Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > A Little Less 16 Candles... continued...
Simon straightened up and sighed as he removed the stethoscope from his ears. Turning a tired smile to Joe and Andrea, he nodded reassuringly.
“How is he?” Joe asked stepping forward, Simon’s reassuring nod, not quite reassuring enough; Joe wanted actual words.
“He’s mildly concussed, but he’ll be okay in a day or two. Thanks,” he replied taking the mug of coffee offered by Andrea. “It’s likely that his memory may be a little sketchy but that’s normal for concussion.”
“You mean he won’t remember falling?” Joe asked.
Simon smiled and shook his head. “I think we both know he didn’t fall, Joe.”
Joe stared, wide-eyed. Did he really know that or was he just guessing?
“He has no bruises anywhere on his body, but a massive lump on his forehead and a matching dent in the bedside cabinet. Now tell me what’s going on around here. First Patrick and now Andy? What’s going on? And I mean really, not the fairy tales you’re feeding me.”
Joe took a deep breath; Simon was not easily fooled. Casting a quick glance to the bedside cabinet, Joe checked to see if there really was a dent – there wasn’t.
“I was kidding, Joe, now what’s going on?” Simon pressed.
“You know we fight vampires?”
“Yeah, I know. I’d probably get struck off the medical register if I admitted that in public, but yeah, I know.”
“What? Simon, this town is overrun with vampires. You’d have to be blind not to notice,” Joe corrected.
“Welcome to the world of the Medical Council,” Simon grinned then continued as if reading from a medical journal. “It is medically impossible for a person to exist without a heartbeat, therefore it is inconceivable that vampires exist.”
“They exist enough to kill!” Joe snapped angrily in reply.
“I’m not the one you have to convince, Joe,” Simon replied with a shrug of his shoulders as he reached into his bag for a syringe.
“What are you giving him?” Andrea asked, as she watched him measure out a dose of a clear liquid.
“Just something to help him relax and get some sleep, that’s all,” Simon replied as he pierced the skin on Andy’s left arm.
“He was attacked by a vampire,” Joe explained.
“Really?” Simon carefully disposed of the syringe in a portable sharps box. “Unconventional sort of attack for a vampire, isn’t it?”
“Well, he…” Joe began.
“Where’s Patrick?” Simon asked pointedly.
“Wh… what?” Joe stammered.
“It’s a simple enough question,” Simon smiled as he closed his bag. “Where’s Patrick? Last time I was here, he was dying. You haven’t said anything about him. So where is he now?”
“Well, what if he had died? That’s pretty insensitive of you!”
“But he didn’t, did he?” Simon cocked his head to one side. “Your boy, Pete, turned him didn’t he? And by the looks of this, he didn’t turn out quite so much on the good side as he did.”
“I don’t know how good Pete is,” Joe sighed with a resigned shrug; it felt to him as though he wasn’t sure of anything any more.
Simon gave a derisory snort. “Well, it’s true enough, Pete can be a real surly bastard sometimes, but at least he fights with you, not against you.” Picking up on Joe’s hesitation, Simon continued. “Or does he?”
“It’s been difficult lately,” Joe sighed flopping down into a chair. “We were captured during a hunt. It was a trap and we just didn’t see it coming.”
“But you got away? All of you, yeah?”
Simon’s voice lost all hint of amusement; listening intently as Joe explained everything that had happened to them since that fateful night.
“So, now Pete’s still at Beckett’s and Patrick?” he clarified.
“We’ve no idea where he is,” Joe admitted.
“But he’s evil?” Simon asked.
“Isn’t it possible that he’s just not used to his own strength yet?” Joe asked the question he himself had considered on finding Andy.
“Anything’s possible, Joe. The hard part is knowing when you’re really hearing the truth and not just wishing it were true.”
*
“You go,” Patrick gasped, his eyes struggling to stay open. “I won’t make it.”
“You will!” Pete assured him. “I’ll carry you if I have to, but we are going to make it!”
Pete cursed inwardly as the approaching dawn wore Patrick down. He remembered how it was for him when he was first turned; he had slept a lot. It had taken him several weeks before he could stay awake until dawn; he had found the changes in his body new, a little scary and frequently exhausting. Pete knew it would be the same for Patrick. He wasn’t even certain if Patrick had managed to eat anything.
“Not far now,” he encouraged, catching Patrick as he tripped over his leaden feet once more. In return, Patrick offered little more than an exhausted grunt.
They were so close now, but the sky was lightening with every step and Pete knew that they were cutting it desperately fine. Pete had considered hiding somewhere until the next night. In any other situation, he would have given it serious thought, but he just wanted to get home. In the last couple of days, he had been starved, drained, been tied up, locked up, chained, tasered or been under some sort of hypnotic trance and he desperately needed something familiar. He needed above all else to be in the comfort and safety of home.
Finally, after what felt like an age, Pete gave a sigh of relief as the warehouse loomed into view. The sky was now a worryingly light shade of blue with rivers of gold and red beginning to stream across the horizon. Hammering on the locked door, Pete yelled for attention as the twilight began to give way to the rising sun and the first of the birds began their songs.
“Joe!” he yelled in a controlled panic as he too began to feel sleepy. “Andy! Let us in! Why is the door locked? Let us in!”
Turning his back on the door, Pete looked around, there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. It was too late to go anywhere else, if they weren’t allowed in soon, they would both be dead. Turning back, Pete raised his arm once more. As he did, the door opened suddenly to reveal Joe glaring sternly.
“At last!” Pete cried as he felt a wave of exhaustion hit him; he knew that he couldn’t stay awake much longer himself. At his feet, Patrick had already crumpled into a deep sleep. “The door was locked! Help me with Patrick.”
Leaning down, Pete took one of Patrick’s arms over his shoulder and lifted him awkwardly. Glancing up, Pete was surprised to see that Joe was unmoved and still standing in the doorway.
“It’s nearly dawn!” Pete cried in frustration, as still Joe made no attempt to help him. Stepping forward, Pete was surprised as Joe took a small step back as though to let him in and yet, he found his entry somehow blocked. Trying again, Pete’s brow furrowed as some invisible force kept him from entering.
“What’s going on? How did you…?”
“You need to be invited in,” Joe explained. “You know that.”
“I don’t need to be invited every time! I live here!”
“Not any more,” Joe shook his head. “Not since you betrayed us and went back to Beckett.”
“B… but… you know that wasn’t my fault!” Pete stammered, surprised by Joe’s reaction.
“You nearly killed Andy,” he frowned deeply.
“Come on, man! You know that wasn’t me! It was the blood. I tried to get him to chain me up, but it all happened too quickly. I rescued your girl, doesn’t that count for anything?”
“And him?” Joe nodded in Patrick’s direction. “You’re with him even though he attacked Andy?”
“He…? What…?” Pete looked down at Patrick, sleeping peacefully at his feet. “I don’t know about that, but… no, I don’t know. What I do know is that if you don’t let us in, we’ll die out here.”
“Joe,” Andrea spoke calmly behind him. “Let them in. It’s dawn; they can’t do any harm now.”
Joe frowned deeply as he glanced over his shoulder at Andrea, before turning a harsh glare back at Pete. “Is this your doing? Are you messing with her mind?”
“No, but I’m thinking someone’s messed with yours!” Pete snapped, his eyes closing as the last of the stars faded from view. Dropping to his knees, Pete’s next words were slurred. “Do whatever you have to, just don’t kill us. Hear us out. Please!”
As he slumped forward and fell into a deep sleep, Pete was oblivious to Joe hauling him through the open doorway. Stooping, Joe pulled Patrick inside, away from the encroaching dawn and certain death.
“I hope you’re right about this,” Joe sighed as he stared at the two vampires lying unconscious at his feet.
Andrea ran her fingers quickly yet soothingly through his dark curls.
“William was going to kill me for sure, but Pete rescued me. He could have left me and saved himself, but he didn’t he saved me and sacrificed his own freedom in the process. I think he deserves a proper hearing, if nothing else.”
“And Patrick?” Joe raised an eyebrow. “He nearly killed Andy.”
“I don’t think it was intentional,” Andrea shrugged. “From what you said, he was turned only hours before. You said it yourself, I doubt he knows his own strength yet.”
Joe nodded his agreement, as he recalled an argument with Pete shortly after his turning. Although he neither could remember precisely how the argument had happened, nor what it was about, he did remember that Pete had landed such a heavy blow to his stomach that he struggled to walk for a day or two later. The incident had extended Pete’s captive status for at least a week, but it proved to be exactly as Andrea had said – a new vampire with no concept of his own strength.
“Well, let’s hope, eh?”
*
“What shall I do with him?” Beckett sighed miserably as he stood over the still unconscious, but healing body of Mike.
Brendon pouted. His instinct told him to suggest that Beckett kill him, but he felt that some sort of gesture was required. A way to demonstrate the trust he had in his master, or at least as much as he could fabricate. His own self-preservation told him to rid himself of rivals, but his attempts to overrule his own paranoid nature led him to think that he should encourage Beckett to strengthen them.
“You’ve lost a senior, perhaps you should make up for this by increasing the strength of your remaining seniors?”
“You would be happy for me to make another vampire, a rival to your position, stronger?” Beckett’s eyes widened at the thought.
“William, you know me well,” he nodded. “Well enough to know that I fear rivals, but not so well that you don’t realise that I will do anything to achieve your goals. If strengthening my rivals is what it takes to defeat the hunters, then that’s what I’ll support.”
Beckett’s lips turned up in a satisfied smile. “Don’t worry, Brendon, your position will not be usurped again. I have a plan, but I will need your help.”
“How is he?” Joe asked stepping forward, Simon’s reassuring nod, not quite reassuring enough; Joe wanted actual words.
“He’s mildly concussed, but he’ll be okay in a day or two. Thanks,” he replied taking the mug of coffee offered by Andrea. “It’s likely that his memory may be a little sketchy but that’s normal for concussion.”
“You mean he won’t remember falling?” Joe asked.
Simon smiled and shook his head. “I think we both know he didn’t fall, Joe.”
Joe stared, wide-eyed. Did he really know that or was he just guessing?
“He has no bruises anywhere on his body, but a massive lump on his forehead and a matching dent in the bedside cabinet. Now tell me what’s going on around here. First Patrick and now Andy? What’s going on? And I mean really, not the fairy tales you’re feeding me.”
Joe took a deep breath; Simon was not easily fooled. Casting a quick glance to the bedside cabinet, Joe checked to see if there really was a dent – there wasn’t.
“I was kidding, Joe, now what’s going on?” Simon pressed.
“You know we fight vampires?”
“Yeah, I know. I’d probably get struck off the medical register if I admitted that in public, but yeah, I know.”
“What? Simon, this town is overrun with vampires. You’d have to be blind not to notice,” Joe corrected.
“Welcome to the world of the Medical Council,” Simon grinned then continued as if reading from a medical journal. “It is medically impossible for a person to exist without a heartbeat, therefore it is inconceivable that vampires exist.”
“They exist enough to kill!” Joe snapped angrily in reply.
“I’m not the one you have to convince, Joe,” Simon replied with a shrug of his shoulders as he reached into his bag for a syringe.
“What are you giving him?” Andrea asked, as she watched him measure out a dose of a clear liquid.
“Just something to help him relax and get some sleep, that’s all,” Simon replied as he pierced the skin on Andy’s left arm.
“He was attacked by a vampire,” Joe explained.
“Really?” Simon carefully disposed of the syringe in a portable sharps box. “Unconventional sort of attack for a vampire, isn’t it?”
“Well, he…” Joe began.
“Where’s Patrick?” Simon asked pointedly.
“Wh… what?” Joe stammered.
“It’s a simple enough question,” Simon smiled as he closed his bag. “Where’s Patrick? Last time I was here, he was dying. You haven’t said anything about him. So where is he now?”
“Well, what if he had died? That’s pretty insensitive of you!”
“But he didn’t, did he?” Simon cocked his head to one side. “Your boy, Pete, turned him didn’t he? And by the looks of this, he didn’t turn out quite so much on the good side as he did.”
“I don’t know how good Pete is,” Joe sighed with a resigned shrug; it felt to him as though he wasn’t sure of anything any more.
Simon gave a derisory snort. “Well, it’s true enough, Pete can be a real surly bastard sometimes, but at least he fights with you, not against you.” Picking up on Joe’s hesitation, Simon continued. “Or does he?”
“It’s been difficult lately,” Joe sighed flopping down into a chair. “We were captured during a hunt. It was a trap and we just didn’t see it coming.”
“But you got away? All of you, yeah?”
Simon’s voice lost all hint of amusement; listening intently as Joe explained everything that had happened to them since that fateful night.
“So, now Pete’s still at Beckett’s and Patrick?” he clarified.
“We’ve no idea where he is,” Joe admitted.
“But he’s evil?” Simon asked.
“Isn’t it possible that he’s just not used to his own strength yet?” Joe asked the question he himself had considered on finding Andy.
“Anything’s possible, Joe. The hard part is knowing when you’re really hearing the truth and not just wishing it were true.”
*
“You go,” Patrick gasped, his eyes struggling to stay open. “I won’t make it.”
“You will!” Pete assured him. “I’ll carry you if I have to, but we are going to make it!”
Pete cursed inwardly as the approaching dawn wore Patrick down. He remembered how it was for him when he was first turned; he had slept a lot. It had taken him several weeks before he could stay awake until dawn; he had found the changes in his body new, a little scary and frequently exhausting. Pete knew it would be the same for Patrick. He wasn’t even certain if Patrick had managed to eat anything.
“Not far now,” he encouraged, catching Patrick as he tripped over his leaden feet once more. In return, Patrick offered little more than an exhausted grunt.
They were so close now, but the sky was lightening with every step and Pete knew that they were cutting it desperately fine. Pete had considered hiding somewhere until the next night. In any other situation, he would have given it serious thought, but he just wanted to get home. In the last couple of days, he had been starved, drained, been tied up, locked up, chained, tasered or been under some sort of hypnotic trance and he desperately needed something familiar. He needed above all else to be in the comfort and safety of home.
Finally, after what felt like an age, Pete gave a sigh of relief as the warehouse loomed into view. The sky was now a worryingly light shade of blue with rivers of gold and red beginning to stream across the horizon. Hammering on the locked door, Pete yelled for attention as the twilight began to give way to the rising sun and the first of the birds began their songs.
“Joe!” he yelled in a controlled panic as he too began to feel sleepy. “Andy! Let us in! Why is the door locked? Let us in!”
Turning his back on the door, Pete looked around, there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. It was too late to go anywhere else, if they weren’t allowed in soon, they would both be dead. Turning back, Pete raised his arm once more. As he did, the door opened suddenly to reveal Joe glaring sternly.
“At last!” Pete cried as he felt a wave of exhaustion hit him; he knew that he couldn’t stay awake much longer himself. At his feet, Patrick had already crumpled into a deep sleep. “The door was locked! Help me with Patrick.”
Leaning down, Pete took one of Patrick’s arms over his shoulder and lifted him awkwardly. Glancing up, Pete was surprised to see that Joe was unmoved and still standing in the doorway.
“It’s nearly dawn!” Pete cried in frustration, as still Joe made no attempt to help him. Stepping forward, Pete was surprised as Joe took a small step back as though to let him in and yet, he found his entry somehow blocked. Trying again, Pete’s brow furrowed as some invisible force kept him from entering.
“What’s going on? How did you…?”
“You need to be invited in,” Joe explained. “You know that.”
“I don’t need to be invited every time! I live here!”
“Not any more,” Joe shook his head. “Not since you betrayed us and went back to Beckett.”
“B… but… you know that wasn’t my fault!” Pete stammered, surprised by Joe’s reaction.
“You nearly killed Andy,” he frowned deeply.
“Come on, man! You know that wasn’t me! It was the blood. I tried to get him to chain me up, but it all happened too quickly. I rescued your girl, doesn’t that count for anything?”
“And him?” Joe nodded in Patrick’s direction. “You’re with him even though he attacked Andy?”
“He…? What…?” Pete looked down at Patrick, sleeping peacefully at his feet. “I don’t know about that, but… no, I don’t know. What I do know is that if you don’t let us in, we’ll die out here.”
“Joe,” Andrea spoke calmly behind him. “Let them in. It’s dawn; they can’t do any harm now.”
Joe frowned deeply as he glanced over his shoulder at Andrea, before turning a harsh glare back at Pete. “Is this your doing? Are you messing with her mind?”
“No, but I’m thinking someone’s messed with yours!” Pete snapped, his eyes closing as the last of the stars faded from view. Dropping to his knees, Pete’s next words were slurred. “Do whatever you have to, just don’t kill us. Hear us out. Please!”
As he slumped forward and fell into a deep sleep, Pete was oblivious to Joe hauling him through the open doorway. Stooping, Joe pulled Patrick inside, away from the encroaching dawn and certain death.
“I hope you’re right about this,” Joe sighed as he stared at the two vampires lying unconscious at his feet.
Andrea ran her fingers quickly yet soothingly through his dark curls.
“William was going to kill me for sure, but Pete rescued me. He could have left me and saved himself, but he didn’t he saved me and sacrificed his own freedom in the process. I think he deserves a proper hearing, if nothing else.”
“And Patrick?” Joe raised an eyebrow. “He nearly killed Andy.”
“I don’t think it was intentional,” Andrea shrugged. “From what you said, he was turned only hours before. You said it yourself, I doubt he knows his own strength yet.”
Joe nodded his agreement, as he recalled an argument with Pete shortly after his turning. Although he neither could remember precisely how the argument had happened, nor what it was about, he did remember that Pete had landed such a heavy blow to his stomach that he struggled to walk for a day or two later. The incident had extended Pete’s captive status for at least a week, but it proved to be exactly as Andrea had said – a new vampire with no concept of his own strength.
“Well, let’s hope, eh?”
*
“What shall I do with him?” Beckett sighed miserably as he stood over the still unconscious, but healing body of Mike.
Brendon pouted. His instinct told him to suggest that Beckett kill him, but he felt that some sort of gesture was required. A way to demonstrate the trust he had in his master, or at least as much as he could fabricate. His own self-preservation told him to rid himself of rivals, but his attempts to overrule his own paranoid nature led him to think that he should encourage Beckett to strengthen them.
“You’ve lost a senior, perhaps you should make up for this by increasing the strength of your remaining seniors?”
“You would be happy for me to make another vampire, a rival to your position, stronger?” Beckett’s eyes widened at the thought.
“William, you know me well,” he nodded. “Well enough to know that I fear rivals, but not so well that you don’t realise that I will do anything to achieve your goals. If strengthening my rivals is what it takes to defeat the hunters, then that’s what I’ll support.”
Beckett’s lips turned up in a satisfied smile. “Don’t worry, Brendon, your position will not be usurped again. I have a plan, but I will need your help.”
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