Mourn Me: Basil Kingsley/Teddy Langston, hunter 'verse (I AM SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T KILL ME)
tw: death, blood, mutilation
The day Basil died, Teddy was close to following him.
He felt the life run out of him along with all that red, coming out of his nostrils and mouth, so much of it. Teddy tried to keep it all inside him, but it slipped through his fingers, Basil slipped from him and his green eyes became void. There was nothing left but the empty shell of an annoying brat he had fallen in love with.
The laughter of the demon, mocking his tragedy, had made him scream. He had poured holy water down its throat until its voice was no more, hacked every limb from the twisted, wretched creature’s body and burned it. It did nothing to soothe the pain running through every inch of him, tearing him apart like he had the demon. His arms had been covered in grime and blood and dirt, it had been splattered across his face, and even though it hadn’t been safe he had just sunk to his knees, gathered up Basil in his arms and held onto him for hours. In some mad way he had hoped it would bring him back to life.
He buried Basil in a glade near Oxford. No gravestone, nothing to mark where he would finally rest. Teddy parked the car nearby and stayed there for two weeks. He had no strength to move or eat. All he did was sleep, and drink. On the fifth day he found the granola bars Basil had bought to store in the jeep.
“We’ll need them one day, we’re always hunted by pretty much every kind of shit out there, can’t exactly stop at a five star restaurant for dinner.”
Teddy watched the rain run down the windows of the car, his whole body convulsing with loss.
“It’s kinda funny. We’re supposed to be hunters, but more often than not they’re the ones hunting us.”
He finally ate the granola bars when he couldn’t stand up any longer.