Chapter Text
Robert remembered feeling fear.
Fear like he hadn’t felt since his dad’s mech had almost taken him out. Fear like he was going to die. He was only 21. He didn’t want to die. It had been the middle of the night and he’d been walking home from some shithole bar as usual when he had heard it. A woman screaming somewhere in an alleyway. Robert hadn’t even thought twice before he was racing to help her, turning the corner and feeling his body fill with cold fear.
He remembered waking up in the alleyway. He had no clue how long he had been lying there on the wet concrete. Everything had fucking ached as he pulled himself to his feet. Neither the woman or the thing that had killed her were still around. Robert stumbled out of the dark alley way and wandered his way down the street. Everything was so loud. So bright. A car drove past and it felt like Robert’s head was going to fucking explode.
Robert had managed to find his way back to his studio apartment. The sun had just begun to rise when he threw himself down onto his bed, a splitting migraine thumping behind his eyes. Robert didn’t know how long he was laid across the bedsheets but the way the sun spilled across the floor of his apartment when he opened his eyes next gave him a pretty good idea. It was probably around seven in the morning. Where the fuck had all of that time gone?
He felt so fucking hungry. But this felt like a different sort of hunger. Like it was burning low in his throat. Robert decided that it felt more like he was thirsty so he stumbled his way over to the kitchen sink, sticking his head under the tap and taking a mouthful of water.
Immediately his senses were flooded. Rust. Chemicals. Dirt. Wrong.
Robert fell backwards, spitting the water out over himself. What the fuck was happening to him? Sucking in a deep breath and fighting back the tears pricking behind his eyes, Robert went to his balcony. He wanted to feel the sun against his skin. Chase had always joked that he was like a lizard when he was a kid, laying star-fished against the grass in his father’s backyard as he soaked up all the sun that he could. Sometimes Chase would join him, both of their arms outstretched; forearms facing upwards so they didn’t miss a single drop of sunshine.
Robert pushed past the glass door and almost tripped, catching himself on the railing. He squinted against the glare of the sun and breathed in through his nose. There was something nearby that smelled so fucking good. Saliva gathered in Robert’s mouth and for some godforsaken reason, his teeth started to ache. His fingers tightened against the steel railing of his balcony and he tried to steady his breathing. Slowly, he realized he could hear footsteps. Down on the ground floor. Boots against the sidewalk, walking down Robert’s street.
Before he could even blink, Robert had thrown himself over the railing and landed beside the man walking. As the man tried to shriek in fear, Robert’s hand was closing over his mouth to shut him up. Without thinking, Robert sank his teeth into the side of the man’s throat and bit down hard. Warmth flooded his mouth, coppery and tinged with cinnamon. Robert was breathing hard through his nose as he drank, feeling the man underneath him go completely limp. He barely even noticed that he had stopped fighting back.
Eventually the well ran dry and Robert fell to his knees, bringing the unconscious man with him. He knelt on the sidewalk for a moment or two before everything came rushing back to him. He scrambled backwards, pushing the man away from him. Robert could feel his own heart jack-rabbiting inside of his chest as he stared at the man’s limp body laid out on the sidewalk. His eyes landed on the man’s throat, where he should have been able to see his pulse jumping. The man was too still. The blood wasn’t even bubbling out of the wound on his neck anymore.
Not unconscious. Dead.
Robert let out a choked sob and flapped his hands anxiously, his eyes darting around to see if anyone had witnessed him murder this random guy in the early morning. When he saw no one, he managed to get a hold of the body and pick him up. Fear continued to sit icy in his chest as he realized he didn’t struggle to lift the dead weight at all. Robert carried the guy up to his apartment, taking the stairs two at a time and slamming the door closed behind him. He gingerly placed the body down on the floor of the kitchen, propping him up against the counter.
A scared laugh burst out of Robert as he stared down at the dead body.
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Robert sat on the other side of the kitchen floor, staring at the body. He was vaguely aware of the time passing as he watched the random man’s still form. Sunlight stretched across the studio and eventually slid behind the horizon, plunging the place into darkness again. Robert sat with his knees up to his chest, chin resting on his knee as he watched.
“You have to wake up now,” he said. His grip around his own shins tightened. “It’s been hours. I woke up. Now you have to wake up.”
The man didn’t reply. Didn’t stir. Robert let out a loud sigh and let his legs stretch out in front of him. He let his head thump back against the counter and he stared up at the ceiling, trying to think back to the night before. Why was he so special? Why did he get to wake up again? Robert ran over everything he remembered until the heavy fog over his memory seemed to lift little by little. His head jerked towards the man as the missing piece came back to him.
Robert had fought back. Against whatever had attacked that woman. Whatever attacked him. He had fought back and when Robert fought back, he used everything at his disposal. He had bitten back. He remembered the rush of foul tasting blood hitting his tongue and the offended shriek of the man he was fighting. He remembered the unintentional blood exchange. Every single piece of vampire media Robert had ever absorbed came rushing back to him as he stared at the dead man on the floor of his kitchen.
“No, no, no,” he crawled over to the body, lifting his wrist to his own mouth and biting down hard. He let out a whimper of pain as his blood ran down his arm, using his other hand to pry the dead man’s mouth open. He desperately pushed his open wrist against the man’s mouth, a sob wracking his chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Robert sat in front of the man’s body, tears running freely down his cheeks as he waited. Nothing. He was too late. He had fucking killed this man. He was a murderer.
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Disposing of the man’s body had been easier than Robert had thought it would be. He waited until the middle of the night before he wrapped the man’s body up in his bedsheet and carried him down to his car, tucked in the communal garage. Robert found out that he had a brand new stealth advantage in the form of heightened speed and he could hear everything now. Every shuffle of feet against the floor. Every TV playing quietly behind the doors. He knew he wouldn’t get caught. Once he had gotten the man in the trunk of his car, he had driven out past the city edge and kept going until he felt like he wouldn’t be seen. He had spent hours digging a hole out in the middle of nowhere, throwing the man’s body down and pushing the dirt back. For good measure, Robert had dragged some shrubbery over the site.
The drive back had been the most nauseating car ride of Robert’s entire life. He had white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire way, his heart threatening to beat its way out from behind his ribs. Every single cell in his body wanted him to drive to the nearest station and turn himself in. He ignored the overwhelming feeling and drove until he was parked back in his complex’s garage.
Robert felt numb as he made his way back to the apartment. His eyes were glazed over as he packed up his meager possessions into a few boxes and brought them down to his car. He didn’t bother with any of the furniture. He just left a paper note on the kitchen counter for his landlord, apologizing for the sudden departure.
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Finding a new apartment was harder than Robert thought it was going to be. He managed to find a random shithole, still in Los Angeles, that charged maybe a little bit too much for what he got but he couldn’t care less. He dropped his boxes on the floor and sighed, running a hand down his face. He stared at the large crack in the wall and felt a new wave of exhaustion. As Robert looked around the sad empty apartment, he found himself wondering if he should get a dog.