call me cloud

RULES

No NSFW. The most I'll write is a fade to black. It makes me personally uncomfortable.

Not to say I'll only write MLM but I'll mainly be writing those. Preferably that or with a gender neutral reader.

Requests are open except when they're not. Please be specific (or as specific as you can) when requesting or just tell me I can do whatever I want if that's okay lol

Please be respectful when interacting.

No huge age gaps, ddlg, lolicon, or any stuff like that; along with NSFW it makes me uncomfortable.

This list will be updated if needed.

What I write for;

Mortal Kombat X/11/1

Resident Evil

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Spider-Man/Marvel

Final Fantasy VII

The market was busy this time of day, and the sounds of chatter would be overwhelming, but Lee found comfort in having Zuko next to him as they searched for Iroh. They'd gotten separated by the crowd but neither of them were too worried. Zuko guessed he was looking for Pai Sho pieces, so he and Lee agreed they'd find him later. For now, they strolled aimlessly, following the flow of the crowd for the most part.

Lee linked their pinkies together, said it'd keep them from getting separated without them showing too much affection in public. Personally, he didn't care much, but he understood why Zuko did. People would judge, especially when it came to royalty.

Despite that, he was enjoying their little date. It wasn't much of a date, sure, but it was the only date Lee had ever been on.

He stopped at a stall with various crystals and jewelry. Shiny things were Lee's favorite. He examined a small, heart shaped necklace, letting it sit in his open palm. Zuko stood beside him, waiting.

“What's that?” He asked.

“Looks like a locket,” Lee answered, opening the necklace. “It's cute. And look at all the crystals they have!”

“What would you even need them for? They just sit on your nightstand.”

“They're pretty…”

Zuko followed as Lee walked along the stall, grabbing crystals seemingly at random. “Just pretty?”

“Well-” Lee picked another one, and dropped it into the same hand holding the necklace. “-Some people say they have certain qualities. Or that they help with mediation or bending.” He chose another, and held it up to the side of Zuko's face. “This one matches your eyes perfectly. It's tigerseye, I think…”

Zuko was struck silent by that. “You want it just because it matches my eyes?”

“It'll be like having a part of you with me.”

Zuko peered at his shoes, shaking his head. “Ridiculous.”

“You keep my dog tags.”

“Th-that’s different.” He nodded at the crystals. “That's a rock.”

“Your brain is a rock.”

Lee finished his shopping with a hefty amount of crystals and the locket. He placed his items on the stall and reached for his pouch of coin. Zuko placed his own on the table instead.

“I'll pay for your dumb rocks,” Zuko said.

“You don't have to-”

“I'll pay.”

Lee was about to argue again. Zuko dropped a few pieces of gold, grabbed Lee's things and pulled him away from the stall. Then he held everything out to him, and Lee took it.

“Here.” Zuko tucked Lee's hair away from his neck and clasped the locket around it. He fixed his hair, smoothed it out, and stood in front of him. He eyed the charm. “It looks nice on you.”

Lee blinked. He knew he was blushing from how hot his cheeks felt. It was completely embarrassing, the way he blushed whenever things like this happened.

“Ah, thanks,” he said. Zuko's laugh made his face burn hotter. He stuffed the crystals in his pockets. He reached for the charm and opened it again, running his thumb along the side of it. “I'd like to put something in here.”

“Oh?” Zuko linked their pinkies again as they continued walking. “Like?”

“Maybe a picture. Or some flowers.”

Zuko hummed.

People began to filter out, and the market became less and less crowded. It was easier to make their way around and see the other stalls. One in particular caught Zuko's eye. The merchant had prepared an array of various foods, mostly snacks, fresh and inviting.

“Hey, Lee, are you hungry?”

“Hmm? A little.”

“They have some pork buns over there.” Zuko retrieved his coin pouch again. “How many do you want?”

“Just two. Are you sure you want to pay?”

“Aren't we on a date?”

Lee flushed again.

Zuko rubbed his knuckles with his thumb. “You're bold until I'm the one flirting.”

“Yeah, well, so are you.”

Zuko didn't respond, because he knew it was true. He headed for the stall, purchased two pork buns for each of them, and returned.

“Thanks, Zuko!”

“You're welcome.” He gave Lee his food. “Here.”

Lee took a bite, then quickly swallowed it. “It's hot!”

“Careful.” Zuko bit his, and ended up doing the same thing. “Ow, you're right!”

“Come on, let's sit down.”

After finishing their food, they remained seated in a small bench near the market, watching people go by. Iroh would probably reunite with them soon, so they decided they'd stay seated. The sky was orange and yellow, colors melted together, as the sun began to set. Lee admired it quietly, leaning back on the bench. If only Zuko didn't have his shoulder guards on, then Lee could've leaned on his shoulder. There weren't many people here anymore, so it shouldn't have been a problem.

“Feeling okay?” Zuko asked him.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“No headaches?”

“No, I'm fine.” Lee sat up. He took Zuko's hand and kissed the back of it. “You?”

“I'm fine. Ready to get back to the boat. Whenever Iroh finishes with-”

“I've found it!” Iroh's voice carried from the middle of the market as he proudly made his way to the others. “The lotus piece. I had to haggle quite a bit, but it is finally mine.” He wore a triumphant grin on his face, which made Lee smile a little upon seeing it. “Are you kids ready to leave?”

“Yes,” Zuko said as he stood up, “we are.”

“Glad you found your piece!” Lee said.

“I, too, am glad. Thank you, Lee. Let's get going, shall we?”

Iroh led the way, excitedly turning the Pai Sho piece in his hand, admiring its craftsmanship as the light settled on it.

Lee stopped suddenly, grabbing Zuko's hand with much more force than necessary.

“Zuko, let's play real or not real.”

Zuko followed Lee's line of sight. He stared off into a gap in the crowd, at nothing in particular. “Okay,” he said, rubbing his knuckles.

“There's a…” Lee paused. “There's a man over there, a…Fire Nation soldier. He has a lot of blood on his face. Real or not real?”

“Not real.”

Lee calmed, hearing Zuko's quick answer. “Okay. Cool.”

“It's just us. Come.”

The ship wasn't too far, so it took them only a brief walk to the docks before they were finally inside the familiar ship. The rest of the soldiers were there, preparing their things for when they'd set sail tomorrow. Lee and Zuko would separate for now, but late at night, when mostly everyone was asleep, save for those on night watch, Zuko would visit Lee. It was a ritual for one of them to visit the other, and they quickly found they couldn't sleep in their rooms, not without each other. Not if Zuko didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night. Not if Lee didn't want to have nightmares that tore him from his sleep.

The door was already unlocked, of course, for Zuko to enter. He found Lee sitting on his bed, still brushing his long, wet hair. Zuko sat beside him.

“My hair gets tangled so easily. Seriously, I have knots everywhere.”

Lee did that thing, where he looked at him through his lashes, a cute pout on his face…

“Let me brush it,” Zuko offered. He extended his hand and Lee placed the brush in it.

“Thanks, Zuko.”

“You're welcome.”

“You're sweet.”

Zuko made a noise, a cross between a laugh and a sigh. “Yeah.”

Zuko brushed through Lee's hair slowly, taking great care in being gentle, as if it were something precious. He wouldn't cause Lee any amount of pain, not even enough for the smallest wince. And he wanted to make up for earlier. The day had been stressful, what with them losing the Avatar again. And Lee's anxiety seemed to be restless today. That went for Zuko, too, honestly. They both needed some rest.

“It's so quiet tonight,” Lee mused, “it creeps me out a little.” Zuko had finished with his hair, so he leaned back into his lap. Lee looked at him, with his big, deer-like eyes, and Zuko smiled.

“Yeah, me too. Don't let it bother you.”

“I usually don't.”

“Still hung up on your nightmare?”

“Yeah.” Lee scoffed lightly. “I'm sick of having them. It's been three years, you'd figure I'd stop having nightmares about it, even since I don't remember half of what happened.”

Zuko began to play with his hair. It was so soft. “I get it. I feel like that, too. It's a little different, but still.”

Lee thought for a second. “Yeah. You should be easier on yourself.”

“You, too.”

Lee stuck his tongue out at him.

“Did you already read tonight?” Zuko asked him after a while, now twirling his hair around his fingers.

Lee glanced at the stacks of books on his nightstand. “I tried. Eclipse and Marked are both getting on my nerves.”

Zuko let out a little chuckle. “Why?”

“The characters are just annoying…and I've already read all the other books. I might just read them again.”

“New Moon makes you sad, though.”

“But it's really great.”

Zuko recalled the night Lee threw that same book across his room because whatever happened in it made him upset. “...Sure.”

Silence fell over them again for a good while. Lee was beginning to fall asleep in Zuko's lap. After the second time Zuko woke him up, they decided to get under the covers and actually sleep. It was already late.

Zuko absentmindedly messed with Lee's hair, tousling the strands and purposely putting it in his face so Lee would pout that cute pout again. It was sort of fun making him annoyed. Especially since Lee would nudge his leg like a rabbit stomping its foot.

It helped distract Zuko from his endless racing thoughts; of course, his mind would wait until he was trying to relax to go over every reason his plans would fail. Eventually, he pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning, and he turned to Lee.

“Can you read me something?”

Lee, who was laying on his stomach next to him, flipping through pages of a book, rested his chin in his palm and looked at Zuko. “Like what?”

“Whatever you want.”

“How about…” Lee examined his books, and retrieved the thickest one he had.

“Woah,” Zuko said, “you could knock someone out with that. Which one is it?”

“Midnight Sun.”

“Oh, more vampire romance.”

“You're such an Edward.”

“What?! No, I'm not!”

“You both brood. All the time.”

“I do not brood,” Zuko whined.

Lee gave him a look. He opened the book and flipped through the pages. “Since we finished the other ones together, we have to finish the series now.”

“Oh, goody.”

“You knew I was going to choose this one.”

“...Yeah, I did.”

“You're doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Brooding.”

Zuko huffed.

“Let's see…what chapter were we on…?”

He found it, and Lee read quietly, just enough for them both to hear. Zuko moved a little closer, also on his stomach, reading along with Lee. Lee put an arm around him, tracing lines along his back. He stopped reading, trailed off as he stared at the corner of the room.

“There's someone standing there,” Lee said, “real or not real?”

“Not real,” Zuko answered.

Lee gripped the back of Zuko's shirt. “You're here. Real or not real?”

“Real.”

“Okay.” Lee rested his head on Zuko's shoulder, and Zuko kissed his head. “You love me. Real or-”

my oc is named Alistair Whitlock (i've written about him here before). he's known mark since their first year of highschool. he's part vampire, but doesn't discover that until around the same time mark discovers his powers (more will be explained later)

also side note, like i said ive only seen a few episodes so far. i think you have to pay for the seasons after the first one (?) so I might just read a wiki or something, and yes im planning on reading the comics at some point in the near future. bear with me 🐻

This wasn't the weirdest thing to happen in Mark's life, but it definitely made the top ten, at least.

Alistair was his friend. Since he had started high school, they'd been…pretty close. Hanging out every weekend and talking almost every day. Alistair wasn't the most outgoing, but he was there. Whenever Mark needed him, with all this super hero shit going on in their city. They could talk about anything. School, work, family, girls.

That last part neither of them were really interested in- Mark wouldn't admit that though. His parents wouldn't probably care either way, but there was always this…pressure. To conform. So when he found his thoughts drifting toward Alistair when William would go on about Amber or Eve or any of the other girls in their school, Mark tried to push it away.

And then that came back to bite him in the ass. 

He never knew he could be such a clingy motherfucker. Not until Alistair just…stopped showing up to school. Stopped going out. Stopped responding to Mark's texts. Mark was worried out of his mind, but whenever he reached out he just got left on delivered. He tried calling, showing up at his house.

And then he learned Alistair had gone missing. Officially, declared missing. 

He was gone. Just gone. No notes, no nothing. Mark flew around in search of him, and couldn't find anything. 

A month passed. Nothing. Mark threw himself into hero work, other things- tried a relationship with Amber…but, he wasn't as into her as he thought he'd be.

More hero work. Honestly, he couldn't focus on much else. Alistair…he wanted to call him, talk to him, make sure he was okay- this whole thing made him reflect and he wasn't being the best friend. He'd been ignoring him, ditching him, and now Mark wasn't sure if he'd even be able to apologize. If Alistair was dead, or worse, Mark would never forgive himself.

Then came the Flaxans, and their attack on the city. That was when Mark saw Alistair, bloodied and pale and beaten and…god, he looked terrible. He weighed nothing in Mark's arms. What happened to him? Who did this? Who dropped him off in the middle of a damn alien invasion and left him for dead? He must've been kidnapped, he must've...

He took Alistair, and the old woman he also found, to the GDA. Forced the doctors there to admit them, because god knew they needed care, and urgently.

Those next few hours were a blur. All he remembered was patching himself up, talking to his mom, watching his dad, hoping he'd wake up…and passing Alistair's room, seeing his thin, pale body. Watching Alistair's ribs fix themselves (it had to be the technology in the facility, there was no other explanation)- his chest snapped back into place, as if he fixed his posture. The scene replayed in Mark's head, slightly…disturbing. The sound of his bones, his heart...Mark was assured that he was alive, but Alistair's heart wasn't beating.

The next day, when he learned the woman didn't make it, he asked about Alistair. He was gone. Just, gone. Again, out of his grasp. Mark couldn't think straight. 

Another week passed. There was that study date with Amber, and it went relatively well. Mark had a good time but the fact they kissed kept him up and made him feel…weird. 

Was Alistair doing okay?

The new Guardians were put together. Mark still kept an eye out for Alistair when he flew around the city.

Then, one day, he got a call from Alistair's mother. Ms. Whitlock apologized for the sudden call, but said there was an urgent matter- Alistair really needed his friend.

Alistair was holed up in his room when Mark got there. Mark tried to assure Ms. Whitlock that everything would be fine, he'd get Alistair out and they'd be able to take care of him, report what happened to the police. 

Mark entered the dark room, slowly, and called Alistair's name. He heard hissing and something moved in one of the corners. 

“Can I turn on the light? I can't see,” Mark asked. No answer. He flipped on the light anyway. 

Alistair stood in the corner, pressed up against the wall, and stared. His once lovely caramel eyes were hollow, lifeless, with a hint of red that Mark thought was maybe just a trick of the light. Purple bruises under his eyes suggested he hadn't gotten sleep in weeks…and Alistair trembled under Mark's gaze, which made his chest ache painfully. His hair stuck out in every which way, chopped shorter than before. It used to be long, pretty, and it softened his features. Now, he just looked worn out.

Mark wanted to scoop Alistair up and hold him, protect him, like he should've done all those weeks ago.

He felt relief upon seeing his friend alive, but guilt still ate away at him.

“What…what happened to you? Where have you been? Alistair, tell me what's going on with you.” 

“Go away.” 

Mark paused at the sound of Alistair's rough, angry tone, but he took a step forward anyway.

“I can't- I won't.”

“Go away. I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't! I know you won't. Just tell me what's going on. I can help you.” He wasn't sure exactly how he'd do that, but there had to be some way. 

“Please, Mark.”

Suddenly Alistair's voice was soft and sad and it made Mark's heart ache again. Somehow it hurt physically to see him like this…Mark reached out, beckoning Alistair closer. Alistair moved slowly.

“I'm scared.”

“Of what?” Mark asked.

“This is all new to me. I've been hiding so I can't hurt anyone. But god, it hurts so much…I'm so…”

“Tell me.”

Alistair took in a sharp breath. Exhaled slowly. “You were bleeding.”

Mark glanced down to see where Alistair was looking- just a papercut he had bandaged earlier. “I'm…fine.”

“You should go.”

“Alistair-”

“Mark, I'm a vampire.”

Silence. A beat passed.

“I'm a monster,” Alistair whispered, disgust clear in his voice. Sorrow, almost. “Why are you here? I can't believe…” He gasped, as if he were out of breath. “Are you here to torture me more?”

“What…what are you talking about? Alistair, I'm here to help you. Just let me help you.”

“You don't care about me.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement- Alistair said it like it was a fact. 

It just wasn't true, but Mark knew that must've been how it came off- he cursed at himself for it. 

“I do care. Alistair, I've been worried sick about you! I thought-” He paused, clearing his throat, trying not to get too worked up. “I thought you were dead. I thought something bad happened to you, we all did.”

“I am dead.” Alistair outstretched his arms, as if presenting something. Himself. “Look at me, Mark. I'm dead. Someone killed me and I came back like this!”

Alistair's weak legs couldn't carry him much longer, but Mark was quick enough to catch him. He held him against his chest, kept him close- protected, like what he should've done before…

“You're right here with me,” Mark whispered, “nothing can hurt you. I've got you. It's going to be okay. And I do care, Alistair, I…” He sighed. “Just believe me.”

Alistair still trembled even with Mark keeping him secure, so he just held him for a little while longer. For a second, Mark wondered if he was dreaming. Alistair was in his arms after weeks of stressing and worrying and wondering- but he felt…cold, dead. He really did feel dead. 

A corpse. Was he holding a corpse? Did he find Alistair's body, was he just pretending, deluding himself?

He felt Alistair's lips nudge his neck and it brought him back to reality. Beautiful reality. 

“Alistair,” he whispered, squeezing him lightly. “What's going on with you?”

“This hurts. You're hurting me.”

“Am I?” Mark began to let him go, but Alistair brought him back.

“It hurts…everything hurts.”

“What hurts? Tell me, Alistair…”

“I haven't eaten anything since I left.”

“Want me to make you something?” 

Mark would literally do anything Alistair asked of him right now.

“No, Mark…” 

He felt Alistair's cold lips on his throat again and shivered. And then he understood. 

It sort of felt…nice. He probably shouldn't be thinking like this, but he liked the feeling of Alistair's lips on him. He filed away that thought for later. 

He did promise to himself, he'd take care of Alistair. This fell under the category of taking care of him, didn't it?

“Bite me, Alistair.”

Alistair sighed and Mark felt his cool breath fan across his skin. He shivered again.

“This is going to hurt. Sorry.”

Alistair held no hesitation. His teeth sunk into Mark's neck, and he sucked, leaving Mark almost paralyzed- frozen like a statue and numb, and soon lightheaded. When he came to his senses, he tried pulling Alistair's hair, tugging on his shirt. Alistair didn't stop. Not for a while. 

Then when he did, he tore himself away and pushed Mark back. He pressed himself against the opposite wall. Mark's blood stained his lips so prettily, it was hard for him to look away even given the...situation. 

Alistair reached for his throat. Licked his lips. Sighed, maybe in relief, it sounded. His eyes were the color of caramel again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"It's fine, I heal pretty quickly."

"I could've killed you."

"But you didn't."

"Can't you take anything seriously?" Alistair sounded exasperated, but Mark could hear the smalled hint of amusement. Alistair huffed, and again, slowly, made his way toward Mark and began to examine the bite. 

Mark craned his head up to give Alistair more room. He shivered as he felt Alistair's tongue lap up what was left. "How long has it been since you've eaten anything?" He paused. "Are you still-"

"I'm okay," Alistair interjected. "The last time was a...maybe a few weeks ago. I..." A beat passed. He looked down, then shook his head and looked at the bite again. He spoke reluctantly, painfully recalling the memory. "When my transformation first began, there was still fresh blood in my body."

He stepped away. Extended his arm, and ran his fingers over pale streaks across his skin. Mark had to squint to see them.

"The only way I could...satisfy my thirst was by drinking my own blood. I cut myself endless times..." He hummed. "At least you can barely see it."

"You look sick," Mark said, frowning.

Alistair gave a small, weak smile. Not the bright, or maybe sarcastic, ones that Mark was used to seeing. "You look like you could fall over any second now-" Mark reached to support Alistair again, and Alistair obliged, letting Mark wrap an arm around his waist. "-sit down for a second."

They sat next to each other on Alistair's bed. Alistair ran his palm over the plush blanket, relishing in how soft they were. He suddenly seemed more exhausted, if that was even possible, and Mark let him lean against him.

"You cut your hair," Mark said quietly, fidgeting with strands of Alistair's hair between his fingers. 

"I got sick of having long hair."

"It'll look good once you fix it." You always look good.

"Hm, thanks."

"Aren't you cold?"

"I'm used to it now."

Mark grabbed another blanket anyway and tucked it around Alistair's shoulders. He pressed Alistair against his side and watched gratefully as Alistair relaxed and closed his eyes. 

"I'll sleep for a long time," Alistair whispered, "and you don't have to stay. Just go."

"I want to make sure you're alright. It's the least I could do for...treating you the way I did."

"Do whatever you want."

"Don't think I don't care about you."

Alistair didn't respond. Just snuggled into Mark's side and hid his face in his neck. Let out a sigh at how warm he was. 

Alistair fell asleep soon after. Mark could feel his cool breath against his skin, a reminder that he was, indeed, alive.

This gave Mark time to think.

So, Alistair really was a vampire. And he...probably ran away (wasn't that the best case scenario? at least that meant he wasn't kidnapped) because he...didn't want to hurt anyone, presumably? If the drinking his own blood meant anything...

Maybe that's why, during the alien attack, Mark had found Alistair hiding in the shade. It seemed irrelevant then, but now, it made him wonder- did sunlight hurt Alistair? Would he burn? Maybe sparkle?

He recalled- with great detail, for some reason- the look Alistair gave him. Alistair was covered in blood, his body limp, dead for all Mark knew- but there was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. A calm smile, a fond one. Like everything was going to be alright. Alistair had just...given up, when Mark carried him. 

Then there was the deal with Alistair's...healing. The sound of his bones cracking as they set back into place. It reminded him of a scene in this vampire movie he'd watched a few years ago...anyway, there was that and the cuts. No trace of either injury now, at least not to the untrained eye...

How'd he escape the GDA with all that security? Maybe he...flew.

What powers did Alistair have now? Mark wondered, and he couldn't keep his mind from racing, considering endless possibilities, spiraling...

He lay Alistair down, set his head on his pillow, and shifted next to him. For an hour or so he remained still before he got up and went to speak with Ms. Whitlock. Her concerned expression never changed, the crease between her eyebrows and on her forehead never smoothed out or relaxed, rather, it deepened, and she took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts list. 

She thanked Mark many times, then said she needed to make a call, and Mark returned to Alistair's room. He told Ms. Whitlock he'd keep an eye on her son.

Mark called his own parents, told Debbie he wanted to stay with Alistair as long as he could. He did return home briefly, checked on his dad again, then when he returned, eighteen hours had passed and Alistair was still asleep. He had left around nine, returned around three.

He was still the same when Mark came back. Snuggling a blanket, curled up into a ball like a baby animal, fast asleep. Mark returned to his spot and it was like he'd never left.

Mark fell asleep, and when he woke up, Alistair was gone. He panicked, but luckily it only lasted a few seconds. 

He calmed (mostly) when he saw Alistair standing at the foot of the bed.

"Were you..." Mark cleared his throat. "Watching me?"

Alistair shook his head slowly. "No. I heard you wake up."

Looks like we can add super-hearing to the list of new abilities...

"Did I scare you?" Alistair asked, as he sat on the bed, crossing his legs. "I'm sorry...I didn't want to bother you. You looked peaceful."

"Funny, I thought the same about you."

"Mhm."

Mark watched him for a few seconds. Alistair fidgeted with his hands, then held his head, and curled up into a ball, making himself as small as possible. 

Mark sat up and moved next to him. He tried to get a look at Alistair's face. "What's wrong?" He asked. He didn't want to beg- but god Alistair, give me something here-

"Thank you."

Alistair's mumbled words gave him pause. He waited for a while before he spoke again.

"I don't know what to say...I've been scared this whole time. Can you believe it? I'm...I'm dead now."

"Don't say that-"

"But I am. Or, at least, it feels- felt like it. I was a few towns over, making my way east, I think. I just wanted to get away. I thought maybe the farther away I went, the less I would be able to hurt you."

"You've never hurt me. You've done the opposite. The only time..." Mark sighed, trying not to remember the pure helplessness he felt seeing all those missing posters with Alistair's photo and name plastered on them, posted all over the city, inescapable. 

"The only time I've ever been hurt by you was when I realized you were gone," he finished. 

"I saw the posters. I took down a lot of them. Tried to...get rid of any trace I was even here."

"We led searches in the woods. We looked everywhere. I put some posters up, too." Mark shifted a little bit. Just a little closer. He noticed Alistair had changed, probably showered. The way Alistair's hair fell sort of reminded Mark of the girl from The Ring.

"But, Mark..." 

"Just talk to me, Alistair. You're the only one who bites here."

For the first time in a while, Alistair smiled genuinely. "What?" He asked, with a tiny chuckle. It sounded like absolute heaven to Mark.

"I mean-- I'm not going to bite you- you know what, it doesn't matter. I just want you to talk to me. I'm sorry for being shitty and ignoring you before..." He had been doing that to a lot of people lately, and he wasn't quite sure how he'd make it up to everyone, but he'd start here. "But I'm giving you my full attention now. I'm listening. Whatever you have to say, say it."

Alistair looked away, still smiling. He stared at his socks for a few seconds before he met Mark's eyes again. It was just like that day in the city. The same look. The everything will be okay because you're here look, and it made Mark's heart skip a beat.

"I just want to tell you thank you. I'm still scared. I don't know what's going to happen to me. I don't know how to get through this. I'm thinking I must get it from my father's side of the family- it's certainly not from my mother, and she didn't know about it either. Even with all my research, there's still so much that could happen...I could turn into a bat, I could decay over time from not drinking blood, I could completely turn into a monster..."

Mark's arm went around his shoulder again. Alistair leaned into him easily. 

"...things have always felt a little lighter with you around. Thank you for pulling me out of this. And thank you for letting me..."

For letting you bite me.

"You're welcome, Alistair. For all of it. I'll be here, okay? God, I'll-...I'm your guy, okay? For anything." Mark blinked away the tears that pricked his eyes. "I'm glad you're home. You scared the living shit out of me."

"I'm sorry. I can't promise that I won't leave again, but I'll let you know where I am."

"Don't go. Stay."

"I'll try."

"Look at me."

Alistair probably wished he hadn't. Mark was a master at puppy dog eyes. And it was impossible for Alistair to deny him anything when he pulled that trick- it was like it physically hurt or something. Alistair's expression softened.

"I'll stay for a little while," he said.

"For a lotta while."

"Sure, Mark."

Hearing the much lighter tone of Alistair's voice made Mark relax further. He was feeling better, right? He had even laughed. So they must be getting somewhere.

Alistair's arms went around Mark's waist, pulled him in for a proper hug. Mark squeezed him gently and propped his chin on the top of Alistair's head. 

With this, he wanted to make up for it all. All the hours, minutes, seconds that Alistair's mind tricked him into thinking Mark hated him- for all the time they spent apart because Mark couldn't be bothered or because super hero-ing was keeping him. For those weeks Alistair spent alone, probably scared. For the days Alistair spent in the hospital with a broken body and spirit.

Mark thought back to how he paced the halls outside Alistair's room as the doctors worked to stitch him back together. Even if he could, he knew taking a peek was a bad idea. He didn't want to see the state Alistair was in. Broken bones and blood and all. 

When Alistair flatlined, Mark was sure his own heart stopped beating, too. The machine was turned off within the next second but Mark still burst into the room to check on Alistair himself, and damn it, if it came to it, he would've willed him back to life, found some way to...

But he didn't have to worry about that now. Though the sound of EKG would still haunt him, along with the thoughts of his best friend gone, he knew that, at least in this moment, Alistair was safe in his arms and nothing would change that. And he wouldn't let anything change that. 

Alistair stared at himself in the mirror. Inhuman yellow eyes, almost glowing in the darkness, trailed over a pale statue. Dark purple bruise-like spots under his eyes reminded him he hadn't slept for days, maybe weeks. Maybe longer. His throat burned with thirst, but he wouldn't allow the monster within to corrupt him.

Fangs. A cold, corpse-like body. Enhanced senses- the ability to smell one's blood from a mile away. An unbeating heart trapped within his ribs.

Was he really a monster? Had he been a monster this entire time? Alistair touched his cold cheek, felt tears sting his eyes, and for some reason the only person he could think about was Mark Grayson.

It had been a little over a month since he had last seen his best friend, and he knew he couldn't break his streak. He'd hurt him. He'd kill him. Alistair couldn't risk it. 

Honestly, he didn't know if Mark had tried to reach out to him or not- he was far away from home and wouldn't come back anytime soon- but something in him doubted it. Was it just self-loathing or something more? He hated the feeling, but...this would keep everyone safe. From him.

Mark was a hero now- he was Invincible, literally- people looked up to him. He was doing some pretty great things, even if he was just starting out. Sure, he made a few mistakes, but...

Alistair hated himself for wanting him. For wanting to hear his voice, feel his touch (he'd probably recoil from how cold he was), have him near. He hated himself because he knew Mark didn't love him the way Alistair loved him. Rather, Mark loved Amber or Eve or whichever girl it was he was talking to...Alistair wasn't sure, but it was one of the two. 

Alistair wanted to reach into his chest, rip his heart out, crush it...stop himself from feeling this way. Never feel it again. Bury it deep down and ignore it. Forget it. It wouldn't be apart of him anymore. Even his own mother was disgusted by him, why wouldn't Mark be? There was no reason...the man he loved wouldn't stake his heart (in more ways than one).

It didn't hurt. Not at all. Not when Alistair's fist rammed into the glass mirror, shattering it, sending pieces across the floor and into the sink. He grabbed a particularly sharp shard and began to...hack away at his hair, stab it, brutalize it. The same things he wanted to do to himself. But couldn't. Oh, no one could. His body was hard like marble. Unlovable- he resembled his father, with that red tint in his eyes...bloodthirsty freak.

He'd hide and never return. He would become a bad memory. He wouldn't hurt anyone again. Wouldn't make anyone feel guilty for loving him, a monster, a killer, not let Mark see him this way, let Mark forget him and never force himself to...

Alistair slammed the bathroom door behind him, made his way out of the gas station swiftly, hood up, face down. Ran a few miles and barely felt it. 

Still found another poster. HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? With a photo of himself, front and center. He tore it from the message board and shoved it in his pocket.

No, soon he'd be forgotten, and it'd be better for everyone. His mother wouldn't have to worry about him. His father, well...his father never cared in the first place.

Mark would replace him with someone else, William or Amber or Eve or what have him- and they'd be in peace without Alistair around...well, it sounded much better to him already.

But then he felt an...aching.

Oh, there was something he'd forgotten at home...something he shouldn't be without. It would be a huge risk going back now, when he could simply continue running off, but...maybe the trip would help him solidify this decision. To run away. 

He decided he'd go back. Just for the night. Take his things, and without the memory of him there, he'd truly be forgotten. Fade into nothingness, just another cold case, unsolved...

He'd make sure Mark was doing okay without him, and then he'd be happy leaving.

Yes, that would be fine.

The last time Alistair was at school, he spoke to no one. He sat near the edge of the cafeteria, in a solitary dark corner, sitting casually and watching his fellow students mingle. They walked past him without as much as a glance. He was a shadow, going unseen and unnoticed, even by those he loved most, by those whom he thought loved him just as much. 

He watched Mark and William sit across from each other and talk. Mark was scrolling on his phone, didn't seem as interested. William was going on about something. Alistair wondered if they thought about him. If they'd wonder how he was doing. Slowly, he rose from his seat and walked out of the cafeteria. He ditched the rest of his classes for the day. 

He wasn't at school for the rest of the week. The school called his mother, who had run up the stairs of their home, calling her son's name- Alistair Roslyn Whitlock!- but when she threw open his room door, she was met with nothing. She called his friends' parents, called the school again, called the library he frequented. Alistair was nowhere to be found.

"Oh!- Sorry!" The man chuckled lightly as he glanced at the young boy beside him. He adjusted his hood, shivering lightly. "Couldn't see you, with the rain and all? Aren't you cold, son?"

"I'm fine, sir," the boy spoke, voice flat and dead.

That was the last time anyone saw Alistair alive.