"Your house is safe." Clover gives a sad smile, holding her hands together in front of her chest. "We're suspecting it was just a lone hunter, since we haven't found any reports of this location anywhere. It looks like he was prideful, and wanted to keep the prize for himself."
She gestures to Ezra, seeing his dull red eyes. One arm holds across his aching stomach, feet burning and aching in his socks even as he sits. Leon stands beside him with his hand on his shoulder, as if he loses contact he'll disappear.
"Would it be too much to ask if he can stay the night with us?" Josh asks, standing on the other side of Ezra. He doesn't touch him, seeming put off by the blisters risen on his skin. "We'll take care of him, I just think it'd make us all feel better collectively."
Clover stifles a frown, wringing her hands. "I guess since no one's life is in danger," she says, "I can't force him to come back with us; it'd be his decision. Of course, he'd be responsible for staying out of site and away from police."
Ezra raises his hand halfway into the air, swallowing hard against his dry throat as everyone looks over. "I'll stay," he says roughly, voice sounding as if it's scratching against the inside of his chest. "I want to be here in case anything else h-happens."
Leon's hand tightens gently on his shoulder, just enough to draw Ezra's eyes up to see the worried look on his face. He had seen Ezra bloody, but not to the point of wavering pain and unhealing blisters.
"You do recognize that he must feed, correct?" Clover asks, speaking to Josh. "With the severity of the wounds I'm afraid sanguisberry won't be enough to both heal his body and fight down natural urges."
Josh shifts his eyes, looking down at the vampire. Ezra looks up, eyes hidden behind his cracked glasses. "I'm not an animal," he says, holding his eyes to the father's, "I have self control."
"That is very true," Amelia says, stepping through the doorway that leads upstairs. She smiles and dips her head politely before pulling it back up, holding her hands behind her back.
"Even the first day we retrieved him," she says, joining the group. "After a month of training with his conductor and having to heal without feeding, he still resisted his instinctive urges after being offered nourishment at our location. I have no worries about him being a dangerous, whether he heals here or not."
The room falls silent, Ezra feeling the tension of the obvious question.
"Injuries of this severity must be addressed in the, warmest way possible, so to say." Clover tilts her head. "A stored blood bag won't work- the plastic and settle of the blood could potentially be dangerous since his body is in a distressed state. It will absorb whatever it takes in, whether it's good or bad."
"If you wish for him to heal here," Amelia says, voice calm as Ezra tilts his head down to avoid everyone's eyes, "it would mean a volunteer would need to step forward. I'm sure you understand why?"
Leon hesitantly puts his hand up, immediately shushing his father before he can protest. "It's fine," he says sternly, still sounding somewhat small, "I trust his self control, plus I think it'd be the most comfortable for everyone."
"Sir," Ezra says, tilting his face up with a sly but pained grin, "I mean no offense because I know it does the body good, but ingesting the amount of garlic in your bloodstream would kill me. I know it's what you were thinking, but I could smell it on you from the moment I met you. I figured mentioning it then would be rude."
"Oh, yes," Amelia says, holding up her hands, "I understand the parental protection, but Ezra's right. If it makes you feel better about the decision, I can charm the collar your son wears to protect him from any danger associated with being used in such a way. Again, I have no worry of anyone being put in danger, but if it makes you feel better."
Josh's lips press into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed down. It's clear he doesn't want any of it, but understands if he wants Ezra to stay it's what has to happen.
"Fine," he says curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do whatever you want."
-:*:-
"You put a lot of trust in me."
Leon looks down, rolling the collar between his fingers. His hands tremble nervously as he remembers what Amelia told him.
"As long as the lock is closed and touching you directly, the charm will hold. Only if it's on your body somewhere will it work."
"I know you won't hurt me," Leon says, feeling the collar of his shirt being pulled to the side. His eyes shifts away. It was like when he was little, convinced that if he didn't look at the doctor or the needle, the shot wouldn't hurt as much. Maybe fangs are the same way.
Ezra smooths his fingers over his skin, settling on a hot spot. Leon's quick heart pulses under his fingers, making his damaged skin seem to flare in discomfort even more. He won't heal until he gets something living in his system.
"You haven't known me all that long," Ezra says, kneeling behind Leon on the family's guest bed. They had travelled back upstairs, avoiding the holy water that covers Leon's bedroom by sitting in the furnished spare room. "I'm surprised your father didn't chase after us."
"I-I think he knew he wasn't the one making the decision," Leon says quietly, listening to the movement behind him. Ezra's arm wraps around his chest, holding him in place his free hand grips his chin and tilts it to the side. "I don't think he wanted to watch."
"I would have gotten too nervous with him spectating anyway," Ezra comments, close presence making Leon anxious, "which isn't a great emotion to have while biting someone, you know?"
Leon flinches away as Ezra's nose bumps his neck, the warmth of his body soothing the vampire's trembling. "I'm not going to lie and say it's like the movies," Ezra mumbles, "it's teeth breaking skin; it's going to hurt... I'll be as careful as I can."
Leon shifts his eyes, seeing red ones look back up to him. "Promise?" he asks quietly, feeling movement behind him.
"I promise," Ezra murmurs quietly, watching Leon smile awkwardly.
"And you know," Ezra mutters, making Leon breathe out as his head is tilted again, "I never got to tell your parents, but when moving amongst most supernaturals now, you'll hold a status."
"What does that mean?" Leon asks, running his thumbs over the silver on the collar.
Ezra bites his lip, closing his eyes and fighting down the twisting in his stomach. Being so close to a healthy pulse while so damaged is nauseating. "If you're bitten by a vampire and can walk around with no other wounds, you're seen as claimed. We don't mess with each other's property unless we want to be hunted ourselves. Do you understand what I mean?"
Leon's pulse spikes, tensing as something sharp grazes the side of his throat. "And six fang marks instead of two," Ezra mutters against his skin, holding tightly to Leon's chest as a trembling hand reaches up and holds his wrist. He's shaking, but not resisting. "Vampire's don't start with that many; that alone is powerful."
Leon gasps in pain as Ezra gives in to his clutching stomach, pressing his teeth down and breaking multiple holes into the warm skin. Immediately Leon's grip tightens, grinding his teeth and drawing up his legs.
Ezra tightens his jaw slightly before releasing, the heat of human skin and blood against his tongue making his mouth water. Immediately Leon gives a half sigh upon having the heavy pressure released, cringing as the saliva from Ezra's mouth makes the open wounds burn and throb.
He was absolutely right; being bitten by a vampire is nothing like the movies make it to be. It hurts. Every part of it.
Ezra has no more comments to make as his nails dig into the human's ribs, not noticing the tears pricking Leon's already red-ringed eyes. Even though the worst part is over, he can feel the rough surface of Ezra's tongue on his skin repeatedly running over the six puncture wounds. His throat's bruising, aching and slick under any crimson that drips.
A low rumble echoes Ezra's chest. His skin's healing, but painfully.
Ezra holds his tongue against the wounds a second more before drawing his head away, panting as he leans back on the bed with both hands. "God, it hurts," he mutters, flexing his aching feet. Having danced around in holy water, then forced to walk around made his feet strike with pain with every step he took. The pain still lingers.
Ezra reaches down and rolls down the top of his sock, pulling it off without thinking. Immediately he yelps as the blisters stick and pull, making sticky red smear across his sole.
Ezra grits his bloody teeth, gripping his ankle as the stinging begins to fade. Pain flares in his chest instead, his body not having nearly enough substance to heal, even though it was trying to.
"Ezra?" Leon asks, turning in his spot so he can see. He reaches forward, gripping the other's arm and gaining his attention. "Ezra- what's wrong?"
Ezra lifts his hand. The blisters on his bad arm had begun healing- or trying to at least- only settling into his skin in bumps and crimson dots. It feels as if he's in the sun, the stinging and burning sinking into his muscles as they tremble and struggle to fix the deepening wounds.
"Ezra," Leon demands, making the vampire look up. He furrows his eyebrows down, looking frustrated and scared. "I know that was nearly nothing. Just do it- you're not hurting me, it's just hurting you."
Leon yelps as he's flung onto his back, head landing on the mattress and messing up the neat covers. He looks up with wide eyes as Ezra holds down either of his shoulders, struggling to keep his teeth from baring as he straddles his hips.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, looking distressed. Leon shifts his eyes as a drop of crimson runs down Ezra's arm, dripping from a broken blister.
"I told you to do this!" Leon scolds, turning his head as Ezra's red stained teeth flash in the shadows. "I know you won't hurt me, I just want you to heal and not have your own body try and kill you!"
Ezra leans down, feeling the younger's pulse spike like it had before. His stomach twists painfully in his abdomen. "I do not remember the last time," Ezra starts, wincing as another trail of blood starts down his arm, "that I bit a human I didn't kill. Do you see why I'm nervous?"
Leon swallows, tightening his grip on Ezra's biceps. They aren't as damaged as the rest of him.
Ezra tilts Leon's jaw, pausing at a moment of resistance. He gives a breath, moving his head and willingly exposing the nonbitten side of his throat. Ezra sighs, feeling his own muscles shake against the urge to bite harder to get more blood. He hasn't even opened his jaw yet.
Leon covers his mouth as six fangs break his clean skin, whimpering under the pain as his knees draw up. Expecting the burn it doesn't hurt as much, but the pressure of Ezra's tightening jaw makes him shake. The bruises are going to make it look like he was strangled.
Again the pressure releases, making his coiled muscles give slightly and letting him breathe again. He winces and shifts under Ezra's weight as his shaking seems to ease little by little.
"I'm sorry," Ezra mumbles against his skin, sinking his teeth back into the wounds. Leon's face twists in pain, unable to curl into himself past Ezra. His teeth grind, biting his lip so hard his skin breaks.
Oh, how he wished it was as graceful as in the movies. Maybe that's how his father thought it was going to be, and why he wanted nothing to do with it. It hurts a lot more than what the actors make it look.
"I'm sorry," he mutters again, putting his mouth over the wound to keep it from leaking on the dark covers. Leon's head moves out of the way, feeling Ezra's muscles shake again. This time they tremble from overuse, tired and fatigued from being undernourished and used without repair. His skin visibly begins to sew itself together, smoothing down and cutting off any leaking blood.
"Ezra," Leon urges quietly, holding his arms as his tongue presses to the wounds. They're closed off, stopping the pain and bleeding. This time the healing wounds barely throb.
"I'm sorry," Ezra mutters again, sitting back on the younger's hips. His shining red eyes drop and open, fighting the fatigue he's finally feeling.
Leon winces as he sits up on the bed, twisting his head and popping his neck. "Are you healing?" he asks, struggling to see through the dark.
Ezra nods, fighting against his body's process and staring at the human. He always slept heavily the night after a fight; that must just be a part of healing.
Leon sighs, letting his tense shoulders relax. "Thank goodness." He smiles, letting his freehand rest on the other's leg. "See? That wasn't that dramatic. I knew you wouldn't hurt me. I trust you."
Ezra struggles to look up, running his tongue over his lips and exposing his crimson teeth. The site of his fangs makes a shiver race down Leon's spine.
"You can sleep," he says quietly, nudging Ezra until he crawls off his legs, "I'll get something to wash you off. I'll be back, okay?"
Ezra's eyes fall closed after he lets go of Leon's hand, taking in a deep breath as his aching muscles finally loosen enough to settle into the clean sheets.
Leon smiles slightly, letting out a quiet sigh as he gets up and silently exits the room.
His mom suddenly pops out from her rooms doorway, making the teen's heart jump in his chest. He's in the hallway.
"Are you okay?" she asks, stepping out as she realizes the door behind him is closed. She walks up to her son, grabbing his face and tilting his head either way to see the marks Ezra had left.
"I'm fine!" Leon urges, stepping past his mother. He trails to the bathroom, hearing her follow close behind.
"What did he do?" she asks, watching Leon pull a washrag from the cabinet and wet it in the sink. "Did it hurt?"
Leon pulls down the collar of his shirt and raises the washrag to his neck, dabbing off the smeared and dried blood. "I mean, it definitely hurt," he says, stretching his neck and looking in the mirror. "Look at all the marks. They healed so fast after he closed them off for me."
"Did he listen to you?" his mother asks, studying the teen's reflection to see the healed fang prints. "He didn't do anything you didn't want?"
"Mom!" Leon exclaims quietly, feeling his pulse ache in the bite marks. "He didn't- he was more nervous than I was. He didn't want to hurt me, and he didn't."
"Good." His mother smiles, tapping her chin as Leon covers his face. "I'd rather not kick out that kid. I happen to like him."