You've already filled one of my prompts (it was amazing. It was amazing and wonderful and lyrical and OH MY HEART...) and - thank you so much. If you don't mind, I'm just going to leave a second prompt here if you feel like filling it - feel free to ignore me if you'd rather not! Prompt: Jerry/David: "One short sleep past, we wake eternally." (John Donne).
“Death, be not proud - though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, thou art not so…”Monitors beep. Outside, despite the light drizzle which washes the sky a heavy grey and teases the cheery flowers, a bird sings. David’s breath rattles in his lungs, like something’s trying to pull it from him, and he’s fighting to keep it. Jerry supposes it is - either the decay in his bones or the poison they’re pumping into his blood to fight it. Jerry stalks into the room with all the grace of an apex predator - careful, fluid, quiet. A decision precedes every movement - every placement of his foot, even the trailing of his index finger along the rail at the end of David’s bed - it’s all thought out. All the experience - four hundred years of escaping burnings and stakings, four hundred years of hunting - go into each flex of his toe, each twitch of muscle fibre.But he isn’t hunting. Jerry settles on the very edge of David’s bed, feels the hard mattress give beneath his weight, sighing like a disappointed parent. When Jerry takes David’s hand, the skin is cool and an awful shade of pale. Jerry barely suppresses the urge to flinch, to gag, to throw something. He doesn’t. Jerry inhales deeply, shakily, and grinds out the words which haunt the very periphery of his brain - some twisted phantom teasing him. “Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men; and dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell…”Here Jerry raises David’s hand, pressing it to his nose like he’s done so many times over the last five years. David smells different now - bitter like ash and sickly sweet with the stench of something Jerry has only ever described as Death. Jerry shudders, his eyes squeezing shut. Over his long, long life, Jerry’s grown accustomed to dying. Humans die - animals and plants die - even vampires, if you’re particularly stubborn. He’s got so much blood on his hands you could probably fill a couple of olympic sized swimming pools with it. This shouldn’t scare him. This shouldn’t hurt him. And yet it does. As he recites what was first scratched into surface some four hundred years ago, Jerry can’t help but wonder how much of his own mutilated existence plays back in those words. Then David stirs. Eyes, once bright but now dozy with pain and medication, blink in the dim, spring-morning light. He smiles, face which was once soft and round now skeletal where sickness has sapped the life from him. David looks tired - tired of fighting, tired of dying. “Hi,” David whispers.“Hi, yourself. How are you feeling?”David shrugs one protruding collarbone. His cardigan - originally one of Jerry’s - and hospital gown slip down his shoulder, revealing skin tainted with bruises and veins. Jerry reaches out, tugging the material back up over to ward off the chill. “I feel the same.”Jerry wants to be sick. He swallows reflexively. “Have you… Are you…”When had he become so weak? Why swell’st thou then?
David blinks, and a tear jumps from his lashes, plunging down his face. Jerry isn’t fast enough to catch it, but he wipes it before David has to. “I’m scared.” David admits. Oh, doesn’t that break Jerry’s cold, undead heart? Here’s a man who’s faced down the end so many times, who’s never once admitted anything close to fear. “I’m here,” is all Jerry can manage in response. “You’ll stay?”“Forever, baby. Until the end of time.”David nods. He leans back into his pillows, and settles with a great sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Jerry squeezes his hand a little bit tighter, before glancing around to ensure no one’s watching. They won’t be though - they’re all on break. “I love you.” Jerry tells David. David smiles. “I love you too.”He doesn’t flinch, when Jerry reaches forward, doesn’t flinch when corpse-cold skin presses into his, doesn’t make a sound when those fangs sink through skin and sinew and into blood. Jerry pushes everything he has into that bite, presses his tongue against the glands above his fangs to milk the venom. All the while, David remains still and sweet and calm. On the monitor - his heart thunders wildly for half a second, before it goes silent. Jerry pulls himself away, wiping off the blood. The wound is sealing already - by the time the nurse gets in here, there won’t even be a mark. Jerry presses the call button, but he can hear feet already, thundering down the hall towards the distinctive sound of a flatline. “One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more…”The nurse pulls Jerry away, people are talking and giving terse orders. Jerry lets himself be hauled out of the room, towards some sort of grief counselling probably. He stares at David’s face until the door slams shut. Beyond that, lies eternity.
Bonus Scene:David comes to with the instinctive urge to dig. Wood lies above him, but on all sides he feels a gentle caress, is encased by a lovers hum. It reminds him of the warmth of Jerry’s arms. Jerry. David punches through the lid of the coffin without much thought, fist cleaving through earth which morphs and twists about him, as if parting for his touch. Then, it’s only a matter of pushing upright, hauling his way through six feet to the surface. Sitting beneath a great Oak, illuminated by a patch of moonlight, sits Jerry. David yanks himself up out of the hole, before crawling over to his mate. Jerry welcomes him with a fierce hug and a kiss which crossed the line of desperate a long time ago. “One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more…”David whispers the words against Jerry’s lips.














