Bloodlust (Part 1/2) written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spoonyriffic
Aug. 21st, 2010 01:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sinfulslasher posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ncisficathonTitle: Bloodlust
Author: Gaby
Written for:spoonyriffic
Prompt: Tony/Gibbs - Tony is hiding something from Gibbs, but even Gibbs can't weasel it out of him. Can be either serious or humorous, or a little of both: what exactly Tony is hiding is totally up to you. Either way, a happy ending would be much appreciated. Any rating, PG-13 - NC-17 preferred.
Author's Notes: I highly doubt this is even close to what Spoony had in mind, but the Muses made me write it. *g* Also, please note that I pretty much disregard any and all vampire lore and created my own. Why? Because I can! LOL! So, while I don't claim to be in any way creative or imaginative, I did come up with my very own vampire lore. Please keep that in mind if you're a hardcore vampire fan. You're perfectly entitled to look down your nose at me for screwing around with the common knowledge of all things vampire, but I'd prefer it if you kept your crit to yourself. You've been warned, after all. :-)
Thank you totaylorgibbs for the beta! Any remaining oopsies are mine and mine alone, and y'all can't have them!
Warnings: Beware! Here be vampires! That means there's blood in this fic. In addition, potentially disturbing imagery ahead: Some dead OCs, and very general mention of (off-screen) rape, murder and child abuse. Oh yeah, and Gibbs gets whumped.
Archive: I'll do it myself.
Genre: pre-slash
Pairings: Gibbs/Tony
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, never will be, gosh darn it!
Word Count: a little over 11,000
Summary: Gibbs always knew there was something special about the young detective he once hired. He just never imagined it would be Tony's more than unusual heritage.
When Tony was five years old, his father came to him to have "a serious talk". Tony figured it was about the birds and the bees, which he thought was funny because he already knew everything there was to know. His best friend Nicky Cardoso's older brother, Joey, was already nine and had shown Tony and Nicky magazines with naked women. He had also told the younger boys all the important stuff about sex, like the fact that you should never kiss a girl longer than ten seconds, or you'd get her pregnant. Tony still didn't really understand that part. Why would anyone want to kiss a girl, much less for such a long time? No, he was pretty sure he'd never end up getting a girl pregnant.
So Tony wasn't really listening closely when his father began to pace up and down in front of him, rambling about "being special" and "family tradition" and..."vampires"? Tony, who was sitting on the floor and playing with his G.I. Joe doll, blinked and looked up at that, but then decided that he must have heard wrong. His father was too pre-occupied to realize that the little boy hadn't even listened closely; instead, he continued to pace and lecture, as if he was in the middle of an important business meeting and trying to impress potential investors.
Tony shook his head and went back to his G.I. Joe. Vampires. He really must have heard wrong. Tony knew what vampires were, and they only existed in horror stories. They weren't real. They were just some figment of frightened people's imagination. But Tony was a big, brave boy. He wasn't scared of anything!
After a good ten minutes, his father stopped in mid-sentence and stared at Tony, who was still obviously not listening. This changed when the boy was suddenly pulled to his feet and a sharp swat landed on his jeans-covered behind. "This is important, Junior!" Tony's father yelled, and he looked genuinely upset that the boy hadn't paid any attention. "Did you listen to a word I had to say?"
Tony bit his lip and hesitantly reached behind him to rub his smarting butt. "Yes, Daddy," he said dutifully. It was always best not to anger his father when he was in such a serious mood. When his father continued to look unconvinced, Tony ventured, "Vampires." He nodded solemnly, trying to convey that he had, in fact, listened very closely.
Apparently, this was the magic word, because his father nodded and let go of Tony's arm. The boy plopped down on his butt again and grabbed his G.I. Joe, looking a bit unsure now himself. Maybe he had not heard wrong after all, and vampires did exist. His father was a very smart man, after all. If his father said that there were vampires, then there very probably were vampires. Tony looked nervously into the dark corners of his room, his eyes tracking the dancing shadows on the wall. He knew that vampires lived in the dark and only came out at night, and when they stood in front of you, it was a Very Bad Thing because they would bite you and suck out your blood and turn you into a vampire as well if they didn't outright kill you!
Tony's father sighed softly and then smiled at his son. "I'm glad we had this talk," he said, patting his son on the head. "Your mother said you were still too young to understand, but I knew that my boy was smart enough. Glad to see you proved me right, Junior." He looked downright relieved, as if he had made a huge confession. "Well, carry on then. See you at dinner later, Junior." And without another word, he was gone.
Tony stared at the door his father had just closed behind him. Then he slowly turned his head around, his eyes growing larger and larger, his heart beating faster and faster. He continued to try to convince himself that he must have misunderstood his father, that he must have heard wrong, that vampires plain didn't exist.
But then his eyes locked on the canopy above his bed--and he knew that this was where the vampires were hiding.
From that day on, Tony slept curled up in a tight ball in his closet.
XxXxX
When Tony was eight, his mother died.
Tony didn't know what had happened, and nobody really took the time to talk to him. All he heard was "delicate condition" and "fragile disposition". Tony had no idea what that meant. All he knew was that his mommy was gone, and the only person mourning more than Tony was his father, who was absolutely inconsolable.
It took Tony a few days to come to terms with the fact that his mother was truly gone, but then his over-active imagination kicked in, and he began to figure out what had happened to her.
The vampires had killed her! It must have been the vampires! His father had warned him about them years ago, and Tony had been careful not to be caught, but maybe his mother had gotten careless and so a vampire had caught her and killed her! Granted, Tony had never actually seen a vampire, even after his father had mentioned them, but that didn't mean that they didn't exist, did it? And it was the only logical explanation.
Tony berated himself for not having listened to his father more closely all those years ago. But then again, he told himself, back then he had been nothing but a little boy. Now he was a big boy, and he knew what was really important, and listening to one's father was one of the Really Important Things. Tony decided to ask his father about the vampires, figuring that this way he would find out if he was right about how his mother had died. He knew that his father would probably be a little mad at first, because Tony would have to admit that he hadn't really listened closely when they had had The Talk. But Tony decided it was well worth the risk of a stern lecture or even a swat or two, as long as he finally found out what had happened to his mother. Unfortunately, his father was too grief-stricken and had no time or energy to deal with an anxious, scared, slightly hysterical boy.
And so Tony didn't find out why his mother was dead, and he managed to convince himself that it was truly the vampire's fault. He did, at least, insist on finally getting rid of the canopy bed.
XxXxX
When Tony was twelve, he had his first real wet dream.
He woke up, disoriented and confused, wondering for a long moment why his boxer shorts were stuck to his groin and especially why he was lying in a wet spot. For one long moment, he freaked at the thought of actually having wetted his bed, but then he realized that he had had his first real orgasm instead.
Once his brain was finally awake as well, he suddenly also realized that he had a very strange need, an urge he didn't recognize and couldn't quite explain. He just wanted...something, and it made him desperate and agitated, and his blood seemed to burn in his veins.
Tony bit his lip, trying to figure out what was wrong with him, and then yelped softly at the unexpected sharpness of the pain. He frowned, then quickly got out of bed, feeling flushed, feverish somehow, and rushed over to his closet. He opened one of the doors to look in the full-length mirror that was inside. The moonlight shining through the window was bright enough to let him see his face, and even though his eyes clearly saw the pearly white fangs protruding over his lower lip, his brain refused to acknowledge what it meant. Tony merely stared at his reflection, watched his tongue carefully darting out to lick the unusually shaped teeth, stared in complete disbelief at the droplets of bright red blood that were hanging on his lower lip from where he had accidentally bitten himself. But only when he reached up and tried to pull off what he convinced himself to be fake vampire teeth, and the fangs refused to budge, did Tony finally realize that something was really, seriously, utterly wrong with him.
And Tony screamed.
A few seconds later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and his father barged in, looking worried. "Junior? What's wrong?"
Tony shrank back in shock, not wanting to be seen with...with these things in his mouth. He pressed himself against his closet, and then slapped his hands in front of his mouth when his father turned on the light to see him better.
"Junior?" His father blinked, then raised his eyebrows in surprise at his son's behavior. He looked around, taking in everything, and then--beamed. "Junior!" he exclaimed happily. "You finally fledged!"
Tony almost dropped his hands, not to mention his jaw, but stopped himself just in time. "I...what?!" he muttered behind his hands.
"You fledged!" His father grinned broadly, his eyes dropping to the wet spot on Tony's boxers, then on the wet spot in the bed. He nodded knowingly. "I was beginning to worry. You're a real late bloomer, Junior. But now you're finally a fully fledged vampire. The fledging usually coincides with...well, the first obvious signs of puberty." He smiled knowingly while his eyes went back to Tony's boxers.
Tony blushed so much his face hurt. He couldn't believe his father was talking about his first real wet dream like that. And what the hell did that mean? Vampire!
"Come on, son, show me your pretty little fangs. I can't wait to see them for the first time!" His father advanced, looking eager.
Tony shrank back even more. "Dunno what you're talking about," he mumbled behind his hands. His father raised a knowing eyebrow and nodded meaningfully at the hands. Tony dropped them, then muttered defiantly, "Still dunno what you mean," while he tried his best to keep his lips from moving and revealing his fangs.
His father sighed and shook his head. "Stop acting so silly, Junior. Every vampire is proud of his fangs. Now show me what you've got."
Tony's mind was reeling. There his father went again, talking about vampires. But then again, he did have fangs, he could clearly feel them, the pointy ends were gently but insistently digging into his lower lip. He didn't know what any of this meant, and he definitely had no clue what was going on with him. He was only sure of one thing, and so he finally just blurted out hysterically, "I wanna get rid of these things!"
His father shrugged. "Then retract them." He cocked his head, then smiled indulgently. "But why would you want to get rid of them, Junior? Aren't you proud of having finally fledged?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Tony exclaimed frantically, fighting tears of frustration. He felt completely out of control. "And what do you mean, retract?" He didn't even care that his father was now able to see the horrible abominations growing out of his mouth.
His father sighed and held up his hands in a placating manner. He realized that his son, for whatever reason, seemed less than happy to have finally become a fully fledged vampire. He would get to the bottom of this sooner or later, but for now, he needed to calm his son down. "It's quite easy, Junior," he said softly. "Just watch. See?" He pulled his upper lip out of the way with his fingers, then extended his own fangs. A couple of seconds later, he retracted them again. "All you have to do is...decide to do it." He shrugged a little, not sure how better to explain.
But Tony was too busy staring at his father in shock anyway. He blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his vision. He had most certainly not just seen his father turning into a vampire!
His father calmly repeated the process, showing Tony what he was supposed to do. "You have beautiful fangs, Junior, there's no reason why you would want to retract them right away. Don't you want to try them out first?"
"Try them out?" Tony shrieked, convinced that he had most definitely fallen down the rabbit hole. This could not be happening.
His father began to realize that something was definitely wrong. "Junior?" he asked softly. "Don't you remember our talk?"
"Talk? What talk?" Tony whispered, beginning to hyperventilate in panic.
"A few years ago, when I told you about our family. About what's so special about us." He reached out and gently stroked his son's tear-streaked face. "Junior, now that you finally showed your fangs for the first time, you're a fully fledged vampire."
Tony shook his head in frantic denial. He had no idea what his father was talking about. Did he mean the strange monologue all those years ago, when Tony was five and hadn't really listened? The unusual talk that also mentioned vampires? The talk that caused Tony to be convinced a vampire was living in the canopy of his bed? All of that had actually been about him going to be a vampire one day?
"I can't be a vampire!" he finally just exclaimed frantically. "I'm outside all the time, playing sports in the sun! And...and I love garlic!"
His father chuckled indulgently. "Whatever you might have heard about vampires in the past is wrong, Junior. None of those movies you're so fond of portrays us the way we really are." He placed a reassuring hand on Tony's shoulder, squeezing softly.
"Vampires don't exist," Tony argued feebly, trying his best to ignore the fangs that were still pricking his lower lip.
"Of course we do," his father replied with a laugh. "Look, Junior, it's all quite simple. We're not all that different from normal humans."
Tony gave a short bark of laughter. "Right. Except that vampires are undead and like to suck blood."
"We're not undead," his father replied calmly. "At least not technically." At his son's disbelieving snort, he held out his arm. "Touch me, Junior. Am I cold? Do you feel a pulse?"
Tony hesitantly reached out. He couldn't remember a time when he actually thought his father felt...well, cold. If it was true and his father was a vampire, then he should be cold and clammy, like they always said vampires were, but his father had always felt safe and warm when Tony had been little and cuddled in his father's lap. Tony wrapped his hand around his father's wrist. The skin was warm, and there was a definite pulse beating. "That's only proof you're not a vampire!"
His father sighed. "No, son, it means that humans just don't get us. Look, we live a regular life. We can be out in the sun, we can eat garlic, we don't cringe away in pain when we see holy crosses. DiNozzos wouldn't be church-goers otherwise, now would we?"
Tony frowned at that. He was half-Italian and half-English, but his father had always insisted on a strictly Catholic upbringing. Going to church was a weekly ritual. No typical vampire would have survived that. Tony frowned again, suddenly wondering about something else. "If I'm a vampire, how come I keep growing older? Aren't vampires supposed to, well, not age?"
"Ah." His father nodded knowingly, glad to see that Tony was beginning to accept at least the possibility of the DiNozzos being vampires. "Well, as I already said, forget everything you've ever heard or read about vampires, Junior. We do get a kick out of what humans come up with about us, but none of it is really true." He chuckled, then grew serious. "See, there are two ways of becoming a vampire. You're born into one of the old clans, like you, or you're turned into a vampire, like your mother."
Tony gave a strangled cry at that. "You bit Mom and made a vampire out of her?!" he exclaimed in shock. "But she died! Vampires aren't supposed to die!"
His father shook his head and held his hands up placatingly. "Listen to me, Junior. Vampires can die. For one thing, they can be killed, be it by hunters or other vampires. For another, since we're not undead but actually alive, there are ways for a vampire to, well, just die. Not as easily as a human, but yes, it's possible." He shrugged, and his face clearly showed the pain of loss. He still mourned for his wife, even after all those years. "You will continue to grow up and grow older, and you will die a natural death sometime in future unless you find your one true soulmate. Only when you bond with your soulmate, will you stop aging and become...well, not immortal, but a hell of a lot harder to kill off."
"I...do not understand." Tony began to hyperventilate. None of this made sense, and he felt his brain close to exploding.
His father smiled indulgently. "I'm actually close to a hundred years old, Junior. I met your mother when I was about sixty. I had given up on finding my soulmate until I saw her. I courted her for a long time, then I explained to her what I was. She agreed to be bitten by me. Her blood was what I needed to be complete. We bonded. I stopped aging, and I became stronger. Her blood was like a protective shield for me, Junior. At the same time, I turned her into a vampire. She was never as strong as I am because she wasn't a born vampire, but she was, for all intents and purposes, a vampire just like me or you." He smiled sadly, remembering his beloved wife. "Vampires can change their appearance, we can make ourselves look older to avoid suspicion, if that's what you're wondering about."
"I'm more wondering about why my mother is dead even though she was supposed to be an immortal vampire," Tony muttered.
"As I said, vampires also die," his father replied gently. "We can be killed in a few specific ways. We can die of a very few natural causes. We can also kill ourselves if we know how." He looked crushed and guilty at the same time, and Tony wondered for the first time if the rumors were true and his mother had committed suicide. He was too scared to ask. "Junior, just keep in mind that you need to find your soulmate to survive. Otherwise, you'll die of natural causes when you're old and gray." He squeezed Tony's shoulders reassuringly.
"I'm never going to bite anyone," Tony replied hotly, shaking off his father's hands. "I'd rather die than ever drink another human being's blood!"
His father calmly shook his head. "Another myth," he said gently. "We don't need blood to survive, especially not human blood. We can go without it if we must, though I strongly suggest adding blood to your diet. It doesn't have to be human blood, Junior, it can be from an animal, though it's true that human blood is best for us. I do have connections to a blood bank. You won't ever need to actually bite a human, there are ways for us vampires to buy blood. We have stores specifying in this sort of thing."
Tony looks equal parts appalled and disgusted. "Just tell me how to get rid of these things," he finally managed to press out, pointing at his fangs. "I'm not a vampire, and I won't ever act like one!"
His father sighed again. "You really should use them, now that you finally grew them," he suggested mildly, and held out his wrist. "Just practice, Junior. Bite me, just once, so you know what you're doing." When Tony almost fell on his ass in his frantic attempt to get away from his father, shaking his head in panic, his father sighed again. "Fine. Just remember this: You can live without blood, but you'll feel better when you drink it. It gives you strength and stamina, helps you concentrate, heightens your senses. You are a vampire, Junior. You're part of one of the oldest vampire clans on his planet. You should be proud of your heritage."
"Never!" Tony shouted. "I'm never going to be a vampire. I don't want to have anything to do with you or any of your vampire friends or the rest of the vampire family! Leave me alone, you freak!"
His father's face hardened. "Renouncing your family is a serious sin, Anthony," he said, pulling himself up to his full height.
"If that's the kind of family we're talking about, then I'd rather rot in hell!" was all Tony had to say in reply.
The next morning, he packed his bags and moved into Rhode Island Military Academy.
At least by then he had figured out how to retract his fangs through sheer will.
XxXxX
When Tony was sixteen, he had his first real sexual encounter. Granted, he had gotten to first, second and third base with more than just a handful of girls (and the occasional boy), but he had fallen head over heels for the daughter of his football coach at the Academy.
They were both still young, but it was consensual, and endearing in their awkward fumbling. Until Tony got so aroused that his fangs protruded and he bit Alyssa's neck accidentally. She screamed in surprised pain and pulled back, and Tony realized too late what he had done. Instinctively, he began to lick the two small puncture wounds, and he stared in shocked surprise when they closed and then disappeared completely. Alyssa looked slightly dazed, and when Tony asked her fearfully if she was okay, she blinked at him in confusion and asked, "Sure, why not?" She clearly didn't remember having been bitten.
Tony went back home for the first time since he left for RIMA, in order to discuss this with his father.
"Yes, our saliva has healing powers," his father said, apparently not surprised that Tony had decided to come home over the holidays. "Not a whole lot, so be careful. Still, if you scrape your knee while playing sports, you can lick it and heal the wound. It won't get rid of a stabbing wound though." He chuckled softly at his own joke, then looked curiously at his son. "Speaking of sports, how's it going? You still on the varsity team?"
"Yeah, on both," Tony muttered around his mouthful of dinner. "Football and basketball. I'm doing okay."
What he didn't tell his father was that he had played better than ever after drinking what little of Alyssa's blood had ended up in his mouth. He had felt strangely invigorated, stronger and more agile than ever. His senses had been sharper than ever before, and he had been able to sense where the ball would be thrown. He had led his basketball team to a landslide victory and had been declared MVP.
In addition, Tony felt wide awake and brimming with energy, as if he was on a serious sugar rush. He had aced his mid-terms, even in the subjects he always struggled with. His father had mentioned that drinking blood would help a vampire in many different ways, and for some reason, Tony figured that his improved concentration was one of the ways.
He still swore to himself to never bite a human again, and now that he knew he had to be careful during sex, Tony was sure that he would be on the safe side.
Still, good grades and victories for his teams were more than enticing, and even though Tony tried to give it his best without the additional help of blood, he soon realized that he needed the boost of a bloody drink before important tests or games. He tried biting himself and drinking his own blood, but that didn't have any effect. So, finally, he snuck into the labs and stole a couple of the mice they had there.
The first time Tony bit the mice and drank from them, he actually vomited afterwards; not because of the blood but because the mere thought of killing an animal like that turned his stomach.
The resulting A's and the landslide victory for his football team convinced him that he had done the right thing though.
And so Tony got used to drinking animal blood whenever he felt he needed to. He hated himself for it, but it bought him a scholarship for OSU, and his GPA wasn't half-bad either. He still refused to consider himself a vampire, and he argued to himself that what he did was just a little doping--and his team mates at OSU took a lot of really nasty stuff to survive the almost inhuman training sessions, so his bloody snacks were innocent in comparison. Tony was the star of his team, and he was beginning to dream of turning pro--knowing damn well that he'd never be good enough without the occasional added boost of his very special "energy drink". But Tony didn't care. Things were going great, after all...until the knee injury.
XxXxX
Tony spent most of his senior year in hospitals and rehab. He knew he was never going to be able to play sports again, at least not in a serious way, and so he decided early on to concentrate on finding a job based on his minor in criminology. He had always liked the idea of being a cop, of helping people, of upholding justice. He just hoped that his knee would be strong enough to deal with the physical side of that job.
He knew that he didn't need to drink blood, but for some strange reason, he missed it. Tony compared it to the wonderful buzz he always got from drinking beer. He didn't need alcohol, he wasn't in any way addicted, but he loved a good beer buzz. And he felt the same way about the blood. It wasn't needed, but he missed how it made him feel. He missed the rush, the heightened senses, the sharp focus it always gave him. But Tony knew it wasn't going to help him in his recovery, and he wasn't ever going to need it on the football field or basketball court again. So, instead, he settled for waiting until his finals were coming up; he was going to need the extra boost to get good grades, and he wanted to make sure to finish top of the class in hopes of getting into the police academy right away.
His frat brothers kept visiting him during his recovery, constantly trying to cheer him up. There was really only one topic Tony was interested in, though: talk of the town was the case of Megan Anderson's rape. Everyone knew who had raped her: Chris Long, cousin of one of Tony's frat brothers, and son of one of the state's wealthiest businessmen. Megan, a sophomore at OSU, had been brutally raped and left for dead in a ditch. She had managed to survive, and even found the strength to give testimony in court, but when Chris got off on a technicality, she committed suicide. Tony was devastated when he heard the news, and worse still, Chris kept boasting about his manly prowess afterwards, knowing that he wasn't going to jail once he had been found innocent.
Chris' cousin, Tony's frat brother, was ready to kill him. "I can't believe I'm related to that bastard," he growled during one of his visits. "A lot of us would gladly kill him, but with our luck, we'd get arrested and end up in jail." He glowered, radiating helpless rage.
And that was when Tony had an idea.
Nobody was going to get away with murder--except him. Tony knew, after having discussed things with his father when he was sixteen, how to merely turn someone into a vampire and how to actually kill a human being--in theory. Tony had never felt the need for this knowledge, though his father had insisted on telling him, "just in case". Now he was glad to have this particular ace up his sleeve, and as soon as he was finally discharged and back on campus, he sneaked off to Chris' loft, waited until he was invited in, and then attacked the rapist with bared fangs.
Chris struggled fruitlessly, but didn't stand a chance. As soon as Tony drank the other man's blood, his strength multiplied, and he easily held down his victim, making sure to hold a hand across Chris' mouth to muffle any screams. Tony didn't stop drinking until no more blood was forthcoming. It was only the second time ever that Tony had consumed human blood after the accident with Alyssa, and the sheer amount of liquid made him feel queasy and light-headed. This wasn't the usual light buzz he normally had after snacking on an animal; this was the equivalent of being seriously drunk--or high.
Tony sat back on his haunches, trying to catch his breath. For some insane reason, his jaw was aching, and he rubbed the joints gently, trying to ease the pain, until he realized that he had been sucking on Chris' neck for over half an hour easily. No wonder his jaw was feeling stiff. Tony resisted the urge to laugh hysterically, and instead made himself concentrate on the task at hand.
He had just killed a human being.
No, he told himself, I killed a rapist. A rapist who had gotten off scot-free and who had already threatened to enjoy a repeat performance soon.
Tony got up on wobbly legs and searched for the wooden stake in his backpack. His father had told him that a newly turned vampire could be staked to death, and assured Tony at the same time that an "old" vampire, and especially a "purely bred" vampire like Tony, could not be killed that way. Tony wasn't going to try and find out if he was really safe from be staked, but he fervently hoped that his father had been right about newly turned vampires. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not wanting to see the actual damage he was about to do, and then slammed the stake into Chris' heart.
A few seconds later, the dead body had dissolved into a pile of dust.
Tony stared at it with wide eyes, still somewhat in disbelief that this had actually worked.
Then a slow grin spread across his face. He just had, without a doubt, committed the perfect murder.
But, just to make absolutely sure that the cleaning lady or anyone else wasn't going to suspect any wrongdoing, Tony searched for the vacuum cleaner and then matter-of-factly vacuumed the pile of dust away until not a single speck of Chris Long was left.
Tony graduated from the police academy with flying colors--and without the help of blood. He was smart and he was physically fit, and he aced pretty much every single test. Tony was beyond proud of himself, and he couldn't wait to start his first job as police officer.
Peoria was, compared to the big cities Tony was used to, a quaint little town. Things went well for Tony at first; he was immediately well liked and made friends, and his chief was pleased with the eager and talented young police officer who had joined the force.
There didn't even seem to be any major crimes that needed to be investigated, and Tony spent most of his time on the beat. It was downright exciting when they had to deal with a case of assault or robbery. Tony liked this the most about Peoria; the crime rate wasn't even close to the rates in most big cities.
Until the day they found the horrifically mutilated dead body of a young woman. It took homicide a couple of months of hard work, as well as another couple of just as mutilated dead bodies, but they finally found the killer. They built the perfect case against the man--but his wife, who was clearly the killer's regular punching bag and who looked cowed and downright scared out of her mind throughout her testimony, gave him an alibi. Everyone knew that she was lying, but nobody could prove it.
And so, the killer walked free.
And Tony remembered Chris Long, and he remembered that sometimes, upholding justice meant breaking the law. His method might be legally wrong, but as far as Tony was concerned, it was morally right.
A couple of nights later, Tony killed for the second time. And he felt good afterwards.
After that, he began to snoop around cold cases. Over the next two years, he took care of four more perps. Tony always made absolutely sure that they were guilty, and he only went after the really bad guys: rapists, murderers, child molesters.
Still, Peoria was too small a town, and Tony's chief became suspicious after known offenders suddenly disappeared. Nobody was in any way sad to see them gone, but it still caused some unusual questions, and even though nobody suspected Tony, he decided it was time to move on.
XxXxX
Philadelphia was definitely bigger, and the crimes were worse and manifold in the City of Brotherly Love.
Tony took to the bad guys like a duck to water. Only this time, he was more careful, and he made sure not to cause any kind of suspicion amongst his fellow cops while he "took care" of things. He found a multitude of perps who were clearly guiltier than hell but had gotten off due to a variety of reasons, and Tony saved the life of several people, potential victims, by killing a handful of bad guys.
The only thing he still had trouble getting used to was the high he was riding after feeding on human blood. Tony stayed awake for several days, sometimes even an entire week. That, in addition to his heightened senses and sharper focus, helped him perform even better in his regular day job, and his new chief was just as impressed with Tony as his previous one.
Tony loved his job, and he swore to himself to not screw up his stint in Philadelphia by doing anything suspicious...until he saw a known child molester trying to kidnap a young boy in a park.
Tony immediately intervened, making sure the five-year-old was safely brought back to his mother, who was already frantically searching for her son, and then he followed the perp home. He could have easily arrested the man, but Tony was off hours and so wasn't wearing his uniform, and nobody suspected that he was actually a cop. He was sure that he would manage to sneak into the man's apartment and kill him without anyone really noticing. It was at least the better alternative to hauling the man down to the nearest precinct, only to have to release him again after a few hours. No, Tony decided, he was going to take matters into his own hands once and for all, as far as this pervert was concerned.
Unfortunately, Tony wasn't really prepared to "take care" of the man. When he usually went to kill someone, he had his backpack with him. He needed his gloves, his stake, and--just to be on the safe side--his trusted dustbuster. Tony knew it was insanely ridiculous that he usually vacuumed the remnants of his victims away, but it was always better to not leave any evidence. This time, however, he had to improvise.
And he made a mistake.
It was no problem overpowering the perp and literally sucking the life out of him. Tony even found something to use as substitute for his stake--a wooden spoon--and then used dustpan and brush to toss the pile of dust into the trash, finally trying his best to wipe any and all fingerprints clean. Nobody should miss the perp, who lived alone, had no job and no contact to any of his neighbors.
Unfortunately, the young boy's mother had reported the incident in the meantime, and the police recognized the known child molester from the mother's description, and so the man's apartment was checked out. They didn't find the perp, but they did find unusual traces of a struggle, and so they began to dust for fingerprints and look for evidence of any wrong doing.
Luckily for Tony, they didn't find any incriminating evidence against him. Since none of the police officers were sad to see the perp disappear into thin air, they didn't really put any serious effort into finding the missing man, but Tony realized that this had been too close for comfort, and he didn't like the way some of his colleagues looked at him. The mother had also described him while she made her report, even though she didn't know that he was a police officer, and Tony felt as if his colleagues at least seemed to think that he had something to do with the sudden disappearance of their perp.
Tony left Philly soon after and moved to Baltimore.
XxXxX
(on to part 2)
Author: Gaby
Written for:
spoonyriffic Prompt: Tony/Gibbs - Tony is hiding something from Gibbs, but even Gibbs can't weasel it out of him. Can be either serious or humorous, or a little of both: what exactly Tony is hiding is totally up to you. Either way, a happy ending would be much appreciated. Any rating, PG-13 - NC-17 preferred.
Author's Notes: I highly doubt this is even close to what Spoony had in mind, but the Muses made me write it. *g* Also, please note that I pretty much disregard any and all vampire lore and created my own. Why? Because I can! LOL! So, while I don't claim to be in any way creative or imaginative, I did come up with my very own vampire lore. Please keep that in mind if you're a hardcore vampire fan. You're perfectly entitled to look down your nose at me for screwing around with the common knowledge of all things vampire, but I'd prefer it if you kept your crit to yourself. You've been warned, after all. :-)
Thank you to
taylorgibbs for the beta! Any remaining oopsies are mine and mine alone, and y'all can't have them!Warnings: Beware! Here be vampires! That means there's blood in this fic. In addition, potentially disturbing imagery ahead: Some dead OCs, and very general mention of (off-screen) rape, murder and child abuse. Oh yeah, and Gibbs gets whumped.
Archive: I'll do it myself.
Genre: pre-slash
Pairings: Gibbs/Tony
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, never will be, gosh darn it!
Word Count: a little over 11,000
Summary: Gibbs always knew there was something special about the young detective he once hired. He just never imagined it would be Tony's more than unusual heritage.
When Tony was five years old, his father came to him to have "a serious talk". Tony figured it was about the birds and the bees, which he thought was funny because he already knew everything there was to know. His best friend Nicky Cardoso's older brother, Joey, was already nine and had shown Tony and Nicky magazines with naked women. He had also told the younger boys all the important stuff about sex, like the fact that you should never kiss a girl longer than ten seconds, or you'd get her pregnant. Tony still didn't really understand that part. Why would anyone want to kiss a girl, much less for such a long time? No, he was pretty sure he'd never end up getting a girl pregnant.
So Tony wasn't really listening closely when his father began to pace up and down in front of him, rambling about "being special" and "family tradition" and..."vampires"? Tony, who was sitting on the floor and playing with his G.I. Joe doll, blinked and looked up at that, but then decided that he must have heard wrong. His father was too pre-occupied to realize that the little boy hadn't even listened closely; instead, he continued to pace and lecture, as if he was in the middle of an important business meeting and trying to impress potential investors.
Tony shook his head and went back to his G.I. Joe. Vampires. He really must have heard wrong. Tony knew what vampires were, and they only existed in horror stories. They weren't real. They were just some figment of frightened people's imagination. But Tony was a big, brave boy. He wasn't scared of anything!
After a good ten minutes, his father stopped in mid-sentence and stared at Tony, who was still obviously not listening. This changed when the boy was suddenly pulled to his feet and a sharp swat landed on his jeans-covered behind. "This is important, Junior!" Tony's father yelled, and he looked genuinely upset that the boy hadn't paid any attention. "Did you listen to a word I had to say?"
Tony bit his lip and hesitantly reached behind him to rub his smarting butt. "Yes, Daddy," he said dutifully. It was always best not to anger his father when he was in such a serious mood. When his father continued to look unconvinced, Tony ventured, "Vampires." He nodded solemnly, trying to convey that he had, in fact, listened very closely.
Apparently, this was the magic word, because his father nodded and let go of Tony's arm. The boy plopped down on his butt again and grabbed his G.I. Joe, looking a bit unsure now himself. Maybe he had not heard wrong after all, and vampires did exist. His father was a very smart man, after all. If his father said that there were vampires, then there very probably were vampires. Tony looked nervously into the dark corners of his room, his eyes tracking the dancing shadows on the wall. He knew that vampires lived in the dark and only came out at night, and when they stood in front of you, it was a Very Bad Thing because they would bite you and suck out your blood and turn you into a vampire as well if they didn't outright kill you!
Tony's father sighed softly and then smiled at his son. "I'm glad we had this talk," he said, patting his son on the head. "Your mother said you were still too young to understand, but I knew that my boy was smart enough. Glad to see you proved me right, Junior." He looked downright relieved, as if he had made a huge confession. "Well, carry on then. See you at dinner later, Junior." And without another word, he was gone.
Tony stared at the door his father had just closed behind him. Then he slowly turned his head around, his eyes growing larger and larger, his heart beating faster and faster. He continued to try to convince himself that he must have misunderstood his father, that he must have heard wrong, that vampires plain didn't exist.
But then his eyes locked on the canopy above his bed--and he knew that this was where the vampires were hiding.
From that day on, Tony slept curled up in a tight ball in his closet.
XxXxX
When Tony was eight, his mother died.
Tony didn't know what had happened, and nobody really took the time to talk to him. All he heard was "delicate condition" and "fragile disposition". Tony had no idea what that meant. All he knew was that his mommy was gone, and the only person mourning more than Tony was his father, who was absolutely inconsolable.
It took Tony a few days to come to terms with the fact that his mother was truly gone, but then his over-active imagination kicked in, and he began to figure out what had happened to her.
The vampires had killed her! It must have been the vampires! His father had warned him about them years ago, and Tony had been careful not to be caught, but maybe his mother had gotten careless and so a vampire had caught her and killed her! Granted, Tony had never actually seen a vampire, even after his father had mentioned them, but that didn't mean that they didn't exist, did it? And it was the only logical explanation.
Tony berated himself for not having listened to his father more closely all those years ago. But then again, he told himself, back then he had been nothing but a little boy. Now he was a big boy, and he knew what was really important, and listening to one's father was one of the Really Important Things. Tony decided to ask his father about the vampires, figuring that this way he would find out if he was right about how his mother had died. He knew that his father would probably be a little mad at first, because Tony would have to admit that he hadn't really listened closely when they had had The Talk. But Tony decided it was well worth the risk of a stern lecture or even a swat or two, as long as he finally found out what had happened to his mother. Unfortunately, his father was too grief-stricken and had no time or energy to deal with an anxious, scared, slightly hysterical boy.
And so Tony didn't find out why his mother was dead, and he managed to convince himself that it was truly the vampire's fault. He did, at least, insist on finally getting rid of the canopy bed.
XxXxX
When Tony was twelve, he had his first real wet dream.
He woke up, disoriented and confused, wondering for a long moment why his boxer shorts were stuck to his groin and especially why he was lying in a wet spot. For one long moment, he freaked at the thought of actually having wetted his bed, but then he realized that he had had his first real orgasm instead.
Once his brain was finally awake as well, he suddenly also realized that he had a very strange need, an urge he didn't recognize and couldn't quite explain. He just wanted...something, and it made him desperate and agitated, and his blood seemed to burn in his veins.
Tony bit his lip, trying to figure out what was wrong with him, and then yelped softly at the unexpected sharpness of the pain. He frowned, then quickly got out of bed, feeling flushed, feverish somehow, and rushed over to his closet. He opened one of the doors to look in the full-length mirror that was inside. The moonlight shining through the window was bright enough to let him see his face, and even though his eyes clearly saw the pearly white fangs protruding over his lower lip, his brain refused to acknowledge what it meant. Tony merely stared at his reflection, watched his tongue carefully darting out to lick the unusually shaped teeth, stared in complete disbelief at the droplets of bright red blood that were hanging on his lower lip from where he had accidentally bitten himself. But only when he reached up and tried to pull off what he convinced himself to be fake vampire teeth, and the fangs refused to budge, did Tony finally realize that something was really, seriously, utterly wrong with him.
And Tony screamed.
A few seconds later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and his father barged in, looking worried. "Junior? What's wrong?"
Tony shrank back in shock, not wanting to be seen with...with these things in his mouth. He pressed himself against his closet, and then slapped his hands in front of his mouth when his father turned on the light to see him better.
"Junior?" His father blinked, then raised his eyebrows in surprise at his son's behavior. He looked around, taking in everything, and then--beamed. "Junior!" he exclaimed happily. "You finally fledged!"
Tony almost dropped his hands, not to mention his jaw, but stopped himself just in time. "I...what?!" he muttered behind his hands.
"You fledged!" His father grinned broadly, his eyes dropping to the wet spot on Tony's boxers, then on the wet spot in the bed. He nodded knowingly. "I was beginning to worry. You're a real late bloomer, Junior. But now you're finally a fully fledged vampire. The fledging usually coincides with...well, the first obvious signs of puberty." He smiled knowingly while his eyes went back to Tony's boxers.
Tony blushed so much his face hurt. He couldn't believe his father was talking about his first real wet dream like that. And what the hell did that mean? Vampire!
"Come on, son, show me your pretty little fangs. I can't wait to see them for the first time!" His father advanced, looking eager.
Tony shrank back even more. "Dunno what you're talking about," he mumbled behind his hands. His father raised a knowing eyebrow and nodded meaningfully at the hands. Tony dropped them, then muttered defiantly, "Still dunno what you mean," while he tried his best to keep his lips from moving and revealing his fangs.
His father sighed and shook his head. "Stop acting so silly, Junior. Every vampire is proud of his fangs. Now show me what you've got."
Tony's mind was reeling. There his father went again, talking about vampires. But then again, he did have fangs, he could clearly feel them, the pointy ends were gently but insistently digging into his lower lip. He didn't know what any of this meant, and he definitely had no clue what was going on with him. He was only sure of one thing, and so he finally just blurted out hysterically, "I wanna get rid of these things!"
His father shrugged. "Then retract them." He cocked his head, then smiled indulgently. "But why would you want to get rid of them, Junior? Aren't you proud of having finally fledged?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Tony exclaimed frantically, fighting tears of frustration. He felt completely out of control. "And what do you mean, retract?" He didn't even care that his father was now able to see the horrible abominations growing out of his mouth.
His father sighed and held up his hands in a placating manner. He realized that his son, for whatever reason, seemed less than happy to have finally become a fully fledged vampire. He would get to the bottom of this sooner or later, but for now, he needed to calm his son down. "It's quite easy, Junior," he said softly. "Just watch. See?" He pulled his upper lip out of the way with his fingers, then extended his own fangs. A couple of seconds later, he retracted them again. "All you have to do is...decide to do it." He shrugged a little, not sure how better to explain.
But Tony was too busy staring at his father in shock anyway. He blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his vision. He had most certainly not just seen his father turning into a vampire!
His father calmly repeated the process, showing Tony what he was supposed to do. "You have beautiful fangs, Junior, there's no reason why you would want to retract them right away. Don't you want to try them out first?"
"Try them out?" Tony shrieked, convinced that he had most definitely fallen down the rabbit hole. This could not be happening.
His father began to realize that something was definitely wrong. "Junior?" he asked softly. "Don't you remember our talk?"
"Talk? What talk?" Tony whispered, beginning to hyperventilate in panic.
"A few years ago, when I told you about our family. About what's so special about us." He reached out and gently stroked his son's tear-streaked face. "Junior, now that you finally showed your fangs for the first time, you're a fully fledged vampire."
Tony shook his head in frantic denial. He had no idea what his father was talking about. Did he mean the strange monologue all those years ago, when Tony was five and hadn't really listened? The unusual talk that also mentioned vampires? The talk that caused Tony to be convinced a vampire was living in the canopy of his bed? All of that had actually been about him going to be a vampire one day?
"I can't be a vampire!" he finally just exclaimed frantically. "I'm outside all the time, playing sports in the sun! And...and I love garlic!"
His father chuckled indulgently. "Whatever you might have heard about vampires in the past is wrong, Junior. None of those movies you're so fond of portrays us the way we really are." He placed a reassuring hand on Tony's shoulder, squeezing softly.
"Vampires don't exist," Tony argued feebly, trying his best to ignore the fangs that were still pricking his lower lip.
"Of course we do," his father replied with a laugh. "Look, Junior, it's all quite simple. We're not all that different from normal humans."
Tony gave a short bark of laughter. "Right. Except that vampires are undead and like to suck blood."
"We're not undead," his father replied calmly. "At least not technically." At his son's disbelieving snort, he held out his arm. "Touch me, Junior. Am I cold? Do you feel a pulse?"
Tony hesitantly reached out. He couldn't remember a time when he actually thought his father felt...well, cold. If it was true and his father was a vampire, then he should be cold and clammy, like they always said vampires were, but his father had always felt safe and warm when Tony had been little and cuddled in his father's lap. Tony wrapped his hand around his father's wrist. The skin was warm, and there was a definite pulse beating. "That's only proof you're not a vampire!"
His father sighed. "No, son, it means that humans just don't get us. Look, we live a regular life. We can be out in the sun, we can eat garlic, we don't cringe away in pain when we see holy crosses. DiNozzos wouldn't be church-goers otherwise, now would we?"
Tony frowned at that. He was half-Italian and half-English, but his father had always insisted on a strictly Catholic upbringing. Going to church was a weekly ritual. No typical vampire would have survived that. Tony frowned again, suddenly wondering about something else. "If I'm a vampire, how come I keep growing older? Aren't vampires supposed to, well, not age?"
"Ah." His father nodded knowingly, glad to see that Tony was beginning to accept at least the possibility of the DiNozzos being vampires. "Well, as I already said, forget everything you've ever heard or read about vampires, Junior. We do get a kick out of what humans come up with about us, but none of it is really true." He chuckled, then grew serious. "See, there are two ways of becoming a vampire. You're born into one of the old clans, like you, or you're turned into a vampire, like your mother."
Tony gave a strangled cry at that. "You bit Mom and made a vampire out of her?!" he exclaimed in shock. "But she died! Vampires aren't supposed to die!"
His father shook his head and held his hands up placatingly. "Listen to me, Junior. Vampires can die. For one thing, they can be killed, be it by hunters or other vampires. For another, since we're not undead but actually alive, there are ways for a vampire to, well, just die. Not as easily as a human, but yes, it's possible." He shrugged, and his face clearly showed the pain of loss. He still mourned for his wife, even after all those years. "You will continue to grow up and grow older, and you will die a natural death sometime in future unless you find your one true soulmate. Only when you bond with your soulmate, will you stop aging and become...well, not immortal, but a hell of a lot harder to kill off."
"I...do not understand." Tony began to hyperventilate. None of this made sense, and he felt his brain close to exploding.
His father smiled indulgently. "I'm actually close to a hundred years old, Junior. I met your mother when I was about sixty. I had given up on finding my soulmate until I saw her. I courted her for a long time, then I explained to her what I was. She agreed to be bitten by me. Her blood was what I needed to be complete. We bonded. I stopped aging, and I became stronger. Her blood was like a protective shield for me, Junior. At the same time, I turned her into a vampire. She was never as strong as I am because she wasn't a born vampire, but she was, for all intents and purposes, a vampire just like me or you." He smiled sadly, remembering his beloved wife. "Vampires can change their appearance, we can make ourselves look older to avoid suspicion, if that's what you're wondering about."
"I'm more wondering about why my mother is dead even though she was supposed to be an immortal vampire," Tony muttered.
"As I said, vampires also die," his father replied gently. "We can be killed in a few specific ways. We can die of a very few natural causes. We can also kill ourselves if we know how." He looked crushed and guilty at the same time, and Tony wondered for the first time if the rumors were true and his mother had committed suicide. He was too scared to ask. "Junior, just keep in mind that you need to find your soulmate to survive. Otherwise, you'll die of natural causes when you're old and gray." He squeezed Tony's shoulders reassuringly.
"I'm never going to bite anyone," Tony replied hotly, shaking off his father's hands. "I'd rather die than ever drink another human being's blood!"
His father calmly shook his head. "Another myth," he said gently. "We don't need blood to survive, especially not human blood. We can go without it if we must, though I strongly suggest adding blood to your diet. It doesn't have to be human blood, Junior, it can be from an animal, though it's true that human blood is best for us. I do have connections to a blood bank. You won't ever need to actually bite a human, there are ways for us vampires to buy blood. We have stores specifying in this sort of thing."
Tony looks equal parts appalled and disgusted. "Just tell me how to get rid of these things," he finally managed to press out, pointing at his fangs. "I'm not a vampire, and I won't ever act like one!"
His father sighed again. "You really should use them, now that you finally grew them," he suggested mildly, and held out his wrist. "Just practice, Junior. Bite me, just once, so you know what you're doing." When Tony almost fell on his ass in his frantic attempt to get away from his father, shaking his head in panic, his father sighed again. "Fine. Just remember this: You can live without blood, but you'll feel better when you drink it. It gives you strength and stamina, helps you concentrate, heightens your senses. You are a vampire, Junior. You're part of one of the oldest vampire clans on his planet. You should be proud of your heritage."
"Never!" Tony shouted. "I'm never going to be a vampire. I don't want to have anything to do with you or any of your vampire friends or the rest of the vampire family! Leave me alone, you freak!"
His father's face hardened. "Renouncing your family is a serious sin, Anthony," he said, pulling himself up to his full height.
"If that's the kind of family we're talking about, then I'd rather rot in hell!" was all Tony had to say in reply.
The next morning, he packed his bags and moved into Rhode Island Military Academy.
At least by then he had figured out how to retract his fangs through sheer will.
XxXxX
When Tony was sixteen, he had his first real sexual encounter. Granted, he had gotten to first, second and third base with more than just a handful of girls (and the occasional boy), but he had fallen head over heels for the daughter of his football coach at the Academy.
They were both still young, but it was consensual, and endearing in their awkward fumbling. Until Tony got so aroused that his fangs protruded and he bit Alyssa's neck accidentally. She screamed in surprised pain and pulled back, and Tony realized too late what he had done. Instinctively, he began to lick the two small puncture wounds, and he stared in shocked surprise when they closed and then disappeared completely. Alyssa looked slightly dazed, and when Tony asked her fearfully if she was okay, she blinked at him in confusion and asked, "Sure, why not?" She clearly didn't remember having been bitten.
Tony went back home for the first time since he left for RIMA, in order to discuss this with his father.
"Yes, our saliva has healing powers," his father said, apparently not surprised that Tony had decided to come home over the holidays. "Not a whole lot, so be careful. Still, if you scrape your knee while playing sports, you can lick it and heal the wound. It won't get rid of a stabbing wound though." He chuckled softly at his own joke, then looked curiously at his son. "Speaking of sports, how's it going? You still on the varsity team?"
"Yeah, on both," Tony muttered around his mouthful of dinner. "Football and basketball. I'm doing okay."
What he didn't tell his father was that he had played better than ever after drinking what little of Alyssa's blood had ended up in his mouth. He had felt strangely invigorated, stronger and more agile than ever. His senses had been sharper than ever before, and he had been able to sense where the ball would be thrown. He had led his basketball team to a landslide victory and had been declared MVP.
In addition, Tony felt wide awake and brimming with energy, as if he was on a serious sugar rush. He had aced his mid-terms, even in the subjects he always struggled with. His father had mentioned that drinking blood would help a vampire in many different ways, and for some reason, Tony figured that his improved concentration was one of the ways.
He still swore to himself to never bite a human again, and now that he knew he had to be careful during sex, Tony was sure that he would be on the safe side.
Still, good grades and victories for his teams were more than enticing, and even though Tony tried to give it his best without the additional help of blood, he soon realized that he needed the boost of a bloody drink before important tests or games. He tried biting himself and drinking his own blood, but that didn't have any effect. So, finally, he snuck into the labs and stole a couple of the mice they had there.
The first time Tony bit the mice and drank from them, he actually vomited afterwards; not because of the blood but because the mere thought of killing an animal like that turned his stomach.
The resulting A's and the landslide victory for his football team convinced him that he had done the right thing though.
And so Tony got used to drinking animal blood whenever he felt he needed to. He hated himself for it, but it bought him a scholarship for OSU, and his GPA wasn't half-bad either. He still refused to consider himself a vampire, and he argued to himself that what he did was just a little doping--and his team mates at OSU took a lot of really nasty stuff to survive the almost inhuman training sessions, so his bloody snacks were innocent in comparison. Tony was the star of his team, and he was beginning to dream of turning pro--knowing damn well that he'd never be good enough without the occasional added boost of his very special "energy drink". But Tony didn't care. Things were going great, after all...until the knee injury.
XxXxX
Tony spent most of his senior year in hospitals and rehab. He knew he was never going to be able to play sports again, at least not in a serious way, and so he decided early on to concentrate on finding a job based on his minor in criminology. He had always liked the idea of being a cop, of helping people, of upholding justice. He just hoped that his knee would be strong enough to deal with the physical side of that job.
He knew that he didn't need to drink blood, but for some strange reason, he missed it. Tony compared it to the wonderful buzz he always got from drinking beer. He didn't need alcohol, he wasn't in any way addicted, but he loved a good beer buzz. And he felt the same way about the blood. It wasn't needed, but he missed how it made him feel. He missed the rush, the heightened senses, the sharp focus it always gave him. But Tony knew it wasn't going to help him in his recovery, and he wasn't ever going to need it on the football field or basketball court again. So, instead, he settled for waiting until his finals were coming up; he was going to need the extra boost to get good grades, and he wanted to make sure to finish top of the class in hopes of getting into the police academy right away.
His frat brothers kept visiting him during his recovery, constantly trying to cheer him up. There was really only one topic Tony was interested in, though: talk of the town was the case of Megan Anderson's rape. Everyone knew who had raped her: Chris Long, cousin of one of Tony's frat brothers, and son of one of the state's wealthiest businessmen. Megan, a sophomore at OSU, had been brutally raped and left for dead in a ditch. She had managed to survive, and even found the strength to give testimony in court, but when Chris got off on a technicality, she committed suicide. Tony was devastated when he heard the news, and worse still, Chris kept boasting about his manly prowess afterwards, knowing that he wasn't going to jail once he had been found innocent.
Chris' cousin, Tony's frat brother, was ready to kill him. "I can't believe I'm related to that bastard," he growled during one of his visits. "A lot of us would gladly kill him, but with our luck, we'd get arrested and end up in jail." He glowered, radiating helpless rage.
And that was when Tony had an idea.
Nobody was going to get away with murder--except him. Tony knew, after having discussed things with his father when he was sixteen, how to merely turn someone into a vampire and how to actually kill a human being--in theory. Tony had never felt the need for this knowledge, though his father had insisted on telling him, "just in case". Now he was glad to have this particular ace up his sleeve, and as soon as he was finally discharged and back on campus, he sneaked off to Chris' loft, waited until he was invited in, and then attacked the rapist with bared fangs.
Chris struggled fruitlessly, but didn't stand a chance. As soon as Tony drank the other man's blood, his strength multiplied, and he easily held down his victim, making sure to hold a hand across Chris' mouth to muffle any screams. Tony didn't stop drinking until no more blood was forthcoming. It was only the second time ever that Tony had consumed human blood after the accident with Alyssa, and the sheer amount of liquid made him feel queasy and light-headed. This wasn't the usual light buzz he normally had after snacking on an animal; this was the equivalent of being seriously drunk--or high.
Tony sat back on his haunches, trying to catch his breath. For some insane reason, his jaw was aching, and he rubbed the joints gently, trying to ease the pain, until he realized that he had been sucking on Chris' neck for over half an hour easily. No wonder his jaw was feeling stiff. Tony resisted the urge to laugh hysterically, and instead made himself concentrate on the task at hand.
He had just killed a human being.
No, he told himself, I killed a rapist. A rapist who had gotten off scot-free and who had already threatened to enjoy a repeat performance soon.
Tony got up on wobbly legs and searched for the wooden stake in his backpack. His father had told him that a newly turned vampire could be staked to death, and assured Tony at the same time that an "old" vampire, and especially a "purely bred" vampire like Tony, could not be killed that way. Tony wasn't going to try and find out if he was really safe from be staked, but he fervently hoped that his father had been right about newly turned vampires. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not wanting to see the actual damage he was about to do, and then slammed the stake into Chris' heart.
A few seconds later, the dead body had dissolved into a pile of dust.
Tony stared at it with wide eyes, still somewhat in disbelief that this had actually worked.
Then a slow grin spread across his face. He just had, without a doubt, committed the perfect murder.
But, just to make absolutely sure that the cleaning lady or anyone else wasn't going to suspect any wrongdoing, Tony searched for the vacuum cleaner and then matter-of-factly vacuumed the pile of dust away until not a single speck of Chris Long was left.
XxXxX
Tony graduated from the police academy with flying colors--and without the help of blood. He was smart and he was physically fit, and he aced pretty much every single test. Tony was beyond proud of himself, and he couldn't wait to start his first job as police officer.
Peoria was, compared to the big cities Tony was used to, a quaint little town. Things went well for Tony at first; he was immediately well liked and made friends, and his chief was pleased with the eager and talented young police officer who had joined the force.
There didn't even seem to be any major crimes that needed to be investigated, and Tony spent most of his time on the beat. It was downright exciting when they had to deal with a case of assault or robbery. Tony liked this the most about Peoria; the crime rate wasn't even close to the rates in most big cities.
Until the day they found the horrifically mutilated dead body of a young woman. It took homicide a couple of months of hard work, as well as another couple of just as mutilated dead bodies, but they finally found the killer. They built the perfect case against the man--but his wife, who was clearly the killer's regular punching bag and who looked cowed and downright scared out of her mind throughout her testimony, gave him an alibi. Everyone knew that she was lying, but nobody could prove it.
And so, the killer walked free.
And Tony remembered Chris Long, and he remembered that sometimes, upholding justice meant breaking the law. His method might be legally wrong, but as far as Tony was concerned, it was morally right.
A couple of nights later, Tony killed for the second time. And he felt good afterwards.
After that, he began to snoop around cold cases. Over the next two years, he took care of four more perps. Tony always made absolutely sure that they were guilty, and he only went after the really bad guys: rapists, murderers, child molesters.
Still, Peoria was too small a town, and Tony's chief became suspicious after known offenders suddenly disappeared. Nobody was in any way sad to see them gone, but it still caused some unusual questions, and even though nobody suspected Tony, he decided it was time to move on.
XxXxX
Philadelphia was definitely bigger, and the crimes were worse and manifold in the City of Brotherly Love.
Tony took to the bad guys like a duck to water. Only this time, he was more careful, and he made sure not to cause any kind of suspicion amongst his fellow cops while he "took care" of things. He found a multitude of perps who were clearly guiltier than hell but had gotten off due to a variety of reasons, and Tony saved the life of several people, potential victims, by killing a handful of bad guys.
The only thing he still had trouble getting used to was the high he was riding after feeding on human blood. Tony stayed awake for several days, sometimes even an entire week. That, in addition to his heightened senses and sharper focus, helped him perform even better in his regular day job, and his new chief was just as impressed with Tony as his previous one.
Tony loved his job, and he swore to himself to not screw up his stint in Philadelphia by doing anything suspicious...until he saw a known child molester trying to kidnap a young boy in a park.
Tony immediately intervened, making sure the five-year-old was safely brought back to his mother, who was already frantically searching for her son, and then he followed the perp home. He could have easily arrested the man, but Tony was off hours and so wasn't wearing his uniform, and nobody suspected that he was actually a cop. He was sure that he would manage to sneak into the man's apartment and kill him without anyone really noticing. It was at least the better alternative to hauling the man down to the nearest precinct, only to have to release him again after a few hours. No, Tony decided, he was going to take matters into his own hands once and for all, as far as this pervert was concerned.
Unfortunately, Tony wasn't really prepared to "take care" of the man. When he usually went to kill someone, he had his backpack with him. He needed his gloves, his stake, and--just to be on the safe side--his trusted dustbuster. Tony knew it was insanely ridiculous that he usually vacuumed the remnants of his victims away, but it was always better to not leave any evidence. This time, however, he had to improvise.
And he made a mistake.
It was no problem overpowering the perp and literally sucking the life out of him. Tony even found something to use as substitute for his stake--a wooden spoon--and then used dustpan and brush to toss the pile of dust into the trash, finally trying his best to wipe any and all fingerprints clean. Nobody should miss the perp, who lived alone, had no job and no contact to any of his neighbors.
Unfortunately, the young boy's mother had reported the incident in the meantime, and the police recognized the known child molester from the mother's description, and so the man's apartment was checked out. They didn't find the perp, but they did find unusual traces of a struggle, and so they began to dust for fingerprints and look for evidence of any wrong doing.
Luckily for Tony, they didn't find any incriminating evidence against him. Since none of the police officers were sad to see the perp disappear into thin air, they didn't really put any serious effort into finding the missing man, but Tony realized that this had been too close for comfort, and he didn't like the way some of his colleagues looked at him. The mother had also described him while she made her report, even though she didn't know that he was a police officer, and Tony felt as if his colleagues at least seemed to think that he had something to do with the sudden disappearance of their perp.
Tony left Philly soon after and moved to Baltimore.
XxXxX
(on to part 2)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-08-21 01:36 am (UTC)Me likes it so far. Now on to part 2!
no subject
Date: 2010-08-21 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-22 11:36 am (UTC)(And I really wish I had a vamp icon! LOL!)
no subject
Date: 2010-08-22 11:37 am (UTC)I've never thought I'd write a vamp fic. Not that I don't enjoy reading them, but it always boggled my mind how authors could just ignore canon!Tony being scared of vampires, so I'm rather pleased that I found a good way to explain it. *strikes pose*