#tvvt

Worsties 4 ever

Time blurred and dragged, the only constant the steady triple beat of his heart, pounding away. It made the stake in his chest throb, but without it he'd have lost track of time completely.

Not that sluggishly counting them told him how long he'd been lying here, staring at the ceiling.

Eventually his mind wandered away from the count and spiraled towards why he was here at all. The panic had faded some time ago, after it became too hard to keep hold of it, and the small part of him calling for Ford to save him like a dumb kid followed shortly after.

That just left him with himself, and his jumbled feelings towards Bill.

It was stupid to have followed him, except Bill had never hurt him before. Not intentionally.

(And really, Stan wasn't actually hurt, was he? Sure there was a gap in his chest and a chunk of wood all the way through to the floor but the pain was duller than a bullet and the light was on and the blanket was soft and it didn't hurt didnt hurt didnthurtdidnthurtdidnt-)

It was usually Stan's stupid feelings that took the brunt of it. Too childish and sensitive.

Friends had crushes, didn't they? It was normal for your friends to prioritize their romantic relationships.

(They weren't human. Bill wasn't human hadn't been for longer than written history maybe and maybe he just forgot or this was normal for vampires because if it wasn't, if Bill had slammed a stake through his chest and-)

There just hadn't been any friends in his life to learn that before, not really.

First it was Ford, and his brothers attention had been taken by school instead of girls.

Then it was the guys on the street. Gangs and drug dealers, and they weren't so much his friends as people who weren't actively trying to kill him.

Then Bill.

Bill, who pulled Stan out of the lifestyle that had killed him.

Bill, who let Stan live in his fantasy about being human.

Bill, who took care of Stan and hung out with him, who laughed at his jokes and actually listened to him.

(Bill, who drove a stake through his heart with a smile and broke into his room and drained him dry and ditched Stan without a word whenever he wanted but why wouldn't he Stan was Stan was no one and Bill had work and he should be grateful Bill even-)

He shouldnt have gotten upset.

Shouldn't have tried to run.

He got too spoiled with Ford actually pretending to care after all this time and almost a year of having real, actual friends.

Thought he was better than he was, when he was already getting more than he deserved.

Should have been happy with what Bill gave him.

(It was more than he was worth and Bill had wanted him and all Stan wanted was for someone to want and who was he to be picky about-)

Now he was stuck, because he got too ahead of himself and-and-

And he wanted out.

Wanted to move and stretch and eat and drink and drinkanddrinkanddrinkand-

Below the gaping abyss of his chest was a bottomless pit where his stomach was and even though he couldn't so much as twitch he was certain it was burning through him. Every thud made his throat crack as it dried out.

Bill blood taunted him, so close and so far and he was so hungry.

How long had it been? How long did Bill say until he returned? It had to have been two weeks already, right?

Bill wouldn't forget him, he wouldn't, he said-

All of him ached and was too stiff and too dry. He raged and shouted and snarled and begged and willed himself to throw off the blanket, rip out the stake, and find the closest snack.

It didn't matter who, all that mattered was that they were cool and dead. The burning spread and filled him, making him feel like a desert.

Too hot.

Too dry.

Too bright.

He couldn't close his eyes anymore, and the light and musty air made him dry out further.

Where was Bill?

Where was he?

When would he be here? How long? When?

Whenwhenwhenwhenwhenwhenthirtsythistythirsty-

He wanted out.

He wanted Ford.

Bill grinned as listened to the steady beat of Stan's heart through the door. It was weaker than it usually was, but it still made his mouth water.

He didn't open the door though, not yet.

It had only been a week after all, and Bill promised Stan two.

The last one had been spent planning a boys night, and this next one he'd use to scrounge up something for Stan to eat once Bill removed the stake. It had taken a whole town to take the edge of off Bill thirst when Ford had freed him, and another one to shake off the ache in his joints, but Stan would probably only need five or six vampires.

Bill got seven, just to be safe.

Unlike Stan they didn't follow him nice and neatly into the basement. Bill had to drag them one at a time into the hall and compel them to stand single file against the wall. The ones with enough will to struggle shot him panicked looks, and he smiled at them when he finally made his way to the doors.

"Alright snacks, let's get this show on the road!"

The snacks didn't answer, being snacks and all, and Bill threw the doors open with a flourish. Stan was exactly as he left him, snug and cozy, with a few blue lines creeping up the side of his face and a puddle of blood oozing out from below.

Whoops.

He'd forgotten to take his friends heartbeat into consideration. Poor Stan was probably much, much thirtstier than a normal vampire would be.

Well, if he was still hungry after the snacks Bill had brought him, they could clear out a few of the lack luster servants. Maybe some of the lower ranks guarding the garage.

"Rise and shine!" Bill called out, waving for the snacks to file in and stand against the far wall, "Hope you had a good break Stansy, because it's time to get back to it!"

Stan didn't respond, but that was to be expected. Carefully walking around the puddle of blood, Bill leaned over the side of the coffin and smiled at his best friend. Stan's front was stained with dark, delicious smelling blood, and the blanket stuck in dried out clumps when Bill pulled it away. Bill looked at it for a moment, before tossing it onto the floor and grabbing the top of the stake.

"Got you a nice wake up snack," Bill told him, as he twisted the stake loose, "but if you're still hungry after let me know."

Each jerk of the stake ground against Stan's ribs and made an funny squelching sound. He hadn't been there long enough to dry out, so even though he'd lost most of the blood in his body his innards were still fairly moist. The skin of Stan's face was also paler, and his eyes were dull. The blood dribbled across his face and imprinted from Bills lips had long sense dried, but Bill paused to lick his thumb and wipe it off anyways

Stan didn't so much as twitch, but that was expected too. He wouldn't be able to so much as peep until the stake was all the way out, and Bill wasn't dumb enough to be the one to do it.

With a quick tug he felt it pull out of the ground. He let go and took a few steps back, then waved at the vampire with the blankest eyes to do the rest. They jerked into motion, and for every step closer Bill took two back, until he was back at the entrance. Once their hands were around the base Bill grabbed the doors, shooting all the snacks a wide grin when it was yanked out.

"Have fun, knock when you're finished!"

In one smooth motion Bill pulled the doors closed and let go of the mental grip he had on all the vampire minds. He got a glimpse of Stan's arm grabbing the arm of the vampire holding the stake, saw the rest slump due to their sudden control, before the doors slammed shut and the screaming started.

Unlike Bill and most vampires, Stan wasn't built to chase his prey down, and his vampiric powers reflected that. He was much weaker than even the weakest of Bills subordinates, wasn't any faster than the average human, couldn't fly, couldn't transform into anything that could give chase, and couldn't do even the most basic of spells other vampire lords boasted (not that Bill had really tried teaching him).

But that didn't matter here, when Stan was hungry enough to push his body past its natural limit, in a closed space with no escape. As Bill listened the screaming voices stopped one by one, replaced by whimpers as Stan's paralyzing bite dropped anything too flighty. Some of them banged on the doors, but Bill held them closed, grin widening at their begging, before they screamed and went silent.

A human wouldn't be able to do more than imagine what was happening on the other side, but Bill wasn't and so didn't.

He could hear Stan drink desperately, heard the empty snack drop, then Stan's feet as he stumbled to the next one.

Could hear his luring heart, thudding louder and louder.

A couple snacks were whimpering in the corners, probably hoping to avoid notice, but as more and more bodies dropped, and the drinking became less frantic and more deep, even they disappeared.

Only when the pounding thud on the other side faded did Bill relax his grip on the doors. Stan's breathing faded after, a habit he still held on from life. Something scuffed the floor, Stan turning, then footsteps, and-

Knock knock knock.

"Who is it~" Bill chirped, grin spreading wider when Stan let out a huff of air.

"Bill."

"Bill? That can't be right, after all-"

"Bill, can we-" another deep sigh, "can we not do this right now?"

"Ugh, fine." Bill pushed the doors open with a pout to reveal Stan, front drenched in blood, a hole in his shirt where the stake had been, and a nice healed chest exposed to the basement air. The blue lines were gone, and Stan's color was much better, eyes a glistening brown.

Looks like seven was just enough after all.

"Someone's not an evening person." Stan ignored his comment, stumbling closer and pulling Bill into a blood smearing hug,"gross, do you know-"

"Sorry," Stan muttered, "sorry I- I wasn't thinkin'. I shouldn've tried to book it."

Bill rolled his eyes. Of course he wasn't thinking, that's what Bill was for.

"Hey, water under the bridge! Now let go, you're coating me in leftovers." Stan let go, leaving a huge red stain on Bills nice clean clothes.

Ugh. Well, whatever.

"Glad that nap helped," Bill said, hooking an arm through Stan's and leading them back towards the upper levels, "who knows what could have happened if I hadn't stepped in."

"Yeah," Stan croaked. Bill shook his head and smirked at the way his friend was moving, like each step was a battle in figuring out how legs worked. Shaking off the stake stiffness was never fun, but that's why he'd planned a whole weekend about it.

Starting with a bath.

Any underlings who crossed their path was quick to scramble out of the way with a bow. Some of the eager ones even started cleaning up the mess Stan left in his wake, and Bill took note of their faces as they dropped and started scrubbing.

Always good to have servants who could clean up Stan's meals without a fuss on hand.

The whole trip to Stan's room was filled with Bill catching him up with everything he missed, as well as what they'd be doing together. It was a nice combination of fun activities and ways to help Stan get his mind and body going. Stan clung to him like a life line, eyes locked locked on Bills face. It made him want to puff up and drag Stan around, show off how much Stan leaned on him, how much Stan depended on him.

How much Stan was his.

His friend. His shiny new vampire lord. His to use, his to help.

And sure, he wasn't Ford, was the knock off version of something already perfect, but that didn't matter.