Ok but what if Armand turned Daniel because he was about to die. Not man-in-his-70s-with-Parkinson’s about to die, I mean a-matter-of-minutes about to die
They’re on that plane, flying over New Jersey, but something’s wrong
Maybe Daniel starts having a seizure, OR he doesn’t even realise it yet and he feels fine (as fine as he can feel anyway)
But Armand can sense it, smell it, that he is about to be very much Not Fine in Not Long
He ponders his possibilities for a moment. He knew that it was going to happen soon, but there is an ocean between receiving the news next to Louis in their house in Dubai, giving himself the time to mourn in silence, and actually fucking seeing it happen in front of him
Could he bare it? To do nothing about it except holding his beloved boy in his arms, whispering one last, broken “Rest” to spare his consciousness the worst parts of the process? He tells himself that he can do it for a moment. He has probably endured worse, after all. But then Daniel gets closer to him to tell him something, their eyes meet and the next moment they are on the floor, Armand’s fangs deep in his throat
Daniel’s struggles are useless, his pleas ignored as Armand starts feeding him his blood, as red tears drip on Daniel’s crooked glasses, as claws replace nails and dig into Armand’s skin
The rest of the flight Daniel is feeding on blood bags and retching, living his first hours of his new life in death as his maker stares into nothingness, catatonic. What has he done?
Robbed his beloved boy of a peaceful death, cursing him with a monstrous eternity. He is a coward — and it is cowardice once again that leads him to disappear once the plane has landed (if not earlier), information to contact the blood bank scribbled on a piece of paper, and an abandoned fledgeling on a plane seat smeared with blood, hungry and filled with painful resentment
