A snippet from the next chapter of Scars That Remind. <3
“You didn’t need to come over,” Darlin muttered.
He looked at the deep slashes in their shoulder. Teeth. “Was he trying to kill you?”
Darlin jerked a little, surprised. Their jaw flexed and their gaze darted but didn’t quite meet his. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Is that the worst of it?”
Darlin glanced at their shoulder and then nodded. They had blood down their chin, oozing from a deep split in their lip.
“Did it even occur to you to try to heal any of this yourself or were you just going to put some super glue on it and call it a night?”
They finally looked up at him then and he saw the answer there. It had not occurred to them. “I guess if I save this mess until my next healing class they could use me for practice,” they said, offering a thin joke.
David sighed but nodded.
Darlin looked at the coffee table again. “Your shirt’s inside out.”
“Your shirt’s blood soaked,” he countered. “What are we going to do about this, Darlin?”
tagged by @ejunkiet and @romirola and tagging @glassbearclock @taelonsamada @colloquialcolival and @sealriously-sealrious if you want to share! <3
How many of you would be interested in reading this?
Gwen and David live happily together, taking care of their adopted son, max. When Gwen gets pregnant with their own baby, David goes into a super protect the smol inside my wife mode, and obviously Gwen thinks it’s cute.
But at one point, he had started to get on her nerves, so max takes the pleasure of taking him into another room to give Gwen some peace. She ends up in tears (you’ll see why) because of stupid hormones, and David and max get kinda caught up in her mini hurricane.
I just thought it’d make a cute mom!Gwen series
If y'all like it, I’ll post it, but I just wanna see how many of you would read this is all
(EDIT: tHE THING HAS BEEN WRITTEN, IT'S ON THIS BLOG GUYS OMG))
AU where Darlin's parents leave the pack and leave them behind when they're a teen. Gabe finds out they're homeless and basically adopts Darlin.
also available on ao3.
tags: aftermath of violence, protective david, darlin doing their best!
Scars That Remind - Part 8
As bad as getting healed by Milo’s Stealth would be, Darlin suddenly wished they’d already gotten there and done the job when they heard David’s truck door slam.
Their body spasmed on the couch, trying to get up and make a run for the back of the house—for the bathroom to clean up or maybe just to hide in their bedroom. It was a childish instinct.
Milo tsked and caught their good shoulder, nudging them back down onto the couch before they could bolt.
The front door thumped open and Asher leaned back in his chair, head rolled as far back as his neck would allow to look down the front hall at David. “Hey boss. Everything is okay.” He’d said that on the phone too, in that same easy tone like if Asher could stay calm then everyone else would find there way to it too.
“There’s blood all over the lawn,” David snarled, coming around the corner of wall and stopping when he saw Darlin on the couch.
Fuck. Darlin looked down at themself, shoulder still ripped open by teeth, shirt shredded and soaked, and knuckles busted. Their face was probably bad too. It felt bad. Their lip was definitely split.
David didn’t move for long seconds, his eyes running over them until they couldn’t stand it anymore and fixed their gaze on the coffee table.
-
David fought the urge to shift.
“Stealth is on their way,” Asher said, still leaning back in that chair like this was a fucking get together.
David curled his lip. “Go hose down the driveway before someone sees that mess.”
Darlin started to get up and David felt his eyes widen, furious that they’d even think he was talking to them. Like he would tell them to do anything but sit there and wait to be healed right now?
Milo caught their good shoulder and nudged them back down with a roll of his eyes. “Seriously?” he mumbled with a thin laugh before turning and heading out to the front yard.
Asher got up too, making a show of stretching and turning but stopping there for a second, right next to David. “They howled,” he said quietly, tapping his shoulder before passing him to follow Milo outside, giving them a few minutes alone.
Darlin still wasn’t looking at him.
He dragged a breath to steady himself, thinking about what Asher had said. They’d howled. That explained why the other two were there. But Darlin had never howled for help before. He came closer and sat down on the coffee table right in front of them, their knees bumping.
“You didn’t need to come over,” Darlin muttered.
He looked at the deep slashes in their shoulder. Teeth. “Was he trying to kill you?”
Darlin jerked a little, surprised. Their jaw flexed and their gaze darted but didn’t quite meet his. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Is that the worst of it?”
Darlin glanced at their shoulder and then nodded. They had blood down their chin, oozing from a deep split in their lip.
“Did it even occur to you to try to heal any of this yourself or were you just going to put some super glue on it and call it a night?”
They finally looked up at him then and he saw the answer there. It had not occurred to them. “I guess if I save this mess until my next healing class they could use me for practice,” they said, offering a thin joke.
David sighed but nodded.
Darlin looked at the coffee table again. “Your shirt’s inside out.”
“Your shirt’s blood soaked,” he countered. “What are we going to do about this, Darlin?”
They dragged a breath like they were a teen again, gaze fixing on the bottlecap tray on the table. “I handled it.”
He followed their gaze. There was another tooth in the bowl. Yes, his sibling could handle themself. But they shouldn’t have to, and Quinn didn’t seem to be taking the hint. “Will he come back again?” David asked, but he knew the answer.
Darlin closed their eyes, jaw tight. “Eventually. Yeah.”
David reached out and pushed their hair out of their face, frowning at the swollen skin on their cheekbone. It might be broken. “Do you want to hear your options?” he asked quietly. They’d never talked about this before but he’d thought about it plenty.
Darlin looked up at him, nodding once.
“When Stealth gets here, we could file an official report with the department…put him on their radar.”
Darlin winced and looked down.
“Or we can finally make this pack business, like it should have been from the start, and run him off our territory every time he shows up.” He chose his words carefully, because they both knew what it would mean. It wasn’t likely Quinn would go easily. It wasn’t likely to deescalate anything. They might have to kill him.
Darlin closed their eyes. “He’ll hurt someone.”
“He already has.”
Darlin sighed and it sounded like it was deep in their soul. “He’ll hurt someone else. He’s…dangerous. If he can’t get to me, he’ll take it out on the pack. He’ll get to me through them.”
David absorbed every word Darlin whispered. They sounded so tired but so certain. They’d thought it through. How long had they been sitting on that? How long had they not been asking for help because they were afraid it would spill over onto someone else?
David couldn’t dwell on that. He had to be grateful they’d gotten to this point, where they were finally taking help, and make sure he didn’t make them regret it.
“You and Ash have human mates,” Darlin whispered, so serious that it hurt. “It’s not worth the risk. I’ll handle it.”
“Handle it how?” he asked, pushing aside the way his teeth ground at the thought of anyone targeting Angel, let alone anyone else in his pack. But it wasn’t the first time he’d considered the possibility. When he’d left Angel’s bed tonight, he’d called Arden to come hang out in the building until he got back and sent Miguel to lurk around Babe’s place…just in case. Just until he had a scope of what was going on and where Quinn was. He had secretly hoped he’d be dead on the lawn.
Darlin looked at the teeth in the bottlecap bowl again.
It wasn’t that David doubted they could kill a vampire, it was just so cruel that they’d have to kill someone they’d once cared about. It was too much history. It would make Quinn an inescapable, permanent part of Darlin in a way David had so desperately hoped to avoid.
What would his dad tell him to do?
He reached out, slow enough that it wouldn’t surprise Darlin. He palmed the side of their head, scratching at scalp the way he did sometimes when they were sad—the way he’d seen his dad do to so many in the pack before him. Darlin exhaled, closing their eyes and leaning their head into that affirming contact. “We’ll figure it out together, as a pack.”
Darlin winced but didn’t pull away.
“I know,” he said to all their fears—to all the things that could go badly and all the ways they imagined it was their fault. “You are ours and we are yours. If it was anyone else, would you abandon them to handle this alone?” He didn’t have to wait for an answer because they both knew it. “We’ll find out if he’s still in Dahlia—”
“He’ll skip town after tonight.”
“Then we’ll be ready when he comes back. We can drag him to DUMP ourselves.”
Darlin sighed hard and looked up at him, eyes red and glassy. “You really think the department will do anything?”
David stared back at his sibling. No. He didn’t really think the department would hold Quinn until he’d killed an empowered person, one with an empowered family to complain. But they would try to do it right…first. “If not, we’ll handle it ourselves.” Together. Probably himself and Asher, but definitely not Darlin alone.
He looked at the deep cut on their shoulder again and then down at their busted hand. David knew why he wouldn’t let Darlin finish things with Quinn, the reason that weighed heavier than all the others—all the worries about what it would do to their heart and how unfair it would be—he was afraid Darlin would die with Quinn, that they would break themself against him and take damage equal to everything they dealt out.
A car pulled up in front of the house and soon Asher was thumping knuckles against the door before walking in, leading Milo and Stealth into the living room. He had two pizza boxes balanced on one hand and a half-eaten slice in the other. David rolled his eyes at his best friend but loved him for how easily he defused the room.
David let go of Darlin and moved to another chair, giving Stealth his spot to look at the mess.
Darlin whined childishly. “Come on! It’s not that bad!”
“You’re delusional from blood loss,” Asher said around a full mouth, putting the pizza boxes on the coffee table next to where Stealth had sat down.
“Shit…” Stealth muttered, peeling the shreds of t-shirt on their shoulder to the side to get a better look at the cuts. “Take this off?”
Darlin snorted but didn’t lift their shirt.
Stealth frowned and for a second David wondered if they’d press it. They didn’t, shrugging and getting to work on knitting that shredded tissue back together. Mending the bones in Darlin’s hand ended up being the worst of the healing for both of them. Stealth muttered an apology, but Darlin was quick to tell them they were the one doing a favor and thank them for it. The pizza ended up being appreciated when Stealth was done and a little drained and Darlin exhausted. Asher was good at getting everyone talking on topics that had no weight, just friendly and funny, while they polished off the food.
-
Darlin made it to class the next day, despite not getting cleaned up and in bed until nearly four in the morning. They felt sore all over but maybe it was just in their head. Stealth had healed everything visible, even got rid of the bruising before it colored.
They rubbed their shoulder, subconsciously searching for the cuts that had been there the night before, the ones Quinn had made with teeth and then pressed on with fingers.
They sat down and unzipped their bag, pulling out a textbook and notebook only to discover everything discolored reddish brown. They’d forgotten to check. Forgotten to clean it up. Well, there goes the resale value of that book. They put it down and flipped it open. At least it wasn’t soaked through, the cover taking most of the mess. Some of their notes were stained but they found a clean page.
They felt someone looking.
Glancing to the side, they caught the fire elemental with his sharp gaze on their desk before it flicked up to their face. They expected him to balk when he realized he’d been caught looking, but he didn’t. “You okay?” he asked, voice stiff but definitely unafraid.
Darlin considered saying something like “it’s not my blood” but that wasn’t entirely true. Some of it was. Maybe most of it. And they didn’t really want people to be scared of them, even if they had accepted it. “Yeah.”
He nodded slowly, thumb tapping his own notebook. “If your notes are ruined, let me know. I can make copies of mine, if you want.”
Darlin blinked, surprised. “Thanks.”
He huffed in a way that sort of reminded of David and turned forward just in time for the lecture to begin.
After class he introduced himself and Darlin did ask for some of the notes, their own stained too badly to be read. They went to the library to make copies and ended up studying together. It was nice. It was normal. They exchanged numbers with a vague plan to work on the upcoming project together that Darlin didn’t really expect him to follow up on, but with an hour they had a text specifying times he was available to meet up and work on it.
It ended up being a good day, and a then a great week. The shadow of Quinn loomed in the back of their head, but for the most part it was easy to forget him there. Until the new vampire started stalking them.
He didn’t know that Darlin knew, and they weren’t giving it away any time soon. He had been outside their house every night, sometimes just for a few minutes and sometimes for hours. Darlin caught his scent close to the doors and windows one day and wondered if he’d tried to get inside.
When Darlin had night classes, he was there, waiting for them to leave the bright and always populated campus for that lonely walk home. He followed on the walk sometimes. He never got close enough to attack though.
It wasn’t Quinn and despite their reputation on campus as a vampire groupie, they didn’t know any others anymore. Was it some enemy of his looking for revenge, or had he sent someone to keep an eye on them?
-
Sam followed the wolf from the DAMN campus. He’d never gotten close to them, but he’d still seen the scars up the side of their neck. Feeding scars, worn like badges to show all other vampires that they belonged to another. He curled his lip at it the first time he saw it, breathing in the reek of Quinn all over this wolf.
Quinn had skipped town after his visit to Wonderworld…after killing those kids that were now struggling with their new undead lives. The Solaire’s had filed the reports with DUMP but they’d just said they’d keep an eye out for him if he came back. Like that meant something. Like that offered anything. How many more would die before they bothered to find Quinn?
He still felt Fred’s pain like it was his own, his fear and anguish, the family and friends he’d lost in a moment, the teeth in his throat and his life slipping out.
It hadn’t been hard to find the wolf. Quinn had gone almost straight to them before skipping town. They must have gotten into a fight, their blood scents mingled up and down the street. Sam had been worried that Quinn had attacked this wolf too, until he saw them—until he heard the rumors about their relationship.
Whatever they were to each other, however turbulent or toxic their relationship, one thing seemed to be certain to everyone that knew anything about Quinn and Darlin—he would come back to them. He always came back to Darlin.
So, if Sam was patient, he would eventually get his hands on Quinn just by watching his chew toy.
In the first days, Sam had gotten close to the house and tried to look inside. He’d figured the stink of Quinn’s and the wolf’s blood all over the yard would mask his own scent. He hadn’t gotten as close in the days since.
Days became weeks and he knew this wolf’s schedule like his own. They rarely deviated from it. Campus, library, home. Sometimes the Shaw den where Sam was smart enough not to follow. The last thing he wanted was to cause problems with the Shaws. Guilt gnawed at his chest when he thought about that—about the trouble he could be inciting between his clan and Dahlia’s pack. William didn’t know he was keeping an eye on the wolf and Vincent had tried to advise him against it.
But it seemed too easy to ignore. Quinn would come back. He would come to this person. Sam just had to be patient. And when Quinn did come back, he would wait until he left the wolf before attacking, so as not to start a fight with the pack. But not even the pack could argue his right to bring Quinn to justice.
And from all the rumors Sam had heard, the Shaw pack wasn’t exactly proud of its wayward child’s connection to Quinn. It sounded like something of a dirty secret. If he was lucky, the pack wouldn’t bat an eye at his involvement if it meant getting Quinn off the streets and out of their member’s bed.
But the wait had been easier in the beginning, when he was fueled by revenge and rage. When it turned into a quiet game of patience, he couldn’t help but notice more about this wolf than the stories he’d heard about them being a fighter looking for pain—about their messy on and off again violent relationship with Quinn and their tenuous connection to their pack. The rumors made it sound like they were unwanted, cruel, and looking for trouble.
The person Sam was following was none of those things. Pack members showed up to the house sometimes, whole groups of them for what looked like family dinners at least once a month, and Darlin was clearly loved by them. He hadn’t seen them get into a single fight, despite overhearing some students on campus loudly calling names to the wolf on their way home—clearly baiting them into an altercation. Darlin had not batted an eye.
Through library windows he caught glimpses of them with what he assumed was a study group. They were almost shy with those new friends. And he saw the way they walked a little taller, with a smile tucked in the corner of their mouth when they’d done particularly well on an exam. And he saw the days when they had gone too long alone with their thoughts, an intangible weight on their shoulders when they headed home to that house—alone.
This wolf did not strike him as the Clyde to Quinn’s Bonnie, like the rumors said. Whatever was going on between them, whatever had gone on between them, he found himself hoping Quinn didn’t come back after all.
He stayed because a part of him was worried about what would happen when he did. There had been so much blood soaked down into the yard that first night he found the house. But maybe if the rumors were wrong about this wolf, they were also wrong about the relationship to Quinn. Maybe he wouldn’t come back there. Why would he?
But then Sam thought about all the scars he had glimpsed over the months, so many carefully laid bites from the back of their ear down to their shoulder—only on one side. Quinn had marked them up. It would have taken time to lay those scars over one another like that—to wait for one to heal naturally and slowly before adding another. Whatever their relationship really was, Quinn would come back to it.
And then, one night, when Sam strolled across the dark campus for what he’d started to think of as a “check in” with the wolf, they were not where they usually were.
Their class let out, but they were not among the students exiting the building.
It was the first time he’d seen them miss a class.
He circled the campus, drawn to the places they usually were but also searching for a trail of them anywhere. It was never hard to find the wolf, because of their backpack. The blood had long since dried, but it was still there, like a beacon to his senses. He caught the scent and followed, expecting to spot them any second only to find himself standing in one of the many stretches of grass outside a building, near one of the paved paths, over the backpack. It was in the grass, dropped on its side, the zipper half-open with books spilling out.
Darlin isn’t sure if they’re dating Huxley or just roommates with benefits and does the unthinkable...they go to David for advice.
Poor Davey.
tags: past abuse, past bad relationships, protective davey, talking about Quinn, angst, hurt/comfort, relationship negotiation
Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. Part 2
David stood at the grill, just out of reach of the splashes from the pool. Asher let some of the kids try to gang up on him, using their collective force to push him right to the edge before he stopped stumbling and just started hoisting them up one after the other and tossing them into the water.
Angel had put a stack of towels on one of the lawn chairs when people first started showing up—knowing that someone always ended up going in that hadn’t planned to.
David was really happy with their home, for them and because it gave the pack someplace to gather outside the den. There was nothing wrong with the den, of course, but it was sometimes a formal setting and sometimes a business setting—not always the best place for relaxing and just being together. His dad had told him that, that it would be his job to be aware of how spaces affected the pack and make sure to give them the right ones to grow in.
He heard Milo’s voice rise in the house when someone new came through the door. Darlin. Darlin hadn’t gone to these get togethers before the Quinn shit went down. Their parents had never been willing to go to anything that wasn’t required and then, eventually, not even those. Darlin was an example of what happened when they only met for formal shit, only when things were serious or a problem. It got to the point that Darlin expected to be in trouble when David talked to them. He had born that because he had to—to get them to a better place.
Which was why it had meant so much that they’d come to him on their own with a problem. So he wasn’t going to mess this up. Unless Darlin had changed their mind, they were walking through his house with their current partner. They were trusting him to help them figure out what sort of relationship they were in. So, he was going to try really hard to do exactly that and not judge the absolute shit out of this elemental or run him the fuck off the property.
But all of that resolve strained when he actually saw the guy.
He was big.
Of course, he was.
David tried not to imagine Darlin and this guy in a fight—tried not to compare him to their previous partners—tried not to think of Quinn.
“You okay?” Angel asked, voice low at his side and attention inconspicuously on the burgers he hadn’t flipped yet. They tugged the spatula from his hand and took over.
“Yeah,” he nodded, watching Darlin and their elemental talking to Babe and Stealth.
“He looks nice,” Angel said, still in that whisper so it was just between them and still playing it casual like they didn’t know what he was thinking.
He grunted once.
Angel bumped their hip to his. “Big doesn’t always mean bad.”
He looked down at them, at first not even realizing they were referring to him—to them. The idea that anyone might have looked at them together and thought the shit he was thinking about this stranger made his stomach roll.
He huffed but bumped his hip to Angel’s gently in return, loving the way they smiled when he did.
He glanced over at Darlin and their date again. The guy was obviously nervous but really happy too. He was smiling and making Stealth laugh at something. He stood close to Darlin, not like he was trying to intimidate or steer them but like he was there for them, his hand brushing theirs. Darlin leaned into him and the elemental ducked his head to catch whatever they were saying to him. He nodded and Darlin slid away from his side—toward the table of drinks. They left him alone with Stealth and Babe.
Darlin was far from careless and though he knew they trusted Stealth’s abilities, he also knew Darlin would sooner cut off a limb than leave someone that might be dangerous with their mates. That small act of trust said so much about whatever their relationship was—whoever this guy was.
David caught Darlin’s eye just when they’d grabbed a couple beers, nodding his head. Darlin nodded back, glancing toward where they’d left their date before coming over to the grill. They looked guilty, like they were a kid about to get into trouble. He hoped someday he could call them over without making them look like that.
“Hey,” Darlin said and then looked at Angel, smiling soft and nodding again. “Alpha mini.”
Angel always preened at that nickname. Asher had started it. David pretended not to like it but it was all a show. He loved it—loved that they had always accepted and respected Angel the way they would a shifter at his side. “So, that’s the boyfriend?” Angel asked, nudging their chin in the elemental’s direction. “Couldn’t find one bigger?”
Darlin shrugged. It wasn’t like Darlin was petite, but it would be bullshit to pretend they were bigger than the guy they’d brought. Still, in a fight, David would always bet on Darlin. Always.
Before David could say anything, Stealth was bringing the newcomer over. They phased one of the beers right out of Darlin’s hand. The elemental laughed when Darlin growled but made peace quickly. “We can share,” he said, hand rubbing discreetly up and down Darlin’s back.
Darlin huffed but nodded, handing him the first sip. “Huxley, this is David Shaw. David this is Hux.”
The elemental smiled easily and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
David took his hand, looking him in the eye. He’d expected some cocky glint there—some squeeze to try to play for power—but there was nothing but openness and patience. David nodded. “You too. So, how long have you lived in Dahlia?”
He caught the way Darlin’s eyes widened, like they’d suddenly realized this was going to be a whole evening of grilling their partner. David smirked a little at that. Sucker. Between himself, Angel, Asher, and Milo, they were going to know this guy’s entire life story before sunset.
-
Darlin’s pack was so nice. They were welcoming and open, even when they didn’t know him at all. But Huxley couldn’t help but notice the differences between Darlin and the rest of their pack. They weren’t shy about showing skin and while there were a few scars in the mix, there was nothing like Darlins. Huxley had memorized every scar on their body, lots of cuts, some burns, and those bite scars from shoulder to ear on one side—more bites scattered all over. He’d worried it was a pack thing. He didn’t know much about shifters and had expected them all to be just as scarred as Darlin. He'd been afraid their dynamic would be violent, that they’d hurt each other—hurt his wolf.
He wanted to respect their ways and their choices but he couldn’t imagine being okay with that.
But after just ten minutes in the backyard, he knew that wasn’t the case. They were a family, one that clearly loved and cared for each other. Yes, the pack roughhoused a lot but it was only fun. He also noticed how that rough play never extended to Darlin. Oh, they still played and smiled and even sought contact, but no one was tackling or grabbing like they might with each other. It all screamed affection and love for Darlin, but it also screamed something else, didn’t it? Something bad.
They’d been asking Huxley every question in the book. He wasn’t stupid, even if he knew people thought that sometimes. He knew they were trying to figure him out, or get to know him, or maybe decide if he was good enough for Darlin.
He hoped he was.
He wanted to be.
It took him about ten minutes to realize Asher was on pool duty. He was so chill that Huxley didn’t realize it at first, but his gaze never left the water and the kids splashing around there, even while he was talking to him—asking him about his team and practice and shit.
Milo sidled up next to them but stayed on the opposite side of Huxley than Asher—either he was afraid Asher would push him in like he had three people since Huxley got there, or the two of them thought they might be able to toss him in if they worked together. Huxley almost smiled at the idea. Good luck. He’d been to enough pool parties with jocks to know how to avoid getting tossed.
Darlin laughed at something Angel said on the other side of the pool, the sound naturally drawing Huxley’s attention for a second. But then he realized it drew the attention of others too. Even Asher’s gaze left the pool for a second, his smile vanishing and eyes locking onto Darlin.
Milo exhaled hard. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Huxley asked.
Asher huffed a laugh and returned his attention to the kids, even grabbing up one trying to run around them and hurling him into the pool—the kid’s laughter loud before the splash and louder after he came back up.
“Nothing,” Milo promised with a smile. “Just we don’t usually hear them laugh like that. At best we can get a little huff and smirk.”
Huxley considered that. He heard Darlin laugh plenty, but he wasn’t unfamiliar with the huff and smirk either.
Asher was still laughing at the kid in the water when he stepped back to stand next to them and said, “Things have been getting better with Darlin since Quinn—”
Asher choked off whatever he was saying and Huxley felt both men freeze.
“Quinn?” the name rolled off Huxley’s tongue, new and unfamiliar.
Milo swore under his breath. Asher’s eyes cut to Huxley, meeting his gaze and then flashing away again. He looked toward Darlin, as if making sure they hadn’t heard, and then back to the pool—thinking. “What?” Asher exhaled, shaking his head. “Oh. It was just a bad time, but it was forever ago.”
Huxley nodded. He’d obviously stumbled onto something, but Asher looked so uncomfortable, almost hurt. “Is he someone in the pack?” Huxley asked.
Milo growled low next to him, like it wasn’t something he could control. “No. Just a bad vamp.” The words ground out, barely more than a whisper, like he didn’t want anyone around them to hear what they were talking about.
As much as Huxley wanted to ask more, he didn’t. It was clearly a bad topic and these guys had been so nice to him. Instead, he shrugged and changed the subject.
Asher laughed, lighting up with relief and clapping Huxley’s shoulder. Milo was quick to jump on the new topic too.
But Huxley glanced over at Darlin and thought about what a bad vampire could be like and suddenly, horribly, all those bites and razor smooth slashes carved into their skin made sense. The other pack members didn’t have scars like that because they weren’t wolf scars. They were vampire bites.
Quinn.
-
The barbeque had gone great. Darlin was so relieved, even if David hadn’t told them whether he thought they were in a relationship or not yet. Maybe they’d text him and ask? No. No embarrassing paper trail. They’d just go by his office next time and have another one of those god awful conversations about it.
But then, on the ride home, Hux got quiet. He was looking serious. All of Darlin’s certainty that this had gone well went out the window. They started rethinking the whole night. But no, nothing bad had happened and he had seemed to like everyone.
Everyone had definitely liked him.
When they got back to the apartment they walked upstairs in near silence.
He didn’t say anything until they’d unlocked the door and taken a couple steps in.
“Tough stuff…” he started and they knew this was bad. There was an unease there that just wasn’t usually in his voice. Ever. Oh god. They’d made shit weird. They weren’t dating and this was awkward now. Now he knew they’d thought that they were and absolutely didn’t want any part of that. And really, they didn’t blame him, but fuck this was going to be embarrassing. “I know there’s some stuff we don’t talk about…”
Darlin cringed but nodded, shoving hands into their pockets. “Yeah. Fuck.” This was exactly why people shouldn’t move in together. What happened now? Yes, the place was Darlin’s, but all this stuff that made it a home was definitely his. They felt like they should definitely be the one to leave and actually took a step back toward the door.
Huxley winced and shook his head. “Nevermind, dude.”
Darlin blinked. Why had he looked like that? Why did he sound like that? When they looked at him—really looked at him—they realize he looked, hurt? Scared? What the fuck could he be scared of? Them? “I get it if you want to keep things casual. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“What? No. You definitely didn’t overstep, and I don’t…I didn’t think we were casual?” What started as a statement filled with uncertainty became a question. “Did you…Do you think we were casual?”
Darlin huffed a breath, almost a laugh, and clawed a hand through their hair. They wanted to shift and run but they wouldn’t do that. They were a lot of things, but they weren’t a coward. “No. I mean, I don’t know what we are or how this works,” they came clean. Why not be honest? This was going to hurt either way, the least they could do was be honest with him.
“How what works?” Huxley asked, taking a step closer.
Darlin swore under their breath and looked down. Fuck. This was humiliating.
Huxley’s hand came into their line of sight, the back of his knuckles brushing against theirs. “Hey. Can we sit and talk about this?”
Darlin touched his hand, marveling at how that small gesture quieted some of that rising panic. They nodded, shrugging out of their jacket and stepping out of their boots.
Huxley seemed relieved when they did, like… like he’d been worried they’d walk out?
“Hux…”
He was unlacing his sneakers, pausing to look up at them.
“I wouldn’t bolt on you. I’m bad at a lot of this, but I wouldn’t leave you hanging.” They needed to make sure he knew that, even if they might be off base and it might be embarrassing later. They couldn’t allow the chance that he didn’t know.
Huxley blinked and then exhaled some of that tension and nodded.
Darlin was glad they’d said something. Yes, honesty was the best policy. They’d just tell him the truth and deal with the fallout. He deserved the truth.
They sat on the couch. He sat close, bending a leg up onto the cushion between them to turn sideways and face them. Darlin mirrored him, feeling like this was important. They knew they’d made the right choice when he rested a hand just above their knee, anchoring them together.
“I’m not good at this,” Darlin confessed.
Huxley stared back at them. “At what?”
Darlin huffed a breath, waving their hand between their chests. “All of this. Whatever this is… I mean, I’ve been with people but it’s never been like this. I don’t know what you want or what we’re doing but I like it. I like us. Whatever we are.” They closed their eyes. They felt like they were saying everything wrong.
“Hey,” Huxley said, voice low but comforting and right in front of them. “I like us too. Whatever we are.”
Darlin sighed hard, relieved.
Huxley squeezed their thigh gently. “But I think we should talk about what we are? I know we kind of started things off unconventional, me moving in before we got together and all, and like, I absolutely don’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable ever. But I was definitely hoping that we were becoming a couple…”
Darlin looked up at him, almost laughing at the idea that he thought the problem was how unconventional their start had been. It was the most conventional relationship they’d ever had. Darlin’s hand slid over his. “So, we’re…dating?”
Huxley laughed softly but nodded. “Yeah, if you want to be. Because I want to be.”
Darlin nodded. Yes. Definitely yes. But then why had he sounded so grim earlier? Should they leave it alone? No. What if something was bothering him? “What…What were you going to say earlier? Did something happen at the barbeque?” The idea of someone being rude to him was almost unfathomable. Christian hadn’t even been there so that particular jerk possibility was out.
“No,” he said but it was a little too fast and they both heard it. He took a breath and looked down.
Darlin’s heart beat faster. Oh shit. What could it be? They scooted closer, almost in his fucking lap, trying to get in his line of sight again. “What? If someone made you uncomfortable—”
“No. No,” he shook his head, looking at them almost pleading. There was something clearly hurt in his gaze and Darlin needed to know what it was—what had done that—so that they could punch it in the face. And then his gaze flicked to their neck. More specifically, to the side of their neck with the scars.
Oh.
They’d expected him to ask in the beginning, everyone always did once they got over the being scared of Darlin phase. But he hadn’t. When they were making out and getting heated, Darlin tried to keep that side turned slightly away from him, so he wouldn’t feel like he had to kiss or lick those scars. He’d only ever asked once if it bothered them—if they didn’t want him to touch there. Darlin had been so surprised by the question and it had been so early in their relationship, that they’d just answered no, they didn’t mind, and his mouth had roamed that skin like the rest of theirs ever since.
It had been easy to forget. He didn’t know.
Their stomach dropped. Oh shit. He didn’t know.
-
Huxley wished suddenly that he could take it back.
They were tense and their eyes focused someplace down and between them but not meeting his gaze anymore. “Oh.”
Quinn. The name rang in his head. He didn’t know who it was, but he knew it was bad. The way Asher and Milo had looked when it slipped out…they were worried and he knew they weren’t scared of Darlin, so the only thing left was being scared for Darlin. But Huxley hesitated to say it—to ask who it was. Still, he couldn’t lie and pretend it was nothing. There was definitely something going on with Darlin—some pain that had been there before he showed up.
His gaze drifted to their neck and the circular scars and deep slashes. “I thought… I mean, I’ve never hung out with shifters much, so I thought maybe the scars were just, normal shifter stuff, you know?” But it hadn’t been normal shifted stuff. There were plenty of scars, but nothing like Darlin. “We don’t have to talk about it. You don’t ever have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
To his surprise Darlin forced a smile and shook their head. “No. It’s not that big a deal. I mean, plenty of my scars come from dumb shit or fights, sometimes with wolves and some with vampires. I don’t mind telling you about them if you want to know but you don’t have to… I mean, I get that it can be a lot. It’s all in the past anyway and there’s kind of a lot so you don’t have to…” They took a deep breath to refocus and their hand came up to the side of their neck. He’d never seen them touch them before, he realized. “But you mean these, yeah?” They looked up at him quick and nodded at his expression before looking away again.
Huxley watched the way they tried so hard to act like this wasn’t a big deal, to shrug even when he saw their fingers digging into those scars.
“I’ve made a lot of stupid choices. We were friends at first and then… And then we weren’t.”
Huxley reached out slowly, so they’d see his hand coming before it wrapped around theirs and gently took it from the side of their neck, where their nails had started to press through skin. Someone they were friends with had done this? Quinn. His heart ached. “Friends…like you and me?”
Darlin winced, head dropping so low that their chin touched their chest. “No one’s ever been like you,” they whispered. “But yes. Like that.”
Like that.
Like someone they’d been sleeping with. Someone they’d trusted more than a friend.
“What happened?” Huxley asked softly.
“I wasn’t close with the pack then. Things got bad with…him, but I stayed. We fought a lot but I could take it and he wasn’t always that bad.” They grimaced as they tried to explain but Huxley just nodded slowly. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t good, but he could see it and see how it happened and he sure as shit wasn’t going to judge them for it. It wasn’t their fault. “But he…he hurt someone else. We fought for real that time and afterward I called the Department and reported him. He’s in lock up now.”
Their voice got quieter as they spoke, that pretend casual grating down into exhausted shame.
Huxley couldn’t imagine how horrible that would be—to care about someone that was hurting him and then finally have to turn them in. “I’m sorry,” he said and meant it. He was so sorry that had happened to them. He cupped the side of their face, their chin still pressed down into their chest like they might be able to curl up into themself.
“It was my own fault,” they mumbled, shrugging.
Huxley’s heart broke. It sounded like they’d said it before, a lot, until the words were just automatic. He sighed hard. “Oh, tough stuff, you know it wasn’t. I bet if anyone else had been in your position, done what you’d done, survived what you’d survived, you’d never think it was their own fault.” His hand slid around to the back of their neck, fingers deep in hair to scratch softly at their scalp. They dragged a breath and leaned forward that last inch to press their head to his chest. Their hands were on his sides, sliding up and twisting in his shirt. Huxley tugged until they were in his lap, pressed against his chest. “And I don’t think it was your fault. You survived something bad and then you still managed to protect other people.”
Darlin sighed heavily and they stayed like that for a while, just together.
Eventually Darlin shifted, laying their cheek against his shoulder and looking up at him. “So…Nothing’s going to scare you off? Not my shady past or the whole pack grilling you?”
Huxley laughed and shook his head. “Nope.” He bounced them a little on his thighs. “Do you think they liked me? The pack…”
Darlin smiled big. “Oh, you have no idea. Asher wanted your phone number and Stealth wants to go on a double date.”
“Really? Gav and the Freelancer have been asking about double dates too.”
“Think we could just set up Milo and Stealth and Gavin and Freelancer? Let them double date each other so we can stay home?”
Huxley smiled. It wasn’t the worst idea but he also liked the idea of going on group dates. Really, he liked the idea of going anywhere with Darlin.
Darlin’s expression softened, nodding against his shoulder like they heard his thoughts. “It’ll be fun.”
He leaned over and kissed their temple. “It’ll be fun,” he said back.
Darlin isn’t sure if they’re dating Huxley or just roommates with benefits and does the unthinkable...they go to David for advice.
Poor Davey.
tags: developing relationship, protective david, uncertain darlin, amazing huxley, referenced bad past relationships, implied/referenced past abuse, fluff, hurt/comfort
Darlin&David. Darlin/Huxley.
Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.
“I need help,” Darlin blurted out, barely in the room.
David looked up, instantly forgetting the paperwork on his desk. He was first and foremost floored by that particular string of words coming from that mouth. Darlin never asked for help. If they were stuck in a beartrap they would sooner gnaw off a limb than ask for help. So, his second reaction was a mix of fury and a need to know who the hell had crossed them so badly that they would ask.
Darlin huffed when he didn’t say anything, obviously flustered and uncomfortable. With a growl they turned to leave.
“Sit,” David snapped. It sounded angry, but he was honestly horrified they’d think he’d ignored their request. They would go back on it just as quickly as they’d said it—he knew that.
Darlin hesitated and then finally sat down across from him at the desk.
David almost sighed in relief. “What do you need?”
Darlin whined and dropped their head on his desk.
David stared. If they weren’t possibly in danger, he would think this was hilarious—he would definitely enjoy Darlin being this whiney on most days. “What—”
“I’m dating this guy,” they said, voice echoing off the desk.
David frowned. “What did he do?”
Darlin groaned. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.”
David frowned harder. “What the fuck are you talking about? Did he hurt you?”
“What?” Darlin lifted their head, face pinched in confusion. “No. He’s…nice.”
David exhaled hard and sat back. “Jesus.” Thank god. Darlin had bullshit taste. They usually picked partners like they were looking to punish themselves for something. Fortunately, they never lasted long.
“Never mind,” Darlin said, already out of the chair and bolting for the door. They were out before he could realize how he’d handled this wrong. Fuck.
David got up and followed. He caught up before they left the building. They had started to open the door and he came up behind them, slamming it shut again and keeping his hand there against the door. Darlin sighed. Instead of turning to look at him though, they just thumped their forehead to the surface. “It was stupid. Please just let me go and forget I said anything.”
“No.”
Darlin turned around, leaning their back into the door and looking up at him. “What? Why not? You hate relationship conversations.”
David curled his lip. “No. I hate gossip. Is this gossip?”
“No,” they mumbled.
“Who are you dating?”
Darlin sighed. “Elemental guy. I ran into him at this hotdog place. We ended up talking. I thought it was friendly.”
“So, you don’t want to be dating him?”
“No, that’s not it. It started off as friends and he needed a place to stay so I rented him the room in my—”
“You’re living with him?” David tried to keep his voice even, but a little wave of panic was rising in his chest. Darlin never lived with any of the people they’d dated, as far as he was aware. They had always maintained a solid line between the assholes they dated and the places they felt safe. The idea of them having no easy escape from them…
“Yeah, that’s not really the problem.”
“What’s the problem?”
Darlin groaned. “It was friendly and then it was kind of flirty and then he’s inviting me to go to his games and hang out with his friends and I think we might be dating…”
“Why do you sound so confused?” It was pissing him off. He didn’t understand what the problem was.
“Because he’s so nice! He’s a good person. And I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. And he…” They blushed and looked at the floor.
What did he do? David wanted to demand but he knew it would come out in a growl and that wouldn’t be helpful. He waited, staring back at them and still holding the door shut so they had no hope of escape until they explained.
Darlin groaned. “He’s nice,” they said again. “I don’t know what to do with nice. I’ve never been with nice. I’m not even sure if we’re dating or if he’s just really really fucking friendly.”
David stared. “He’s nice?” he repeated.
Darlin glared and looked like they might try to bolt again.
“Are you… Have you two…” Fuck. FUCK! He did not want to have this conversation. But he couldn’t ignore their obvious distress. David growled but asked. “Have you two slept together?”
The length of the pause suggested the answer even before they squirmed, gaze going anywhere but directly at him. “I mean, yeah…but that doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t casual, you know?”
David tried very hard not to react or even think about that in any detail. So, they were sexually involved. Check. “And you can’t tell if you’re dating or just…friends with benefits?”
Darlin nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s the problem.”
He bit back all impulses to tell Darlin how dumb they were. They were being really vulnerable with him and he wasn’t going to mess that up. He also wasn’t going to screw up any opportunity to help them. “Is he sleeping with anyone else?”
Darlin thought about it and then shook their head. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
David thought about it for another few seconds and Darlin actually waited, patient now that they were hopeful he’d help. “Okay. We have a barbecue on Saturday. You’re going, right?”
Darlin looked dubious. “Yeah…”
“Bring him.”
“That’s a pack thing.”
David nodded. “Yeah. Bring him. Either he’s your friend and roommate, in which case we should meet him, or he’s your boyfriend and we should definitely meet him.”
Darlin’s face pinched. “I never bring anyone to those.”
David sighed. No, they hadn’t. In fact, Darlin had always been careful to keep their partners away from the pack. He didn’t miss why, either. Darlin wouldn’t have trusted any of those partners near pack. “Bring him. We’ll figure it out.” One way or the other. He would figure out what this problem really was and how to help Darlin. If doing that was putting the fear of the whole Shaw Pack into this asshole, then so be it.
“Fine,” Darlin sulked but agreed.
It was a lot faster than David had expected, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue with it.
Darlin sighed, dragging a hand through their hair and tugging nervously. “Can I go?” they griped.
David rolled his eyes and stepped back, letting them open the door and escape. He stood there for a while in their wake, going over the whole mess of a conversation and still not sure what the hell was going on. Were they really that unsure if they were dating the guy? It wasn’t like Darlin to care. It wasn’t like them to not just ask if they wanted to know something. Were they scared?
-
Darlin came home. When they opened the door, the smell of rosemary and onions reminded their stomach it was empty.
Music played somewhere inside the jungle of houseplants.
The apartment had slowly but surely become unrecognizable since Huxley moved into the guest room.
That was reason to think they weren’t really dating, right? They still had their own rooms. Couples didn’t usually keep their own rooms. But…they always slept together, it was just sometimes in his room and sometimes in theirs. And they seemed to move freely between both.
“Is that you, tough stuff?” he called from the kitchen.
Darlin shrugged out of their jacket and hung it up. “Yeah,” they called, hoping he couldn’t hear the way the nickname made their face feel warm. They stepped out of their boots and walked to the kitchen. He had textbooks and notebooks on one side of the dining table. He’d been worried about leaving his things out when he first moved in. He’d just needed a place to crash back then. But Darlin had assured him they didn’t care where he left his books, or his clothes, or his plants. And that was when the plants started arriving. Darlin always noticed a new one. Sometimes he rescued ones left to brown and die in windows on campus. A few Darlin had been sure were dead, but somehow he brought them back.
They came around the corner into the mouth of the kitchen. He was a big man and now the little kitchen looked tiny. He’d showered recently, his hair still wet, and he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. His joggers hung on his hips and Darlin had to make a decision to look away—to turn to the fridge to get something to drink. He was taking something out of the oven and it smelled amazing.
He did that sometimes—made food. And he always shared. In fact, he made food for both of them. He’d even figured out what Darlin liked and didn’t like, which was wild since Darlin barely cared enough to figure that out.
Darlin couldn’t make food. The best they could do was order in, which they did to try to feed him in return because that was what people did, right?
“Everything okay?” he asked, worry in his voice.
Darlin blinked, realizing they were frowning in thought. “Oh. Yeah. Just tired.”
Huxley nodded, shaking off an oven mitt. He’d made a quiche. He’d made it before and Darlin loved that fucking quiche. He put it on the counter and grabbed something from the refrigerator, uncapping the bottle of water and holding it out to them. “Here. If you want to shower before we eat you totally can.”
Darlin took the water, grateful when he came closer to deliver it and stayed in their personal space. He casually fingered the hair out of their face like he was getting a look at them. Darlin could never quite meet his gaze when he was looking at them like that—like he was really seeing them, caring to catalogue and check for any signs of something amiss. “Thanks,” Darlin whispered before downing some water, pretending to themself that that was what they were thanking him for.
“Anytime, dude. Hey, after we eat, do you want to crawl into bed early? We can put on a movie or something and just chill?”
Anyone else and Darlin would assume that was a weird sort of pick-up line. They had, in fact, assumed that the first time he said something like that. They’d been dead tired that time and figured he wanted sex anyway. They’d been less than happy about it but gone along with it anyway. At least he’d sort of asked. None of their previous partners would have. But when they’d finally crawled into bed that night, Darlin had reached for him—ready to get it over with so they really could sleep. Huxley had caught their wrist and gently pulled their hand away from him. He’d moved them until he was spooning them, his body flush to theirs but no arousal pressing against them. He’d kissed their temple and asked if they wanted him to sleep in the other room, like he really would and he wouldn’t even be mad about it. Darlin hadn’t been too tired then to really be surprised, just shaking their head and grateful to be held.
Huxley never tried to take anything from them. He was just there with them. They had great sex but they even had a great time when there was no sex involved. It was all very confusing. “Yeah, that sounds good,” Darlin admitted. “Really good, thanks.”
Huxley smiled.
Darlin leaned into him, kissing him, savoring the way his arm curled around their back and gently tugged them up against his body. They stayed close even when the kiss broke, just hanging on to each other. “So…” Darlin forced themselves to say something. If they didn’t, they might not at all. “There’s this barbecue thing I have to go to on Saturday. Do you want to come with?”
He squeezed them a little tighter and they were so close that they could hear his heart beat faster.
“You don’t have to. It was just an idea and you probably have stuff to do.” They let go of him, ready to step back and retreat to the bathroom to shower, but Huxley kept hold of their hips, not quite letting them go. And he looked… happy. He looked really happy.
“What? No. I’d love to go. Is it a work thing or…?”
“It’s a pack thing.” They hated the heat that rose up their neck to their cheeks.
Huxley obviously tried to temper his grin but it seemed impossible. “Cool. Should we bring anything?”
Darlin blinked. It had never even occurred to them to ask. They usually just showed up late, ate whatever food David put in their hands, stayed until it was dark, and then went home. Did people bring things? There was always a table of food. “I…don’t think so?”
Huxley laughed. “That sounds a lot like a question, dude…”
Darlin rolled their eyes dramatically and pushed out of his hold, walking toward the hall. “I’ll ask, okay?” They stopped at the mouth of the hall and looked back at him. He was still smiling, standing there in his sweats and nothing else. He’d already showered but… They bit their lip, not quiet looking at him and not quite smirking when they asked, “Wanna join me?”
Huxley bit his lip, smile changing but never vanishing. “Absolutely,” he closed the distance between them, practically chasing Darlin down the hall and into the bathroom.
Remember when I was like, “I don’t know, maybe I’ll write a part two...” well I did! And now I’m working on part three...
Posting here and over on ao3!
Darlin/Sam and Darlin & David. Pack feels and even a King Vincent moment.
Tags: Alexis and Quinn teamed up to take what’s theirs (all those tags), non-con invoking, non-con turning, angst, hurt/comfort, memory alteration...
No Luck Left - Part 2
Darlin woke up and wished they hadn’t.
They were so cold.
Sam was right there. They could see him, could probably touch him if they could just lift their arm. But he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at Alexis—watching her with cold focus that Darlin imagined Alexis thought was adoration or love. They had no idea what he looked like when he loved. Darlin closed their eyes. Too tired. David or Vincent would catch up to Alexis eventually now. They would save Sam.
“There you are,” Quinn whispered against their temple and Darlin jolted, realizing suddenly that they were sitting in his lap, his arm wrapped around them and his thighs bracketing their hips. Sam and Alexis turned their heads to look too now. Alexis grinned big but it was empty. And Sam… Oh, Sam.
They remembered the hallway of their apartment building and Sam dragging them to the floor. And then teeth. All three vampires had descended on them, pinned them and bled them until they’d lost consciousness.
Quinn snaked a hand up their side, under their shredded shirt. Their jacket was gone. His mouth brushed their already torn neck. “It’s almost sundown, but I wanted to do this right before we go.”
Go? Go where? Who was going? Were they taking Sam with them after they killed them and ran?
Alexis leaned in and whispered something to Sam. He curled his lip briefly but slid away from her and toward Darlin. No. Nonono. That wasn’t him. Not really. Not right now.
“You did this,” Quinn whispered against their skin. “If you’d just stayed with me, Misfit…”
They tried to kick, to move, to shift. Quinn lifted one of their arms and held it out toward Sam. They must have planned this because Sam didn’t say anything. He didn’t look confused or worried. He took Darlin’s arm in his hand, skin to skin, but everything so different from before. From usual. Quinn still had his arms around them and they hated the sound they were making, this confused awful sound because it was all wrong—like their mind was cracking as it tried to make sense of having contact with both of them at the same time. They were nothing alike. They couldn’t be more different. But then they both had teeth in Darlin’s skin, sapping what little they had left to hang on to.
Oh god, they were going to die. Their heart was beating so fast it felt like their chest might break.
Their vision blurred, their hearing sliding in and out. They were going to die. And Sam, when the pack or the Solaires saved him, he’d remember this, wouldn’t he? They hoped not.
Let him forget.
Let him forget everything.
Quinn laughed when he took his teeth from them, his arms all around them, cradling them to his chest, kissing their face and making promises they couldn’t hear clearly.
They didn’t want his arms or his promises.
They only wanted Sam.
They died wanting Sam even though he was right there next to them.
-
It took Vincent five months to find Alexis and Sam, or rather, to catch up to them. He seemed to find himself again and again in the aftermath of Alexis—in the damage she had reaped in a city. It seemed that Alexis and Quinn had parted ways months ago and that suspicion was underlined when he spent three nights stalking her. He watched where she went and who she was spending her time with. He watched her with Sam and damn if they didn’t look like a real couple from the outside. Vincent would never have been able to stand on the sidelines, allowing his friend—his brother—to be used like that right in front of him for those three days if it weren’t for Darlin. No one had found them yet. No one had caught up to Quinn but worst—no one had even been able to confirm if Darlin was undead or just dead.
Sam might know, for better or worse, but Vincent had waited out those three days in the sheer hope that Alexis would lead him to Quinn or Darlin. But she didn’t. She only led him to blood dens and flashy clubs and then back to her penthouse.
And then one night, almost close to dawn, Alexis sent Sam home first. She was playing with other people tonight and had gotten annoyed with Sam. It had to grate her nerves, the way he obeyed on the surface but it never went any deeper, no matter how long she maintained the lies of their love for each other.
He followed her through the lightening night, to another vampire’s home. He snuck in with Lovely on his heels just before dawn trapped them all inside together. And then he and his Lovely killed everyone but Alexis.
He had questions but she had no answers. She threatened, begged, and cursed. She screamed for Sam even though he was out of earshot. There was a reason Vincent had waited until she was alone—so that she couldn’t force Sam to protect her.
Lovely yawned big and then zapped Alexis again. It was almost noon. They’d been at it for seven hours.
“I told you! I told you!” Alexis wailed. And she had. She had told them what she knew. Quinn had approached her with the idea of working together to each get what they wanted. He’d turned the wolf and they’d all left Dahlia together. She said they’d spent a few weeks together, the four of them, before losing interest in each other and going their own ways. Last she had known, he was heading west with Darlin.
Vincent stood over Alexis. She should have been a sister to him, a part of his family, but she wasn’t. Not even close. Sam was his family and Alexis had violated him and made him party to the death of his mate. What would that do to Sam? If he was there when it happened, if he saw it, he would remember. Just as he would remember anything and everything else she made him do those last five months.
Alexis stared back at him, eyes growing larger. She had realized why he was still asking—why they were still playing this game even though she had no more information. “You’re really going to kill me?” she whispered, truly shocked. And hurt?
Vincent tipped his head to the side, never taking his eyes off her. “Not until sundown,” he promised and then Lovely gave her another jolt right to the spine. He wouldn’t risk his brother waking up with all those memories and all that pain only to be alone with the sun for the next half-day. No. He’d let him sleep soundly before waking him up to hell.
-
Sam woke and it was like sitting up out of a fevered sleep. He looked around the room, confused for long seconds before her death registered in his bones and his blood. The veils Alexis had placed in his mind, the lies and the stories, were gone. They didn’t melt away slowly. They were just gone. His breath came faster and faster as the last five months rolled back on him. They were all his own memories, nothing was forgotten, but… But they meant more now. He understood what had happened now. He knew why he’d done what he’d done—how Alexis had invoked him and forced him to feel and think and do differently than he would have. That would have been a violation that had him screaming right now if it weren’t for all the memories of what he'd done to Darlin. Darlin.
He practically fell out of the large bed he’d shared with Alexis, clawing at his own chest and trying to breathe around the agony growing inside him. No. No! They were dead. His Darlin was dead. And he’d… Oh god.
He threw up on the floor, red sliding everywhere. He remembered them in Quinn’s arms. They’d shared the last drink. Sam had participated in their death and then just watched Quinn turn them like it was nothing to him.
And then…
He heaved again, struggling to breathe.
A door in the apartment splintered and flew open in the other room and for one delirious moment he was terrified that it would be Alexis again. That she would tell him to get back into her bed and he would do it—that she’d tell him what to say to her and he’d say it—that she’d move her hands over him and tell him to moan.
But Alexis was dead.
Vincent was beside him, on his knees in the blood, and wrapping arms around him.
“I know,” he kept saying, rocking him.
It was then that Sam realized he was crying, not just tears but whole-body wracking sobs. He hadn’t cried like that since they first let him be alone after she turned him. He’d been mourning his life then. What was he mourning now? Darlin’s life? Or his soul? Were they the same?
“Have they found Darlin?” Sam finally asked the only question that mattered. David would be looking for them, no matter what. He would find them and kill Quinn and they would be okay. As okay as they could be, anyway.
But Vincent didn’t answer.
Sam closed his eyes. If Darlin wasn’t found, then… Then they were still out there somewhere, with Quinn.
“So, he turned them?” Vincent asked carefully.
Sam dragged breaths, shaking, trying to get himself under control. “Yes.” They didn’t even know if Darlin was dead or not? That had to have been agony for their pack—not even knowing if they were looking for a vamp or proof of death. Guilt gnawed at his chest until he was sure it would kill him—but guilt had never been that merciful. “Quinn… The four of us traveled together for a while but Quinn and Alexis could never get along. Even when we went into a new city, we split up. I think Alexis was afraid Quinn would kill me and Alexis was definitely thinking about killing Darlin. The only thing keeping her from doing it was that she wasn’t sure she could kill Quinn too.”
“Even with you?”
He opened his eyes, staring through tears at the floor. “I don’t think she was sure I would help her, not enough to bet her life on it.”
Vincent still had his arms around him, brushing hair back from his face like he was a child. “Even though she could invoke you?”
He exhaled hard, remembering why. It was such a small thing but he remembered how upset she’d been. “They invoked us all the time, to say and do things. To think a certain way and feel a certain way. For long stretches they’d have us convinced we hated each other. But…” He tried to make sense of it. He’d felt like he hated Darlin. Annoyed at everything they said and did, and Darlin had been starting fight with him all the time. But sometimes, without realizing it, they’d find themselves holding hands. He’d blamed them and they’d blamed him in the moment but now…Now he thought it was just their bodies knowing the truth. “Sometimes we held hands. Sometimes we were soft despite all the bullshit.” He waved at his forehead as if the clouds that had been there were a real and physical thing to be swept away.
Vincent looked surprised but nodded slowly, accepting this information. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you soon,” he said, voice rough.
Sam laughed darkly. “You found me, Vin. It means everything. You killed her?”
Something dark rippled across Vincent’s features, there and then gone. He nodded once. “I tried to get information about Darlin and Quinn but she didn’t have much.”
Sam nodded grimly. After they parted ways, she hadn’t cared where the other two went as long as they didn’t cross her path again. Vincent pulled at his arms, easily dragging him to his feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up and out of here.” He walked him into the big bathroom, leaving doors open and flicking lights on. Sam didn’t argue, not even when Vincent stripped him down and put him in the shower. What pride or modesty did he have left to claim? How many times had Alexis showered with him now? He pushed the thoughts away and scrubbed himself down. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter right now, because whatever he’d gone through, Darlin had gone through worse. Darlin had died. Lost their wolf and been turned against their will.
They’d never even talked about it before. He thought they’d have so much time and it would come up naturally later on—when Darlin had more time to think about whether or not they’d want to be a vampire. And he’d been preparing himself for them to decide not to be. They were a wolf, after all. And who, if not him, could better understand wanting to live and die in their own time? That had been his plan once. He would have happily spent one, precious lifetime with Darlin and suspected he would have been looking after their pack forever after that.
But that wasn’t how things had happened.
Lovely appeared at the door of the bathroom but didn’t step over the threshold, just holding out a bag to Vincent. He took it and when Sam got out of the shower and dried off, he was relieved beyond belief to see his own clothes in that bag. He hadn’t thought about it yet, but he would have rather walked out of the building naked than put on anything here. Alexis had picked out everything—had her scent in everything.
He had to get out of this place before sunup. He couldn’t spend another night there or he’d throw himself off the fucking balcony and, as appealing at the idea of death seemed right then, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just check out and leave Darlin to whatever fate he’d helped seal for them.
He pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, his socks and his shoes.
“Your jacket’s in the car,” Lovely whispered from the door, not looking.
Sam’s heart softened just a tiny bit then, warming by the weight of what they had done—how far they had gone—and how much they had thought about him. “Thank you,” he said and meant it. The words would never be enough. He sighed, body heavy with a guilt he wasn’t sure would ever let up—wasn’t sure he deserved to shake. “Get me the hell out of here?”
Vincent cracked a smile and curled an arm around his back, steering him out of the bathroom and through the apartment. They followed Lovely into the hall and down through the upscale building.
-
The pack had taken turns on the search. Either David or Asher was always in Dahlia while the other was out hunting for Darlin.
And then the damnedest thing happened.
David woke up to his phone ringing. For a split second he wasn’t sure if he was on the road or home, but then Angel squirmed against his side and his bedroom came into focus around him. Home. He was home. He grabbed his phone and frowned. It was one in the morning. He answered because it was Arden. “What—”
“They’re here.”
“What?” he asked but he was sitting up. He knew.
Arden’s side of the call was loud, too many voices and music and the clanking of glasses. “I’m at that dive bar on 5th. Darlin is sitting ten people away from me right now. They’re…They’re a vamp,” their voice broke a little when they confirmed it. He couldn’t tell if it was relief or grief. He was already pulling on his pants and heading for the door, grabbing a shirt. “I don’t know what to… They haven’t even looked at me. I don’t think they recognize me… Is that possible? Should I talk to them—”
“No,” he snapped. “Are you alone?”
“I’m with Miguel and a couple of friends. Empowered friends…” they added, not sure if it mattered but obviously preparing for it to.
“Okay. Stay where you are, stay together. If they leave, try to follow, but don’t split up. If Darlin is there, then Quinn might be there too.” He hung up and told Angel where he was going before stepping into his boots and heading out, keys in hand.
He had to fight the urge to call Asher and tell him to come home. He needed to make sure this really was Darlin before getting anyone else’s hopes up. He tried to temper his own. Had they really just come home on their own? Or was Quinn fucking with them?
The drive felt ten times longer than normal. He parked in a no parking zone because what the fuck did he care if his truck got towed tonight? He walked in and took a moment. He spotted Arden and Miguel on the far side of the room and then, right there at the bar, was Darlin. They were wearing their usual boots and ripped jeans and leather jacket. They sat at the bar, working on a second beer and looking at their phone like they were anywhere else. Completely unaware of him. If they’d been a wolf, his wolf, they would have felt him walk in.
He pushed that thought aside. They would always be his family. He glanced around the busy bar but didn’t spot Quinn anywhere. There were only a handful of vampires, none of them seeming to be skulking about or paying any attention.
He did the only thing he could. He walked over to them and leaned his side into the bar, looking down at them. They were different in a thousand minute ways, but still Darlin. It was right there in the annoyed lift of their eyebrow when they took notice of him and turned just enough to look up. They took another long drink of their beer, just staring at him like they might any other night. “Are you going to tell me this is your seat?” they asked, flicking their gaze pointedly over him from head to toe, and then turning sideways on their stool to stare right at him. They smirked, flashing those sharp new fangs. “I wouldn’t mind starting a bar fight, big guy.”
David stared back, soaking everything in. They were acting so…normal. What had he expected? Tears? No. But he hadn’t expected to find them right there either. Why would they come back to Dahlia but not come find him? Were they just waiting from him to find them? “Wouldn’t be your first,” he said absently, still trying to wrap his head and heart around this. They were right there in front of him. Safe. Alive. Well, undead, but he’d take what he could get.
Darlin’s eyes narrowed and mouth twisted curiously at him. It wasn’t a normal reaction for them. It wasn’t one he’d ever seen. “Is that your way of saying I look like trouble?” They smirked a little, like they weren’t sure if they should take it as a compliment or an insult. And then they cocked their head to the side and flicked their gaze over him, gauging him, appraising him, flirting with him? What the fuck?
“When did you get back into town?” he asked, buying time. Something was wrong, more wrong than them being undead, more wrong than having been without them for nearly six months.
Darlin smiled but looked confused. “Get back?” They shook their head, taking another drink of their beer, finishing it off this time. “I think you’re mixing me up with someone else, big guy.” They scoffed when they put the bottle down, standing up this time.
David’s heart lurched in his chest. No. God, no. They started to walk away and he caught their arm. “Darlin?”
The vampire laughed, gaze shifting between his hand on their arm and back up to his face. “Nicknames already? I don’t really think that one suits me… Darlin’s don’t usually start bar fights, right?”
Their Darlin did. He forced himself to let go. He had been thinking about killing Quinn for months, ever since he stared at the hallway outside their apartment door, full of claw marks and blood splatter. “Sorry, you look like someone I know,” he said.
They grinned at that, turning to face him again, hands in their jacket pockets just like usual. “Really? Scars and all?” they sounded skeptical.
David nodded. “Scars and all.”
“Well, shit. If you find them, send them my way? Could be fun to have a doppelganger.”
David leaned back against the bar and then did the most unnatural thing in his life. He held out his hand to Darlin, a person he’d known almost his whole life, and introduced himself. They took his hand and he saw when they recognized his name—not immediately, but after a few seconds.
“As in Shaw Pack? That David Shaw?” They shook, their palm so cool against his warm. “So I guess if I was in your seat you really could have tossed me out for it.” Their hand returned to their jacket pocket, but they didn’t move to leave yet.
David shrugged. “I could have tried,” he said and they lit up. Fuck. They were so like themselves but not quiet. It was uncanny. It was horrifying. But at least he had eyes on them—at least he knew they were okay. Now, he just had to figure out how to keep them around. If he told them everything, they might not believe him. Quinn might have invoked a reaction to that truth, something that makes them resist believing it. “So, it’s your first time in Dahlia? Know someone in town?”
Darlin grinned, those teeth looked good on them. “Nope. Had this blow out breakup and ended up on the road. Just kind of landed here, you know? A stop on my way nowhere.”
David nodded like he didn’t care. He nodded like a liar. A breakup with Quinn? Somehow that made sense. Even invoked, Darlin wasn’t going to be pliable, and Quinn didn’t exactly have the longest attention span. But they’d come home. Darlin hadn’t known where they were going, but they’d come home. They’d driven to Dahlia and sat down in a bar smack in the middle of Shaw territory.
“Can I buy you a drink then? An apology for mistaking you for someone else.”
Darlin swayed, considering it before shrugging and sitting down again. “Never had a wolf buy me a drink before…”
Yes, you have. He gestured to the bartender for two more beers. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Misfit.”
David was grateful they weren’t looking at him—didn’t see the wince and snarl. Quinn had called them that—a reminder that they never belonged with their pack, with anyone, but him. Getting a closer look at them, Darlin looked…healthier. Which was almost hilarious considering they were undead. But they didn’t have the usual bags under their eyes or bruises or scrapes from scrapping with others. They had always lived rough. He supposed it didn’t mean that had changed, just that they healed faster now. The bartender brought them another round. David honestly couldn’t remember the last time he sat a bar with Darlin and had a drink, but they ended up sitting there for two hours.
Darlin had questions about Dahlia that anyone who’d never been before might and even got bolder later on to ask about being a wolf and having a pack.
“I can’t decided if that sounds great or terrible,” they confessed, laughing. “Having that many people in your family…”
“You don’t have many in your clan?” he asked, hoping it sounded easy.
Darlin snorted. “Just Quinn. He’s such a dick.”
“Your ex?”
“And maker.” They rolled their eyes. “Talk about complicated. I used to think he was just a narcissist but now I’m thinking he’s a masochist too.”
David watched them, definitely interested now but trying not to show too much. Darlin was always more perceptive than they let on and they had amazing instincts.
“I mean, what the fuck was he thinking turning me? Half the time he’s pissed I don’t do what he wants or adore him as much as he thinks he’s owed. The fucker keeps invoking me to make me do things,” their teeth ground a little on that before smirking, lifting the bottle they were working on. “But then I always make him pay for it later. Sometimes I’d attack him for no reason. At least, I don’t know what the reason is, but like, I know there is one, you know? Does that make sense? I guess I just sound like a psycho.”
David shook his head. “No, that makes sense. The invoking thing seems fucked up. You probably had good reasons even if you couldn’t remember them.”
Darlin glanced at him curiously then, maybe thinking his response was too correct? Too close to what they were thinking? “Isn’t it the same with wolves though? You’re alpha. You tell them to jump and they jump.”
David tensed, not liking the comparison at all. “True, but I guess the difference is that if I tell them to jump, they’re compelled by instinct to do it—to trust me—but if they decide not to, I can’t make them. If I give them reasons not to trust me, if I’m a bad alpha,” God it hurt even to say it. “Then they could vote to remove me from the position and give it to someone else.”
Darlin mulled that over, finishing their beer. “Huh. Definitely more democratic than vampires.”
He shrugged. “You should stick around for a while,” he chanced. The bar was close to closing. He had to find a way to stretch this out. “I’ve got some openings if you’re looking for work and could really use a vampire in the mix.” He’d never hired outside of the pack before and it wouldn’t be now even if they agreed—they just wouldn’t know that.
Darlin looked dubious, which he’d expected. Darlin never bit when offered a good thing too easily.
“Hours are shit, of course, and you might have to break up some brawls rather than start them.”
Darlin smiled then. “Punching people is punching people either way…” They got up just as the bartender was announcing closing.
David did the same, tossing bills onto the counter.
Darlin saw them, seemed to have done quick math and realized he’d paid for everything. They were instantly tense, calculating. David knew them so well that he could tell they were even considering his height to theirs and who had the advantage here in a fight. It would be him. It was his territory, his community, and he was an alpha, while Darlin was a new vamp alone. He had been planning to offer them a ride back to wherever they were staying but he decided against it right then. Darlin would assume he was after something else—maybe even that he thought he’d paid for it and was owed. Too many people had been wearing Darlin down long before Quinn showed up. It was instinct now, just like the instinct that brought them home to him.
He stretched and started for the door. “Tomorrow night? We can meet here and walk over to the den. You can meet my mate. You’ll like them. They also like the idea of starting bar fights.” It wasn’t a coincidence he mentioned Angel. He needed Darlin to believe he wasn’t after anything more than their company and maybe their muscle for hire.
Darlin nodded, hands in pockets, following him out of the building and onto the sidewalk. The sky was getting lighter by fractions and Darlin squinted at it like it was full sunlight blaring down on them. Some things had changed.
“You got someplace to crash for the day?” he asked, walking toward his truck, voice louder to cover the growing distance between them. Leaving them was the hardest thing he’d done in a long time. Everything in him wanted to scoop them up and bring them home with him—wanted to hold on to them no matter how they kicked and screamed and just know that they were safe because he could see them. But Darlin would kick and scream. Darlin would think they were being abducted and held prisoner, and then he would be holding them prisoner. He was prepared to do that too—if they tried to leave town. But God he didn’t want to cross that line. He didn’t want to be another villain in their life.
“Yeah,” Darlin called back, waving as they started in the opposite direction. “See you tomorrow.” And then they were gone, moving so fast that they were a blur of color.
David fought the sinking feeling in his gut that made him want to shift and hunt. He saw the glimmer of Arden down the street, darting from shadow to shadow in wolf form. Miguel would be close. He had texted them at the bar and told them to track Darlin but not to get caught. He just wanted to know where they were staying.
He got into his truck, closed the door and took deep breaths. They were alive. They were away from Quinn. There was so much to be grateful for.
His phone chimed almost ten minutes later when Arden told him where Darlin had gone.
He sighed and picked up the phone, sending a text to Vincent. He knew Vincent had recovered Sam last month and they’d still been out looking for Quinn. Sam hadn’t been back to Dahlia. David suspected he wouldn’t have come back without Darlin, not even when the search ended and Vincent and his mate came back to their throne. ‘Darlin is in Dahlia. No Quinn. No memories of us.’ He sent the text and then called Asher.
The sun was rising. At least he knew Darlin couldn’t go anywhere until sundown. Asher answered despite the hour. His voice was clipped, serious, lacking the usual cheer that had been so signature for him before. David would fix that too, as soon as all of this was done, as soon as they could be home again. “Darlin is in town,” he said. “I have eyes on them. They’re okay.” They weren’t, not really, but they were physically and unfortunately that was more than he'd been able to hope for before. He heard Asher exhale hard. He believed him, which was why he hadn’t called before he knew for sure. “I need you to find Quinn,” he said, like they hadn’t been searching all this time. Only, they’d been searching for a Quinn with Darlin. He told him the city where the two had parted ways. “He invoked them… They don’t remember us or who they are. They think he’s their ex-boyfriend.”
“What? If they don’t know who they are, then why did they go to Dahlia?”
“Instinct? They came home.” And David meant to keep them there.
“Okay.”
“Asher…” He didn’t know how to ask this because he wouldn’t command it. If they brought Quinn back to the Department alive, he might never let go of the invocations he’d made. The Department might lock him away forever for killing and turning Darlin like he did, but then again, they might not. They weren’t exactly good at justice or keeping hold of their own inmates.
David exhaled hard, so relieved that Asher understood what they had to do. “If you don’t want to do it, you can bring him back here—”
“I’ll handle it. You just keep eyes on our baby vamp.”
Our baby vamp. David almost smiled. Almost. He would when it was done. They would do whatever they had to to get Darlin through this. He knew they would assume they weren’t pack anymore—would mourn the wolf they had been and the family they’d had like it was lost—like it wasn’t so deeply a part of who they were that it could n ever be lost.
tagged by the amazing @ejunkiet and @glassbearclock
I haven’t done this is a while but I love reading others and there is just something really fun about sharing a snippet of what’s right in front of you!
This is a bit from the second part to the Hux/Darlin fic, Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.
David’s POV.
They were trusting him to help them figure out what sort of relationship they were in. So, he was going to try really hard to do exactly that and not judge the absolute shit out of this elemental or run him the fuck off the property.
All of that resolve strained when he actually saw the guy though.
He was big.
Of course, he was.
David tried not to imagine Darlin and this guy in a fight—tried not to compare him to previous assholes—tried not to think of Quinn.
“You okay?” Angel asked, voice low at his side and attention inconspicuously on the burgers he hadn’t flipped yet. They tugged the spatula from his hand and took over.
“Yeah,” he nodded, watching Darlin and their elemental talking to Babe and Stealth.
“He looks nice,” Angel said, still in that whisper so it was just between them and still playing it casual like they didn’t know what he was thinking.
He grunted once.
Angel bumped their hip to his. “Big doesn’t always mean bad.”
He looked down at them, at first not even realizing they were referring to him—to them. The idea that anyone might have looked at them together and thought the shit he was thinking about this stranger made his stomach roll.
if you haven’t done this recently and want to you should! it’s fun!
tagging @colloquialcolival @taelonsamada and @thatlesbeanjew if you waaaaant to! <3 <3 <3
i’m not tagging you @romirola only because you’re doing prompts right now and dishing out so many fics already but obviously if you want to share a snippet you know i’ll snap it up!
