A/N: I have absolutely no idea where this idea came from. It just floated into my head, and WHAM! I was typing like a mad person. (sweatdrops) These plotbunnies seriously freak me out sometimes…
WARNINGS: SLASH, weirdness, vampire-stuff… (blinks) Why are you all running away?
DISCLAIMER: Oh, please…! I don't even have my own car. How could I ever own a whole TV-series…? (sighs with mild depression)
Awkay… (takes a deep breath) I'm an inch from changing my mind about sending this, so I'll get down to it before that happens. (gulps) I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride!
La Morte Amoureuse
'The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.'
Few people have a photographic memory, but some moments get stuck into our heads like some kind of a movie. Its unfortunate that most of those moments are unpleasant ones. In Derek Morgan's case that happened when his team moved to arrest a suspect that rainy day of autumn.
It hit him like a sledgehammer how right behind his back a gun was fired. How someone hit the floor heavily – someone that wasn't him. His body moving on its own he turned, and the sight he found burned its mark into his mind's eyes like acid.
Dr. Spencer Reid – his lover for five months, his best friend, his whole damn world – had fallen to the floor. There was a bullet hole on the genius' chest.
Derek didn't remember who finally took down the suspect – in full honesty he didn't even care. Because just as he'd moved to approach his boyfriend all he could see was how Spencer got up, gasping a little but otherwise completely unharmed. With a tiny, feeble smile on his face the brunet explained that for once luck was on his side when he'd chosen to wear a kevlar west.
Those words sucked all breath from Derek's lungs, and suddenly nothing in the world made sense anymore.
He'd… touched Spencer, just before they left the local police station. And he knew for a fact that the younger man had not been wearing a vest of any sort.
Exactly one second later Spencer looked at him, directly to his eyes. At that moment they both seemed to understand that things would never be the same again.
Four hours later Spencer's apartment was quiet as Derek sat on the younger man's bed, his face buried into his hands. Somewhere behind the bedroom's closed door Clooney was walking around restlessly, as though sensing his master's distress.
"You'll have to speak eventually, if you came over to talk", Spencer pointed out nervously.
Derek swallowed and looked up slowly. And suddenly the words he'd been struggling to find were the easiest that'd ever come out of his mouth. "I know, that you weren't wearing a vest today. And I… I fucking saw you get shot in the chest. So how…?" He just couldn't voice the rest, but he knew that it was nonetheless audible.
Spencer stared at him incredulously for a while before finally speaking, the man's voice filled with quite open disbelief. "So… You walk over here, through pouring rain, just to ask me that?"
Derek's eyes narrowed slightly, sending a crystal clear message. "Just answer the question, will you?" His voice was a bit sharper than he'd hoped, but there was no undoing it now.
Spencer took a long, uneven breath, his eyes darting around restlessly. Clearly there was something huge coming out. "I… I really, really shouldn't tell you this. I'm not allowed to tell you this, but…" The man trailed off.
Derek frowned, starting to lose his usually little amount of patience. "Tell me what? You're starting to freak me out here."
Spencer swallowed thickly, the brunet's entire body starting to shake. The younger man's brown eyes were almost pleading when they met his. "What… What would you say, if I told you that I'm… a bit less than human? What would you think of me?"
This time it was Derek's turn to dart a weird look at his lover. It took a mighty moment before he managed to speak. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you honestly telling me that you're a werewolf, a vampire or something like that?" It wasn't hard to detect the flash in Spencer's eyes when he voiced a certain word. He snorted, the sound shaky and feeble. "Oh, for the love of…! Stop trying to fuck with me, will you? Don't give me crap. Vampires don't exist, Spencer."
Spencer grit his teeth, so hard that Derek heard a sickening sound. "Do you need proof?" The brunet nodded, mostly to himself. "Fine. I'll give you proof." The man nodded towards one of the kitchen cabinets. "Do you… Do you remember that long knife, that you sharpened the other day? Give it to me."
Derek mused that he was most likely insane, but nonetheless his feet carried him to kitchen. In a matter of moments he returned with the knife, feeling uncomfortable stinging underneath his skin. "What… are you doing?" Before he could do a thing the knife had been snatched from him – and Spencer's steady hand held it straight above the brunet's wrist. His eyes widened while burning hot panic spun through his veins. "What the hell are you doing? Don't you dare…!"
His warning was, however, long overdue. With one swift motion that held no hesitation Spencer cut deep down, and in less than seconds blood was flowing.
Derek had never, ever felt the kind of panic he did then. It rooted him to the spot, paralyzed absolutely everything inside him. Spencer, however, appeared perfectly calm while watching the dark red droplets making their way down the skin of his arm.
It only continued for about five or six horrifying seconds, until the bleeding first began to slow, then stopped completely. Spencer's eyes flashed while he licked the spot he'd just cut, revealing nothing but a small, neat mark on the skin. "I do bleed, just not the way you do. And most things that harm human beings have affect on me. But I heal… fast." The man looked at him with eyes he didn't recognize. "And just so you know… It's a myth, that vampires wouldn't be able to walk in daylight. Sunlight weakens us, even hurts, but it doesn't kill. How would we ever be able to live seemingly normal lives if it did?"
Derek could only stare, his body having reverted into a state of shock.
This… couldn't be real. Just couldn't. Spencer wasn't, couldn't be…!
It took at least a minute before he managed to speak, and when he did the words weren't the ones he'd expected. "What… are you going to do to me? Now that I know?"
Spencer was silent for a moment. He could've sworn he saw a flash of pain and sorrow on the vampire's face. "According to the rules I should kill you. But… Maybe I can break the rules, just this once…"
Derek barely understood what was happening until he'd already fallen to the bed, right underneath Spencer. His heartbeat grew much faster than before – with need, pleasure and maybe even fear – while Spencer worked on his pants, lowering them.
Although they'd been a couple for several months they'd never gone all the way before, out of Spencer's request. Before Derek had thought the other man had been considerate due to his past, but now… Now, with all the animalistic lust hanging thickly in the air, he knew better.
He'd never faced anything like this before.
White fangs were revealed to him as ecstasy took over, but they vanished once more as fast as they'd appeared. "Now, do you believe? Do you finally understand?" Spencer all but hissed at his ear, in a voice he'd never heard before. A violent shiver went through his body, and in a couple of moments absolutely all his self control was lost. The brunet's breath ghosted on his skin, dangerous and alluring. The vampire shuddered when his hold tightened, became demanding. "Do you understand, why we can never, ever go all the way? We'd lose all control. And when control is lost… It becomes dangerous."
It wasn't until then Derek sensed the pain, and emitted a small hiss. Assessing the damage he grimaced when noticing the deep, bleeding gashes Spencer's claws had made to his sides.
Spencer's eyes were very serious and much darker than usual when Derek finally looked at them – actually, in the lack of light the shade was close to the deepest red. "I want to do things to you, that go far beyond that. Because, right now… Right now your heartbeat and the rush of your blood are the only things I hear. I smell your blood, and…" The brunet licked his lips, and Derek could feel the genius' back arch as the unsatisfied need began to drive the vampire insane. He could've sworn he saw a flash of fangs. "I… I want to consume all of you, Derek. I want all of you."
Derek's heart began to hammer for several reasons and his head was spinning dangerously while his hold on Spencer's lithe form kept tightening. He couldn't understand how the brunet could feel so cold to his touch when everything inside him was burning up. "Then take it", he snarled through tightly grit teeth, adrenaline storming inside his veins. His pupils most likely dilated when he took a firm, nearly painful hold of Spencer's head and pulled the vampire's face closer. "Don't you get it? You've already got me. So fucking claim me already."
At that moment he was sure Spencer's eyes turned red. And then nothing made sense to him anymore.
Spencer's ministrations were shockingly savage while the vampire tore him from the last of his clothes, finally settling himself so that the brunet's most private parts were pressed against his lower stomach. The vampire emitted a sound he couldn't identify while leaning closer, so close to his neck that Derek emitted a tiny, unwilling gasp and shuddered.
But Spencer didn't bite, instead growled in a way that couldn't possibly be called human. Through the turmoil inside his head Derek barely heard the huskily snarled out words. "Then show me what there is to take. Make me feel it."
Derek didn't have to be told twice. He barked out with a inner inferno that was threatening to set him on fire, and attacked the vampire. For a while they fought over dominance – Spencer's vampire nature and his need of control clashing with breathtaking force – but in the end he had the brunet below him, pinned from wrists. Spencer's still red eyes smouldered while the man stared at him intensely, visibly attempting to read his mind.
Unlike most probably assumed, usually Derek was a considerate, even tender lover. But that night… That night all rules and limitations were off. That night he allowed the animal inside him to take over completely.
Derek unleashed a small howl of ecstasy and something far darker while he thrust himself into Spencer, with such force he was stunned nothing became torn. Spencer growled in response, rage flashing momentarily in the vampire's eyes, and made Derek growl once more when clawing his way to the mocha-shaded skin of his back. But the pain, or even the feel of seeping blood, couldn't stop Derek, not when the storm had broken loose.
He howled even louder than before, this time with such aggression that made the vampire below him shiver with visible delight, and thrust himself into Spencer, over and over again. Spencer arched, hissed and groaned under his handling.
And then, completely without a warning, Derek felt Spencer's fangs against his neck, just as he was once more inside the vampire. His heart lost its already unstable rhythm, and he could've sworn it even stopped for a moment as he waited how the situation was going to progress.
Spencer first sighed and growled, then emitted a strange, chirping sound while caressing the still undamaged skin of his neck. Then, mere seconds later, the vampire pulled further, closed his eyes and arched his neck backwards. Derek had never, ever heard the kind of a sound that pierced through the entire room just then. Somewhere in the distance Clooney whimpered out of fear, and couple of moments later the canine was scratching the bedroom's door with clear distress.
Spencer remained in the unnatural, most definitely uncomfortable position for a remarkably long time before lifting his head back up and meeting his eyes. The vampire was panting, and those eyes looking at him were filled with what can only be called lust.
Derek's lips opened, but in the end he couldn't speak out a word. He was confused, dizzy, out of breath and utterly elated. This all felt like some sort of a strange dream.
Spencer smirked somewhat cheekily, as though reading his mind. "So, I'm getting the feeling that you enjoyed it."
Derek scoffed, once again tightening his hold on the vampire. "You fucking know I did, Pretty boy."
Spencer's eyebrow arched. "It's been a while, since you last called me that."
Derek was surprised by the tiny smile that appeared to his lips. "That doesn't make it any less true, though."
Spencer's expression was unreadable. "Hmm."
And then there was a strange, beeping sound that sped through the room, almost like that of a arrived text message. The sound made them crashland to the reality at hand.
Suddenly the mood changed as they both understood what was inevitably approaching. Derek swallowed thickly, whereas Spencer grit his teeth with a torn expression on his deathly pale face. They were both shivering.
Spencer licked his lips and shuddered, shifting restlessly. "That's a sign", the vampire explained quietly. "It means that we've gone too far, and they know. They're coming."
The terror that'd filled Derek before, when seeing Spencer's blood spill, filled him once more. He grabbed the vampire so tightly that the brunet winced. "Don't go." It was said quietly, but was nonetheless nothing short of an order.
Spencer sighed and closed his eyes. Derek couldn't name all of the emotions that came over him when the vampire leaned closer, obviously inhaling his scent, memorizing it. A single finger trailed its way from his jawline to the end of his neck, pausing for a second when reaching his throat. "If I'd stay… it'd be the end of us both." Spencer growled to his skin. "They're already on to us, you see? They've been watching, waiting, evaluating. Now we've slipped, I've slipped from my task… and they'll be here. They'd kill both of us."
Derek frowned. "Who's 'they'?"
Spencer gave him a tiny, wry smile, making some distance between them. "Much more powerful than the two of us, that much I can tell you."
Derek shook his head, rage and determination mixing with still spinning fear. "I don't care. I'm not going to lose you – I love you." It was stunning, how easily those words fell after he'd been too afraid to speak them for such a long time.
Spencer's eyes darkened, and for a while they appeared suspiciously moist. "I know you do. I can feel it." Once more the brunet leaned closer, crushing their lips together. That one kiss held so much emotion, so many unspoken words, that it swept Derek's mind blank. He couldn't be sure if he only imagined hearing the vampire's whisper. "Thank you, for everything."
And then everything became completely, utterly black.
About five minutes later there was a black car waiting for Spencer when he emerged from the building. He wasn't exactly surprised when finding William Reid from the driver's seat.
William gave him a questioning look. "Did you take care of the situation?"
He nodded, unable to meet the older one's eyes. Instead he focused on staring out the window, although his eyes didn't really register a thing. "Yes. I did."
"Good." He felt William's eyes on him but didn't turn to meet them. "I've taken care of everything – we'll take a flight in an hour. The Tribe will never find us." There was a tiny pause. "How does Paris sound to you?"
Spencer didn't respond. Their destination was insignificant to him – over the past hundred and fifty years he'd settled into so many new places that one more new life felt like nothing.
Leaving Derek, though… Leaving this life… He could only wish he would've been able to feel nothing. But he'd broken the rules, and now he'd have to pay the price. It was as simple and as painful as that.
When Aaron Hotchner got a call at five in the morning, announcing that Derek Morgan had been hospitalized under suspicious circumstances, he was awake in a microsecond. A shockwave shot trough him when he went to the hospital to find two police officers who were apparently waiting for a chance to talk with Derek.
Derek had, apparently, been found unconscious from one Spencer Reid's bed by the police, after neighbors had called in a complaint of noise. It was unclear why the man had collapsed – there was no alcohol in the man's blood, and most greater physical concerns had been ruled out. Spencer, on the other hand, had been nowhere to be found. The police had only found Derek's petrified dog and some blood they suspected was Spencer's. There was also clear evidence of breaking and entry, but no clues to who did it. As it was, Derek Morgan was the only one who could tell what happened in that small apartment. And there was a million blanks to be filled.
Aaron couldn't believe that it was all really happening. And he had a feeling that the nightmare was nowhere near finished. As soon as Derek's doctor announced that it was alright to go into Derek's room he did; he didn't want the police officers to be the first people the mocha-skinned agent would see upon waking up.
The two hours, twenty minutes and thirty seconds Aaron had to wait were torturously long. But eventually there were sounds of Derek shifting in his bed, soon followed by a extremely sleepy, raspy voice. "Hotch?" He turned just in time to see Derek stirring with a frown. The man didn't seem to be in pain, which was the first good news he'd received since that phone call. "What's… going on?"
Aaron had always been good at keeping his emotions under control, at concealing and rationalizing everything. But hearing that sound coming from one of his agents – from a member of the BAU-family – made something inside him crack.
Aaron had to clear his throat before he managed to trust his voice enough to speak. "What do you remember of last night?"
Derek frowned and rubbed his face with one hand, visibly fighting to get his blurry head under control. "I… I remember going home. I think I was upset about something, when going to a walk with Clooney. But then, I just…" The man shook his head, frustrated and exhausted. "I just don't know." After a moment the man gave him a demanding, almost fearful look. "Hotch, did I… Did I do something?"
Aaron didn't know how to answer that without bringing further harm, so he didn't. Instead he threw in a new, even more dangerous question, almost afraid of the answer. "Morgan… Do you remember what happened to Reid?"
For a second, two, three, Derek stared at him with baffled, questioning eyes and frowned. "Who's Reid?"
'The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rustling in the dark.'
(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
A/N: That… was something different, I suppose. In a good way I hope. (sweatdrops)
BUT, was it any good, at all? I'm sailing on foreign waters here, so it'd mean the world to me to hear what you guys think. (gives puppy's eyes)
In any case, thank you so much for reading! Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing ya guys around. (glances hopefully)