FicWad

Joe was exhausted. At three-twenty in the morning, by rights, he should have been tucked up in bed, but no, not this night. He had flopped into a chair alongside Patrick’s bed and, satisfied that the two vampires were secured and no longer a threat, he closed his eyes. At least inside a warehouse, he didn’t have to worry about windows in Patrick’s bedroom. All the bedrooms, in fact most of the rooms, were entirely without windows. What windows that had existed had long since been blocked up as a concession made to Pete several months earlier. The time would eventually come when Pete would be able to remain awake beyond dawn and it just made sense to them to allow him as much freedom around the warehouse as possible.

On Pete’s return to them, nearly eighteen months earlier, they had needed a method of restraining him. There were few things they could be absolutely certain would work – quite simply, they had never held a vampire prisoner before.

It had been a necessity, but Patrick had reluctantly constructed a cage. It was strong enough to hold a human, certainly, but Pete’s strength was an unknown quantity at the time. Unwilling to risk Pete’s strength being great enough to break free, Patrick had reinforced the cell by the use of an extension of the idea that had been used to construct the mesh guns. Of course, it worked perfectly on paper but then, most things did! He could only hope desperately would work in practice.

His theory assumed that passing an electric current back and forth with a random pattern through the bars, plus constantly changing the wave pattern would create a continually fluctuating electro-magnetic field around the occupant that would be too difficult to grow accustomed to. Patrick had seen the draining effect of the mesh guns on hunts and he hoped this larger and more complex version would have a similar desired effect – that of reducing a vampire’s strength to such a level that the simple cage would hold him. A secondary, but equally useful and desirable advantage was that it disrupted the occupant’s brain patterns enough that the mind games and attempts to control, that vampires favoured so much, were impossible.

Of course, it appeared to work, but Pete was never a truly unwilling occupant. He wanted to return to them and understood the need to ensure their safety. For that reason alone, he had never tried to escape. But, Pete believed that it worked, he admitted that he felt weaker within the cell and even though he had never tried to escape, he seemed reasonably confident that it would have been able to hold him. Believing so much in their need to ensure their own safety and as an extra incentive for them to be comfortable that they had made the right decision, even after they had agreed to release him, Pete had insisted that they keep the cell, should the worst happen and they needed it again.

The worst had happened and, once again, inside the cell, Pete lay on the floor, fastened in chains and still unconscious. Joe didn’t want to think about the current situation, but he had been forced to. He desperately hoped that the combination would be strong enough to hold him.
Dawn was not for another three hours yet, but confident that everyone who needed to be was secured, he allowed his eyes to close. Allowing the pleasant comfort of sleep to wrap around him, Joe felt himself slipping into a comfortable blackness. It lasted about ten seconds.

“Joe?”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it had already cut through his sleep. It might have seemed selfish, but he was utterly exhausted, Joe decided he was dreaming and ignored it.

“Joe!” came the voice again, more persistent this time.

He wanted, no, he needed sleep, but he wasn’t going to get it. That much he’d worked out. Opening his eyes, Joe turned them towards the bed only to see Patrick staring back at him.
Immediately, he felt guilty for ignoring the first call to him. There was pain and confusion in Patrick’s eyes and Joe knew he would have to explain what had happened. Though, how he would or could manage that eluded him.

“Patrick, you’re awake,” Joe forced a smile. “How do you feel?”

It was a stupid question. Well, at least that was his first thought, but maybe it wasn’t, maybe it would help? Maybe Patrick would know exactly what had happened and be able to convince him that he wasn’t evil, what to do about Pete and everything would be fine. Even as the thought drifted through his mind, Joe almost laughed at his own stupidity.

“I…” Patrick began. “I’m chained to the bed. Something’s not right.”

Well, he hasn’t lost his sense of humour. Ugh! Joe! You’re an idiot! Concentrate!

“Uh… well… that is… no.”

Perhaps you should have thought that one through a bit more!

“Joe… I… I feel strange… sort of. I can’t explain.”

Joe turned the chair so it faced the bed and leaned forward. How the hell was he going to explain this?

“Trick, do you remember being captured by Beckett?” Joe asked, deciding he should lead up to it slowly.

Patrick nodded. Joe took a deep breath. He could see his friend was scared; they both were, to different degrees and for very different reasons. It was only now that Joe realised that Patrick was using humour to cover up just how scared he truly felt.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Joe asked, uncertain how much he would need to explain.
Patrick lowered his eyes as he thought. Looking up once more, he continued: “Pete was hungry, Brendon drained him. I was going to be…”

Joe lowered his head as he heard in his head the words that Patrick was about to speak – ‘his first human blood’. Joe was himself surprised at his own reaction, but his eyes would have given it away before any words could. Even hiding his expression didn't help as he discovered that actions really can speak louder than words and Patrick read the sign as easily as if he’d told him outright.

“He drained me, didn’t he?”

Joe nodded, still looking down.

“And then he turned me?”

Joe’s brow furrowed as he heard the catch in Patrick’s throat as he said the words.

“Not there, it was after we escaped. He didn’t want to,” Joe finally found his voice. “You were going to die, we couldn’t let that happen. We made him do it.”
“I’m a vampire?”

From the sound of the incredulity in his voice, Patrick hadn’t truly taken it all in, and really, Joe allowed himself the honesty, why should he? He had effectively died, but was still around to discuss it. You don’t get weirder than that.

“I think Pete thinks you’ll hate him,” Joe offered, for want of something else to say.
Still struggling with the news, Patrick frowned. “I might… if I could feel anything. I always wondered what it was like for Pete. Even thought it might be cool to be…”

As Patrick’s voice tightened, Joe’s head flew up, his eyes wide. Only now did he see just how scared Patrick really was. His eyes had filled with water, and it seemed it would take very little for those tears to spill over his pale cheeks.

“I only wanted to know… I didn’t want to be…” Closing his eyes tightly forced out the tears.
“Hey!” Joe cried sympathetically. Moving from the chair to the bed, Joe forgot himself and pulled Patrick as much as he was able, despite Andy’s intricate pattern of chains, into a hug. “Nobody wanted this, but we didn’t have a choice.”
“No…”

Patrick’s voice sounded suddenly calm, very calm, his grip tightening on Joe’s arms.

“Let go!” Joe cried, suddenly realising that what he thought was a sympathetic hug was in fact, a huge mistake.

The graze of Patrick’s newly formed fangs against his neck gave him the extra impetus needed to pull away. With a grunt of effort, Joe pulled back, wrenching himself free of Patrick’s grip on him. Pushing with all his might against the bed, Joe crashed back into the chair with enough force to push it backwards several feet. Breathless and scared, Joe turned his eyes back to Patrick. The look on Patrick’s face showed panic, confusion and bewilderment, but, to his surprise and distress, Joe couldn’t help but wonder if what he saw was a cover up or a genuine reaction to his instincts overcoming his personal concerns.

“Joe! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what… I… it just…”
“You and Pete will stay chained up!” Joe gasped breathlessly. “Until we can figure out what the hell to do with you!”
“Joe, I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry! It’s an automatic reaction. Like breathing. I wasn’t in control, I am now, I promise you.”
“How can I be sure?” Joe asked the obvious question. “You could just be saying that to…”
“Joe, it’s me!” Patrick argued in his own defence.
“But it isn’t, is it? At least, how can I be sure? Sure that I’m talking, actually talking to Patrick Stump, not just a vampire who’ll say anything to bite me?”
“Joe… I…”

Patrick was at a loss to answer his question at first, but something occurred to him that had to help. Or at the very least, there was a chance.

“You want to talk to the real Patrick Stump?”

The question felt strange, but Joe nodded, uncertain how anything Patrick could say could now be trusted or believed.

“Go to my office, on the top shelf, there’s a journal. Everything I’ve learned about newly turned vampires is in there. There’s quite a lot about Pete in there too, so whatever you do, don’t tell him you’ve seen it. I promised him it would be private, but I think you need to read it. You’ll know what to do.”

Joe nodded. He hoped it wasn’t just a trick to get him out of the room, but Andy’s arrangement of chains seemed very secure.

“Okay,” he nodded again. “I’m sorry, Trick, I really am.”

Patrick gave a nod in return as he dropped his head back onto the pillow; it seemed that Andy had not forgotten how to secure someone so that they could barely move. How must Pete have felt in the same situation? No wonder he was bitter.

*

“Joe?” the voice filtered through his hazy mind. “Joe!”

Looking up, his mind fuzzy and confused from lack of sleep, Joe lifted his head from the still open journal to see Andy looking down at him.

“Have you been here all night?” Andy asked the still confused and disorientated hunter.
“Ah… I… some, yeah.” Joe blinked hard and shook his head. “What time is it?”
“About nine-fifteen,” Andy replied quickly. “Thanks for saving my life, man. I really thought…”
Joe smiled as Andy trailed off. “I’m just sorry I got you with the taser as well. You’ve been out for,” Joe paused, “for nearly twelve hours!”
“Yeah, well, you used one of the modified tasers. Remember? Spencer changed them to take Brendon down. I’m lucky to be alive for two reasons!”
“Sorry, Andy,” Joe pushed himself upright. “It was the first thing that came to hand. I had to do something quick. I’ve had quite a clean up job trying to get you to bed and Pete secured.”
Andy nodded. “Where is Pete?”
“He’s in the cage,” Joe sighed.
“No, he isn’t,” Andy frowned. “I just walked past it; it’s empty.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “That’s not possible! He was in there, it was switched on, he was even chained up! What about Trick?”
“He… he’s okay. He’s asleep. I looked in when I was trying to find you,” Andy replied, shaken by the news.
“Pete’s escaped,” Joe frowned deeply. “It’s gone dawn, so he’ll be asleep somewhere. He could still be here, if he didn’t get out before dawn.”
“Either way, we’re in trouble. He could come back here at any time.”
“And bring anyone with him,” Joe added with concern. “He lives here, he can invite anyone in.”