Mick
What did he do to me? I can feel it. The BOND. The difference is so drastic it deserves capital letters.
The BOND. It slides through my veins, swirls around in my heart, fills my head. It's in my blood. Literally. He tried to deny it. Tried to say I'd already been sired once, that he hadn't turned me, but re-turned me. That I'd eventually have turned back anyway. But I can feel it.
We've been friends for a long time, about fifty years. Best friends, if I may be so bold. I've always been aware of his age, as any vampire is aware of an Elder. And he is the Elder of the L.A. community, with all the accompanying power and responsibility. But now I can feel his power, a strength that I'd only suspected before, and his sense of responsibility, magnified a hundred times when it’s aimed at me. Responsibility and protectiveness.
But there's even more to it than what I feel from him. There are my feelings. Though I think it is best described as....instinct. Yes. Instinct seems right. Though I'm well aware of how I'm feeling, I often have to fight the way my mind and body automatically respond to him. The deference. I have trouble meeting his eyes. When he's angry or annoyed, I tense up. When he's angry or annoyed at me, I flinch and become uneasy. The first time, before I could even consider resisting, I actually bared my neck.
And that sense of responsibility and protectiveness that I'm getting from him is overwhelming at times. I feel safe and smothered all at once. I feel like a child in the presence of a powerful, intimidating father. And I've found myself becoming anxious when I go too long without seeing him, as if I have to reassure myself that he's still there. I've also caught myself running to him when I’m upset or having a bad day. I think I’ve begun to crave the way I feel when I'm in his presence. Like a drug.
I recognize these feelings. I remember feeling them right after Coraline turned me. But she’d turned me without my consent, and I was unable to get past the pain of that betrayal. I don't have that obstacle, that shield, with Josef. I asked- no, begged- him to turn me back.
I can feel him nearby. That’s another perk, this awareness. He's coming now. I can sense some of the things on his mind. I would have preferred to put this off as long as possible, but I guess the time has come. It's time for us to sit down and have a long-overdue discussion about these changes. Time to have a talk with my new Sire.
Josef
What did I do? It had been a moment of weakness in the face of his desperation. He’d begged. He’d called me brother. I only did what he wanted. But he’d wanted what he had never wanted. Does that even make sense? So did I do him a favor or not? Did I help him by giving him what he'd asked for? Or damn him once again to the life he'd despised and finally escaped?
He's my- dare I say it?- best friend. And more, now. I tried to deny it, reason it away with the fact that he had already been turned by Coraline fifty-five years ago. But I couldn't fool myself and I couldn't fool him. How could I, when we could both feel it? It's nothing a mortal could possibly comprehend: the feelings and instincts that bond vampires together, particularly a Sire and his fledgling.
There. I said it. Sire.
I resisted it because I didn't want our friendship to change. And I didn't want to compare it to my failed attempt with Sarah. My Sarah, who doesn’t live but cannot die, because of me. I couldn't bear it if it were to happen again. And to Mick.
But it didn’t happen. The turning worked. And technically, I am new at being a Sire. Sarah's eternal coma hasn't ever allowed me to experience the full effect. The feelings are stronger, probably because I'm aware of Mick’s as well as mine. My instincts, my responsibilities as a Sire, aren’t muted anymore.
I've always been a little protective of Mick. He's so much younger. He severed his ties to his Sire- now former Sire- and young vampires without their Sires are not only dangerous, but in danger. They also tend to be lonely and unhappy. The relationship a fledgling has with his Sire usually defines what kind of vampire he will become, in the same way that a child is shaped by the teachings and examples of his parents.
Now the protectiveness I feel is much stronger, harder to resist. I feel that I must stand over him to keep him safe, at the same time knowing it is something he doesn’t want. He wants to feel strong. And he seems to have been returned to his former strength and skill rather than to those of a newborn vampire- which, by the way, isn't saying much, from my point of view. Fifty-five years is barely beyond infancy for an immortal, especially without the guidance of an attentive Sire. But that's neither here nor there.
Although Mick has been restored to his former "strength"- maybe age is a better word- he seems to have been cursed with some of the emotional reflexes of a newborn. I've noticed his insecurity, and his actions and reactions when he's near me. He doesn’t want any of them. And yet he comes to me now, a few times a week, to calm his instinctive uncertainty. He's drawn to me. A Sire is a fledgling's ultimate source of comfort and safety; often that continues even after it is no longer as desperately needed as it is in the beginning. And Mick never let himself go to Coraline.
I feel a powerful sense of dominance, so strong that I often have to fight to suppress it. I push down the desire to make him submit, to make him obey me- my instincts say there is something so right about it, so fulfilling. That it's just the way it was meant to be.
Actually, it ties in with the protectiveness toward him. My dominance is intended to keep him safe, even from himself, from his own mistakes. That’s how it is for newborns: they must be controlled as well as taught, cared for until they learn to control themselves and can be socialized into the vampire Community. New turns are dependent on their Sires for everything.
But Mick's not a new turn. Not really.
Even so, we both seem to have developed the instincts and emotions. It's probably normal on my part. I know that Sires usually feel this way about their fledgling always. They simply endure the parting process as their little bird leaves the nest, as it were. Much like mortal parents. And most vampires will retain many of their feelings toward their Sires- especially the instincts of submission- if they continue a relationship with them.
But Mick seems to be feeling almost as dependent as a new turn. Not quite, or he would be unable to leave my presence at all for a while. But it’s bad enough for him that he seeks me out much more often than was his custom, and usually for no more reason than that he simply needs the reassurance that I'm still here. His behavior is that of a fledgling barely a year or two old, past the crucial dependence, but not on his own quite yet. And it’s my job to be here whenever he needs me.
Although I've come to accept these things, Mick has refused. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. I know he feels it. He has to, but he doesn’t want to admit it. And now, we have to address the issue and decide how we're going to proceed. We can't continue on normally until we do. Not that the situation we’re in is normal. But maybe between the two of us, we can find a new kind of normal.
TBC
What did he do to me? I can feel it. The BOND. The difference is so drastic it deserves capital letters.
The BOND. It slides through my veins, swirls around in my heart, fills my head. It's in my blood. Literally. He tried to deny it. Tried to say I'd already been sired once, that he hadn't turned me, but re-turned me. That I'd eventually have turned back anyway. But I can feel it.
We've been friends for a long time, about fifty years. Best friends, if I may be so bold. I've always been aware of his age, as any vampire is aware of an Elder. And he is the Elder of the L.A. community, with all the accompanying power and responsibility. But now I can feel his power, a strength that I'd only suspected before, and his sense of responsibility, magnified a hundred times when it’s aimed at me. Responsibility and protectiveness.
But there's even more to it than what I feel from him. There are my feelings. Though I think it is best described as....instinct. Yes. Instinct seems right. Though I'm well aware of how I'm feeling, I often have to fight the way my mind and body automatically respond to him. The deference. I have trouble meeting his eyes. When he's angry or annoyed, I tense up. When he's angry or annoyed at me, I flinch and become uneasy. The first time, before I could even consider resisting, I actually bared my neck.
And that sense of responsibility and protectiveness that I'm getting from him is overwhelming at times. I feel safe and smothered all at once. I feel like a child in the presence of a powerful, intimidating father. And I've found myself becoming anxious when I go too long without seeing him, as if I have to reassure myself that he's still there. I've also caught myself running to him when I’m upset or having a bad day. I think I’ve begun to crave the way I feel when I'm in his presence. Like a drug.
I recognize these feelings. I remember feeling them right after Coraline turned me. But she’d turned me without my consent, and I was unable to get past the pain of that betrayal. I don't have that obstacle, that shield, with Josef. I asked- no, begged- him to turn me back.
I can feel him nearby. That’s another perk, this awareness. He's coming now. I can sense some of the things on his mind. I would have preferred to put this off as long as possible, but I guess the time has come. It's time for us to sit down and have a long-overdue discussion about these changes. Time to have a talk with my new Sire.
Josef
What did I do? It had been a moment of weakness in the face of his desperation. He’d begged. He’d called me brother. I only did what he wanted. But he’d wanted what he had never wanted. Does that even make sense? So did I do him a favor or not? Did I help him by giving him what he'd asked for? Or damn him once again to the life he'd despised and finally escaped?
He's my- dare I say it?- best friend. And more, now. I tried to deny it, reason it away with the fact that he had already been turned by Coraline fifty-five years ago. But I couldn't fool myself and I couldn't fool him. How could I, when we could both feel it? It's nothing a mortal could possibly comprehend: the feelings and instincts that bond vampires together, particularly a Sire and his fledgling.
There. I said it. Sire.
I resisted it because I didn't want our friendship to change. And I didn't want to compare it to my failed attempt with Sarah. My Sarah, who doesn’t live but cannot die, because of me. I couldn't bear it if it were to happen again. And to Mick.
But it didn’t happen. The turning worked. And technically, I am new at being a Sire. Sarah's eternal coma hasn't ever allowed me to experience the full effect. The feelings are stronger, probably because I'm aware of Mick’s as well as mine. My instincts, my responsibilities as a Sire, aren’t muted anymore.
I've always been a little protective of Mick. He's so much younger. He severed his ties to his Sire- now former Sire- and young vampires without their Sires are not only dangerous, but in danger. They also tend to be lonely and unhappy. The relationship a fledgling has with his Sire usually defines what kind of vampire he will become, in the same way that a child is shaped by the teachings and examples of his parents.
Now the protectiveness I feel is much stronger, harder to resist. I feel that I must stand over him to keep him safe, at the same time knowing it is something he doesn’t want. He wants to feel strong. And he seems to have been returned to his former strength and skill rather than to those of a newborn vampire- which, by the way, isn't saying much, from my point of view. Fifty-five years is barely beyond infancy for an immortal, especially without the guidance of an attentive Sire. But that's neither here nor there.
Although Mick has been restored to his former "strength"- maybe age is a better word- he seems to have been cursed with some of the emotional reflexes of a newborn. I've noticed his insecurity, and his actions and reactions when he's near me. He doesn’t want any of them. And yet he comes to me now, a few times a week, to calm his instinctive uncertainty. He's drawn to me. A Sire is a fledgling's ultimate source of comfort and safety; often that continues even after it is no longer as desperately needed as it is in the beginning. And Mick never let himself go to Coraline.
I feel a powerful sense of dominance, so strong that I often have to fight to suppress it. I push down the desire to make him submit, to make him obey me- my instincts say there is something so right about it, so fulfilling. That it's just the way it was meant to be.
Actually, it ties in with the protectiveness toward him. My dominance is intended to keep him safe, even from himself, from his own mistakes. That’s how it is for newborns: they must be controlled as well as taught, cared for until they learn to control themselves and can be socialized into the vampire Community. New turns are dependent on their Sires for everything.
But Mick's not a new turn. Not really.
Even so, we both seem to have developed the instincts and emotions. It's probably normal on my part. I know that Sires usually feel this way about their fledgling always. They simply endure the parting process as their little bird leaves the nest, as it were. Much like mortal parents. And most vampires will retain many of their feelings toward their Sires- especially the instincts of submission- if they continue a relationship with them.
But Mick seems to be feeling almost as dependent as a new turn. Not quite, or he would be unable to leave my presence at all for a while. But it’s bad enough for him that he seeks me out much more often than was his custom, and usually for no more reason than that he simply needs the reassurance that I'm still here. His behavior is that of a fledgling barely a year or two old, past the crucial dependence, but not on his own quite yet. And it’s my job to be here whenever he needs me.
Although I've come to accept these things, Mick has refused. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. I know he feels it. He has to, but he doesn’t want to admit it. And now, we have to address the issue and decide how we're going to proceed. We can't continue on normally until we do. Not that the situation we’re in is normal. But maybe between the two of us, we can find a new kind of normal.
TBC
 |
 |