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what if there were two (side by side in orbit)

(chapter 3 here)

Chapter 4

Nico is Nico, and he’s doing the best he can with that. *warning for minor character death (off-camera)

February 1999

Will unlocks his apartment door, still pleased with their work today. Not only were he and Nico easily able to solve a case that had stymied local PD as well as several other agents at the Bureau, but they managed to keep the important parts of their investigation above-board, no complaints from the AD’s office. Will hangs his coat and drops his bag to the floor.

“Yeah, he just walked in. Hold on,” he hears Kayla say as she rounds the corner. Kayla rolls her eyes as she hands Will the cordless phone. Will raises his eyebrows in a wordless query and Kayla mouths, “your boyfriend.”

Will scowls, batting at her, and Kayla grins, dancing out of reach. Nico and Kayla haven’t actually met face to face yet, but Kayla’s begun teasing her brother that she talks to Nico more than she talks to Will.

“Hey,” Will says into the phone. Five months into working together and it isn’t unusual for Nico to call him at home. The first time, he’d simply been bursting to share information about a case, and Will got the impression he couldn’t quite help himself. But since then, they talk off-hours several times a week, when one or the other has had some sort of epiphany, or seen an interesting article. Sometimes, more recently, just to check in.

“How much do you know about vampires?” Nico asks, straight into it.

Will scoffs, grinning. He tucks the phone against his shoulder and heads to his bedroom. “You mean besides the fact that they don’t exist?”

Nico huffs. “Stories of vampires are found in cultures all over the world, Solace.”

Will drapes his jacket over a chair in the corner of the room. It’s probably good for one more wear. “Okay, so you’re saying that just because similar myths about similar creatures emerged in different locales, they must be real?”

“Ye of little faith,” Nico says loftily, and Will laughs. It’s hard to deny the appeal when Nico gets like this. They may not always agree on the basics, but Will thinks he could (okay, he has) spend hours just listening to the rise and fall of Nico’s voice as he tumbles out facts and stories about every little thing that catches his interest.

“There’s a case just outside of Columbia,” Nico’s saying. “Little town called St. Ambrose. Farming community. Multiple dead cows found over the last six weeks with dual puncture marks in their necks. Completely exsanguinated.”

“Huh,” Will considers, grabbing sweats out of his drawer and dropping to the bed. “Sounds weird, all right. There could be any number of explanations, though. Puncture wounds could be syringe marks, meant to give the appearance of fangs, for instance. You think the Bureau wants to pay for us to drive down to South Carolina to look at dead cows?”

“Not just cows,” Nico says, “One dead human, similar puncture marks.”

“Exsanguinated?”

“Yeah. Mostly.”

“Huh.”

“And four sheep. Why am I getting the feeling that you’re not taking this seriously?” Nico asks, and Will laughs.

“I’m taking it very seriously. I swear. Nico, I literally just walked in the door and I’m hungry enough to eat an exsanguinated sheep. Can I call you back?”

Nico snorts. “Fine, fine. We’ll talk more tomorrow. I gotta go pick up my dry cleaning before they close anyway.”

Will hears the phone ring again just as he’s about to step in the shower and he rolls his eyes, smiling. Kayla can take a message.

When he emerges fifteen minutes later, cleaner but now even hungrier, he finds Kayla sitting on the couch staring into the middle distance. There’s something telling on her face.

Will’s footsteps stutter to a stop. “What’s up?”

She sighs, turning to face him. “Dad’s dead, Will.”

A massive coronary, Will’s mom told him when he called her, the funeral already set for two days later.

Will can’t decide how he feels. He and his father haven’t had an easy relationship. They haven’t had much of a relationship at all in the last decade, honestly. But there’s no changing the fact that it’s his dad.

He and Kayla make it through airport security with time to spare, and they sit side by side at their gate in silence.

“Thanks,” Will says, reaching over to squeeze Kayla’s knee. “I know you didn’t - you wouldn’t have…” he shrugs, his throat tight. Kayla puts her hand over his, squeezes.

Kayla’s relationship with their father has been decidedly less complicated than Will’s – aided, probably, by the fact that it’s been largely non-existent. Will doesn’t think Kayla’s harboring any regrets about that fact.

They’re both well aware that Kayla’s only coming along for Will’s benefit, and he loves her for it more than he can say. Austin won’t be showing up at all, and that’s completely fine too. Will would never hold it against his younger brother. If someone had asked Will a week ago how he’d feel about his dad’s passing, he never would have expected to feel as broken as he does.

The next 48 hours are a bit of a blur, alternately dragging unbearably and zipping by so quickly that Will keeps losing track of which day it is. He gets to see all the cousins, which is nice, he supposes. Will’s always been close to his mom, and as adults he, Kayla, and Austin had grown much closer than they were as children. But Will’s never felt he fit in properly in his extended family. Every time he returns, he thinks that maybe adulthood will have softened the edges of those relationships, but it hasn’t happened yet. The nice thing about adulthood though, he thinks wryly, is he can simply leave.

The night before he and Kayla are scheduled to fly back to DC, Will finds himself seated on the porch swing outside his mother’s rambling farmhouse. Kayla’s disappeared for the evening to visit some high school friends, and most of the out-of-town visitors have gone back where they came from. The night air is much warmer than DC at this time of year, and Will closes his eyes to the sound of crickets chirping in the yard, the far-away hum of cars on the highway.

Will’s bone-tired, spent. It’s always good to see his mom, but with a twinge of guilt, he finds himself wishing he was spending this evening settled into his apartment in DC, readying himself for whatever mystery tomorrow might bring.

The screen door creaks and slams, and Will glances up to see his mom making her way across the porch carrying two glasses of iced tea. She hands one to Will and he scoots over, making room on the swing. Neither of them speaks for a long moment, just the clink of ice in glasses and the soft squeak of the swing.

“You’re looking good, kiddo,” Naomi Solace says softly, setting down her glass and reaching over to squeeze Will’s hand.

Will laughs, short. “I haven’t slept properly in three days. I can’t remember if I showered this morning.”

“I know. But besides that,” Naomi says. “You seem… more settled. Than last time I saw you.”

Will considers this. “Yeah. Maybe.” He’s feeling so scattered right now that it’s hard to remember his normal state. But he thinks it might be true. “Work is good,” he says slowly. “I feel like… I think I’m helping people. Trying, anyway.”

Naomi nods. “You’re a good kid, Will. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Will laughs weakly. “Do I?”

“Yes,” his mother says, certain. “You do. Maybe you’re a little like me, that way,” she muses, shifting to tuck her legs up under her. “We don’t always get it right on the first try, but we get there in the end. Sometimes you just have to take a more meandering path. Take in the scenery along the way.”

Will nods slowly. “Are you talking about you and dad?”

Naomi sighs, taking a sip of her tea and gazing out at the darkened yard. “I wasn’t. But I suppose I could have been. Your dad and I were just never meant to be married. That was my mistake. I think I’ll always be sorry for the effect it had on all of you kids.”

“Mom. Don’t do that. We’re fine. You can’t…” Will shakes his head, lost for words. “My relationship with Dad was between me and him.” He pauses as his voice goes weak again. Surely he should be cried out by now? “I’ve never blamed you for any of that,” he says, his voice stronger. “I don’t want you to, either.”

Naomi gives him a half-smile, squeezing his hand. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Will gazes out into the night. He feels a prickle behind his eyes, the promise of yet more tears. But he can’t not ask.

“I – I know Dad and I hadn’t talked much these last few years,” Will begins. He stops, swallows. “But do you think – do you think he was proud of me?” Will’s voice breaks.

“Oh baby,” Naomi says immediately, leaning over to pull Will into her arms. “Yes. Of course he was proud of you. He was your dad.”

Kayla’s already left for work when Will wakes on Thursday morning to the sunlight creeping in through the blinds in his bedroom. He’d tossed and turned most of the night, finally falling into an uneasy sleep just before dawn.

He showers and dresses. Stares into the fridge for a moment before closing it again. There’s a light pounding in his temples and a twist to his gut, and he can’t quite stomach the idea of eating anything. He forces down a glass of water and makes coffee.

By late morning, Will finds himself at a loss. In their rush to book plane tickets and leave town earlier this week, Will had only managed to leave a quick voicemail for Nico and make a hurried call to the AD. She’d sounded uncharacteristically sympathetic, assuring Will she’d let Nico know of his pending absence and telling him not to worry about returning to work until at least next week.

And that sounds nice, in theory. But after two hours awake and alone in the apartment, Will finds himself almost subconsciously dressing for the office – pulling on his coat, locking the door behind him and walking to the metro.

Everything feels out of sorts. It’s no longer rush hour, so there’s plenty of room to sit. The people traveling at this time of day aren’t dressed for nine-to-five – moms with small children, old ladies headed out to appointments and shopping. Will’s felt out of place all this week, and it’s going to continue, it seems.

He passes through security and makes a beeline to the stairwell, hoping to avoid running into any co-workers who might have questions, or condolences.

Nico makes a quick scan of the office, a double-check to make sure he’s remembered everything. He’s gotten so used to having Will there whenever he turns around, the now-familiar routine of each of them reassuring the other they haven’t forgotten anything important before leaving on a road trip. Nico feels a little lost without it.

Nico turns in surprise to the basement office door squeaking open. “Will – hey. I didn’t expect to see you at all this week.” He takes a step closer to the taller man, then stops.

Will offers a half-smile. “Here I am.” He looks exhausted – his eyes shadowed, posture wilted. “I tried staying home this morning…” Will trails off, then shrugs, shaking his head. He turns to hang his coat.

“You were in Fort Worth?”

“Yup.”

“When did you get back?”

“Last night.” Will drops into his chair, turning to face Nico. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Nico frowns. “Will. You don’t – you don’t have to be here.”

“I’m here.” Will says firmly. “I want to be here. Come on, di Angelo. Get me up to speed. Vampires, right? Or did I miss the vampires?”

Nico shakes his head, unsure. “No, you didn’t. You’re just in time, actually.” They gaze at each other for a moment. ‘I’m sorry about your dad,” Nico says softly.

Will sighs. “Thanks. Me too.”

Nico had wanted to call immediately when he got Will’s voicemail earlier this week, had been halfway through dialing Will’s number before faltering, then hanging up. He’s repeated the process half a dozen more times in the intervening days, too worried that he’d be intruding.

Now, there’s a long pause in which Nico tries to summon the courage to offer a hug, or at least a pat on the back. But he can’t quite convince himself to take the few steps into Will’s space that it would require. Will would do it, he thinks, no qualms at all if their positions were reversed.

But Nico is Nico, and he’s doing the best he can with that.

“So,” Will says, clearly trying for an upbeat tone. “Vampires?”

An hour later they’re on the highway, heading south. Nico begins a recap of the information they know so far – exsanguinated livestock with apparent bite marks, similar puncture marks and cause of death on one deceased tourist from New Jersey, male, age 53, and, as of last night, a second one as well – female, age 62, visiting from Florida.

Everything in his head seems to settle, somehow, as Nico begins talking. The buzz of disjointed thoughts, his plans for the investigation, even the route he’s plotted out for their drive. He’s been fine without Will here this week, really. It’s been quiet. Maybe a little dragging. Fine, though.

But god, this is so much better.

Nico’s gaze flicks over to his partner as they leave DC in the rearview. Will still looks tired, but there’s a ease to his posture, his head tilted toward Nico, listening. His lips twitch up when Nico’s hand rises from the gearshift to emphasize a point, an expansive gesture in the little car.

They’re just passing the last exits for Fairfax when Nico glances over again to see Will fast asleep, head tilted back against the seat. He feels a rush of sympathy. He bumps down the volume on the stereo. He drives.

Will blinks his eyes open to a motel parking lot, streetlights casting the interior of the sedan in dim orange light. It’s fully dark outside. He turns to see Nico next to him, the driver’s seat pushed back and a pile of papers in his lap. He’s managed to park in such a way that the streetlight illuminates the papers he’s holding.

“Jesus. How long did I sleep?” Will asks, his voice raspy. His mouth is dry, cottony, his eyes itchy.

Nico glances over, then dog-ears a page in the file he’s been reading before closing it. “Almost five hours.”

“Shit. Sorry.” Will pushes himself upright, scrubbing at his eyes.

Nico shrugs. “You looked like you needed it.” He begins gathering the papers he’s spread out across the front seat and the dashboard. “Thought you’d wake up when I stopped for gas, or when I went in to book the motel rooms, but you were out like a light.” He gives Will a small smile.

Will shakes his head. “Yeah. I haven’t slept well in… well. I haven’t been sleeping.”

Nico just nods.

“Starlight Galaxy?” Will asks, squinting out the window at the sign above the motel. “Sounds classy.”

“You know it.”

Files collected and stowed back in his bag, Nico opens his car door. Will follows suit, standing and stretching from toes to fingertips. There’s a stubborn kink in his neck, his legs stiff. He tilts his head from side to side, taking in the slope of the freeway exit, just a few blocks down the road, the humidity in the air.

“Where are we?” Will asks. He knows Nico hadn’t planned to drive all the way to South Carolina today. He’s feeling completely disoriented, having missed most of the journey. It’s not like him to fall asleep in cars.

“Ah. Just outside of Fayetteville,” Nico says, glancing over his shoulder just as Will stumbles on a curb. Nico reaches out to grab his arm, brow furrowed.

“I’m okay,” Will assures him. “Still waking up.”

There’s a little diner nearby, and Will finds himself hungrier than he’s been in days, making his way through an enormous burger and a heap of fries.

“I fell asleep in the middle of your vampire lecture,” Will realizes suddenly, as the waitress finally clears their plates.

Nico’s lips quirk. He’s cast his coat and jacket aside, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair is just a little overlong, a soft curl of it falling into his face. Will wants to brush the hair off his forehead, trace a finger down his exposed forearm. The whole tableau is incredibly distracting, and Will glances away. As he’s told himself repeatedly over the last five months, there’s no need to have this reaction to Nico simply because he’s the only man Will’s spent any significant amount of time with lately.

“It’s fine,” Nico teases. “You only hurt my feelings a little.”

Will breathes out a laugh. “I promise it wasn’t personal. Wanna pick up where you left off? I’m all ears.”

Nico watches him for a moment, his gaze warm. Will tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. God, he’s being ridiculous. He’ll blame it on the stress of the week he’s just had.

“Vampires can wait. We should get you to bed,” Nico says, and at least this time it’s him who goes red, quickly dropping Will’s gaze.

“Well, if you’re offering,” Will manages, light as he can.

Nico snorts, pushing himself up from the table. “You know what I meant,” he mutters, and Will grins.

Despite his hours-long nap, Will’s still exhausted when he falls into bed. But sleep won’t come and the quiet in the motel room sounds louder and louder until Will finally gets up to find the TV remote, settling on an old episode of This Old House. After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, he eventually wakes to sunlight, static on the TV and Nico knocking at the door.

“Give me ten minutes?” Will yells. The knocking stops, apparently in agreement. When Nico returns, he’s grabbed them both coffee. They pilfer muffins, doughnuts and an apple apiece from the motel’s continental breakfast before they’re back on the road.

“How’d you sleep?” Nico asks, glancing over as he nudges the car up to speed. Will just shakes his head, enough of an answer.

Will thinks he manages about forty-five minutes of Nico’s vampire briefing this time before passing out against the passenger side window. He wakes to a gentle shake of his shoulder and the golden arches beckoning welcomingly above the windshield.

Will blinks up at Nico, bleary. “Fuck. I did it again.”

Nico’s eyes are dancing with humor. “You did. Now I’m starting to get a little offended.”

Will groans. “I’m so sorry, I swear I never even fall asleep in cars –”

But Nico’s shaking his head, grinning. “Seriously Solace, it’s fine. Sleep when you need to sleep.”

“Maybe I’m developing narcolepsy,” Will mutters, reaching for his styrofoam cup of now-cold coffee and draining it before following Nico into the restaurant. Normally, he finds he’s never able to trust anyone or their driving enough to sleep, but with Nico… well. That’s certainly not something Will’s planning to spend any more time thinking about.

They arrive in St. Ambrose late in the afternoon, heading straight to the tiny police station.

“Should have brought my cowboy hat,” Nico mutters under his breath as they cross the parking lot.

Will hums in agreement. He feels safe enough in most situations when he’s protected by his suit, badge and gun. But taking in their surroundings… well. This doesn’t particularly feel like a welcoming space for anyone who doesn’t fit the mold. Will hasn’t had any confirmation of his partner’s sexuality, but he has his suspicions. And he can’t help but wonder if Nico feels the same way, assesses new situations with a similar paradigm.

The police station is the smallest Will’s ever seen, tacked on like an afterthought to a small funeral parlor and a makeshift morgue space. He checks in to get on with the autopsy on the most recent victim while Nico follows the sheriff to a nearby cemetery. They agree to meet afterwards in front of the Budget Host Inn – easy enough to find as it’s the tallest building in town.

Will falls into his work. The autopsy is soothing, somehow, almost meditative – the familiar procedure coming to Will’s hands without much thought. He assesses, records, observes. And it’s just as Nico described - two small puncture wounds in the victim’s neck, the body mostly drained of blood. The victim’s last meal included mushrooms and some kind of sausage, Will notes idly. Interesting. Will’s pretty sure the previous victim’s stomach contents were the same.

The police station is a mere two blocks from the Budget Host, and Will’s happy enough to stretch his legs and take in the last of the sunset as he makes his way to the motel. He’s hungry, legs aching from standing over a body for hours.

Nico’s waiting for him in the parking lot.

“So, they only had one room left,” Nico says, apologetic, as soon as Will’s close enough to hear him. “Guy at the front desk says there’s a convention and everything’s booked up. So you can stay here.” Nico presses a key into Will’s hand. “There’s another hotel up the road. I’ll go see if they have a vacancy.”

Nico turns back to the car, and Will grabs his arm. “Hey, wait.”

Nico turns back, his eyes just a bit wide. Will immediately drops his arm. “There are two beds, right? In the room here?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m fine with sharing a room if you are. It’s been a long day, we’re both tired.” Will shrugs. “Makes more sense than you driving all over the county trying to find another hotel.”

Nico looks hesitant, studying Will’s face as if he’s going to find some argument there to contradict what Will’s just said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. Growing up, we’d have six of us sharing a hotel room. The hotels only allowed four and we had to sneak the other two kids in. Two to a room is luxury.”

Nico still looks unconvinced. “You sure you don’t want more privacy than that? I know it’s been a rough week for you.”

Will shrugs, glancing away. It has, but – “I actually wouldn’t mind the company. If you’re okay with it.”

With that, they drop their things in the room and head to the bar at the end of the street.

“Autopsy didn’t yield any additional information, by the way,” Will says as they walk. “I sent off for a tox screen, but we won’t get the results back until at least tomorrow. How was the cemetery?”

Nico shakes his head. “Nothing to write home about. No evidence of vampiric activity that I could see.”

Will restrains himself from scoffing, but he’s pretty sure that Nico can tell. There’s no offense on his face, amused.

“What’s your theory, then?” Nico asks, lips quirking.

“Well,” Will considers it for a brief moment. “Ritualistic bloodletting could point to cultists of some sort.”

Nico huffs. “Your cultists have some sharp little teeth.”

Will nods solemnly. “You’re right. It’s probably that Mexican goatsucker.”

“El Chupacabra?” Nico asks. “Not in this case. They have four fangs, not two. Besides, they suck goats, not cows or sheep. All the evidence so far points to classic vampirism, Solace.”

“If you say so,” Will says. “We can stock up on garlic on our way back to the motel.”

They turn into the bar’s parking lot, a weaving path between pickup trucks. There are several motorcycles parked in the glow of the neon lights in front of the building.

Looking around, Will realizes they’re ridiculously out of place in the bar, both of them in suits and ties surrounded by a sea of cowboy hats and the occasional biker jacket. They’re certainly attracting some curious looks.

But Nico’s there. It’s odd how that seems to make so many things easier to take, lately. It softens edges, blurs lines. The persistent feeling Will’s always had of not quite fitting in, the blanket of grief and loss that’s trailed him around all week.

The hostess seats them in a booth near the small dance floor, and they both idly watch a lone couple two-stepping as they wait for their menus. There’s country music playing – at a reasonable volume at least – but Will’s pretty sure he can hear Nico’s thoughts as clearly as if he’s spoken them aloud – it’s not even real country music, Will. Pop-country is a travesty. It’s an insult to the history of the genre.

Will smiles to himself. He glances to his partner. There’s a muscle jumping in Nico’s jaw that Will’s pretty sure has nothing to do with exsanguinated sheep. Maybe telepathy does exist after all.

Nico turns, catches his eye. “What?” he asks, pained.

Will shakes his head, still smiling. “Nothing. It’s just good to be back at work.”

Nico huffs, but his lips twitch into a smile, too. The dance floor lights play over his pale face and the errant wave of hair falling over his forehead. “Yeah?” he says. “You were missing this sort of ambiance?” Nico gestures around them.

“Yeah,” Will grins. “You wanna dance?”

Nico’s eyes go wide, his expression caught adorably somewhere between horrified and embarrassed. “To this? Not in your wildest dreams,” he mutters as the waitress approaches with their menus.

Back at the motel, Will showers, trying to talk himself out of the awkwardness he feels as he emerges from the bathroom in sweats and an old Stanford t-shirt. He’s perfectly presentable, nothing he wouldn’t leave the house in on a weekend. Nico’s sitting on his bed similarly dressed, and they exchange a somewhat shy glance as Will settles himself down.

Nico’s looking inconveniently soft in gray flannel pants and bare feet, a worn Ramones t-shirt snug against his torso, the curve of his biceps. Will’s stomach lurches and he quickly directs his gaze to the TV. Way to be completely inappropriate, Solace.

Nico’s already flipping through the limited cable options and, at Will’s urging, settles on an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Nico hasn’t seen it before, but the show is a comfort watch for Will; he feels himself relax into the familiar characters and dialogue.

They’re both quiet until the commercial break, and then Will shifts, stretching out stiff muscles and pulling the thin hotel blanket over his lap. “Marina Sirtis?” he says, gesturing to the screen, “the lady with the long, dark hair? She was my first crush. I had a poster of her on my wall when I was ten.”

Nico laughs, a bit louder than usual after two beers. He’s fully stretched out on the bed now, head propped up on both pillows against the headboard. Will watches the other man, feeling a little louder himself. Warm. Nico’s shirt has ridden up just a little, a hint of pale skin at his waist, and Will drags his gaze away slower than he should.

“Mine was Judd Nelson,” Nico says after a rather loaded pause. He’s chewing on his thumbnail, gaze fixed on the TV. “First crush, that is. I saw Breakfast Club with my sister when it came out.”

Will feels his heart pick up speed, nerves and anticipation.

“Yeah, he was cute,” Will says, light as he can. He reaches for his own beer, takes a sip. “I – I kind of had a thing for Emilio Estevez. After I saw Breakfast Club.”

Nico glances over, his gaze lingering. “Yeah? You were into jocks?”

Will can feel his face warming. “He had nice arms. I appreciate a good bicep.” He flexes his in demonstration.

Nico huffs out a laugh, his gaze flicking to Will’s arms, then back to the TV. His posture relaxes a bit, Will thinks.

Will falls asleep to the sound of the TV in the background, waking some hours later to the rhythm of Nico’s soft breathing across the room. Will drifts off to sleep again almost immediately, sleeping better than he has in days.

“Got the tox screen back,” Will announces as he steps back into their motel room the next afternoon. There isn’t enough room for them to work at the police station, so they’ve set up shop in here, Nico’s papers spread over the rickety little table next to the window.

Nico turns in his chair. “Anything good?”

“Chloral hydrate.” Will hands the printout to Nico, then kicks off his shoes, dropping onto the bed. “More commonly known as knockout drops. They were found in abundance in the victim’s body. I’m willing to bet we’d find the same in the cows and sheep. And the first human victim, if anyone had thought to check. Your vampire must have drugged them before he drained their blood.”

“Huh.” There’s silence in the little room as Nico scans over the rest of the results. “What kind of vampire would do that?”

“Probably someone who’s watched too many Bela Lugosi movies,” Will offers. “They believe they’re a vampire – or they want to – therefore they act like one. So maybe not so spooky after all.”

Nico’s brow furrows. “What about the bite marks, though?”

“Well, someone so obsessed might file down their incisors to look the part. A moulage casting might help us identify the perpetrator. I wonder if there’s a dentist in town,” Will muses.

Nico looks disappointed. Will swings out a leg to kick him gently in the shin. It’s not a far reach, in the small room. “Sorry. I know you were hoping for something more supernatural.”

Nico attempts to kick Will back, not quite managing to reach. “I see what you’re saying. But I’m not fully convinced.”

“Okay,” Will says easily, “do tell.”

Nico grabs for a gray folder and flips through it. “Your autopsy report said the victim’s shoelaces were untied.”

Will settles himself more fully on the bed, rolling to his side and propping his head up. “Yeah. So?”

“Remember I said that we don’t know what sort of vampire we’re looking for?”

Will blinks. He has no doubt that Nico mentioned this fact, but he has zero memory of it. Quite possibly because he’d fallen asleep. “Yeah?” he says anyway.

“Well, oddly enough, there seems to be one obscure fact that remains the same, over all the vampire stories told across various cultures. Vampires are notoriously obsessive-compulsive. If you toss a handful of seeds at a vampire, no matter what he’s doing, he has to stop and pick them up.”

Will frowns, now completely lost. “Seeds?”

“Historically, certain seeds were thought to fascinate vampires,” Nico continues, now at the point in his storytelling where his hand gestures get bigger and he leans forward in his seat, his gaze intense.

Will can’t help but smile. “I was going to run to the grocery store for snacks. You want me to pick up some bird seed?”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Nico nods, looking serious. “Can’t be too careful. Historically, oats and millet were most interesting to them. Get those if you can.”

Will nods, absently wondering where one would find millet.

“Anyway,” Nico continues, jabbing a pen in Will’s direction. “If a vampire sees a knotted rope, they’ve got to untie it. It’s in their nature. I’m guessing that’s the reason for the untied shoelaces.”

“Maybe our wannabe vampire is just as familiar with the stories and myths as you are,” Will points out. “Or maybe our victim hadn’t gotten around to tying his shoes before he was attacked.”

“Both valid points,” Nico nods, tapping his pen absently against the desk. “You know, I think I wanna go back to the cemetery.”

Will shrugs. “Sure. Right now?”

Nico shakes his head. “No. We should wait until nightfall. I just have this feeling the killer is going to be drawn back there at some point. That it’ll hold some kind of fascination for him.” He quirks an eyebrow. “You up for a spooky cemetery stakeout?”

Will laughs. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Eleven pm finds both men seated in their fleet car at the edge of the cemetery in a copse of trees. It’s fully dark – the site is about a mile from the small town, untouched by any artificial light. The car is turned off, windows half-rolled down to let in the cooler air.

“So remind me what we’re looking for?” Will asks, quiet. He taps the gun at his belt. He’s not planning on needing it, but it’s good to know it’s there.

Nico gazes out over the dark expanse in front of them. The half-moon provides a little light, shading the crests of the trees in silver.

“Anything unusual,” Nico murmurs. “Broken or shifted tombstones. A faint groaning sound coming from under the earth.”

Will suppresses a shiver.

“The sound of manducation,” Nico continues. “The creature eating its own death shroud.”

Will makes a face, withdrawing his hand from the Bugles in his lap and tossing the bag into the back seat. “Suddenly I’m not feeling so much like snacking.”

Nico snorts. They sit in silence for another long while until Nico speaks up again. “I think I want to go out there, take a look around.”

Will sighs. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “Well, you’re not leaving me here by myself.”

“Why, feeling spooked?” Nico asks, light.

“Maybe a little,” Will admits. “Plus, someone’s got to have your back. The AD won’t be impressed if you get exsanguinated on my watch.”

Will’s never had a problem with cemeteries. Death is simply a part of life. But he also hasn’t spent a lot of time skulking around cemeteries in the dead of night, and this one is undeniably creepy. He can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching them as they lurk behind trees, skirt quietly around tombstones.

Nico’s quiet and alert, just a step ahead. Will quashes the impulse to reach out and take a hold of the other man’s jacket, to make absolutely sure they don’t get separated. He’s seized by the ridiculous thought that if Nico gets more than a few yards ahead, he’ll sink right into the shadows, never to be seen again. Idly, Will wonders why he ever thought he’d be a good FBI agent.

Then Nico comes to such an abrupt stop that Will stumbles into him. Nico grabs hold of his arm, his grip almost bruising, gaze never wavering from where he’s staring straight ahead at the empty space between the end of the cemetery and a small grove of spindly trees.

“You see that?” Nico whispers, barely a breath.

“Where?” Will’s hand fumbles to his gun.

Nico moves a step closer, the side of his body pressed to Will’s, tense and warm. Will can’t tell if the embarrassingly immediate increase in his heart rate is due to their sudden proximity or the possibility of imminent threat to his life. He quickly decides now is not the time to worry about that.

Will blinks, trying to force his eyes to see the shapes and borders of objects ahead, everything blurred and obscured in the darkness.

Then, there’s movement in the trees. Someone emerges, walking quickly in the direction of the road. Will can just make out the general shape of a male body, curly hair, rather round in the middle. Beside him, Nico pulls his gun from its holster.

“FBI, stop where you are,” Nico commands, stepping forward.

The man turns to face them. As their eyes meet, there’s sudden a flash of what looks like green light – and the man is gone, disappeared in a second.

“Stop right there!” Nico pelts into the darkness. Will takes off after him, trying not to trip on the uneven ground, his gaze darting left and right to see where the man could possibly have disappeared to.

They reach the stand of trees, but there’s nothing. Darkness and silence except for their ragged breathing. Nico’s gaze scans the country road next to the cemetery, catching his breath. Nothing but farmers’ fields and open road.

“Fuck. Where the fuck did he go?”

Will shakes his head, panting. “No idea. I know it’s dark, but it just seemed like he…” he trails off.

“Disappeared?”

They begin a more thorough search then, a close inspection of the area where they saw the man, then a careful grid search through the little cemetery. Will keeps an eye on his partner, Nico’s flashlight beam tracking back and forth just a few yards from Will’s. It’s odd, though – the cemetery doesn’t feel nearly as spooky now. Almost as if Will knows in his heart that there’s no longer any threat. And that feels eerie in itself.

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything,” Nico sighs, shoving a hand through his hair as they reach the fence at the far end of the cemetery.

“Could have been nothing,” Will considers as they walk back towards the car. “Just someone out for a walk?” It feels like a stab in the dark.

Nico shoots him a sideways glance, skeptical.

Will shrugs. “Yeah, I know.”

They spend another hour sitting in the car at the cemetery’s edge before heading back to the motel, Nico teasingly complaining that Will’s yawning is going to disturb the undead.

Will wakes the next morning to heavy cloud crowding the sky outside and a tangible humidity that’s seeped right into the room with him, sweat on the back of his neck.

Nico’s bed is empty, the blankets pulled up neatly. A glance towards the dark bathroom tells Will he’s alone in the room.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, dropping his elbows to his knees and his head into his hands. He feels blurry, his head fogged. He’s close to dozing again, fingers pressed into his forehead, when the door opens.

Will sits up, blinking. Blessedly, it’s Nico, with muffins and coffee, a careful balancing act with two styrofoam cups tucked under his chin, a banana under his arm. His brow creases when his gaze catches on Will.

“What?” Will croaks.

Nico turns away, nudging papers aside with his elbow and settling the food on the table by the window. “Did you sleep?” he asks Will.

Will sighs, deep. “I think so. Some.” He dreamed of his dad last night, nothing significant, just glimpses of the older man in the periphery. He woke afterwards feeling heavy, aching. It had been a while before he was able to sleep again.

Nico eyes him for a moment, then comes to sit on the other bed. “I don’t think you want to hear this, but I just need to say it once to make sure.”

Will looks up, stomach lurching.

“You don’t have to be here,” Nico says, just a little too intense. “If you decide you want to go back home at any time, it’s fine. No one will think any less of you. And I can handle things on my own. Or if you just wanna hang out in the hotel, that’s cool too. Just tell me.”

Ridiculously, Will feels his eyes burn with tears. He focuses on accepting the coffee Nico passes into his hand. “I’m good,” he says. “But thanks. I promise I’ll tell you if anything changes.”

Nico nods, silent.

Will shifts, too aware of his sleep-rumpled clothes, a stark contrast to Nico’s neat polo shirt and leather jacket. God, his leather jacket. Will runs a hand over his head, a fruitless attempt to tame what’s surely an appalling bedhead. “I made it through my whole residency on less sleep than this,” Will says.

Nico watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I know you’ll bow out if you think you’re a danger to me, or to yourself,” he says. “I just want to make sure that you know you don’t need to get to that point before you tap out.”

Will nods, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

The day passes, quiet and uneventful. The nearest dentist is an hour away through back roads and farmland, and they make their way that way after lunch, hoping to gain some insight on anyone with abnormal dentition in the area. The trip yields no additional information, but the drive is pleasant enough, the sky thick and dark with clouds, no rain falling yet.

They talk idly about the case and Will makes a concerted effort to stay awake, now hyper-aware of Nico’s concern for his state of mind.

He glances to his partner, who’s looking particularly breezy and cool in his short-sleeved polo, his leather jacket an unfortunate casualty of the humidity. Nico’s right hand rests on the gear shift, left arm extended, a relaxed grip on the wheel. Nico’s slim, his features almost delicate, but he has muscle in his arms that isn’t immediately obvious in the looser dress shirts he wears to work most days. Will finds his attention drifting repeatedly to Nico’s arms every time they’re available to his gaze. The bulge of his bicep as it flexes, the defined lines of his forearms. He forces his gaze away for the third time in as many minutes.

Even a few weeks ago, Will realizes, he would have made a joke, teased Nico about working out. They’ve developed a sort of light, comfortable teasing over the last five months, even flirting, low stakes. But something feels as if it’s shifting lately, and Will finds he can’t get the words out. It doesn’t help that he’s thought of Nico’s arms far too often over the last three days. Will searches for another topic of conversation, anything.

“Hey,” Will says, wrenching his gaze determinedly to Nico’s face. “You’ve never told me where you grew up.”

“Um.” Nico clears his throat and Will’s surprised to see the other man looking uncomfortable. He knows Nico well enough now to recognize the way he retreats at the threat of personal questions, but really. They’ve known each other for months now. It’s not as if Will’s asked if he can borrow Nico’s Social Security number.

“Just – Massachusetts,” Nico says, eyes on the road.

“Nice,” Will nods. “Whereabouts? One of my aunts lives up there.”

There’s a pause. “Martha’s Vineyard,” Nico mumbles.

Will laughs in surprise. “Oh, you’re a rich kid!”

Nico snorts, clearly embarrassed. “My dad’s the rich one. I was just… a little weirdo.”

Will watches the other man out of the corner of his eye, intrigued. “Do you see your dad much?”

“No,” Nico says, in a way that indicates that his participation on this topic is clearly over. Will blinks, startled at his tone.

Then, a moment later – “sorry,” Nico says, softer. “I didn’t mean to snap. My dad and I… well. There’s no love lost there. He’s – we never–”

“I’m sorry,” Will cuts in. “I wasn’t trying to pry.”

Nico nods, falling silent. “I know you weren’t,” he says a moment later. “And I –” he reaches over, his fingers brushing over Will’s wrist, there and gone. “I know you just lost your dad. And that sucks. I can’t help thinking… well, I can’t help but think that I wouldn’t miss mine if – you know.”

Will nods, his gaze on the farmland passing outside the window. “My dad and I – we weren’t exactly close.”

Nico doesn’t respond with more than a flicker of his gaze, but there’s a tilt to his posture that tells Will he’s listening.

Will sighs. “We hadn’t talked much for the last few years. Things hadn’t been… well. Things weren’t easy between us, maybe not ever, but especially since my two older brothers died. He kind of checked out after that. I always thought we’d find a way to be close, someday, maybe as I got older. I guess that’s off the table now.” Will swallows, wipes at his eyes. “Sorry.”

Nico shakes his head. “No need to apologize,” he says, soft.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe I’m mourning the loss of what I wanted us to have. You know, more than the loss of what there actually was.” Will digs in the pocket of the passenger door for a fast food napkin he knows he stuffed there earlier this week. Finding one, he dabs at his cheeks.

“What was your dad like?” Nico asks.

Will lets out a breath, leaning back in his seat. “He was… larger than life. Maybe just because I was a kid, I don’t know. But I have these memories of him – loud, exuberant. Charming. He got along with everyone he met. I wanted to be just like him. He was a doctor, too. That’s why I went into medical school.”

The landscape flashes by outside, greens and browns and yellows, then shades of smoky gray above the horizon. Nico stays quiet, waiting.

“He was good at everything,” Will continues. “Or at least that’s how I remember it. And Michael and Lee – my older brothers – they were the same. The three of them played baseball and football together, they were… you know.” Will shrugs. “Tough. Loud. Boys’ boys. Even as a little kid, I felt like I was too soft. Too different. And not just because I was younger. I felt like they knew it too.”

Will can’t remember thee last time he talked this much. The words seem to keep pouring out, though. And somehow it doesn’t feel so bad to just… let it happen. Here, cradled in this small space on this country road under these dark clouds and with this man – his friend, he realizes rather suddenly – this feels safe.

“And then when I was ten, my dad and my older brothers were in a car accident. Lee and Michael were dead before the ambulance got there.” Will pauses for a few deep breaths, his vision blurring with tears. “My dad was driving.”

“I’m sorry,” Nico says quietly.

“My dad left not too long after that,” Will says. “He’s been overseas ever since. Or he had been. Doctors Without Borders. From what I hear, he was a really good doctor. He wasn’t such a great dad, unfortunately. He never really said he was leaving my mom, or leaving us…” Will shrugs. “But that’s what happened. He called less and less. The last time I talked to him was in September, when they transferred me out of Quantico. We talked for maybe two minutes and then he was rushing off.” Will sniffs, dabbing at his cheeks again. “Sorry. You’re probably wishing you’d left me back in DC when you had the chance.”

Nico shakes his head slowly. “If I was going to leave you anywhere, it would have been in Fayetteville, after you fell asleep in the middle of my best vampire lore.”

Will chokes out a laugh, surprised, and Nico shoots him a smile.

“Dad and I talked a few times when the FBI first recruited me,” Will adds, remembering. Now that he’s started talking, somehow it feels easier just to keep going, like running downhill. “I was so keen on med school at the beginning – everything was new and exciting, I couldn’t wait to learn more. Then halfway through my residency it just stopped feeling right. I felt like I was dragging myself out of bed every day. And I remember thinking – god, how am I going to keep doing this for another forty years? So when the FBI came calling, I jumped at the chance to try something else.”

“What did your dad think?” Nico asks.

“It was hard to tell,” Will sighs. “I think I read into him too much. I don’t know if he really understood. I wanted so badly for him to be proud of me, but I’m still not sure if he was. I guess now I won’t ever know for sure.” Will falls silent, his throat tight.

“Anyway.” Will clears his throat. “That’s my childhood trauma. How were your formative years?”

Nico shifts a bit in his seat, takes a breath and lets it out, like he’s working his way up to something. “My mom died when I was seven,” he says.

“Oh, Nico –” Will begins.

“It’s okay.” Nico’s voice is wobbly. “Bianca – my sister – I think I’ve mentioned her. She was five years older than me. She looked after me a lot, after that. We were really close. And then she died when I was seventeen. The end.”

Something aches in Will’s chest. “That’s a very… brief summary,” he says gently. “Succinct.”

Nico laughs, short. “That’s more than most people get.” He glances at Will, quick, a half-smile. He sniffs, turning back to the road.

“Then I’m honored,” Will says, offering Nico a McDonalds napkin, stiff and scratchy.

Nico accepts it, wiping at his face. “You should be.”

There’s silence for a few moments. Nico sniffs a few more times.

“You have another sister too, right?” Will asks.

“Yeah. Half-sister, technically. Hazel. We didn’t actually… know about each other until after Bianca died. My dad had an affair. Apparently.” Nico grimaces. “But Hazel’s amazing. We’re really close. Learning my dad was even more of a dick than I thought – that sucked. But Hazel made up for it.”

They’re quiet for a few miles after that, just the hum of the engine and the crack and pop of gravel under their tires. Will feels drained, wrung out. But somehow he's also more relaxed than he's been in days, boneless in his seat, his gaze fuzzy around the edges as hills and fields blur past. He wonders if Nico's feeling the same. There's a softness to his posture, to the line of his mouth and the drape of delicate fingers over the gearshift.

As they near St. Ambrose, the conversation picks up again bit by bit; plans for the remainder of the day, a query from the AD as to how much longer the investigation is going to take, Nico wondering aloud if it's worth staking out the cemetery again. Nico pulls smoothly into the motel lot, parking the car in front of their door and pulling the key from the ignition.

"Hey," says Will, pausing as he unbuckles his seatbelt. "Thanks for listening."

Nico gazes at him for a moment, something unreadable there. "Any time." He looks away, reaching for his own seatbelt. "What are FBI partners for?"

Will breathes out a laugh. "What indeed."

Several hours later, Will's putting the finishing touches on his report of their interview with the dentist when Nico's phone rings. Will's just about to reach for it when Nico emerges from the bathroom, scrubbing a towel through damp hair. He darts past, leaving a fresh scent of soap and shampoo in his wake.

"Di Angelo," he says into the phone. Will's only half-listening, mulling over word choices and paragraph spacing. It only takes a minute before Nico ends the call, flopping down on his bed.

Nico’s voice comes out frustrated. "Another dead tourist."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Fuck."

"Puncture wounds?”

"Yeah. Seems to be missing all his blood."

Will clicks his laptop closed and pushes back from the table. "Where's the body?"

"At the morgue,” Nico shoots him a knowing look. “It's almost nine. You can do the autopsy tomorrow, Solace. Besides, the pizza will be here soon."

Will stands, stretching. “I think I’d rather get it done now. Might give us some direction as to where to investigate tomorrow.”

Nico gives him a considering look. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Will glances around, finally locating his jacket draped over his overnight bag in the corner. “Save me some pizza.”

It’s a quick walk back to the morgue and Will’s quickly immersed in the examination. The man looks to be about the same age as the last dead tourist, same puncture wounds on the same side of his neck. Will makes a y-incision and begins his inspection of the chest cavity, assessing and measuring the internal organs and dictating his results. The police station is nearly empty at this hour, and Will wishes he’d brought some music along. He’s just thinking of doffing his gloves and looking around for a radio as he reaches for a scalpel to open the stomach cavity.

“Stomach contents include…” Will peers closer. “Mushrooms, sausage…” Weird, same as the last two victims. It looks like…. pizza. Will pauses, scalpel hovering in the air.

Fuck. The pizza.

Nico reaches for the TV remote, pizza boxes stacked on the bed next to him. To his surprise, he’s been enjoying sharing a room with Will. But he also can’t deny that it’s kind of nice to have an evening to himself; no worries about what anyone else might want to watch on TV, no Will with his distractingly brilliant smiles and appealingly broad shoulders. Nico gives his head a sharp shake, determinedly moving his focus to the TV. It’s Sunday night. He’s pretty sure he can find an episode of M*A*S*H.

There are commercial breaks on every channel, so Nico turns his attention to the pizza instead, extracting a warm, cheesy slice from the box on top and sliding it onto a styrofoam plate. Generous portions, he notes, the end of the piece overhanging the edge of the plate. He bites it off.

Nico’s halfway through his pizza and ten minutes into M*A*S*H when he gets up to grab something to drink. He sets his plate aside, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

Whoa.

Nico sometimes gets light-headed when he stands up too fast, but this feels… extreme. He grips the edge of the bed, waiting for the wave of dizziness to subside. It doesn’t.

Maybe he just needs some water. He tries and fails to remember the last time he had anything to drink. Okay, sure. He’s a little dehydrated. That makes sense.

He makes an attempt to stand and immediately finds himself flat on his back on the floor. Ow. Fuck. Okay, this is definitely not normal. Maybe if he can just reach his phone… but his arms won’t move. What the fuck. This almost feels like the reaction he had to the drugs when he had his wisdom teeth pulled.

Wait. Drugs.

Fuck.

The motel room door opens and Nico prays to any gods that might exist that it’s Will. It’s only been about half an hour though, and the autopsy earlier this week took Will over two hours. Fuck. Fuck. On some level, Nico registers that this is a very weird feeling, panicking and feeling so… floaty and content at the same time.

A face looms over him that is not Will’s. It’s a stout young man, curly hair – tighter curls than Will’s, darker hair – the man they saw running through the cemetery, Nico realizes with a chill. The man looks Nico over, appraising, as if Nico is a particularly appealing steak dinner. He sinks to the floor, smiling weirdly. As Nico gazes at him, paralyzed, the man’s eyes begin to glow with a greenish light.

Nico’s heart is running marathons in his chest. He puts every ounce of thought he has into willing his hand to reach for his gun, but there’s nothing, nothing. Fuck.

Everything’s getting so fuzzy.

The door flies open, slamming into the wall.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is panicked, as panicked as Nico felt a moment ago. He can’t quite find it in himself to panic right now.

The man with the glowing eyes is standing now, but he’s gone blurrier. Then there’s a gunshot, and another.

There’s a cool breeze coming from the open door. That’s nice. Nico lets his eyes fall shut, no real choice in the matter. But then there are hands, warm hands, on his face and at his neck, and he blinks heavy eyes open to see Will, wide blue eyes standing out in a pale face.

That’s nice. He likes Will. Will feels safe. Will probably won’t drink his blood. And Nico thinks he might let him if Will wanted to. He thinks Will’s talking to him. He sounds worried. But Nico’s just so tired.

When Nico comes to again, there are voices, several of them. He keeps his eyes shut, listening. He’s not actually sure if he can open his eyes. Oh, but there’s Will’s voice. It cuts through the others, calm and sure. If the sound of Will’s voice is anything to go by, Nico doesn’t have to open his eyes just yet. It sounds as if Will’s got things under control.

Time passes, or maybe it doesn’t, but Will’s voice seems closer, suddenly. There’s a warm hand on Nico’s shoulder.

“Nico. Hey, sleepyhead.”

Nico’s eyelids aren’t quite as heavy now. He opens his eyes to Will leaning over him, his gaze tired, but fond. Nico finds that he can move his arms again and reaches out to grasp Will’s arm. He sighs, content. Behind him, Nico sees two double doors open to the night, medical gear all around.

“How’re you feeling?” Will asks. “Do you remember what happened?”

Oh. Right. Nico’s not usually here in… the back of an ambulance? How did that happen? His brain feels as if it’s booting up sluggishly, skipping merrily over details that are probably important.

“Fuck,” Nico croaks. Then his eyes go wide. “The pizza. It was drugged.”

Will nods. “It sure was.”

“And the delivery guy –” Nico says, trying to sit up. Will helps him with an arm firm around his back. Nico’s head doesn’t spin the way it did last time he sat up. That’s probably a good thing. Will’s the doctor, though. He should ask Will. Wait.

“The delivery guy,” Nico says again.

Will nods, a smile pulling at his lips as he watches Nico struggle to process. “Yes, the delivery guy. He lunged at me when I came back into the room, I shot at him. I thought I hit him, actually, but then he took off. Pretty fast for a guy who’d just been shot.” Will’s talking a little slower than he normally does, which honestly feels a little patronizing. But Nico doesn’t actually want him to stop, because it still feels like the words are coming at him too fast.

Nico rubs at his eyes, clumsy. “Did – did you go after him?”

“Well, no, because I needed to make sure you were okay.”

Nico beams and sways. Will laughs, tightening the arm around him. Nico likes making Will laugh. Will is warm. And he smells good. Nico nestles his head into Will’s shoulder. It’s right there after all. And Will has really nice shoulders.

Will laughs again, a shake of his body against Nico’s. “You’re adorable,” Will says.

Nico thinks Will’s probably right. He feels a little bit adorable right now.

“Do you think you can walk?” Will asks. “The EMTs want to take you to the hospital, but they’ll let me monitor you in the motel as long as you can move under your own steam.”

Nico nods. “I can definitely walk. Don’t wanna go to the hospital.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Will agrees, helping Nico to stand.

Will has a quick exchange with the EMTs while Nico maintains a firm grip on Will’s arm, trying his best to look like someone who Does Not Need To Go To The Hospital. It must work, because a moment later, they’re making their slow way across the motel parking lot. Nico stumbles a few yards from the building and Will’s grip on him tightens.

“Try to stay upright for a few more minutes or they’ll make you get back in the ambulance,” Will mutters, low.

Nico thinks he giggles, and Will snorts. Will’s quick to unlock the door and usher Nico inside. He flicks on the light.

“This… isn’t our room,” Nico says slowly. He’s pretty sure of that, anyway. The furniture seems to be in different spots. And there’s a single, king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

Will lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping as he glances over the room. “Fuck. No, they moved us. The other room is a crime scene now. Local PD is processing it and we can’t go back in there. I uh… I didn’t realize there was only one bed, though. I can – I’ll go to the main office and –”

“No, no,” Nico argues immediately. “It’s fine, Solace. I just wanna go to bed and – it’s fine. There’s plenty of room for both of us. ‘S a big bed.”

Will holds his gaze for a moment and Nico does his best to look as certain as he can. It’s a little hard to focus on Will’s face, but he thinks he manages it.

“Are you sure?” Will asks. “That’s not just the chloral hydrate talking? Because I really don’t mind moving us.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” Nico says. He wonders if he should say it one more time. He carefully closes his mouth instead.

Will shrugs. He really does look tired. “Okay.”

Nico manages the few steps over to the bed without any assistance. He’s honestly pretty proud of himself. He sits down heavily. After a few unsuccessful attempts to kick off his shoes, Will suddenly appears, kneeling in front of him and taking over.

Will looks like he’s trying not to laugh, but Nico decides not to take it personally. Nico flops back onto the bed, legs still hanging off the side.

“Are you ready to sleep?” Will asks.

“Mm hm,” Nico responds, closing his eyes. “‘M a bit hungry, though. Is there any pizza left?”

There’s silence, and after a moment he opens his eyes to Will, looking pained.

“Kidding. I was kidding,” Nico says. “Haha.”

Will huffs. “It’s not funny yet,” he says. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Nico mumbles, trying to shift himself fully onto the bed. After a moment Will appears to help. Wow. He’s really strong.

Will snorts.

Huh. Did Nico just say that out loud?

“I am going to tease you about this so much tomorrow,” Will mutters.

“Mean,” Nico mumbles, turning his face into the pillow.

Nico wakes to find himself alone in bed, sunlight seeping in around the blackout curtains and a throbbing behind his eyes. He lifts his head, squinting against the light.

“Hey.” The bed dips and Will’s there. “Good morning.”

Nico groans, dropping his head back to the bed.

“Headache?” Will asks. Nico nods.

“I’m just going to check your vitals again, okay?” Nico feels Will’s fingers close around his wrist, then a warm hand on his forehead.

“Wait,” Nico croaks. “Again?”

“Yeah. I had to wake you a couple of times during the night to check on you. You don’t remember?” A smile pulls at Will’s lips.

Nico feels mildly terrified. “No, I - don’t. I don’t remember,” he says, slowly pushing himself to sit.

“That’s okay, that’s normal. You were very… sweet about it,” Will grins.

Nico covers his face with his hands. “Oh god.”

Will laughs. “I’m going to go grab you some aspirin.” He disappears into the bathroom and Nico wracks his brain, trying to piece together, well… anything.

By the time Will returns, Nico is brimming with questions.

“So, the delivery guy –”

Will shakes his head. “They haven’t found him yet. Here.” He presses the glass of water into Nico’s hand and Nico takes a sip. His mouth feels disgusting.

“Were his eyes,” Nico says, trying to make sense of his memories of the night before. “Were they… glowing?”

Will rubs the back of his neck. “You saw that too? I thought I must have imagined it. It all happened so fast. Maybe colored contacts?”

“Maybe,” Nico says doubtfully, staring into the middle distance. His brain is slowly fitting the pieces of last night into place and as it does, he begins to feel some of the terror that felt so distant under the dulling of the drugs. He’d been on the floor, helpless. Awake, but paralyzed. The curly-haired man loomed over him, hunger in his eyes.

“Fuck,” Nico suppresses a shudder. “That was close.”

“Yeah,” Will says softly. He opens the aspirin bottle and presses two into Nico’s palm when he holds out his hand. “I’m awfully glad I got there in time.”

“Me too.” Nico swallows the aspirin and drains the glass of water. Will gets up to refill it. Nico can feel the fog in his head slowly clearing. His eyes are itchy, his brain fuzzy.

Will crosses to the window and twitches the curtains just a smidge wider. Nico is vaguely grateful not to have his tired eyes immediately blasted by sunlight. Will walks back to the bed, all long and lean, sleeves cuffed below his elbows, the thin beam of sunlight catching in his curls.

Will sets the glass of water on the nightstand. “Hold on, one more thing,” he says. He leans around Nico, grabbing something from his bag, then straightens. Warm fingers come up to gently cup Nico’s chin. Nico’s stomach nearly leaps up through his throat, then settles somewhere around his lungs as Will clicks on a penlight.

“Bright light,” Will murmurs in warning, his face close. “Look straight ahead?”

Nico does, realization slowly trickling in as he cooperates. Will is quick and efficient, checking one eye, then the other. He smiles, a gentle pat to Nico’s cheek as he clicks off the light. “All good.”

“How did you know?” Nico asks, trying to distract himself from his suddenly racing heart. He’s exceedingly grateful Will’s already checked his pulse. Will passes him the refilled glass of water.

“That you were in immediate danger of exsanguination?” Will asks, wry. “Well, I was in the middle of the autopsy when I noticed that yesterday’s victim’s stomach contents were the same as the first two.”

“Pizza,” Nico realizes.

“Yup.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast in my life,” Will says. He breathes out a laugh, his jaw tight.

“Thanks for that,” Nico says, stupidly grateful.

Will gives him a small smile. “What are FBI partners for?”

An hour later, showered and changed, Nico’s feeling much more like himself. The door opens and Will enters, dropping himself onto the chair across from Nico.

“So? What did you find out?” Nico asks immediately.

Will sighs. “Well, the alleged pizza poisoner is nowhere to be found. His name’s Ronnie Strickland. Police found traces of chloral hydrate in his locker at the pizza place and at his home, but all his stuff is gone. He’d been renting a house in town, but it’s completely cleared out. His landlord lives in the place across the street – says he was home all night but never saw Ronnie coming or going.”

Nico lets out a breath. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Will grimaces. “They put out an APB for Ronnie and his car, but that’s about it. The case is in the local PD’s hands now.”

With that, the two pack up the car and gas up. Nico gets back into the driver’s seat at the gas station and pauses, gazing out at the dusty road.

Will, who’d been flipping through CDs, pauses. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Um. Would you mind driving?” Nico asks, hesitant. He always drives. He’s a bit of a control freak that way, he’s well aware. He’s pretty sure Will knows this too.

A smile breaks over Will’s face like a fucking sunrise. “Really? You’re going to trust me to drive? Are you feeling okay?” Will leans over with his sunrise smile to press a warm hand to Nico’s forehead and Nico jerks out of his reach.

Nico can feel his face flooding with warmth and he scowls. “Whatever, never mind, it’s fine.” He turns the key in the ignition.

Will laughs, loud and bright. “Nico, I’m kidding. Come on, let me drive. You’re probably still feeling a little dopey after your drug trip last night.”

Will’s out of the car and around to the driver’s side before Nico’s fully unbuckled. Nico opens the driver’s door and squeezes past the taller man.

Will snorts. “You don’t have to look so grouchy about it. I promise I know how to drive.”

“Stick?” Nico says, pained.

“Yes, stick.” Will rolls his eyes. They settle into their seats. “Now buckle up,” Will grins. “I wanna see what this Neon can do on the open road.”

“Oh god,” Nico mutters. He brings the passenger seat forward a couple of inches before reaching for his seatbelt. Stupid Will with his stupidly long legs.

Will’s a perfectly adequate driver, as it turns out, though he keeps glancing over at Nico with a teasing smile tugging at his lips. Finally he pats Nico’s hand where it’s clutching the seat. “Relax,” he laughs. “If I wanted to kill you I could have let the vampire do it last night.”

Nico snorts, pulling his hand away. It tingles, where Will touched it with his stupid warm fingers. Probably just the lingering effects of last night’s doped pizza. Or Hazel, putting dumb ideas in his head.

Will looks entirely relaxed at the wheel, though the car’s a bit small for his tall frame. He glances over and tosses Nico a brilliant smile. Nico rolls his eyes.

In sudden need of a distraction, Nico grabs his wallet of CDs off the dash.

“Oh, I have music, actually!” Will exclaims.

“Great,” Nico says, deadpan. “I didn’t get my quota of Disney tunes on our last road trip.”

“Come on, you know you loved The Little Mermaid,” Will teases.

Okay, maybe Nico liked that one. A little. That secret’s between him and the amazing acoustics in the basement hallway. “Fine, let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, trying for harassed.

“Blue bag in the back,” Will directs. “In the side pocket.”

A moment later Nico’s flipping through CDs, and okay, it’s not all bad. Disney and boy bands, as expected, but there are some more folky, indie-type selections as well. Mostly nothing Nico would really choose for his own listening. But good music, objectively speaking.

“You’ve got some decent stuff in here, Solace,” he says grudgingly.

“Wow, thanks. Do I get the di Angelo musical seal of approval?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Nico mutters. He pauses on one CD in particular. “Huh. Naomi Solace. Any relation?”

Will glances over. “Yeah, I forgot that was in there. That’s my mom.”

“Seriously? Your mom?”

Will smiles. “Seriously. You can’t see the resemblance?”

And Nico can, actually, studying the picture of the blonde woman printed on the CD. The photo is grainy, but he realizes he recognizes those bright eyes, that teasing smile.

“She’s prettier than you,” Nico says, “but yeah, I can see it.”

Will laughs.

“And I guess you can carry a tune.”

“Oh, high praise,” Will teases.

Nico bites down a smile, sliding the CD into the player. There’s warm acoustic guitar, then a mellow alto voice followed by light, tinkling mandolin. A song about love, and loss. Nico breathes.

Two tracks in and neither of them has spoken, lulled by the quiet, cozy soundtrack and the hum of the road.

Will glances over. “It’s good, right? This is her newest one. I think she gets better with every album. And not just because she’s my mom.”

Nico nods, finding his throat a little too tight for speech.

Will’s gaze flicks over to him again, then back to the road. “You should come with me to see her play. Next time she’s in town,” Will says, softer.

Something flutters to life in Nico’s chest. “Yeah,” he manages. “That would be cool.”

A soft instrumental track shifts to something poppier, light. Nico finds he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open. Surely that’s acceptable, though. He was drugged last night, after all. He clears his throat.

“Um. Would you – do you mind if I take a nap?” He knows there’s really no need to ask, especially considering that Will slept most of the way here. But it still feels weird. Too intimate, somehow.

Will glances over, his gaze soft, and Nico can tell he feels it too. “Of course not,” he says, no teasing this time. “Sleep when you need to sleep.”

Nico’s throat is tight again. It must be some side effect of the drugs making him more emotional than usual. Maybe the near-death experience helped too. He reclines his seat, just a little, closing his eyes against the late morning sunshine. He lets his mind drift over the last five days, the case, his partner. Little parts of himself doled out sparingly, things he almost always keeps buried. He thinks of Will at his side through all of it. Will, heart on his sleeve. Solid, dependable. Soft.

Nico turns his head towards his partner. Will’s mouthing the words to his mother’s song. He looks a bit melancholy maybe, but settled. Steady.

“Hey,” Nico begins, then immediately regrets speaking before he’s plotted out what he needs to say. Will glances over. “I was just thinking about what you said before. About your dad.”

Will smiles, tired. “Which part?”

“Just – for what it’s worth.” Nico swallows, gaze flicking back to the windshield. “He’d be an idiot. Not to be proud of you.” Nico’s voice goes a bit rough and he swallows against the lump in his throat.

There’s no response from the other man for a moment, then, “thank you,” Will murmurs. Warm fingers brush over Nico’s hand where it’s resting in his lap. Nico closes his eyes.

(chapter 5 here)

Notes:

1. Another chapter! A million thanks for the lovely comments on the last one. It makes me so happy that people are enjoying this. Comments keep me going and get me writing faster :) 2. Thanks as always to @rosyredlipstick for the beta! 3. This chapter is loosely based on two episodes of the X-Files - Bad Blood and Beyond the Sea 4. I loved writing this chapter. I hope you like it too. 5. If you read this within the first 12 hours of me posting it, there was only one previous human victim at the beginning of the case - now edited for two! In all my meticulous editing I somehow missed a somewhat important plot point :)

#my writing #x-files au #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #reyna ramirez-arellano #casefic #conservatively rated teen for now #alternate universe - fbi #vampire!#minor character death #age-appropriate alcohol consumption #there was only one room #there was only one BED