond of.
But they weren't.
"Go bump in the night?" he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief, and pressed his left hand tighter to the deep cut in his right forearm. He was pale, his skin ashen and with dark bruises already forming on his cheek and around his throat.
"Yeah," Sheldon smiled. He seemed relaxed, but his breath came in short, shallow gasps, and his fingers tightened reflexively around the steering wheel of the car.
"Hey," Don gasped softly and shifted slightly. "Stop breathing, doc!"
Sheldon snorted sharply. "I'm a vampire, Flack, not dead," he answered flatly. "I need oxygen just like you do."
Don didn't answer, and Shel checked the mirror again with growing worry.
"Hold on, we'll be there in a minute," he whispered through clenched teeth. "We're almost there."
The smell of blood was almost overwhelming in the small confines of Danny's car, and Sheldon pushed the gas pedal to the floor. He could feel the hunger tugging at the edges of his consciousness, the deep pain in his stomach.
His teeth hurt.
It had been too long since he'd tasted the blood of a young human. He hadn't forgotten the taste. No vampire ever did. He remembered drinking from a helpless human, the hot pulsing of blood, with every panicked, or every calm heartbeat. He remembered the warmth spreading from his mouth, pharynx, esophagus, stomach to every part of his body, until it tingled in his fingertips, how alive it made him feel…
"Hawkes!"
He blinked. His teeth pulsed with every beat of his weak heartbeats, he tasted his own blood on his tongue from where he'd bitten through his lip without even noticing it.
It was everywhere. And it was getting more and more intense with every drop of blood his precious burden was losing.
"You back with us?" Danny snapped, and Hawkes nodded and forced a smile on his face. It felt like a grimace, but he figured that Danny didn't particularly care about it right now.
"Good. Concentrate."
Danny's voice trembled slightly, from tiredness and stress, and probably from the blood loss as well, but there was a hint of steel underneath it that told Hawkes exactly what Mac meant when he said that Danny had potential.
Sheldon could taste the pain and the near-panic in the air. Danny was at the edge of what he could take. Sheldon's heightened vampire senses reacted to that desperation with wild hunger.
Yes, he thought, the situation had quickly turned from horribly wrong to something that was even worse.
"We're almost there," he managed to say; he even managed to make his voice appear low and soothing, a trick every vampire learned early in life – the power of seduction.
"Doc!" Danny gasped. "Right now I don't care if monsters go bump in the night or dance on the table, dressed in Stella's best dress. I can't feel him anymore!"
This, Hawkes knew, was pure, full-blown panic. "Hold on," he yelled, all finesse forgotten. "We're here. One minute, Danny, I swear, on my mother's grave!"
Danny laughed.
It wasn't merriment.
It was desperation.
Hawkes stopped the car in a spray of pebbles in front of a perfectly ordinary house and jumped out. He allowed himself three precious seconds to take a lungful of fresh night air with no traces of blood before he opened the door and lifted the long-limbed, unconscious, bleeding body out.
The smell of living blood was attacking his nerves again, battering against the thin shield of his self-control.
Sheldon smiled grimly. Living blood. It wasn't too late, then.
Carefully he carried the body to the door. A young woman, barely grown-up, already awaited him.
"Dad's in the basement," she said without preamble. "He's waiting for you."
Shel nodded and went down the stairs.
It really was an advantage to be a vampire and have the strength to effortlessly lift heavy weights, he thought quietly.
Sid was already waiting for him, dressed in scrubs, with everything he needed laid out. Carefully Sheldon put the body he was carrying on one of the steel tables before stepping back.
He didn't need to worry about it anymore. It wasn't his responsibility anymore.
No.
He slowly went upstairs again to pull Danny out of the car and bring him inside, to stop him from hyperventilating and from doing something incredibly stupid.
He had to make sure they hadn't left traces. He had to make sure their work was completed.
He had to call Stella.
His fingers were slick and sticky with the blood he hadn't washed off, and instinctively he lifted them up to stare at them as if he'd never seen them before.
Blood was sticking to the pads of his fingers, clinging to the fine ridges and valleys in his skin. It was mixed blood, both from Don and Danny, he could smell them both in it.
He didn't realize he was doing it until the tip of his tongue touched it and the taste exploded over his senses like fireworks.
This was bad. He knew the signs, he knew that he needed blood in order not to lose his mind. And he had to stay away from Don and Danny. Their blood talked to him now, speaking of anger, of pain, of faint traces of memories.
It was all in their blood.
A wave of anger and disgust gripped him.
Monsters exist in many forms, he'd told Danny, and he knew that was right. Monsters didn't always have nine eyes, sharp teeth, and six arms.
Monsters didn't always have lines of stitches all over their body, to prevent arms and legs from falling off.
Sometimes, monsters were normal, every day people, who seemed harmless and innocent to the observing eye, until they went ballistic and beat up their wives and kids in the basement, or shot at people who tried to free them from supernatural phenomena, good people who didn't mean them any harm.
And sometimes, he thought while methodically cleaning every trace of blood from his hands, feeling the roughness of his own tongue, monsters were exactly what they looked like.
Vampires.
Demons.
Goblins.
Monsters.
"Hawkes! Doc!" Danny snapped his fingers in front of Sheldon's face. "Wake up!"
"I'm awake, Danny," he answered automatically, although he had no idea how long Danny had been standing there.
"Good."
A cup was thrust into his cold fingers. "Drink."
Offering no resistance – he didn't have the strength left – Hawkes took a sip and shuddered when the liquid raced down his throat, into his body, revitalizing him, blossoming warmly through his body.
It was not enough, it never was, but it helped him re-establish control over himself. He didn't even pay attention to the taste.
He just drank the blood.
"You're welcome," Danny cockily replied and sat down next to him.
He'd taken off his shirt and tried to wash off most of the blood. His arm was still wrapped with the makeshift bandage.
Sheldon sniffed carefully. There was more than one source of blood.
Two.
Puzzle pieces fell in place and formed a new picture that didn't make any sense to him.
"Why?" he asked and grabbed Danny's hand to inspect the fresh cut in his palm.
Danny shrugged. "Because of what you've told me," he answered. "About monsters."
He smiled awkwardly. "You aren't one of them," he explained. "You might be a lot, but you're no monster, Sheldon Hawkes. That much I know for sure."
Sheldon chuckled softly. "We need to talk about that little ability of yours. Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Again Danny shrugged. "Why didn't you tell us that your doctor friend is a zombie?"
"It didn't matter."
Danny only smirked, and Shel asked: "So you've met Sid?"
"No," Danny admitted. "But I know nonetheless. His daughter, she told me Don's going to be fine."
Sheldon nodded and lifted Danny's bleeding hand to his mouth. He took a deep breath.
"You're talented," he murmured. "Why did you panic so much in the car?"
Danny squirmed. "For a second," he explained quietly, "his line ended, and I couldn't feel him anymore. That's all. Why did you swear on your mother's grave?"
Shel realized that Danny didn't want to talk about his abilities, and he allowed him to change topics.
For now.
"She doesn't use it that often," he answered instead. "I figured she didn't need it today."
He pressed a short kiss into Danny's palm, licking away the blood and strengthening the bond that had formed the second he'd swallowed the first drop of Danny's life essence. Danny's eyes followed every one of his moves, but he didn't pull back. Sheldon knew that Danny was aware of what was happening, even more than he was himself, and he rose to his feet with a smile. "Come on, little brother," he said gently and offered Danny a hand up. "Let's get you cleaned up."
~~End.
Author: Kathie
Rating: FRT-13
Warnings: AU, maybe some slightly disturbing images with blood?
Disclaimer: Not mine…
Summary: Monsters exist in many forms, he told Danny.
Author's Notes: Follows Ghosthunting and One of the Good Guys.
Challenge and Prompt:
10_what_ifs, Table Supernatural, Prompt: 3. MonstersBeta: Ginny. *hugs* Thank you, for graciously not struggling too much when I made you read this one. *huggles*
"Monsters exist in many forms," Sheldon pointed out with a small secretive smile as he looked in the rear view mirror. "Not all of them go bump in the night."
It was, Danny thought, as if they were still sitting at home, a chess board in between them, and discussed the deep philosophical questions Hawkes was so fond of.
But they weren't.
"Go bump in the night?" he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief, and pressed his left hand tighter to the deep cut in his right forearm. He was pale, his skin ashen and with dark bruises already forming on his cheek and around his throat.
"Yeah," Sheldon smiled. He seemed relaxed, but his breath came in short, shallow gasps, and his fingers tightened reflexively around the steering wheel of the car.
"Hey," Don gasped softly and shifted slightly. "Stop breathing, doc!"
Sheldon snorted sharply. "I'm a vampire, Flack, not dead," he answered flatly. "I need oxygen just like you do."
Don didn't answer, and Shel checked the mirror again with growing worry.
"Hold on, we'll be there in a minute," he whispered through clenched teeth. "We're almost there."
The smell of blood was almost overwhelming in the small confines of Danny's car, and Sheldon pushed the gas pedal to the floor. He could feel the hunger tugging at the edges of his consciousness, the deep pain in his stomach.
His teeth hurt.
It had been too long since he'd tasted the blood of a young human. He hadn't forgotten the taste. No vampire ever did. He remembered drinking from a helpless human, the hot pulsing of blood, with every panicked, or every calm heartbeat. He remembered the warmth spreading from his mouth, pharynx, esophagus, stomach to every part of his body, until it tingled in his fingertips, how alive it made him feel…
"Hawkes!"
He blinked. His teeth pulsed with every beat of his weak heartbeats, he tasted his own blood on his tongue from where he'd bitten through his lip without even noticing it.
It was everywhere. And it was getting more and more intense with every drop of blood his precious burden was losing.
"You back with us?" Danny snapped, and Hawkes nodded and forced a smile on his face. It felt like a grimace, but he figured that Danny didn't particularly care about it right now.
"Good. Concentrate."
Danny's voice trembled slightly, from tiredness and stress, and probably from the blood loss as well, but there was a hint of steel underneath it that told Hawkes exactly what Mac meant when he said that Danny had potential.
Sheldon could taste the pain and the near-panic in the air. Danny was at the edge of what he could take. Sheldon's heightened vampire senses reacted to that desperation with wild hunger.
Yes, he thought, the situation had quickly turned from horribly wrong to something that was even worse.
"We're almost there," he managed to say; he even managed to make his voice appear low and soothing, a trick every vampire learned early in life – the power of seduction.
"Doc!" Danny gasped. "Right now I don't care if monsters go bump in the night or dance on the table, dressed in Stella's best dress. I can't feel him anymore!"
This, Hawkes knew, was pure, full-blown panic. "Hold on," he yelled, all finesse forgotten. "We're here. One minute, Danny, I swear, on my mother's grave!"
Danny laughed.
It wasn't merriment.
It was desperation.
Hawkes stopped the car in a spray of pebbles in front of a perfectly ordinary house and jumped out. He allowed himself three precious seconds to take a lungful of fresh night air with no traces of blood before he opened the door and lifted the long-limbed, unconscious, bleeding body out.
The smell of living blood was attacking his nerves again, battering against the thin shield of his self-control.
Sheldon smiled grimly. Living blood. It wasn't too late, then.
Carefully he carried the body to the door. A young woman, barely grown-up, already awaited him.
"Dad's in the basement," she said without preamble. "He's waiting for you."
Shel nodded and went down the stairs.
It really was an advantage to be a vampire and have the strength to effortlessly lift heavy weights, he thought quietly.
Sid was already waiting for him, dressed in scrubs, with everything he needed laid out. Carefully Sheldon put the body he was carrying on one of the steel tables before stepping back.
He didn't need to worry about it anymore. It wasn't his responsibility anymore.
No.
He slowly went upstairs again to pull Danny out of the car and bring him inside, to stop him from hyperventilating and from doing something incredibly stupid.
He had to make sure they hadn't left traces. He had to make sure their work was completed.
He had to call Stella.
His fingers were slick and sticky with the blood he hadn't washed off, and instinctively he lifted them up to stare at them as if he'd never seen them before.
Blood was sticking to the pads of his fingers, clinging to the fine ridges and valleys in his skin. It was mixed blood, both from Don and Danny, he could smell them both in it.
He didn't realize he was doing it until the tip of his tongue touched it and the taste exploded over his senses like fireworks.
This was bad. He knew the signs, he knew that he needed blood in order not to lose his mind. And he had to stay away from Don and Danny. Their blood talked to him now, speaking of anger, of pain, of faint traces of memories.
It was all in their blood.
A wave of anger and disgust gripped him.
Monsters exist in many forms, he'd told Danny, and he knew that was right. Monsters didn't always have nine eyes, sharp teeth, and six arms.
Monsters didn't always have lines of stitches all over their body, to prevent arms and legs from falling off.
Sometimes, monsters were normal, every day people, who seemed harmless and innocent to the observing eye, until they went ballistic and beat up their wives and kids in the basement, or shot at people who tried to free them from supernatural phenomena, good people who didn't mean them any harm.
And sometimes, he thought while methodically cleaning every trace of blood from his hands, feeling the roughness of his own tongue, monsters were exactly what they looked like.
Vampires.
Demons.
Goblins.
Monsters.
"Hawkes! Doc!" Danny snapped his fingers in front of Sheldon's face. "Wake up!"
"I'm awake, Danny," he answered automatically, although he had no idea how long Danny had been standing there.
"Good."
A cup was thrust into his cold fingers. "Drink."
Offering no resistance – he didn't have the strength left – Hawkes took a sip and shuddered when the liquid raced down his throat, into his body, revitalizing him, blossoming warmly through his body.
It was not enough, it never was, but it helped him re-establish control over himself. He didn't even pay attention to the taste.
He just drank the blood.
"You're welcome," Danny cockily replied and sat down next to him.
He'd taken off his shirt and tried to wash off most of the blood. His arm was still wrapped with the makeshift bandage.
Sheldon sniffed carefully. There was more than one source of blood.
Two.
Puzzle pieces fell in place and formed a new picture that didn't make any sense to him.
"Why?" he asked and grabbed Danny's hand to inspect the fresh cut in his palm.
Danny shrugged. "Because of what you've told me," he answered. "About monsters."
He smiled awkwardly. "You aren't one of them," he explained. "You might be a lot, but you're no monster, Sheldon Hawkes. That much I know for sure."
Sheldon chuckled softly. "We need to talk about that little ability of yours. Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Again Danny shrugged. "Why didn't you tell us that your doctor friend is a zombie?"
"It didn't matter."
Danny only smirked, and Shel asked: "So you've met Sid?"
"No," Danny admitted. "But I know nonetheless. His daughter, she told me Don's going to be fine."
Sheldon nodded and lifted Danny's bleeding hand to his mouth. He took a deep breath.
"You're talented," he murmured. "Why did you panic so much in the car?"
Danny squirmed. "For a second," he explained quietly, "his line ended, and I couldn't feel him anymore. That's all. Why did you swear on your mother's grave?"
Shel realized that Danny didn't want to talk about his abilities, and he allowed him to change topics.
For now.
"She doesn't use it that often," he answered instead. "I figured she didn't need it today."
He pressed a short kiss into Danny's palm, licking away the blood and strengthening the bond that had formed the second he'd swallowed the first drop of Danny's life essence. Danny's eyes followed every one of his moves, but he didn't pull back. Sheldon knew that Danny was aware of what was happening, even more than he was himself, and he rose to his feet with a smile. "Come on, little brother," he said gently and offered Danny a hand up. "Let's get you cleaned up."
~~End.