Blood Ties

Title: Granite Lullabies: Part 2
Summary: Secrets revealed
Impliments: Brush
Feedback: PLEASE!!!!
Warnings: Emotional breakdown
Acknowledgements: Thank you yet again to those of you who have left me reviews! I know that part three is taking a long time and I'm REALLY sorry! It is becoming a lot longer than I had intended and has a lot of emotional impact which is just really hard for me to write right now. Well, hopefully it will be up soon.

Blood Ties


Granite Lullabies Part 2


They arrived at the old Tudor style home and he was led inside and directly upstairs to their Sire’s rooms. The boy was not surprised by this at all. He was positive that Arlis had ‘sent’ some form of message ahead, but how much information he had provided about the night’s events was questionable. He slowed as they approached the open doorway and swallowed a groan when he looked through it.

Paulos was sitting in his favorite and most comfortable armchair that was placed before the currently empty fireplace. There was no doubt that he knew he had visitors, as well as who they were, but he was refusing to acknowledge them. Armand had seen the Master sitting so many times before as he waited for one of his errant childer to arrive and knew the night was NOT going to end pleasantly.

Just HOW unpleasantly was up for debate. It was a given that a simple hand spanking wouldn’t cut it, but which implement would be used was a question Armand didn’t relish having answered. A momentary flash of terror filled him at the thought of the cane he had experienced only the one other time, but it passed when he realized it was highly unlikely to be used.

Thought of the cane and its last use also brought its own flash of guilt. It had never been acknowledged, but that entire series of incidences had actually been the beginnings of a path that led directly to this week and he had never intended to get his friend involved, even if it had ended well. He had also barely spoken to his closest friend at all over the last week. Steve was the ONLY person the teenager had ever confided the entire truth of his past and his guilt to. He was grateful yet again that Steve was as understanding of the situation as he was. The blonde was careful not to push and only silently offered his support each year during this time.

Steve was his closest friend, and, Armand reminded himself, now even more. The next evening following the fateful night at the club, Paulos had created a blood bond with human. He had also insisted that the two boys exchange blood as well, though the halfling still didn’t fully understand why. For a moment he directed his mind to the extra little clump of distant emotions that now resided there unobtrusively. There was some anxiety and nervousness, but nothing to cause worry though Armand did decide to ask his friend about it at a later date.

He was slightly unclear as to exactly what the blonde was to him now. ‘Brother’ didn’t seem right at all, but he was definitely more than ‘friend’. Paulos said that the boy had become what the vampire Court called an Agent. A human that was allowed full knowledge that vampires existed and often assisted with daytime activities that must be accomplished. It was rather rare now that one be created because of vampires’ natural and well deserved mistrust of humans, but now one had been excepted into Paulos’s ‘family’, seemingly without reservation.

The boy jumped when the Sire’s voice suddenly came from the room, yanking him from his thoughts and back to the present. “Arlis says you have something to tell me.”

He winced at the wording and realized that the vampire had left it to him to tell their Master just what he had done to himself. Stumbling over the two simple words he finally managed to get out, “Y-Yes, S-Sir.”

With a wave of his hand the elder vampire summoned his youngest to his side. He was completely unsurprised when the halfling approached and wordlessly held out his roughly bound and blood stained arm. He always knew the moment Armand entered the house because he had the immediately identifiable smell of ‘human’ but it was muted and somewhat covered by something that shouted ‘vampire’ to any supernatural being. Until he was turned he would wear a scent marking that would tell anyone that could smell it exactly who the boy belonged to.

But tonight his scent had been mostly that of blood and he had guessed what had occurred almost immediately. If he had needed any more proof that the boy would become an incredibly strong vampire, this would do it. The bond between he and the halfling was not nearly as strong as it was between he and his childer, but he still should be able to feel the strongest of emotions. Not even a full vampire and already capable of blocking his Sire sufficiently to damage himself. He was glad that this would be the last year for such occurrences. After the teenagers graduation his transformation would be completed.

But for now there was the current situation to deal with. A glance and nod towards Arlis had the young vampire retreating from the room to feed. Paulos could feel his childe’s hunger and thought to reward him later for his self-control during the situation. He turned back to the halfling with an inquisitive look.

“Well? Let’s see just how much damage you did,” the vampire instructed. Armand refused to meet the Master’s eyes but obediently began removing the makeshift bandages before holding out his arm for inspection. A quick glance told the vampire that none of the wounds were serious and he silently rose to retrieve a wet washcloth from the bathroom. Returning to the youngling he wiped away the drying blood, ignoring when the arm’s owner sucked in his breath with a hiss and winced when the cloth ran over the closing wounds and reopened them.

Paulos watched small amounts of blood flow from the wound for only a moment before lowering his head to lick it away. It didn’t take long before the blood stopped flowing, but Armand’s whimpers of pain changed to ones of pleasure at the first lick. When the blood stopped flowing, so did he and he hid a chuckle at the whine he received. Now was not the time.

“Are you allowed to harm yourself, Armand,” the Sire asked sternly. The boy only shook his head, never raising his eyes. Paulos reached out quickly and gave him a hard swat. “I can’t hear you.”

“N-No, Master. I’m not allowed to harm myself,” the teen stated with a wince.

“Do you think, for one moment, that I am not capable of giving you pain if you need it?”

Armand’s eyes finally came up in guilty surprise. “No, Sire. I-I know that you could help me if I asked.” He blushed then. Paulos HAD in fact helped him in exactly that way for the two previous years. But asking for the pain he craved so badly came hard to him. As much as he needed it, he was also ashamed, even though he had been told repeatedly that there was no need to be.

“You knowingly harmed yourself when you knew I could provide release for you.” The vampires eyes and voice were stern, but understanding. “You HAVE to trust me, Armand.”

The boy opened his mouth to vigorously deny the implied accusation, but slowly closed it when he realized that he couldn’t do so honestly. He dropped his eyes and felt a single tear escape to run down his cheek. He had hidden many things from the man he claimed to trust and love. But to tell even his Master the truth about himself was unthinkable. Ruthlessly he shoved his emotions back behind their wall and told his need to reveal all to take a hike.

The vampire only shook his head when violet eyes looked into his with newfound resolve. He had only seen this look a few times before, but knew all too well what it meant. He knew it would do little good, but instructed the halfling to get the hairbrush anyways since any break in routine would only make the boy feel even more insecure.

When the teenager knelt before him, hairbrush in hand, he wasted little time in bringing him to his feet and over cloth clad knees after swiftly pulling down the loose jeans he wore. He didn’t bother with any warm-ups with his hand this time, only smacking down the hairbrush on the pale white rump. Except for a gasp at the very first swat there was no sound other than the back of the ebony hairbrush meeting flesh and Paulos knew there wouldn‘t be.. He swiftly placed fifteen strikes on the soon red rear and knew that, without the warm-up, there would be some temporary bruising, but he didn’t hold back. Weakness was not what his fledgling needed.

After the last stroke he slowly allowed the young man to slip to the floor. Face twisted in a grimace of pain and tears flooding down his face, Armand still kept his lips pressed closely together lest a stray sound escape them. Paulos didn’t press, only held the young man’s head against his knee and offered wordless comfort in return. When his breathing had slowed and the tears stopped he helped him to return his clothing to their correct positions before speaking.

“Tell me why Armand.” Nothing more was needed. For six years they had had some form of this discussion during this week of every year. Stiffly, but resolutely, Armand stood and began pacing a slow path around the room. Moving seemed to help him to think and he had too much nervous energy to try to prevent himself from doing so. Once again he tried to explain, careful to never allow eye contact, looking into a past only he could see.

“It still hurts. Its been six years, but it still hurts as if it had happened yesterday. I HAD to go to school that day. If I had stayed home, there isn’t any reason to think it wouldn’t have happened anyways. Everything had seemed fine when I left.” The oft repeated words seemed hollow even to him. He didn’t really believe them, never had, but he knew it was what he was expected to say. They were convincing, however. He only wished that he could convince himself.

He still remembered that morning all too well. Getting up at the first beep of the alarm lest it wake anyone else. Showering and dressing as quietly as possible even though it wasn’t likely he would wake his drug and alcohol addled parents. But there was still the chance a stray sound would do so and it wasn’t one he was willing to take. One last look into the bedroom next to his with a fond smile at the only thing that made life worth living before walking out the door.

“I was only eleven years old after all,” Armand continued tonelessly. “I couldn’t have done anything anyways. It wouldn’t have made difference even if I had known what would happen.” Again the repeated words that the psychologists had tried to convince him were true.

Paulos looked at the teenager who was so carefully NOT looking at him and had a revelation. Every year of the last six he had heard the same words or their equivalent the last week of September. He had made sure the boy received counseling, even if he was skeptical that mortals could do much, and it had seemed to have done its job for the most part. Only now did he realize how well he had been deceived. What little bit of a bond he had with the halfling would always be muddy until he was completely turned, but he still should have been able to pick up some hint of this.

“Your punishing yourself.” The statement caused startled and suddenly anxious blue-purple eyes to meet his. “You don’t believe a word that you just said,” he added firmly. There were four words that the boy had NEVER uttered in regards to this topic, and he should have known the truth by their lack. His unbeating heart ached when he realized that maybe no one had ever bothered to say them.

“Armand,” he said with as much sincerity as he could as he looked into the boy’s pleading eyes, “It wasn’t your fault.” At the words, the teens entire body tensed.

Shaking his head in denial, the boy backed away from the reassurance that was offered, secure in his own guilt. He opened his mouth to offer a denial or possibly agreement, he wasn’t sure which, but couldn’t seem to make his voice work. Of the few things he was sure of in his life, this had been key. He was guilty, beyond a doubt. He could deny the events of that day in many ways, but he had never been able to dare to state clearly that fault did not lie with him. Finally he could no longer hold back the truth.

“It wasn’t your fault,” the vampire said again.

“No….” the word was more plea than denial. “No, y-you don’t understand. I-I should have been t-there.” Armand backed up further as tears began to pour down unhindered, but the Master didn’t pursue him. “There had to be SOMETHING I could have d-done!” The halfling’s entire body was beginning to shake with emotion now as he wrapped his slender arms around himself.

Paulos recognized what was happening in the boys heart and mind and quickly called in reinforcements. Again he calmly stated the truth that had been denied for far too long. “It wasn’t your fault.”

The beautiful lavender eyes squeezed shut but couldn’t stop the constant rain of tears from continuing. He had survived for so long behind his self built walls of guilt and self-hatred that he was terrified of having those walls destroyed. “I said I’d always be there,” he yelled as he tried to hold back his sobs. “I swore that I would protect him! I told him I wouldn‘t leave him! I promised that I would never let that bastard hurt him!”

Finally the teen’s pain wracked and anguish filled body gave out. The vampire was glad for his supernatural speed as he darted across the room to enfold the sobbing boy in his arms. As he did he was grateful to see his childer arrive in his doorway and begin to take in the situation. Paulos held the boy as tight as he dared and rocked him. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said yet again. “You didn’t kill your brother.”