Chapter Text
When Michael woke up, he was alone. Shoving his face into the pillow, he groaned, trying to escape the rays of sunshine that had creeped into the room. Opening his eyes, he found that he wasn’t in his bedroom, but rather, the old hotel. Quickly pushing himself up, he looked around, hissing in pain as the light hit his eyes. After a brief minute of confusion, the events of the night prior came rushing back, sending chills down his spine. Searching around the bed and the ground nearby, Michael grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on, determined to high tail it out of there as fast as possible. Squinting and shielding his eyes as best he could, he practically crawled out of the hotel. Though he had just woken up, Michael felt drained and exhausted, his legs barely strong enough to get him up the old stairs.
Looking around for his bike, he saw it parked near some rocks away from the main road, thankful that Paul had found a way to get it back there. Grunting in pain as the sun shone into his eyes, he kicked up the stand on his bike and threw a leg over the side, taking a moment to steady himself before he sat down and took off down the road, going slower than he would’ve liked. With his eyes practically closed, and the sun beaming down on him, Michael could hardly see where he was going, swerving off the road occasionally. All he could do was hope that he made it home relatively safely.
Michael knew that his mom didn’t work as much as she did during the summer since the boardwalk was almost baren during the day, save for a few kids playing hookie, but he didn’t expect her to be home as he pulled up to the driveway. Quietly maneuvering himself to the side of the house, he leaned his bike up against the wall, hoping that no one heard the engine. Creeping around the the back door, Michael slowly opened the door, thankful that they usually kept it unlocked. Peeking his head in, he made sure the coast was clear before stepping in, silently closing the door behind him. With the direct sunlight off of him, he felt a little better, but it wasn’t by much. He still felt exhausted and it took all the strength he could muster to get himself up the stairs. Slipping into his room and being extra cautious to not make noise, Michael shut the door behind him and stumbled over to the bed, falling to his knees at its side. Pressing his face into the mattress, he sighed, longing to haul himself up and drift away on the comfortable bed. He knew he couldn’t be seen, however, and elected to completely drop to the floor, rolling under the bed to hide in the shadows.
The hard floor wasn’t Michael’s favorite place to lie down on, but he couldn’t think of any other options at that moment. The sun still slightly seeped into the room, but it wasn’t enough to bother him, and the bed provided enough shelter that the light wouldn’t touch him. His exhaustion finally getting the better of him, he felt his body relax as his breathing slowed, eyelids growing heavy as the need for sleep overtook him. Scooching closer to the cold wall, Michael let himself go to sleep, hoping that Sam wouldn’t find him curled up under there.
The universe must have heard his pleas, because when Michael woke up, his room had grown cold and dark, his slumber left undisturbed. With a groan, he slid out from under the bed and sat up, letting out a sigh as he felt his bones crack when he stretched. Standing up, he moved to the door, pressing his ear against the wood to see if there was anyone out there. Hearing a couple voices in conversation, he listened closer, curious as to what they were saying.
“-just don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“He’ll come around soon, Lucy. It’s his senior year, he’s just having his fun.”
“It’s just,” there was a brief pause in the conversation. “Ever since-”
“He’s going to be okay.” Michael stepped away from the door, his lips pressed into a tight line. Gently pressing his forehead to the door, he sighed, closing his eyes as he deflated. He knew he couldn’t stay there, but he couldn’t face going back to the hotel. Gritting his teeth, he took a sharp inhale before glancing over to his window. Pushing himself away from the door, he moved closer, pulling the strings on the blinds to roll them up and get them out of the way; he opened the window and felt the cool breeze hit his cheeks. Looking down at the ground below him, nervousness pooling in his stomach, the thought of dropping that far wasn’t too appealing. It reminded him of that night on the bridge, except there was no one down there to catch him this time. He just had to hit the ground and get himself far away from there as possible. With a deep breath, he prepared to jump.
“Mike?” Sam’s voice was quiet, but it hit Michael like a train. He froze in his spot, not daring to look back at his brother. “Mike, what are you doing? Where have you been?” As Sam continued to ask questions, Michael felt his head growing lighter, his grip on the sides of the window sill tightening. He could hear Sam’s heartbeat in his ears, his mouth watering and the urge to attack building up inside him.
“Get away, Sammy.” His voice was low, his throat getting tighter as he spoke. “You can’t tell Mom I was here. No one can know.”
“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
“I have to leave, Sammy, and I don’t need Mom or the cops on my trail, okay?” Sam was silent for a moment, and Michael clenched his jaw, the sound of Sam’s heartbeat growing more tempting by the second.
“Are you doing drugs, Mike? Is that why you’re leaving? Are you in trouble?” Michael began to slightly shake, using all his effort to keep from turning around draining his brother right then and there.
“It doesn’t matter. You just gotta promise me that you won’t tell anyone.”
“What if I can’t?”
“You have to, Sammy. You have to.” Michael looked out into the street, trying to find something to focus on besides his brother. He knew that Sam wouldn’t be able to keep his promise, but he hoped that he could keep it long enough that he could get far away from Santa Carla.
“Look at me, Mike.”
“No.”
“Goddamn it, Mike. You sneak around, you don’t even come home sometimes, and now you’re in here asking me to keep some secret for you. At least have the decency to look at me when you’re talking.” Sam’s voice had raised significantly and Michael’s body tensed with dread, worried that his mom or grandpa would hear him yelling.
“I can’t, Sammy.” His voice cracked as he heard Sam step closer to him. “Don’t come any closer!” He wouldn’t be able to stop himself if he got his hands on him, so he wanted to keep as much distance between him and Sam as possible. Sam was behind him, the sound of his blood almost unbearable.
“Mike,” he spoke softly, and Michael could feel his presence get closer.
“Don’t-” Sam grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Michael turned to face him and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pushing him down to the wooden floorboards, kneeling above him. He didn’t even need a mirror to see that he had vamped out; Sam’s horrified expression and racing heartbeat said enough. Michael looked down at his brother, the smell and the deafening sound of his blood nearly drove him crazy. His nails tore holes into Sam’s shirt as he gripped the fabric tighter, trying to ground himself and pull himself away. Breathing in deeply, he pressed his nose to his brother’s neck, nearly drooling at the thought of fresh blood.
“Mike?” Sam’s voice was soft and broken, scared. Michael immediately pulled himself away, letting go of his shirt and scrambling backwards on the floor. He caught Sam’s eye and they stared at each other for only a second before Michael jolted upwards and hopped up into the window, letting himself fall to the ground and disappearing out of sight. Ducking into the shadows, he raced around the house a retrieved the bike he had left and made his way back towards the street, taking off into the darkness.
Michael didn’t have a plan on where he was going, he just knew that he had to get away from that town. However, the further he got from Santa Carla, the heavier his heart felt. At first he had chalked it up to him missing his family and didn’t think much about it, but there was something deeper tugging at him, some primal sense of longing that he couldn’t quite understand. His chest felt tight and his whole body tensed, realization hitting him like a brick. David. He was tied to the pack and his instincts were telling him to go back. As tempting as it was, Michael knew that he couldn’t face them. He didn’t want to be a killer, which he knew that if he stayed with them, he would inevitably become. The sting in his heart nearly making him keel over in pain, but he pushed forward, using every last ounce of willpower in his body not to turn his bike around.
As the sun was beginning to rise, Michael felt himself growing weaker, his vision was blurry and his whole body trembled. He knew he needed to rest soon, but he had no idea where he was. He’d been driving for hours and couldn’t seem to remember a single landmark that he’d passed. The only thing that he was grateful for about the quiet back roads that he had taken was the fact that there seemed to be plenty of old, abandoned shacks that sat along the side of the road. Deciding that he would stop at the next one that appeared, Michael slowed down, letting his exhaustion take over him for a bit. As the next building neared, Michael drifted to the side of the road and pulled off onto the dirt path that led up to the shack.
Using what little power he had left, Michael busted down the back door and made his way inside, groaning at the lack of furniture. It wasn’t that he was expecting the small shack to be furnished, he was just hoping that he wouldn’t have to sleep on the hard floor again. With a sigh, he found a relatively shady corner of the building and dropped to his knees, finding the most comfortable position he could so he could get decent sleep.
For the first time in a long while, Michael didn’t dream. Though he was asleep, he could still feel the aching in his heart from being so far away from the boys. After all those nights of begging to not have dreams, to be away from David and his touch, Michael found himself craving to see him in a dream. He wanted to indulge without having to face real life consequences, which is why he guessed he wasn’t dreaming then; it was some sort of punishment. Tossing and turning in his unconscious state, Michael felt more lonely huddled up in that corner than he ever had before. He just hoped that when night fell again, he’d be able to find something to occupy himself with.
When Michael finally awoke, the sun had just gone down and he felt no more rested than he did before he went to sleep. With a groan, he just sprawled out on the floor, shoving his cheek into the accumulated dust and dirt. His heart and his mind were at constant war and Michael found that he was both restless, but entirely too lethargic to do anything. His mind told him to hop on his bike and ride as far East as he could, so that he wouldn’t be tempted to go back to Sam and face his family. On the other hand, his heart pulled him back to Santa Carla, towards his family, but more importantly, his pack. He knew that the further he traveled from the old hotel, the more painful the sting in his chest would be and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to be so far from them. He didn’t want to join them of course, but he wanted, no, he needed the sense of security that came with being with them. He needed to feel their presence with him always and Michael hated it. He hated himself for letting his guard down, but he hated himself more for the fact that he would do it all over again, just to feel David’s touch.
Whining, Michael curled himself into a ball, still stuck on a decision of what to do. He laid his palm out flat on the dirty floorboards and dug his nails into the old wood, gritting his teeth as he turned his head, smearing more dirt across his face as he did so. He knew that he’d have to go somewhere eventually, the stabbing pain in his stomach telling him that he was hungry, but Michael knew what that meant for him, and he absolutely did not want that. As tempting as it was, even just to get rid of the constant burning in his stomach, he didn’t want to be a murderer. He closed his eyes and let out a scream, somehow folding in on himself more than he previously had. There were so many thoughts and feelings rushing through Michael and he trembled, not being able to understand or control anything. A warm sensation flooded his chest, a wave of relaxation washing over him for a quick second. The feeling of cold rubber pressed firmly against Michael’s fingers caused him to open his eyes, finding himself looking at a familiar boot gently stepping on his hand. Without even having to look up, Michael knew who it was and let out a shaky breath.
“David?” The boot pressed down slightly harder on Michael’s fingers, causing him to wince, even though he wasn’t in pain. Crouching, David looked Michael in the eye, a hard look of disappointment on his face.
“Thought your days of fighting this were over, Michael.” The way David spat his name sent shivers down his spine and Michael writhed on the ground, continuing to stare into David’s blue eyes.
“I can’t. Sammy.” Michael’s words were short and raspy, strained almost. David’s usual smirk morphed into a wicked grin and he reached out to comb his fingers through Michael’s tangled hair. Michael looked up at him with wide eyes, moving his head to lean into his touch.
“What happened with the kid? Tell me all about it, Michael,” David purred, a sick look of excitement in his eyes. Michael clenched his jaw and shook his head, not wanting to picture Sam’s terrified face, but David coaxed him out of his silence, offering promises of relief and catharsis. Though Michael knew the promises were broken from the start, he indulged David and let the words fall from his lips.
As he whispered the story to David, Michael’s thoughts were consumed with what could have happened if he didn’t walk away. Images of Sam’s blood splattered across the room filled his mind and even though his gut reaction was to recoil in disgust, there was some predatory, instinctual urge to wonder further, wonder how good Sam’s blood would’ve tasted if Michael had attacked him in that room and drained him. His fingers dug into the wood, knuckles pushing against the sole of David’s boot as he clawed at the floor. An overwhelming thirst took over Michael and he whined, broken and pitiful. The burning sensation in his stomach returned tenfold and he stared up at David, mouth open and a mantra of pleas on his tongue. David grinned down at him, moving his hand from Michael’s hair down to his cheek, swiping his thumb over his cracked bottom lip.
“David,” Michael rasped out, eyes scrunching up in pain. He received a hum in response and he shuddered, parting his lips more as David ran his thumb around his mouth. “M’so thirsty.” With an amused laugh, David responded.
“And what do you want me to do about that?” Michael groaned at David’s response, which only elicited a wider grin. “We’re miles away from the nearest town and you’re here, face down in the dirt in some run down shack.” As he spoke, his thumb moved past Michael’s lips and into his mouth, resting flatly on his tongue. Michael’s lips wrapped around David’s thumb, not quite sure what David expected him to do. “You know you have to feed, Michael.” He immediately shook his head and whined, though the sound was mostly muffled. “You’ll die if you don’t.” Michael pulled his head away, David’s thumb slipping out of his mouth with ease.
“I’d rather die than become a murder like you.” David rolled his eyes and went back to petting his hair, being less gentle however.
“No you wouldn’t, you’re being dramatic. Look at you! You’re pathetic, Michael.” Michael didn’t answer back, instead he just huffed and laid his head back down on the ground. “You’re telling me that instead of just letting go and giving in, you’d rather us leave and let you lay here and waste away? You want to be left for dead and spend the rest of your short little life here, in this disgusting building, alone and miserable?”
“No,” Michael whispered, not wanting David to leave his side. Of course he didn’t want to die alone, but he especially didn’t want to feel the hollowness in his chest if the boys left.
“No?”
“Don’t leave me here, David.” Michael sighed and used all his effort to drag himself closer to David’s side, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Help me,” was all he could say, knowing that he was giving in and that David would be reveling in it. David moved his thumb back over Michael’s lips and waited for him to open his mouth. When he received a confused look in return, he rolled his eyes.
“Bite. It won’t be enough to satiate you, but it will at least get you on your feet.” Michael hummed and did as he was told, biting down on the pad of David’s thumb with his jagged teeth. As the blood entered his mouth, he sucked around David’s thumb and drew as much blood out as he could, reaching up with his other hand to grab David’s wrist to steady himself. The taste and feeling he got when he drank were the same as the first time he’d tasted David’s blood, but his body craved something more. Lapping up the small drops of blood that continued to fall, Michael pulled David’s hand away and stared up at him. “You ready to go, Michael?” With a nod, Michael moved to get up, waiting for David to move his foot before standing up. He was a little wobbly, so he grabbed onto David for support, electing to ignore the sly grin that David was sporting.
“Where are the others?”
“Outside. Didn’t think you’d want them to see you writhing face down in the dirt.” Michael clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth at the thought of all the boys watching him lay there and beg. Hearing David next to him snicker, he scowled, pulling himself away.
“Get out of my head.” Michael slipped out the door and made his way over to his bike, making a point to ignore David.
“Wooh, Mikey! Finally coming to join us, huh?” Michael ignored Marko and just gave the group a tight lipped smile, picking up his bike and settling down on it, waiting for them to take the lead. He wasn’t excited about what was going to come next, and a heavy sense of anxiety settled in his stomach. He knew that if he started he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and that truly scared him. Michael had no idea what it would be like to lose his humanity, and although it frightened him to the core, there was still that small twisted part of him that was excited to finally be a true part of the pack.