TIMING: current SETTING: the emergency room PARTIES: @muertarte + @rn-zane SUMMARY: metzli drops someone off at the hospital, zane spots them and really wants to help the vampire, too.
The streets of Wicked’s Rest were always a danger to walk in, but under the shroud of night, a completely separate kind of darkness fell into bloom. Red eyes, gnawing teeth, and the like, all seeking out a proper meal to calm the insatiable hunger. Humans were prey, unknowingly so, and while most would rather keep it that way, Metzli had vowed to end that war inside themself.
The price was small, but worth it, even if others thought them less for it. Attacked them. But maybe that was because they had gotten in the way of someone else’s war. That price was small too. A few gashes and bites here and there. Metzli paid them no mind, finding that the dust now covering their skin was far more painful as they marched into the emergency room, victim in tow over their shoulder.
“They are hurt.” Metzli droned, handing the would-be blood packet to the stunned nurse running the desk. You look hurt, too, she said. Let me— but before she could reach them, Metzli took a large step back and shook their head. They caught a familiar face in their periphery, growing stiff. Zane. It was time to go.“Bye,” Metzli said, turning and walking away to head home.
The drop ins were always trouble. It helped immeasurably to have at least some shred of information about what was coming their way when the ambulances radioed in, let the staff know what to prepare for, who to drag from the less sick patients. Sadly, the fact of it being trouble for the staff did little to stop it, the injured and even half-dead somehow finding their way through the front doors with no warning.
Zane noticed the commotion by way of a stretcher being hastily barrelled down the hall, immediately catching his attention. Excusing himself to the patient expectantly holding out their arm for a blood pressure reading, he dropped the cuff and hurried to the front desk. A couple of the other nurses had already rounded on the new patient along with a doctor, leaving Zane to survey the rest of the scene and catch the gaze of someone who had clearly not wanted to be seen.
Without a second thought, he jogged over to them, already taking note of the marks he recognized with eerie ease littering their skin. “Let me check you out? Please? Just a couple of minutes, no other staff.” Keeping pace with them, resisting the urge to make any sort of threatening gesture like grab or block Metzli’s way, Zane hoped that his pleading expression would have any effect.
—-
“Leave me alone.” Metzli shot back, with no room to argue back. Though, they were positive that the vampire they hadn’t seen since the commotion that left multiple of their friends hurt would try anyway. He made mistakes, too stubborn to leave things be. That was what Metzli saw anyway. They judged harshly, too stubborn in their own way.
So when he continued to follow along with each large stride in their gate, Metzli growled and whipped around on their heel. Facing him, they warned him with a vicious red pooling in their eyes. “I said…” His eyes were too soft, and the next warning died in their throat. The kindness in his eyes was almost palpable, all too revealing. He did want to help, and he did feel genuine concern. Eyes never lied.
They took a deep breath, smelling chemicals and that all too enticing scent of life lingering just beneath. But that could have been themself too. How did he do it, they wondered? Was saving lives what he did? How many people had he gotten killed? Was it right of Metzli to wonder that when they’d only seen the one mistake? Granted, it cost many lives. They weren’t sure what to think, and they supposed it was better not to.
“Fine.”
The muscles of his jaw stiffened at the harsh command, their words icy and sharp in a way that let them burrow down deep. To only have met someone once and for that to be the setting… At the very least with Wynne, he’d had the flimsiest of ground to stand on - a few discussions, Ariadne vouching for him. Metzli had only seen the carnage, had been the carnage. Even though Zane hadn’t directly dragged them into it, their cold front seemed deserved. Didn’t persuade him from playing catch up, though, but he stopped instantly when Metzli did.
Their eyes burned too but it was different from last time. It was the same shade of red but there was emotion behind them other than the rage he’d previously seen, had almost been subject to helping to drag Metzli away from the flames. Zane swallowed thickly, ready to back off before he started doing harm but then they stopped. Pondered. He stayed quiet, stayed still even though he itched to look around and check if anyone was close enough to take note of Metzli’s eyes. And then they gave in.
Zane took a useless breath of his own, the smallest of smiles emerging. “Thank you,” he breathed, gesturing for Metzli to follow before they changed their mind. The closest area, privacy provided in the form of drapes, was thankfully empty and Zane quickly shut the two vampires from sight. He hadn’t missed the curious looks coming from the front desk but he’d make up some story later. “You fought someone off?” he asked quietly, thankful for the familiar work of pulling out saline and gauze. From experience, he didn’t think vampires really got skin infections but Metzli probably didn’t want those wounds closing up around the dust he could only guess had been someone. He moved slowly, predictably, every motion obvious in its intent and providing ample opportunity for the other vampire to stop him if they so wished. Starting on the arm, he set to work cleaning out the first cut.
They walked back together quietly, only releasing an unexpected groan once the thrumming lights struck their eyes painfully. The air was sterile and the sheets crinkled with a stiffness that had no possibility of providing warmth, let alone comfort. It was a place that Metzli had never found themself in for countless reasons. Money, ignorance, availability, their death. Couldn’t really take vitals on someone whose heart made no beat and whose lungs only functioned through will.
Besides, whatever a doctor could do for Metzli, they could just do themself. And they had on numerous occasions, rarely allowing anyone to provide the care they already knew how to perform. Leila was one of the chosen few, Honey being the first, and now a young vampire had somehow convinced them to become his patient. Metzli couldn’t help but wonder if he’d actually be able to handle the years and terrors that marred their body. There was only one way to find out, and only a mere moment to wait once they were behind a curtain.
“Yes, another one of…us.” They lifted their shirt as high as they could to reveal two other deep and jagged wounds. As best they could, they adjusted their binder, revealing as much torn skin as they could until they realized it wasn’t enough. Removing the shirt completely, Metzli stiffened their posture as Zane touched their arm to begin his work on the smaller wounds. They watched him carefully, noting the way he moved in kind. As if he knew how easily Metzli would sprint out of the hospital if the wrong move was made. It was strange, as kind as it was.
“Why do you help me?
It was still so clear that they didn’t want to be here, Metzli radiating that fact but still complying with Zane’s selfish need to patch them up. All odds pointed to them being fine even if he let them walk out of here but aside from just wanting to do something for the vampire that had had his and Emilio’s back way back when, it would make for nicer scars. Metzli already had plenty and most likely couldn’t care less - maybe he’d get to know their reasoning for sticking around at some point. “Yeah, I figured, judging from the person you came in with.”
His focus shifted when Metzli willingly revealed their torso, showing where they had (hopefully) taken the brunt of the damage. Could have gone worse, all things considered - the fact that Metzli had gotten the would-be victim of the other vampire away semi-safely alluded to the fact that ‘the other guy’ was much worse off. There was no objection to his work, only a shift in their posture that Zane assumed had nothing to do with any sort of physical pain. The question caught him off guard, hands stilling for a moment before they continued the almost soothing work of cleaning, bandaging and stitching where necessary.
“Because helping’s my job. Because you helped me, which I know was technically you helping Emilio but… still counts. Because you helped that person you brought in.” Zane’s gaze flickered to their face momentarily before returning to the current tear he was closing up. “Why did you help that human?” he countered after a moment of silence.
—
“How many years?” They asked bluntly, eyes glued to every subtle twitch Zane made. “I mean, like this.” A whisper, “Vampire.” It seemed impossible for a vampire to wedge themself into a life filled with medical procedures that exposed them to blood. Every patient was a meal. Or at least, a possible one.
What did he do when his eyes shifted and his fangs extended? Did people even notice? And if they did, was he still a monster when his hands provided healing? Metzli wondered and wondered, watching said hands intensely. They barely managed to register he was speaking to them, and for a few moments, they simply blinked. Why did they help that human? Their morals had hardly changed, blood was still food, but now everything felt so much…more. Metzli found themself experiencing unexpected emotions to situations they’d gone through countless times since Chuy’s death.
Needless to say, their state was permanent, but they weren’t sure if it was a positive one or not. They just knew one thing. “Want to be…good monster.” Metzli shrugged slightly, mindful to not impede any of Zane’s progress. “Seeing them scream for help make…chest tight. Did not know what I was doing until there was dust on my hands. This does not have sense.”
Sometimes patients wanted to keep a close eye on his movements, see how exactly he was working, where and why. Usually that was due to curiosity, in rare cases distrust. Zane wasn’t sure he’d ever felt a gaze as scrutinous as this, though. The questions, blunt as they were, proved a decent distraction from Metzli’s stare. “About a year and a half,” he answered, meeting their gaze for the briefest of moments before he was moving on to the next gash. On a human, this probably would have needed a surgical suite, antibiotics, bed rest. For Metzli, Zane’s very basic stitching skills would do.
Their answer was… well, it tugged violently at Zane’s heart. A good monster. There had to be such a thing, right? Was that what Emilio saw him and others like him as? Maybe it depended on the definition of a monster - if it was only defined by its actions, then calling it good would be a paradox. But if the lack of a heartbeat, the unnaturally colored eyes and sharp fangs were what constituted a monster, surely the actions could prove it to be good. Neutral, at the very least, provided that you couldn’t erase the bad stuff but simply reached a sort of plateau at some point. “Why can’t that make sense? You saw someone in danger, you wanted to help them. That doesn’t have to contradict what you… what we need to survive. If you choose for those two things to coexist, I think they can.”
“Mhmm.” They let the silence fill the room for a while, watching how the way Zane’s hands moved looked a little monotonous. A second nature that he had adapted well to. Well enough to let his hands get stained with red and keep his mouth clamped shut. Perhaps he was a good monster too, in his own right. Metzli believed so, even if he had a propensity to be an idiot. Though that wasn’t really fair for them to assume off of one instance.
He followed his instincts and obeyed the commands of another much more powerful than him. In his position, Metzli knew they would’ve done the same. Because they already had. That was the reason they were so upset by what he did, wasn’t it? Anger at themself simmered into a boil, seeping over and burning Zane in the process. The cycle had to end at some point, and with both Eloy and Chuy gone, Metzli wasn’t sure how it had still persisted all that time. Months had passed, and yet, their pain continued to echo impressively loud. Maybe it always would.
“I am this for one-hundred-thirty years.” Metzli finally said, feeling the stitches close little by little. “Not a lot make sense. Always think there is good and evil. That is it. That is all.” They shook their head with a grimace, “But this is not true, and many times they are…” Metzli wasn’t sure how to describe it, but they did their best by raising their only hand and presented Zane with their index and middle finger crossed. “Everything changes all the time. Good becomes bad.” Tears welled in their eyes, thoughts drifting to Cass. “And bad becomes good.” What they sought to be. “We just have choices to pick. I think you pick okay sometimes.”
The quiet dragged on, interrupted only by distant chatter and beeping from machines that Zane no longer registered as long as it was the ‘everything is fine’ sort of beeping. He wondered if he should have reached out sooner, asked Emilio to make contact with Metzli. Their last and only interaction had been less than ideal, with Zane holding the trashing vampire back so they wouldn’t hurt someone they weren’t supposed to. Hurt the people he had already hurt. Zane wondered which part of what had happened was the cause for the disdain in Metzli’s eyes before they had softened and allowed him to treat their wounds. The clan itself, that he had scarred Wynne, that Metzli had been forced to kill their own kind, that Zane had been the one to physically overpower them?
Metzli spoke again, thankfully breaking the silence and the whirlwind of questions. “Wow,” he breathed, thinking that it was no wonder they looked so worn out behind the dark eyes. All those years. Zane wondered if he would want to stick around that long. His gaze moved to Metzli’s fingers and he couldn’t help the soft smile at their simple but somehow perfect explanation. His smile softened even further at what he perceived to be the most genuine of compliments. It felt similar to an Emilio compliment, where you couldn’t just take the words at their face value. “Thanks. I definitely try to. But it’s like you said, when the two are so intertwined, sometimes the lines get a bit blurry. Make it hard to see clearly what’s good.” Like killing one of your kind to save an innocent human. Well, presumed innocent.
“It seems like you’re picking okay too, now.” A pause. “I think it’s like with Emilio. Knowing us, letting us live. That probably lands somewhere between the good and bad, I think.”
“Hm.” A small smile ticked up the corner of their lips and they offered a single nod as they looked at their wounds. Thankfully, it looked like Zane had finally finished his work, and Metzli was grateful. Both for his help and that their time together had come to a close. Gratitude didn’t mean they were crazy enough to have more small talk. Metzli was a lot of things, but they weren’t a masochist.
“Thank you for your help.” They bowed their head and grabbed their shirt, putting it back on as they stood. A groan escaped before they could suppress it, and they rolled their eyes at themself in annoyance. Ever since Chuy died, Metzli’s ability to be unfazed by injuries had waned significantly, but they at least still had the ability to heal quickly. So long as they ate, at least.
It looked like a hunt was in order.
Metzli shoved the curtain aside and regarded Zane one last time before they made their way out of the hospital. “Have a good night, Zane. You are not stupid like I think.”
A lot of things could feel rewarding in his line of work - actual life saving measures, helping ease someone’s pain or worry, just being a shoulder to lean on. Metzli’s barely there smile was one of those things, making his chest light up with that lovely but hard to name feeling. They probably didn’t care all that much about the stitches, seeming to simply appreciate the handiwork as adequate from the nod, but perhaps rather smiling at the change in their relationship. From almost dying to help him out and going feral to… acquaintances? Zane hoped it was something like that, Metzli was far from easy to read.
“It was nothing. And you’re always welcome to contact me if you get all…” Zane waved his hand, “banged up again. Even when I’m not at work, I have stuff at home to help.” He had no way of telling if Metzli would actually take him up on the offer but it felt nice to have extended it, either way. He hoped they would. Trying and probably failing to hide the slight worry on his face as Metzli groaned, Zane knew he needed to let them go. No use pushing his luck. The curtain opened and to his surprise, Metzli paused before their departure. Huffing out a laugh at their… well, compliment? - Zane shook his head softly and went to work cleaning up the supplies used. Feeling unburdened now by a weight he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying around.