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milliesfishes · 2 months ago

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꣑ৎ౨ৎSwan Song꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: death, blood pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: billy thinks you're gone forever author's note: :) hope this is alright. Had another vampire idea after doing some research Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

He needed to tear away. Tell himself the figure beneath the wrinkled white sheet was not you, but rather something void of your spirit, of everything that had ever made you special. But Billy couldn't help loving it. He'd loved every part of you.

The candle was a nub collapsing in on itself, dripping into the brass holder. Though the glow was faint, he could see the outline of your face beneath the thin fabric. His girl. His beautiful girl, even when death masked you.

The sickness had been rapid, claiming you quick. Billy had hardly left your bedside in the duration, his prayers taking a new form. He'd called the doctor into your small home and begged him to save you, but the man's hopes hadn't been high.

Still, Billy had nursed you, mopped your sweaty brow, pleaded with you to drink water and broth, held you when the fever caused you to cry out in the dark. Every time you opened your eyes and he saw the beautiful glimmer that told him you were still fighting, he became a little more convinced that it would all be okay. That in a month, he would look back at this as merely an incident and nothing more.

But in the early hours of the morning, your clammy hand clasped in his, you slipped from mortality, disappearing into the afterlife's pocket.

The doctor, grim-faced, had pronounced you lucky that the fingers of death hadn't wrapped around you sooner. Billy waited until he left to cry, tears like rain dripping down his cheeks.

Now you were laid out stiffly on a table, shrouded in white. He had made sure to tuck the sheet under your heels- you hated when your feet were cold. Billy slouched in a chair dragged from the kitchen, hand covering his mouth as he stared at what was left of you, one pale hand dipping from the table and clasped in his other. He'd been motionless for hours, mind traveling lengths and showing him the life he would never have with you. All the things he'd wanted to say, wanted to give you.

He saw imaginings of the children you would have had, of watching you grow older; a luxury he hadn't ever thought he would get. A roughened outlaw, any dreams he'd had of a normal life were forced to be shattered by his own hand. When he'd met you, he found himself putting them back together, with every smile, every time you said you loved him.

It was the only music he wanted to hear, and its artist had been silence.

Fish circled his ankles, letting out a tiny questioning meow. Wordlessly, Billy dropped his free hand to his back, stroking his dark silky fur. Your beloved pet had been in a state of distress for hours now, and Billy felt a pang of guilt for not paying more attention to him.

He wondered if you were watching right now and immediately hoped you weren't. If you were free from this life, you deserved heaven, not long years being forced to view his misery. He knew he would wear it without shame. You were the greatest love he ever knew, and now he'd lost it. The pieces of his heart had trailed behind him like bread crumbs as he carried your limp body from the bedroom to the table, laying you out.

Recalling the death of his mother and brother, Billy knew about viewings and customs. But he knew that though you had been kind to all you met in your life, his tarnished name had sullied yours as well. Nobody would come to pay respects to the lover of a former outlaw. As much as he hated his reputation's muddied tendencies, he was grateful for it now. There wasn't any way he could have accepted condolences or politely thanked anybody for coming now.

Bowing his head, Billy shifted in his chair. There wasn't any way in hell he was leaving your side until the burial. He wasn't sure if he'd even be able to sleep without you pressed into his side, ear over his heart. Fish leapt from the ground onto his lap, making himself comfortable, a regular practice for the cat. Billy swore his whiskers were drooping, a forlorn look in the little animal's eyes.

Settling one hand on the cat's side, Billy breathed in, shutting his eyes. Maybe when the morning came he'd find it a little easier to start saying goodbye.

The last thought he had before falling asleep was one of truth that pierced the jagged remains of his heart. He would never say goodbye. Not truly.

Fish was meowing. Billy grunted, slowly lifting his head upright. His neck was aching from the angle it'd lulled into somewhere in the night, and he gritted his teeth as the soreness pounded. Early sunshine was poking through the curtains and knocking at his eyelids.

The warmth of the cat in his lap was absent, and he figured the little animal was hungry. He tried to remember if there was any chicken left from when he'd canned it last. Stretching out his legs, Billy yawned, rolling a shoulder back. Instinctively, he flexed his fingers, still feeling the weight of your hand in his.

Your cold hand.

It all came rushing back like the current of a river out to drown him. Billy took in a breath through his nose, trying to suppress it for now. Later. He could deal with that later. Right now, the cat was hungry.

Wearily, he cracked one eye open, the fuzzy outline of the world greeting him. The house was still fairly shadowy, although lighter than last night. Fish darted past his legs, and he hummed, rubbing an eye with his free hand. "Alright...alright, I'm comin'."

Instinctively, he turned to look at you. Maybe it was a habit he wouldn't ever shake, always checking first to make sure you were well.

No matter the reason, he was shocked to see you sitting up, staring right back at him.

Panic shot through Billy's body, and he stood so rapidly that the chair was knocked backwards. Chest heaving, he searched the length of you, positive he was dreaming.

The sheet was bunched around your waist, a corner flung away to reveal part of your thigh. You were still in the nightdress you had passed in, one shoulder bare where the strap had fallen down. Hair loose, your skin was as pale and cold as it had been yesterday. In fact, most everything about you looked the same.

It was your eyes that had changed, now an icy lightened blue that reminded him of death. You blinked at him like a doll, and he was terrified by the entire scene. Were you a spirit? A ghost he'd conjured from the throes of his own grief?

"Baby..." The breathy word fell from his lips like a prayer, and his teeth nearly chattered when he saw the old glimmer flash across your irises.

Your voice was raspy. "Billy."

It hit him right then that this was real. You were here, somehow conscious and sentient. A ragged cry tore from him, and he surged forward, bringing you into his chest and squeezing you tight. Your arms were solid around his back, and the detail of it bloomed an overload of relief in his chest.

"How're you...what're you...?" Every question went unfinished as he pressed his lips to your hair over and over again, mind racing.

You fisted his shirt, face buried in his chest. "I don't know. I don't know." He pulled back, and you looked as though you would cry. "All I know is that it was so dark...and I woke up and Fish was on the table next to me."

Cupping your cool cheeks in his big hands, Billy smiled in disbelief, looking over you again. "You're here...you're-" You smiled, lips parting, and he froze, eyes glued to your teeth. It seemed your eyes weren't the only thing death had changed.

The pieces began to connect.

Smile dropping, his mind caught on a certain part of what you'd said, a flood of memory washing over him. The tales his mother used to tell filled in blanks tentatively, and his heart pounded. No. It was impossible. That sort of thing wasn't real.

But you had been dead hours ago.

"Did you say Fish was beside you?" His voice was a whisper.

"Here." Kathleen deposited the kitten that had snuck in Billy's hands and returned to her task, stripping the petals of lavender from the green stem. It had been a flurry of adults running in and out of the house all morning, tending to the icy figure of his aunt Rosalie in the next room.

"Take her outside," his mother commanded gently, pinching another stalk of lavender. "Isn't good to have an animal around a body. If they walk over it they'll turn a person to something like Abhartach."

A vampire.

Now Billy's heart was beating double time, and he looked back at you, everything clicking. His mind raced- was there anything to do? Fish was purring and circling his legs once more, blissfully unaware of his actions.

You whimpered, a hand flying to your throat. "Billy...it hurts...I..." Opening and closing your mouth, fear struck your eyes like lightning. When you looked up at him helplessly, the conditions of your new form unknown to you, any modicum of doubt or hesitation he'd had disappeared. All he knew was that you needed help.

Admittedly, Billy had very limited knowledge, but of one thing he was sure. There was a singular substance you needed to make the pain stop. And you'd never had any. Protection blurred every protesting thought as he stood, one objective clear in his mind.

Securing an arm around your waist, he moved you slightly on the table, planting one of his legs firmly on the ground and putting the other on your opposite side. Gently, he pulled you in to rest against his chest, fingers rubbing your hip. When you began to protest, he murmured, "Shh...it's okay. 'm gonna help you feel better."

Lifting his free wrist to your mouth, he whispered, "Bite down on it." You began to turn in his arms, but he held you firm, sensing your confusion. "Trust me, angel. You'll feel better."

There was a moment in between when he wasn't sure you'd do it. He could see how odd of a request it was, especially when you weren't sure why. Slowly but surely, you closed your mouth around it, and the sensation of your fangs cutting through his skin was evident. Your body's instincts seemed to kick in, and you began to suck, relaxing into his body.

Billy held back any grimaces at the pain, trying to keep any worries at bay. He wasn't sure how much blood you would need, hell, he wasn't sure if you knew. But he'd be damned if you went hurting without something his body could just make more of.

Your hand grasped his wrist after a moment, teeth withdrawing and leaving two little dots like a constellation on his skin. Billy breathed in, grateful that your thirst had been satiated and that he'd been deemed worthy by some higher power to keep living. If he was meant to die, by all means he'd let you drain his body into nothing but skin and bones.

When you turned to look into his eyes again, any explanations died on his tongue. You knew. There was no discussion, though he could see guilt in your eyes. That was something for another time, when he'd tell you as many times as you needed that his blood was yours for the taking. Thumbing the crimson from the corner of your mouth, he gave you a little smile.

Without speaking, Billy found his footing and scooped you up into his arms, walking the few feet to the sofa and sitting there with you between his legs once more. This would be more comfortable for the long term. He knew you didn't need as much rest anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't hold you.

Your eyes were trained on the wall, lips forming the names of numbers as you started from the first board and tried to count your way to the top. He watched you for a moment, feeling you tense when you kept losing track.

"Easy." He splayed the hand belonging to the wrist you'd bitten out, guiding your grasp to the palm. "Why don'tcha count these instead?"

You smiled sweetly up at him before your eyes fell to his fingers, mouthing as you counted over and over. One two three four five.

Satisfied, he held perfectly still, enjoying the feel of your icy skin against his. Fish leapt up beside you, nestling at Billy's feet. He'd have to give the cat extra chicken for the rest of his life now for what he'd done. Recalling how sad he'd looked sitting below your corpse, Billy wondered if he had known what he was doing. He couldn't help a smile at the thought.

For you were in Billy's arms again. You curled into his empty space, making him whole.

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