sealrat (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sealrat) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2017-01-28 11:28 am
sealrat) wrote in fandomweekly2017-01-28 11:28 am
Entry tags:
[#030] More Than a Weapon (Original)
Theme Prompt: #030 - Redemption
Title: More Than a Weapon
Fandom: Original universe
Rating/Warnings: PG; Mentions of murder
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 973
Summary: It's been a few months since Devin joined the hunters, and there's a problem developing.
“You’re looking exceptionally sullen this evening,” Sam remarked as he entered the small dining area. It was past one in the morning, and the only other person in the room was Devin.
“It’s not evening,” the vampire corrected. He’d poured himself some bourbon and was swirling it around in a tumbler, pointedly not looking up. The bottle was next to him, waiting to refill Devin’s glass.
“I see you’re not arguing about appearing sullen, at least,” the other man observed, sitting across from him. “You know James will be pissed if he finds out you’ve been drinking his bourbon. More so if you drink all of it.”
“I am fully cognizant of that, doctor; thank you for the unnecessary reminder,” Devin grumbled. The slightest crease appeared at Sam’s brow. “What?”
“You’re doing it on purpose. You want to piss him off.” Devin remained silent, staring into his glass. “Why, Devin? You know he’ll try to get in a fight with you.”
“Let him. He can’t win. If he decides to start throwing punches, that’s his mistake.”
“And yet you’re baiting him,” Sam countered. “Why? And don’t try to keep evading, you’ve learned by now that doesn’t work on me.” The vampire sighed. He hadn’t looked up from his drink even once. “Silence doesn’t work, either.”
“I could get up and leave.”
“You could. You haven’t.”
“Why do you care, Samuel? I’m a murderer; you have far better things to waste your time on than someone like me. It’s late, and you should be asleep,” Devin replied, pouring himself more liquor.
“Stop, Devin. Just stop.” The doctor leaned forward on his elbows. “I’m here. I’m not leaving, and apparently neither are you. Why are you trying to get James to go off on you?”
Sam waited. And waited. And continued to wait for what must have been close to five minutes before Devin finally flicked his gaze up briefly. “He’s starting to like me. Or at least despise me less.”
The doctor blinked at him for several seconds. “And that’s a problem because…?”
“I’m not here to make friends.” Sam raised an eyebrow, confused still. “I’m here because we share a common goal; I’m a bastard and should be treated as such. I told you that from the start.”
“And I didn’t believe it from the start, so maybe you can try that again?” The vampire just shook his head and took a long pull at his drink. When silence descended for the fourth time, Sam reached across the table to cover Devin’s hand around the glass with his own. “Is this because I’m starting to like you, too? Or because you’re starting to like us?”
The vampire met Sam’s eyes now, glaring coldly at him, but the doctor didn’t miss the pain there. He yanked his hand back and slammed the glass down. Some of the bourbon leapt over the rim, splashing onto the chipped laminate tabletop, and Devin was already on his feet.
Rather than storm off, however, he just turned his back to Sam with his arms folded across his chest. “I don’t deserve this.”
“I’m… not sure I follow.”
“This, Sam, this whole damn thing,” Devin snapped, gesturing to the room and by extension the hunter’s headquarters. “The tolerance, the laughter, the midnight psych session. None of it.”
“I’m going to set aside my argument for now so I can ask you why again,” Sam said gently. He wanted to get up after Devin, but that didn’t seem wise. Devin had never seemed to care about personal space except when he allowed something other than the usual smug facade to show through.
“I have killed thousands of people, Sam. Vampires and humans, though God quite literally knows I’ve tried to spare those living souls where I could. I lost track decades ago,” Devin said, barely audible. “I gave up the right to the kindness you keep insisting on showing me well before you were born.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I would very much appreciate it if you would stop.”
“No.” Devin turned with surprise. “You don’t get to decide who likes you and who doesn’t, and you certainly don’t get to tell me to stop caring,” Sam argued. “So no, I won’t stop.”
“I am not worth the inevitable pain I would cause you, Sam,” Devin growled, tension rippling across his shoulders. “I am not worth anything to anyone except for my phenomenal ability to kill.”
“You’re wrong,” Sam returned evenly. “You’re not just a weapon. You’re more than the carnage you’ve left behind. I don’t think of you like that. I never have.”
When next Devin spoke, his tone was enough to make chills race down Sam’s spine, a visceral reminder that he was face to face with the world’s most dangerous predator. “You should. You all should. I am beyond saving, Samuel. I cannot be redeemed. Stop trying.”
The doctor stood calmly, his expression carefully neutral; but when he came around to stand in front of Devin, the vampire could see the concern. He didn’t want to see that; he would much rather see hatred there. Hatred was easy to deal with. Concern was a knife to the heart just waiting to happen.
Sam didn’t let the icy glare perturb him, offering Devin a small, sad smile. Disregarding the implied threat Devin was trying to make with his eyes, Sam rested his hand on Devin’s folded arms for a moment. “No, Devin. I won’t. I am not afraid of you.” The smile quirked to something a little more wry. “So, stop trying. And it’s a one-in-the-morning psych session, not a midnight one. Very different circumstances.”
Without another word, Sam walked out of the room, leaving Devin to stare, uncomprehending, at his retreating back.
Title: More Than a Weapon
Fandom: Original universe
Rating/Warnings: PG; Mentions of murder
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 973
Summary: It's been a few months since Devin joined the hunters, and there's a problem developing.
“You’re looking exceptionally sullen this evening,” Sam remarked as he entered the small dining area. It was past one in the morning, and the only other person in the room was Devin.
“It’s not evening,” the vampire corrected. He’d poured himself some bourbon and was swirling it around in a tumbler, pointedly not looking up. The bottle was next to him, waiting to refill Devin’s glass.
“I see you’re not arguing about appearing sullen, at least,” the other man observed, sitting across from him. “You know James will be pissed if he finds out you’ve been drinking his bourbon. More so if you drink all of it.”
“I am fully cognizant of that, doctor; thank you for the unnecessary reminder,” Devin grumbled. The slightest crease appeared at Sam’s brow. “What?”
“You’re doing it on purpose. You want to piss him off.” Devin remained silent, staring into his glass. “Why, Devin? You know he’ll try to get in a fight with you.”
“Let him. He can’t win. If he decides to start throwing punches, that’s his mistake.”
“And yet you’re baiting him,” Sam countered. “Why? And don’t try to keep evading, you’ve learned by now that doesn’t work on me.” The vampire sighed. He hadn’t looked up from his drink even once. “Silence doesn’t work, either.”
“I could get up and leave.”
“You could. You haven’t.”
“Why do you care, Samuel? I’m a murderer; you have far better things to waste your time on than someone like me. It’s late, and you should be asleep,” Devin replied, pouring himself more liquor.
“Stop, Devin. Just stop.” The doctor leaned forward on his elbows. “I’m here. I’m not leaving, and apparently neither are you. Why are you trying to get James to go off on you?”
Sam waited. And waited. And continued to wait for what must have been close to five minutes before Devin finally flicked his gaze up briefly. “He’s starting to like me. Or at least despise me less.”
The doctor blinked at him for several seconds. “And that’s a problem because…?”
“I’m not here to make friends.” Sam raised an eyebrow, confused still. “I’m here because we share a common goal; I’m a bastard and should be treated as such. I told you that from the start.”
“And I didn’t believe it from the start, so maybe you can try that again?” The vampire just shook his head and took a long pull at his drink. When silence descended for the fourth time, Sam reached across the table to cover Devin’s hand around the glass with his own. “Is this because I’m starting to like you, too? Or because you’re starting to like us?”
The vampire met Sam’s eyes now, glaring coldly at him, but the doctor didn’t miss the pain there. He yanked his hand back and slammed the glass down. Some of the bourbon leapt over the rim, splashing onto the chipped laminate tabletop, and Devin was already on his feet.
Rather than storm off, however, he just turned his back to Sam with his arms folded across his chest. “I don’t deserve this.”
“I’m… not sure I follow.”
“This, Sam, this whole damn thing,” Devin snapped, gesturing to the room and by extension the hunter’s headquarters. “The tolerance, the laughter, the midnight psych session. None of it.”
“I’m going to set aside my argument for now so I can ask you why again,” Sam said gently. He wanted to get up after Devin, but that didn’t seem wise. Devin had never seemed to care about personal space except when he allowed something other than the usual smug facade to show through.
“I have killed thousands of people, Sam. Vampires and humans, though God quite literally knows I’ve tried to spare those living souls where I could. I lost track decades ago,” Devin said, barely audible. “I gave up the right to the kindness you keep insisting on showing me well before you were born.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I would very much appreciate it if you would stop.”
“No.” Devin turned with surprise. “You don’t get to decide who likes you and who doesn’t, and you certainly don’t get to tell me to stop caring,” Sam argued. “So no, I won’t stop.”
“I am not worth the inevitable pain I would cause you, Sam,” Devin growled, tension rippling across his shoulders. “I am not worth anything to anyone except for my phenomenal ability to kill.”
“You’re wrong,” Sam returned evenly. “You’re not just a weapon. You’re more than the carnage you’ve left behind. I don’t think of you like that. I never have.”
When next Devin spoke, his tone was enough to make chills race down Sam’s spine, a visceral reminder that he was face to face with the world’s most dangerous predator. “You should. You all should. I am beyond saving, Samuel. I cannot be redeemed. Stop trying.”
The doctor stood calmly, his expression carefully neutral; but when he came around to stand in front of Devin, the vampire could see the concern. He didn’t want to see that; he would much rather see hatred there. Hatred was easy to deal with. Concern was a knife to the heart just waiting to happen.
Sam didn’t let the icy glare perturb him, offering Devin a small, sad smile. Disregarding the implied threat Devin was trying to make with his eyes, Sam rested his hand on Devin’s folded arms for a moment. “No, Devin. I won’t. I am not afraid of you.” The smile quirked to something a little more wry. “So, stop trying. And it’s a one-in-the-morning psych session, not a midnight one. Very different circumstances.”
Without another word, Sam walked out of the room, leaving Devin to stare, uncomprehending, at his retreating back.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject