Wolverines

When Hunter heard the news, it took his brain a little while to catch up with his ears. He’d asked the caller “what?!” about four times before the message came in.

He remembered the world tilting alarmingly, and from there on things were sketchy. When the world finally started making sense again he was on his bedroom floor, curled up in Amon’s lap with his face squished into the Vampire’s chest as far as it would go, like an ostrich trying to hide its head in the ground.

His mouth tasted rank, like bile, and it wasn’t until he heard the Vampire’s murmurs, felt the hand stroking his back in soothing circles that he realized he was sobbing. He sniffled wetly, trying to get it together.

“… What happened?” He managed finally, voice hoarse from puking and crying.

Amon looked down at him, his face carefully blank. “You don’t remember?”

“No, I – the phone call…” The phone call! Hunter shuddered and the sound of his blood rushing through his ears drowned Amon out. He could see the Vampire’s lips moving, but couldn’t seem to hear a word.

“Hunter? Are you listening?” Hunter blinked, suddenly able to hear Amon’s voice again. The Vampire was gently wiping the tears from his face and stroking his hair. Hunter nodded dumbly, staring up at him. “Nancy’s boss phoned you as her emergency contact.” He cuddled his Thrall close and rocked him gently, “There was an accident two blocks from where she works…”

The world tilted unsteadily again and Hunter lost focus for a moment. He reached a hand up to his head, uncaring that his skin felt fever hot.

“… died on impact…”

“… fuck.”

Amon sighed softly as Hunter went limp in his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to the human’s temple. This wasn’t exactly how he’d planned for their night to go.

“This is all your fault.” Ben said, voice sounding flat. He was sitting on Hunter’s bed and staring into space. After Hunter had dropped the phone and Amon had picked him up, Ben had taken the call instead. The human had been sitting on the bed staring since he hung up; if Amon hadn’t been able to hear both sides of the conversation he wouldn’t have had a clue what was going on.

“Excuse me?” Amon asked, not bothering to look up as he kept rocking Hunter gently.

“We were doing okay. Everything was fine until you came here.” Ben stood up then and loomed over the Vampire. “We were friends, and Hunter and Nancy loved each other, and we worked and we were close and our lives were good. And then you – you – you just show up here, and change everything. You want to steal Hunter away from us. You – you want him alllll to yourself, and you – you killed her. I don’t know how you did it, but you fucking killed her!”

Unfair, for once. “Woah, calm the fuck down, Ben. I didn’t kill Nancy, are you crazy?” His grip on Hunter turned more protective than comforting as the dead look on Ben’s face didn’t change. Ben pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and started taking pictures of him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Amon demanded.

Ben didn’t reply. Click, whiizz zoo came repeatedly from his phone as he mashed the button to take the pictures.

Amon tried for logic, “Look, be fucking reasonable, if I was going to kill anyone to get them away from Hunter, obviously it would be you! So could you please just settle the fuck down! Stop taking pictures, what’s wrong with you??”

Ben shook his head slowly and finally put his cell phone in his pocket, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.” The human turned and strode purposefully out of the bedroom.

“Ben? Ben! Get the fuck back here! Shit,” Amon swore and stood up, holding Hunter’s limp form easily. He gently laid the human down on the messy bad and tossed a blanket over him. He made it to the living room in time to hear the front door slam. Ben didn’t bother locking it behind him.

Amon hesitated then, torn. He looked from the front door, to back down the hall, to back again.

“Fuck!” He finally swore, and stormed back down to the bedroom. The Don’s woeful voice followed him from the living room: “Look how they massacred my boy…”

***

Ben walked quickly from the apartment building, almost jogging as he made it down the side walk. He had to move quickly; the Vampire might be chasing him, and Ben had many things to do that he didn’t want Amon interfering with.

Thoughts of Nancy invaded his thoughts, and he pushed them right back out. Amon. All of this had started with Amon.

He stormed down the street, rudely shoving a man out of his way when the man failed to move fast enough. Couldn’t he see Ben had things to do! Ben had things to do!

For a long while he kept up the pace. It was cold out, but Ben hardly noticed the way his skin broke out in goose bumps and his nose began to run. He agonized over who he was going to contact first. The media? The FBI? Ben had been worried at first that Amon wouldn’t show up in the photographs, but he had. And now Ben had him. Should he take the photos to the police? If nothing else Amon was registered as a missing person.

Foolish, he thought, that the Vampire had given him his real name. He began to laugh then, not seeing the strange looks people gave him as they moved out of his way. But what good would it do! Ben paused at that, laughter dying on his lips. What was the media and police going to do? Call him crazy! And that blood sucking bastard would walk.

No. There was only one way to end this. Ben had to… He had to…

The reality of the situation his Ben full force then and he doubled over, barely making it towards a stinking bus stop trash can before retching violently. His stomach heaved as though it were fighting a war with itself, and the victor was body slamming the loser up Ben’s throat and gushing from his mouth. He choked on his bile and coughed violently, tears running down his face. He shoulders shook in a quiet sob then, and he didn’t realize he whimpered until after the sound had left him.

Had he really been… Murder…

A warm hand rested down on his back and the thoughts were banished away as easily as a hand disperses smoke by waving through it. Ben turned to look up at large, grey-blue eyes. Ben watched them for a moment, mesmerized as they seemed to change colours; one moment they were blue, another grey.

“Are you okay?” The owner of those strange eyes asked him. Ben responded to the gentle inquiry by turning and retching in the garbage can again. The warm hand on his back kneaded his shoulder gently as Ben sobbed again, “Shhh. It’s going to be okay. Are you sick?”

Ben shook his head slowly, not trusting himself to speak.

“Are you hurt?” Came the next question. Again, Ben shook his head. “Drunk? Drugged?” Ben shook his head until he thought it might just roll off his neck. The next question gave him pause: “Are you sad?” Ben muffled another sob and nodded. What else could he do?

“It’s going to be okay.” The warmth in other man’s voice was so sincere that for a moment Ben almost believed him. “Come inside.” Ben found he didn’t have it in him to protest as he was led inside, mind roaming back to what he was going to do about Amon. He barely noticed as he was led past a confused receptionist, and into a dim room. Ben was sat down on a table, and realized moments later that there was weird ambient music playing.

He sniffled and looked around the room as the other man closed the door. He looked down at the table he was sitting on, and realized it was covered in sheets and a had a pillow placed near the end. Weird. He stroked his fingers over the soft fabric.

“… Am I in a massage parlour?” He asked. It didn’t even occur to him how bizarre this was.

The owner of the blue-grey eyes walked back over and gave him the mildest, sweetest smile he’d ever seen, “We prefer massage therapy clinic, but yes. Do you want to lie down?”

“I don’t have any money.” Ben stared, stupefied as the young man moved around the table until he was standing behind him. Long fingered hands, surprisingly strong reached up to knead his shoulders. Ben leaned back into the warm touch, resisting the need to sob again.

“Neither do I.” Came the amused reply.

“I can’t pay you,” Ben insisted.

“I can’t charge you.” The young man countered. Ben sighed, unresisting as he was laid down on the table.


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A/N Two chapters in one night! Yeeaah so this chapter is a little weird I think, but then again some fucked up shit is going down and they're a little confused, to say the least. Out of curiosity, do the short chapters bother anyone? Or would you rather I update less often and just post longer chapters?

@JtheChosen1: Personally I like the term "dick" for Amon, I think it suits him =D As for Benjamin, well... He does seem to be having a breakdown and going on the warpath, doesn't he? You'll just have to keep reading to see how that pans out... ;)