Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Setting Sun
Tom nodded and gave Jon’s shoulder a small, reassuring pat. “Go help yourself to one of the humans we brought home, you deserve it for all your hard work. I’ll go talk to William.”
2Ambiance
In his hidden spot, the vampire watched with his steel grey eyes as Pete let the disposed of William Beckett drop unceremoniously to the ground. A humored smile graced the lips of the vampire as Pete and his group left the room in a silence that was soon shattered as the screams of the Dandies residing in the house filled the empty air. Leaving his hiding spot, the vampire moved to stand by William Beckett, whose brown eyes, with the life fading from them, turned to look up at him with confusion.
He cocked his head as his steel grey eyes met with William’s brown orbs. “I guess Spencer was right in asking my Master to keep an eye on you,” he mused, his obvious humor seeping through his words as he regarded the state William Beckett had been left in.
He bent down and scooped William up into his arms before he hid their presence from everyone that would come near them and fled out of the window in time to escape the blast of flames that was quickly consuming the once grand mansion.
- - - - -
As they arrived at his Master’s home, the male went straight to the medic, Jon Walker, and laid William out on the table in the room that resembled a hospital room. He sent out a mental call to both his Master and Jon Walker, letting him know that he had arrived with William Beckett and that he was soon to die. It didn’t take long for Jon Walker to appear, having been closer to his work room than their Master, and when he laid his eyes on the dying vampire, he shook his head.
“This is who Spencer was working for?” Jon questioned as he moved closer ad began strapping William down to begin his work.
“Yes, this is William Beckett,” answered the errand boy as he watched William try to weakly stop Jon from securing him to the table. “Pete Wentz did the damage that you see on his neck. I’m surprised his stayed alive long enough for me to get him here,” he said as he leaned against the wall.
Jon secured a strap around William’s forehead, making sure the vampire couldn’t snap up at him when he began his work. Both him and the runner looked up when their Master walked in the room, frowning when he saw William Beckett, and the state the vampire was in. “He’s still alive, Master,” Jon said as he looked back down to the wound, “but until I study this wound, I won’t be sure just how much damage was done.”
Thomas Conrad nodded as he looked to his pet, who gave him a small smile as he stepped forward to his Master. “You did a good job in bringing him to me, my pet,” he said as he stroked the chin of his pet, who smiled more at his Master’s affections.
“I brought him as fast as I could, so that no one would be able to trace my path and interrupt my errand,” he boasted, earning a smile from Tom. “I masked our presence, but you never know who would have seen us if they were to catch us at the right time.”
“Such is true, my pet, now go get ready for tonight’s hunt,” he purred, “I want you to come with me instead of roaming with those…disgraces,” he sneered, showing his disapproval of his pet’s night time activities. “Is this understood?”
“Yes, Master,” he said as he turned and left the room, leaving Tom alone with Jon, who was busying himself with cleaning the wound Pete inflicted on William’s neck.
“How does it look?” Tom questioned as he moved to stand beside the table, looking down at his old comrade, who he once roamed the night with long ago.
Jon shook his head. “It really isn’t looking all that good, Master Conrad,” he answered as he explored the wound as he cleaned, making sure that none of the jagged tears had anything contaminating them from William being moved from place to place.
Tom frowned as he rested a gentle hand on William’s hair, some of it covered and matted with his own blood. “Obviously he’ll live, even if he dies, once he gets some food in him,” he said as the pained eyes of his old friend looked up at him with confusion. “But do what you can to make sure the wound heals properly.”
“Yes Master Conrad,” Jon said as he continued to clean.
Tom looked into his friend’s eyes, seeing the confusion in the liquid browns that continued to stare up at him. He could practically see the million and one questions lurking beneath those eyes, but he knew how much energy it would take for William to use his telepathy to ask them all. It was energy that William needed to save for now. “Rest, old friend,” Tom said softly. “I know we have a bitter past between us, but I assure you, you are safe here. Jon is going to work on healing your neck, so any pain he causes, excuse him, for it’s not his fault.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to William’s forehead, just under the strap holding his head down, and looking up to Jon. “Take good care of him, Jon,” he said as he turned and left the room.
- - - - -
Tom frowned as he took in what his medic had just informed him about his old friend. “It can’t be repaired?” He questioned, trying to fully understand it all.
“No, Master Conrad, it can’t. I tried all I could, but the tearing of his larynx was too severe,” Jon answered, his own frown on his lips. He hated not being able to help someone, it had been what he had been best at in life, and technically after death. Even when he was a human doctor, he hated not being able to help heal a wound, or help save a life, apparently that had carried over in his turning. “William Beckett will never talk again, not unless somehow his body does the work I couldn’t do.” He shook his head before he lowered it. “I’m sorry I failed you Master.”
“No, Jon, you didn’t fail me,” Tom said as he placed his hand on his servant’s shoulder. “It was something out of your control, something you couldn’t fix. Have you told him yet?”
“No Master, I thought it would be better if I left that task up to you.”
Tom nodded and gave Jon’s shoulder a small, reassuring pat. “Go help yourself to one of the humans we brought home, you deserve it for all your hard work. I’ll go talk to William.”
Tom watched as his servant nodded and left the office, leaving him to his thoughts as he tried to figure the best way to tell his friend the news of his voice being forever lost. He slowly rose from his chair and made his way out of the room and up the stairs leading from the second floor to the third floor, to the room where he had instructed Jon to take William to rest. Standing outside the wood door, he knocked softly and walked in, shutting the door behind himself.
Across the room, in his forced silence, William sat on the window seat, staring out the window at the bright moon that lit up the small wooded area that the house was built in. Upon hearing Tom enter the room, William turned and looked at his old friend. “How long until I can speak again, Tom?” He questioned mentally, cutting straight to the point. He never had liked to keep quiet, not even hundreds of years ago when he was human.
Tom frowned as he took a seat on the bed in the room and ran his fingers through his hair. “William, when Pete ripped out your throat, he damaged your larynx, your voice box, pretty bad,” he said as he looked at his friend, whose face was slowly going stoic as he waited for the finishing line, “and it was unable to be fixed… You’ll never talk again. You can open your mouth and move it, but no words will come out.”
“What!? Isn’t your medic worth a damn bit of good? Can’t he do shit? Why do you keep him around!?”
The questions brought a deeper frown to Tom’s features and the dangerous look in his eyes made William’s mental attack stop short. “Jon did everything he could for you, William, so keep your insults to yourself. He said there is a very, miniscule chance that your as your body finishes healing, it might fix your muscle, but it’s so small it practically isn’t there. If you want to blame someone for your problem, you blame Wentz, not Jon, you got that?”
William gave a slow nod, though his eyes showed the anger he now held at being talked to so brashly. It had been a lot time since someone spoke that way to him, with nothing he could do about it, and now he was remembering why he hated it so much. “Sorry, but I doubt you could imagine just how frustrated I am.” William turned his attention back out the window, regarding the woods with his hatred for Pete, that now burned stronger. And Deacon, the pet that betrayed him not once, but twice, and managed to live to tell about it. “Tell me, Tom, why have you come to my aid after centuries of silence between our clans?”
“Spencer Smith,” Tom answered, making William turn his head to look at him. “Spencer came to me several months ago, stating that Pete Wentz was causing a stir for you. He filled me in on all the details I needed to know at the time and asked me to keep an eye on your clan. When my pet saw your dilemma, he brought you here and we did what we could. From there you know the rest.”
“The bad blood between us…?” William left the question hanging in the air as he stared at Tom with a skeptical look.
Tom shook his head. “Time has helped me to forgive you, William, but know that it was the first and only time you will ever betray me. If you ever betray me again, I’m washing my hands of you, no matter what trouble you bring upon yourself.”
- - - - -
William licked the blood from his lips as he let the lifeless boy fall to the floor, not caring about the sick thud from the impact of being dropped two floors up. His eyes looked to the pet by Tom’s side, remembering the day he had sent the boy to his old friend as a gift, hoping to get on his good side once more. He knew he had done Tom wrong, by leaving him to die at the hand of the group of hunters that had surrounded them in the early 1800s, but it had taken him until a couple years ago to send an apology gift.
A knock on the front door drew William’s eyes to it as one of the pets of the house took on the task of disposing of the boy William had drained. Leaping from the second floor, William landed silently on the main floor and walked to the door, accompanied by one of Tom’s guards, to make sure there was no trouble.
When the door opened, he came face to face, with one of Tom’s errand boys who didn’t live at the home because he wanted to stay with the family he had before being turned. Matt McGinley stared at William Beckett, having not seen him at the house before, and if he hadn’t quickly calmed himself, his heart would have skipped a beat, but he quickly walked in and went to his Master. Without one more look at William, he went to Tom and opened the bag he had carried in, handing it to his Master as he tried desperately to keep his thoughts off of what he truly wanted to think about.
[Author's Note: And that my loves is where I am leaving you until next Monday =D. Sorry loves, looks like Sas X and I aren't the only ones who had this in mind lol I just brought him back in my own way lol. I've had this chap typed long before "A Little More Kill Him" came out, so no I'm not stealing her idea lol I'll clear that up now. I have to say though, a world where William Beckett can't talk anymore? This makes me cry.]
He cocked his head as his steel grey eyes met with William’s brown orbs. “I guess Spencer was right in asking my Master to keep an eye on you,” he mused, his obvious humor seeping through his words as he regarded the state William Beckett had been left in.
He bent down and scooped William up into his arms before he hid their presence from everyone that would come near them and fled out of the window in time to escape the blast of flames that was quickly consuming the once grand mansion.
- - - - -
As they arrived at his Master’s home, the male went straight to the medic, Jon Walker, and laid William out on the table in the room that resembled a hospital room. He sent out a mental call to both his Master and Jon Walker, letting him know that he had arrived with William Beckett and that he was soon to die. It didn’t take long for Jon Walker to appear, having been closer to his work room than their Master, and when he laid his eyes on the dying vampire, he shook his head.
“This is who Spencer was working for?” Jon questioned as he moved closer ad began strapping William down to begin his work.
“Yes, this is William Beckett,” answered the errand boy as he watched William try to weakly stop Jon from securing him to the table. “Pete Wentz did the damage that you see on his neck. I’m surprised his stayed alive long enough for me to get him here,” he said as he leaned against the wall.
Jon secured a strap around William’s forehead, making sure the vampire couldn’t snap up at him when he began his work. Both him and the runner looked up when their Master walked in the room, frowning when he saw William Beckett, and the state the vampire was in. “He’s still alive, Master,” Jon said as he looked back down to the wound, “but until I study this wound, I won’t be sure just how much damage was done.”
Thomas Conrad nodded as he looked to his pet, who gave him a small smile as he stepped forward to his Master. “You did a good job in bringing him to me, my pet,” he said as he stroked the chin of his pet, who smiled more at his Master’s affections.
“I brought him as fast as I could, so that no one would be able to trace my path and interrupt my errand,” he boasted, earning a smile from Tom. “I masked our presence, but you never know who would have seen us if they were to catch us at the right time.”
“Such is true, my pet, now go get ready for tonight’s hunt,” he purred, “I want you to come with me instead of roaming with those…disgraces,” he sneered, showing his disapproval of his pet’s night time activities. “Is this understood?”
“Yes, Master,” he said as he turned and left the room, leaving Tom alone with Jon, who was busying himself with cleaning the wound Pete inflicted on William’s neck.
“How does it look?” Tom questioned as he moved to stand beside the table, looking down at his old comrade, who he once roamed the night with long ago.
Jon shook his head. “It really isn’t looking all that good, Master Conrad,” he answered as he explored the wound as he cleaned, making sure that none of the jagged tears had anything contaminating them from William being moved from place to place.
Tom frowned as he rested a gentle hand on William’s hair, some of it covered and matted with his own blood. “Obviously he’ll live, even if he dies, once he gets some food in him,” he said as the pained eyes of his old friend looked up at him with confusion. “But do what you can to make sure the wound heals properly.”
“Yes Master Conrad,” Jon said as he continued to clean.
Tom looked into his friend’s eyes, seeing the confusion in the liquid browns that continued to stare up at him. He could practically see the million and one questions lurking beneath those eyes, but he knew how much energy it would take for William to use his telepathy to ask them all. It was energy that William needed to save for now. “Rest, old friend,” Tom said softly. “I know we have a bitter past between us, but I assure you, you are safe here. Jon is going to work on healing your neck, so any pain he causes, excuse him, for it’s not his fault.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to William’s forehead, just under the strap holding his head down, and looking up to Jon. “Take good care of him, Jon,” he said as he turned and left the room.
- - - - -
Tom frowned as he took in what his medic had just informed him about his old friend. “It can’t be repaired?” He questioned, trying to fully understand it all.
“No, Master Conrad, it can’t. I tried all I could, but the tearing of his larynx was too severe,” Jon answered, his own frown on his lips. He hated not being able to help someone, it had been what he had been best at in life, and technically after death. Even when he was a human doctor, he hated not being able to help heal a wound, or help save a life, apparently that had carried over in his turning. “William Beckett will never talk again, not unless somehow his body does the work I couldn’t do.” He shook his head before he lowered it. “I’m sorry I failed you Master.”
“No, Jon, you didn’t fail me,” Tom said as he placed his hand on his servant’s shoulder. “It was something out of your control, something you couldn’t fix. Have you told him yet?”
“No Master, I thought it would be better if I left that task up to you.”
Tom nodded and gave Jon’s shoulder a small, reassuring pat. “Go help yourself to one of the humans we brought home, you deserve it for all your hard work. I’ll go talk to William.”
Tom watched as his servant nodded and left the office, leaving him to his thoughts as he tried to figure the best way to tell his friend the news of his voice being forever lost. He slowly rose from his chair and made his way out of the room and up the stairs leading from the second floor to the third floor, to the room where he had instructed Jon to take William to rest. Standing outside the wood door, he knocked softly and walked in, shutting the door behind himself.
Across the room, in his forced silence, William sat on the window seat, staring out the window at the bright moon that lit up the small wooded area that the house was built in. Upon hearing Tom enter the room, William turned and looked at his old friend. “How long until I can speak again, Tom?” He questioned mentally, cutting straight to the point. He never had liked to keep quiet, not even hundreds of years ago when he was human.
Tom frowned as he took a seat on the bed in the room and ran his fingers through his hair. “William, when Pete ripped out your throat, he damaged your larynx, your voice box, pretty bad,” he said as he looked at his friend, whose face was slowly going stoic as he waited for the finishing line, “and it was unable to be fixed… You’ll never talk again. You can open your mouth and move it, but no words will come out.”
“What!? Isn’t your medic worth a damn bit of good? Can’t he do shit? Why do you keep him around!?”
The questions brought a deeper frown to Tom’s features and the dangerous look in his eyes made William’s mental attack stop short. “Jon did everything he could for you, William, so keep your insults to yourself. He said there is a very, miniscule chance that your as your body finishes healing, it might fix your muscle, but it’s so small it practically isn’t there. If you want to blame someone for your problem, you blame Wentz, not Jon, you got that?”
William gave a slow nod, though his eyes showed the anger he now held at being talked to so brashly. It had been a lot time since someone spoke that way to him, with nothing he could do about it, and now he was remembering why he hated it so much. “Sorry, but I doubt you could imagine just how frustrated I am.” William turned his attention back out the window, regarding the woods with his hatred for Pete, that now burned stronger. And Deacon, the pet that betrayed him not once, but twice, and managed to live to tell about it. “Tell me, Tom, why have you come to my aid after centuries of silence between our clans?”
“Spencer Smith,” Tom answered, making William turn his head to look at him. “Spencer came to me several months ago, stating that Pete Wentz was causing a stir for you. He filled me in on all the details I needed to know at the time and asked me to keep an eye on your clan. When my pet saw your dilemma, he brought you here and we did what we could. From there you know the rest.”
“The bad blood between us…?” William left the question hanging in the air as he stared at Tom with a skeptical look.
Tom shook his head. “Time has helped me to forgive you, William, but know that it was the first and only time you will ever betray me. If you ever betray me again, I’m washing my hands of you, no matter what trouble you bring upon yourself.”
- - - - -
William licked the blood from his lips as he let the lifeless boy fall to the floor, not caring about the sick thud from the impact of being dropped two floors up. His eyes looked to the pet by Tom’s side, remembering the day he had sent the boy to his old friend as a gift, hoping to get on his good side once more. He knew he had done Tom wrong, by leaving him to die at the hand of the group of hunters that had surrounded them in the early 1800s, but it had taken him until a couple years ago to send an apology gift.
A knock on the front door drew William’s eyes to it as one of the pets of the house took on the task of disposing of the boy William had drained. Leaping from the second floor, William landed silently on the main floor and walked to the door, accompanied by one of Tom’s guards, to make sure there was no trouble.
When the door opened, he came face to face, with one of Tom’s errand boys who didn’t live at the home because he wanted to stay with the family he had before being turned. Matt McGinley stared at William Beckett, having not seen him at the house before, and if he hadn’t quickly calmed himself, his heart would have skipped a beat, but he quickly walked in and went to his Master. Without one more look at William, he went to Tom and opened the bag he had carried in, handing it to his Master as he tried desperately to keep his thoughts off of what he truly wanted to think about.
[Author's Note: And that my loves is where I am leaving you until next Monday =D. Sorry loves, looks like Sas X and I aren't the only ones who had this in mind lol I just brought him back in my own way lol. I've had this chap typed long before "A Little More Kill Him" came out, so no I'm not stealing her idea lol I'll clear that up now. I have to say though, a world where William Beckett can't talk anymore? This makes me cry.]
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