#general miscommunication

He looked down at himself. He definitely hadn’t dreamed or hallucinated the previous night’s events. His shirt was slit open. Too bad, really, because he liked that shirt. He raised a hand to feel the bloodstained fabric, then the skin underneath it.

The wound was gone.

The wound was gone.

That wound should have killed him. It had been long and deep, and he had been losing far too much blood from it. And it definitely had been there; the damage to his shirt was proof enough.

His calloused fingers caught on something, and he hissed in pain. Looking closer, he could see a slight silvery scar running across his chest—

Right where the wound had been.

He looked down at the scar, dumbfounded. How was that possible? He racked his brain for anything that could have caused it. The knife that had cut him certainly wasn’t to thank for his healing. The owner of it had most definitely wanted him dead—highly doubtful one would use a magical knife that heals wounds on such an expedition. And he hadn’t even made it to his supplies, not that he had anything that could do this. He had collapsed, and then the vampire—

The vampire. Of course.

Tobias was just going to assume it was the blood loss that made him not realize how obvious the answer was.

He’d seen vampire victims’ scars before. If a vampire got a taste for a human in particular, it might bring that human along as a tasty snack for the road. Said human would eventually acquire layer upon layer of faint silver scars over all their juicy pulse points. The vampire would seal up its bite marks after it finished feeding as a way of keeping its meal fresh and bringing it along with them.

Tobias hadn’t known it worked for wounds other than ones that vampires caused, though.

He let out a groan as he sat up. His wounds might be closed up, but he was still feeling the after-effects of the fight. He would need to rest up before taking any more jobs. This job had been enough of a hassle; he wasn’t keen to take another one on so soon.

He turned around, taking stock of the camp. He was sitting in a patch of late morning sunlight. Both horses were still where he had left them, grazing contentedly by the stream. His bedroll was just where it had been before he left to take care of the hired thugs. And the vampire…

The vampire was curled into a tiny ball, protected from the sun by the shadow of the tree he had tied it to.

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. He was not nearly drunk enough to deal with this situation. Tobias got up with a groan and walked over to the horses, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with the sensation of eyes watching him.

Definitely not drunk enough to deal with this situation.

He rummaged through the horses’ saddlebags and came up with a waterskin. He drank greedily from it. Despite how much he wanted to get drunk, he knew that alcohol wouldn’t help him heal after that fight.

He emptied the waterskin, then refilled it from the stream. That was as much fortification as he would be able to get before facing the situation.

The ‘situation’ being the vampire that had apparently saved his life.

Tobias walked over to the tree and sat down. He made sure that he was sitting entirely in the sunlight, just outside the shadow where the vampire hid. It had done its chameleon act again. In the light of day, it once again looked like a scared waif rather than a fearsome predator. That didn’t change his memory of it stalking towards him, eyes wide and fangs bared.

Up close, he could see that the vampire wasn’t just curled into a protective ball. No, it was in a very specific kind of position. It had kneeled so that its ass rested on its heels, then leaned forward until its forehead touched its hands where they rested in the grass. It was a strangely penitent pose, like a worshipper trying to placate an angry god.

He saw how the position exposed the creature’s entire back, the same back covered in weeping blisters and raw flesh and ragged cuts. The pose could be a worshipper praying to appease their god.

Or it could be a sacrifice offering itself up for punishment.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face again. He had no idea how to deal with this- this paradox. This creature should have been trying to rip his throat out. It should have killed him last night, or lashed out at any of the numerous openings he had undoubtedly given it.

“Why is nothing simple,” he groaned.

The vampire made no reply. He thought he saw its head turn towards him, though. It was definitely shaking. Fine tremors traveled through its arms and down its back as though it were trying to remain still, but struggling.

It was terrified of him, he realized abruptly. He was the angry god it was trying to appease, the divine instrument of justice here to mete out its punishment.

“Will you— just sit up, will you?” he said. It came out harsher than he intended. Reexamining his view of the world and its fundamental truths was making him short-tempered.

Vampires were supposed to be predators. They were at the top of the food chain, the most dangerous beast. They stalked the night and called it home, and humans cowered in fear before them. They were supposed to hunt humans.

Except for how this one didn’t. It was throwing all the rules out the window, switching all the roles around. It made Tobias feel like the foundations of his world had turned from solid rock to shifting sand, and he didn’t care for the feeling.

Its scramble to comply with his order didn’t make him feel any better, though. Neither did its wide and wild eyes, or the muzzle that had been clumsily and tightly fastened on its head.

“Jesus, did you put that on yourself?” he asked incredulously.

The vampire lowered its head and nodded.

“Ugh, that’s not— I’m not mad, okay?” he said, startling the thing into raising its head again. Its eyes looked better today; clearer, less hazy. He had a hunch. “Can you look at me, please?”

Slowly, reluctantly, it turned to look at him. It wouldn’t meet his eyes, but it was definitely looking at him, rather than just near him. It looked like his blood had healed the creature’s eyes, at least somewhat.

Interesting. But not what he needed to focus on.

“First of all,” he began, then had to pause and take a breath to collect his thoughts. “Thank you.”

It startled at that, violently enough that it almost fell over. Tobias almost laughed, until he used enough brain cells to realize what that meant about the vampire’s past.That sobered him up quickly.

“Truly,” he continued. “I would have died last night if not for you. Thank you for saving me.”

It dipped its head in a gesture that seemed equal parts acceptance and refusal.

“Why, though?” he asked.

Its head snapped up again, looking straight at him. It didn’t even seem like it was breathing. The stare was intense and unnerving.

And the thing was still wearing the fucking muzzle. Idiot, he chastised himself. It can’t exactly talk to him with that thing on.

“Right, you can’t talk with that on,” he said, discomfort at the situation making him fidget.

He was the one who had left the muzzle on it in the first place. It seemed like a good precaution at the time; he didn’t know the vampire, only that it was starved and injured, and he had no desire to get bitten. And it wasn’t like he had put it on cruelly; he had even loosened the straps so the muzzle fit properly!

So why did seeing it with the muzzle on again make him so uncomfortable?

He took a closer look at the straps. The vampire’s mangled hands must have had trouble taking it off, and even more trouble putting it back on. The muzzle looked like every single strap now had hair caught in them, and all were far tighter than he had fastened them.

“That can’t feel very good,” he said.

The vampire cautiously shook its head, using minute little movements that let it keep its eyes on him the whole time.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Tobias said. “Can I take it off?”

Whatever response he expected from that question, it wasn’t the one he got. The vampire moved faster than his eyes could catch. One moment it was kneeling in front of him; the next, it was pressed back into the tree like it was trying to merge with the bark. Its legs were drawn up in front of itself, and its head was pressed to its knees and covered by its arms.

It looked like nothing so much as a scared child, trying to hide from the monsters that lurk in the dark.

“Woah, hey, take it easy,” he said, trying to figure out just why it reacted like that. “I’m not mad, remember? I just want to be able to talk with you.”

It shook its head, the movement visible from its protective ball only because of the vehemence of it. It was letting out a high, thin whine.

“You… don’t want to talk?” he hazarded a guess.

It shook its head again.

“Okay…” he said slowly.

That was going to make this process a lot more difficult. But if that reaction was what he could expect from trying to make the vampire talk? Playing a game of 20 Questions was far preferable.

Tobias sighed. “Okay. That’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

It cautiously raised its head, big dark eyes peering at him.

“Really,” he said, trying to reassure it. “I’m not going to make you talk. I won’t even take off the muzzle, if that’s how you feel more comfortable.”

It raised its head a little more, letting its arms drop from their protective stance.

“Can I at least loosen it a little, though?” he asked, hoping this question wouldn’t send it back into its huddle. “Like I said, it can’t feel very good. You had trouble putting it back on, right? Got your hair caught in it? I can at least fix that for you.”

The vampire tensed, but didn’t retreat. Slowly, eyes always on him, it nodded.

“Okay then. I’m going to come closer now, alright?” he said, remembering to give it ample warning of his movements.

He shuffled over to kneel beside the creature in the shadow. It was holding itself so tense that it was shaking with the effort, but it stayed still.

“Good job,” he said as he carefully loosened the first strap and removed the hair caught in it. The vampire’s hair was long, and was probably pretty once. Now, it was a mess of snarls and tangles. “You’re doing great, thanks for staying still for me.”

He redid the other straps in the same way. He made sure to keep his hands gentle and his movements slow, and praised the creature the whole time.

The muzzle was as gentle as Tobias could make it. Task done, he sat back, once again leaving ample space between himself and the vampire.

This time, it wasn’t for his peace of mind. No, it was for the creature’s.