#let’s be real this is mainly an excuse for me to see how sagging skin works around the face

[patchworkspringlocks]

Y’know what? fuck this. fuck you *corpse-ifies your Michael*

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of wildfire relief, @bulbuli83 donated $50 and requested ‘Sam showing how far he’ll go to save Dean’. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post.

Sam prays, every day. He keeps it secret, sort of, although it's less that he's hiding and more that he just doesn't know how to talk about it, and so he doesn't. He picked it up when they were really little, staying with Pastor Jim up in Blue Earth, and he was staying up past his bedtime and saw Jim go down to his knees on the dusty floorboards through a crack in the door, and watched, amazed, while he talked quietly to someone who wasn't there. An imaginary friend, is how Sam thought of it when he was small. When he got bigger he thought of it as… he doesn't know. It's hard to articulate.

It's harder to pray, some days. People die and worlds end. He watches a wife crouched by the broken body of her husband, gripping his ripped bloody shirt and making these awful, awful sounds into his sagging neck, and that night while he lies sleepless in bed he looks up at the ceiling, his hands locked together over his stomach, and he thinks—things he can't say. Questions that don't have an answer. Intellectually, he knows that half of this is just talking to himself—reflection, indecision. Justification. There's never an answer, and for a long time he thinks there never will be. Then, he meets an angel.

It was a bad year. He thought before that he'd been through bad. He had no idea what bad was until Dean's timer was ticking down, the days slipping away from them both like a paper blown on the wind, always just out of reach. Dean acted casual and it was a lie and Sam hated it more than he hated anything. Then, Dean wasn't lying anymore, and Sam thought, bleakly ironic, maybe he should've been happy with the fake smiling and the devil-may-care, because Dean hollow-eyed and afraid was—worse. It was worse.

He prayed then, too. Asking, in an incoherent way. He didn't often get on his knees for it, but he did those last months, in random places—by his bed like a little kid when Dean was sleeping troubled; in the bathroom under fluorescent light, the shower running to provide the excuse for privacy; on the cold ground, on the side of the road or in the woods, his hands clasped so tight they hurt, just asking, asking, saying please. Of course there was never a response. One day, when there were just weeks left on Dean's deal and Dean was waking out of panting desperate nightmares every morning and Sam could hardly eat, could barely sleep, all his focus locked onto finding some way, getting out of it somehow, he was on his knees by the car, his shoulder leaned against the cold side-panel and his lips moving in something furtive, desperate, saying I'd do anything, I swear I would, I'd give up whatever it took, if only—and then he opened his eyes, and Ruby was standing there, watching him.

There's a story he always liked. Sort of a joke, sort of not. A man's house is flooding and he prays to God for help. The waters rise, inevitably. A neighbor comes by with a rowboat, and the neighbor says, come on, there's a flood!, but the man says that no, he'll stay, because he's a faithful man and he knows that God will save him. The waters keep rising and the man has to go to the second floor of his house. A police boat comes by, and the police say, sir, sir, come out of your house, there's a flood!, but the man is faithful, and he says no, he will stay, because God loves him, and will save him. The waters rise. The man climbs up to the roof. A rescue helicopter comes, and a rope hangs down, and the flood surges dangerous all around, cracking trees and threatening foundations, and from the helicopter comes a voice that says, sir, the town is gone, you must come with us to be safe. The man sits alone, on the roof, and ignores the rope, and looks to the sky, and the helicopter leaves, and the man is content because he knows that God will save him. When the house shatters—when the man drowns, brackish water filling his lungs—he goes to heaven, and is met by God, and he says Heavenly Father, I prayed, and I believed in you, and I thought you loved me, and you didn't save me. God says, I sent a rowboat, and the police, and a damn helicopter. What else do I gotta do, you idiot?

Dean died. Sam—didn't. He tried to for a while but it didn't stick. He got very, very drunk, and he went to his knees mainly because he was struggling to stand, and he braced his hands on the ground and thought he was going to puke, his shoulders hunched against the pain of it, and he said, or thought he said, I would've done anything, I promised you, I said—I said I would save him and I couldn't save him, and that's the meat of it, in the end. That he had made Dean a promise and he'd seen how Dean tried to believe him, and then he broke it. He didn't do the only thing that mattered. He hunched there, on the ground, and it was only when Ruby came and touched his shoulder, lifted him up, that he realized that he hadn't really been praying the whole time—that he'd been begging—and Ruby said, then, her little hands hard on his wrist and on his jaw, You can't fix it, Sam. You can't. No one can. The only thing we can do now is get revenge. If you let me help you, we can kill her. You and me. He swayed on his feet but she held him up, her eyes dark and steady. He thought of water, rising. Tell me how, he said, and she did.

He'd already broken one promise. It didn't seem that much worse to break another. He drank her blood and he cleared his mind of anything but one goal. Lilith had to die, and the world would be better for her dying. It seemed—not fair, nothing was fair, but it seemed—right. She'd taken something from him. The most important thing. He'd take something from her. When he prayed, for the rest of that year, he prayed not for mercy or for clarity or for wisdom, but for focus. He had one thing he needed to do. He just needed to be able to do it.

Ruby had told him that no one could fix it, and she was right. Dean comes back and Sam can hardly believe it. He holds Dean in his arms and Dean grips his hair, his shoulder, vivid and breathing and real. Dean's alive and he's here, with Sam, and that should resettle the world. It should make things—okay, again. It doesn't. Dean says he doesn't remember hell but his eyes are still haunted, as raw and fearful as he was in the months that led up to his dying. Dean says things are okay, that he wants to make it work, but he's harsher, his voice wrecked and low, the way he watches Sam strange and mistrustful. They meet—and Sam can hardly bear it—an angel, and Sam's whole body feels strange, resonant. Proof, if he ever needed it, when faith had always been enough. The angel looks at him and is an answer—God's warrior, solid on the earth—and he says to Sam that he is an abomination, and he says to Sam that what he's doing, his work, the only thing that had made sense out of Sam's life for the broken time when Dean was gone—he says that it's wrong, and he has to stop, and that the angels will take care of it.

Of course, they won't. Sam knows that. Angels are miracles, God's intervening hand, but Sam has to do this himself. That's been clear for a long time, now.

He prays still but it's to something distant. He doesn't know if it's God, anymore. He sits on his bed, watching Dean sleeping (troubled, frowning), and he folds his hands between his knees and thinks, what can he do? How can he make it right, make it better?

There's a fight. An alley, a hard fast scrum. They're looking for one of these stupid seals, at the behest of the angels, but apparently the angels can't be trusted to watch their backs. In the alley they're all normal-looking guys except for how their eyes go black, when Sam comes around the corner and finds them with Dean, and Dean's bleeding. Dean's bleeding, from his nose and his lips, a cut on his temple like someone bashed his head into the wall, and even if Sam's had the impulse to do the same a few times in his life, other people aren't allowed to hurt him. What has it all been for, if not for that?

"Sam," Dean says, warning—warning, like there's not a demon's hand around his throat.

One of them squares up. Four, in the alley, two on Dean, one watching, one making like he thinks he's going to take Sam down. Last night Sam prayed and Ruby came, telling him that they were close to Lilith, that they were going to make it right, and she nicked her wrist and he drank deep and it's still there, crackling under his skin, filling his bones with light. He holds out a hand and the demon going for a haymaker stops in his tracks, flinches. There's a rustle. Leaves blowing, underfoot.

Sam concentrates but it turns out that it's not all that hard to concentrate, anymore. He's focused. He has clarity of purpose, and all the belief he needs, because it's easy to believe when the proof's right there in front of you. The demons surge at him and he stops them all, two hands out and his eyes half-lidded, the light in him roiling up, yoked to his needs. The one holding Dean lets go and Dean sags, his legs unsteady after that head wound, but Sam doesn't have time for him right this second—it's more important to make sure that the one who was touching Dean dies, and—he dies. The smoke in him gutters out, his spark crackling and then snuffed, like a fire without oxygen. The others go—more slowly, all three at once, and Sam breathes and feels them ebb, their soured souls trapped inside their mouths, the pain flaring and the light in Sam white-hot, bright, scorching them away until the bodies drop, empty, broken in the scattered leaves and trash of the alleyway. None of them stand up. The meatsuits must have been destroyed, too. Sam breathes out, rolling one shoulder, and feels—righteous. It'll be like that, he thinks. It'll be this way, when he finally kills Lilith.

Dean's still crouched by the wall of the bar. Sam steps over the bodies, crouches too. Dean flinches back a few inches but Sam shushes him, touches his jaw. "It's okay," he says, "it's over," and Dean sucks in air and looks at him with big worried eyes, but it is okay. Sam made it okay.

He runs his hands over Dean's shoulders and then gets his forearms, helps him up to his feet. No broken bones, that Sam can tell, and he gently presses Dean back against the bricks and tilts his face toward the neon light. In the blinking blue-red-white the blood looks bad, but it's been worse, and Sam applies a crumpled bandana from his pocket to the spot by Dean's temple where it's still seeping. Dean's eyes are closed, his face turned a little away. Sam touches his throat and feels his heartbeat, racing. They haven't been this close in weeks—Sam's heart is racing a little, too.

"I know you don't like them," Sam says, quietly. "My powers, I mean. But—if there's a way to save you, I'm gonna take it. If there's a way to fix things, to make it better—take out Lilith, stop all these seals from falling—then I'm gonna do it. I can do it, Dean."

Dean shifts against the wall but Sam holds him in place. Dean goes still. "The angels don't like it, Sam," he says. His voice sounds wrecked, like he's been yelling. Was he yelling, during the fight? Sam can't remember. "They say it's—wrong."

"Well, they're wrong," Sam says, and Dean opens his eyes, and Sam smiles at him, and shrugs. "I mean, how can it be wrong? Look," he says, and Dean looks, at the alleyway with the bodies filling it. His eyes are hooded a little but when the neon sign flashes white, Sam can see the green. He takes the bandana away and cups his hands around Dean's jaw, instead, turning his head back, and Dean's eyes are still lowered, fixed on Sam's chest, his breathing heavy. That's okay. Everything's okay.

"No one's going to touch you, again," Sam says. He's broken two promises, already. This third one, he can keep. "I swear. I'm gonna keep you safe, okay? And there's nothing any of the angels or any of the demons can do about it."

"You swear?" Dean says.

Sam frames Dean's face with his hands, the light still churning inside him. He leans in, and Dean's head tips back against the brick wall, and he looks Sam in the eyes finally, and his lips part, a breath heaving in. Sam could answer, but he thinks this is answer enough—he bends his head and kisses Dean, carefully, like they haven't in—god, months and months and months, with things so strange between them. He moves his mouth very softly, aware of how Dean's bleeding with that cut inside his lip, and Dean shudders under his hands, grips Sam's jacket, but then—slowly, tentatively, he kisses back. His tongue tastes like dark iron, like copper's tang. Sam pulls him in, closer, and Dean makes a small deep sound and presses close, just like Sam wanted, and Sam thinks, giddy, that all his faith was worth it. All those prayers, all those works. He did what he had to, and in reward he has—this. Dean, safe and his. Above them, it starts to rain.

[morallygreyprompts]

Vampire Continuation #2 (and finale)

First part here

Did I deliberately hold this back a few days for Halloween? Um… Well... You have no proof. 

There is a keep reading because this beastie is 3.3K words- that’s right I spoiled you lot and finished the whole story. If that isn’t dedication, idk what is ^^’ I made up some of the vampire things, mainly sealing the wound, but like, what I say makes sense.

Enjoy your spooky day, kids. Bop to Spooky Scary Skeletons, do the time warp, and don’t forget to brush your teeth an extra time- oh, and eat your pumpkins, please don’t waste food. There are loads of recipes and ideas online, (except my friend who is allergic. You’re excused ^^’) Use fruits your more likely to eat- like watermelons that you can cut in half, carve all the red out and just use the skin. Anything like that and animals like to eat the pumpkin guts, but you’d have to read up on that. Point is, don’t just leave it to rot.

I will also say now the dreaded November 1st is here, I have my queue readyish and I’m not posting anything extra on this page, and I won’t be doing submissions because I have the memory of a sieve that’s missing its mesh and I’ll forget.

Sidekick followed Hero and the Vampire for as long as they could, mainly focusing on the direction they were headed, thinking about what sort of hideaways were in that area. There were a few, but there was one place in particular that seemed especially likely, and that was dilapidated lighthouse, rumoured to have a tangles mass on tunnels beneath it. Tunnels that a vampire would no doubt thrive in and have plenty of space to keep their living meals. It was as good a place as any to start, but Sidekick didn't know how long they had until Hero was turned, or killed. 

They also knew they couldn't go after them without getting ready. They needed weapons, and one can of aerosol just wasn't enough. They had no idea what they were going up against.

Sidekick, still panting from their previous run, took off back toward their base to get ready. They just hoped they had enough time. They read up as much as they could on weaknesses, and tied to collect everything in the base that they could. Garlic crosses, silver, knotted ropes, a second aerosol, and they spent at least half an hour sawing at a broom, quartering it and then sharpening one edge to make a stake. It took longer than they would have liked, but it was the best weapon they felt they could get and now they had four of them. There was another thing they needed, but they could get that from a church on the way to the lighthouse.

Sidekick caught themselves and decided to telephone Vigilante, but after the second attempt, there was no answer. They couldn't wait any longer. They set off toward the church, using Hero's bicycle to make the journey faster. Sidekick was able to get to the church quickly, and they managed to salvage two bottles of water, but that was all. They would have liked more, but there wasn't exactly the time to wait for the next service. It was getting late into the night. Every second that went by might have been too late.

Sidekick had only just pocketed the two bottles when they heard a screech. They looked up overhead to see three vampires coming at them.

"Oh, crud." This meant trouble. If three had been sent after them, then how many other ones were they?!"

Sidekick snarled and started running toward the church. If they could get there, they'd be safe. Only one of the Vampires grabbed them and lifted them high into the air, holding them by their ankle. Sidekick cried out in terror at being so high, so droppable, getting further and further away from the safety of the church. They weren't even going in the direction of the lighthouse. Sidekick snarled and scrambled for a stake. With a battle cry, they forced themselves to sit up and plunged the stake into the vampire's chest.

A deafening shriek pierced through the air, forcing Sidekick to cover their ears. As the vampire began to turn to ash and descend to the ground beneath them, they dropped Sidekick. They hit the ground hard, face first, but thankfully they were low enough for nothing to be broken, although that didn't remove the pain. Sidekick would have laid still for a moment, assessed what parts of their body they could still feel but they didn't have time for that. There were still two other vampires to deal with.

The first was easy, all things considered, as it flew toward them, Sidekick took out a stake, ducked, but swung their arm out, hitting the vampire in the chest again. What they didn't realise was that as the vampire turned to ash, so did the stake. Now they only had two left. They didn't want to use them on this third vampire- not that they had the chance to. The vampire grabbed them by the shirt, dragged them closer, and exposed their neck. Sidekick punched them in the head, and wearing a silver ring made it far more effective. 

The vampire recoiled, holding its face in pain. Sidekick didn't have the time to feel sorry for it. Anger took over and the creature dived at them. A bang sounded, and the vampire dropped from the air like a shot bird. It took Sidekick a moment to realise that was exactly what had happened. They sat down for a moment, panting for breath, wincing at the pain and rubbing their chest.

"This week on 'what trouble are [Hero] and [Sidekick] hip-deep in time'?'" Vigilante said in a commentator-style voice. "In this episode, [Sidekick] tries to take on three vampires at once and almost very epically fails if it weren't for me having one last silver bullet."

"Lay off," Sidekick grumbled. "You saw my missed call?"

"Yeah, and from there I just followed the sound of you imitating a screaming little girl. Wasn't so hard. I'd say what's up, but I feel like those freaks are kinda self-explanatory."

"They took [Hero]. [Villain] is one of them, and they've bitten them," Sidekick answered.

"So... they're turned?" they asked, using their index fingers to imitate sharp canines.

"No. To start turning you also have to drink vampire's blood. To become a full vampire, they have to drink a few times. Some say it's when they have their first feed that there's no going back. I'm starting to think it's just that every vampire is different."

"Lovely," Vigilante grimaced. "Signing a contract or shaking hands not edgy enough for these guys?"

"[Vigilante], this is serious! Come on, we have to kill [Villain] before [Hero] turns. I don't know if we have days, hours, or even minutes."

"How long have you known there to be vampires here?" Vigilante asked.

"I've suspected it for a while. [Hero] wouldn't believe me."

"Ooh! Are they getting the biggest 'I told you so' in the history of I told you so's."

"Yeah, if they live that long. Here."

Sidekick rummaged through their things, giving them a bottle of water, the madly knotted rope, and a stake.

"Um... rope?"

Sidekick shrugged. "Vampires have compulsions. Counting things like seeds is one of them, the other is unpicking knots. It'll buy you some time and they're pretty defenceless when they're working."

"Interesting..." Vigilante furrowed their brow as Sidekick gave them some garlic as well.

"Well, my uniform's gonna stink."

"[Vigilante]!"

“Alright, alright. We should wait 'til daytime and attack."

"I would but we really don’t have time. If they’re underneath the lighthouse, there’s no sunlight to keep them at bay."

Vigilante sighed and let their shoulders sag. "Okay. Let’s do this, but don't expect me to be a Van Helsing all of a sudden cos you gave me a knot, a bottle of water, and a stick."

Sidekick rolled their eyes. "Well, at least I'm not doing this by myself."

The lighthouse reeked with the smell of death, which seemed like a good sign that the undead were camping out there. There was no sign of movement, not a soul. Sidekick kept a lookout for any sinister animals, bats, wolves, snakes maybe... But the air was still and crisp. Sidekick was sure if there was a mouse nestled in a tuft of grass, they'd have been able to hear its little breaths, its silent patter of its heartbeat. They could go as far as calling the place dead. 

Sidekick gestured for Vigilante to be quiet as they crept down the overgrown paths, the bristle of the dry grass seemed deafening to them. No matter how carefully Sidekick tread, there was no way to keep the noise down any further. They decided to try for speed rather than stealth in this circumstance. They had to get inside.

The two carefully opened the broken door of the lighthouse, the wooden plank that had sealed it looked torn away. They were close. Vigilante took out their bottle of holy water and took off the lid, pressing the rim of the bottle on their neck and tipping it. None spilt out, but it wet the skin. They did the same with their wrists. Sidekick looked at them with confusion, but Vigilante only shrugged. "I'd do the same." Sidekick rolled their eyes, took out their water and poured a little bit along the doorway, maybe it would stop them coming in. They looked at Vigilante's expectant expression and decided to do as they had done. It was only a few drops, and if it worked, then it was worth it.

It was quite easy to find the loose slab that led to the underground tunnels, there were hand marks, where someone had tried to resist being dragged down, followed by a thin trail of blood.

"At least they sealed the wound," Sidekick mumbled.

"How?" Vigilante whispered.

"Real blood-drinking bats have a chemical that stops wounds closing till they've drunk their fill. Vampires have the opposite since people bleed so heavily."

Vigilante mouthed 'oh'. They hadn't heard of that before but really, if a vampire was going to feed off the same person three or so times, then there had to be a way to stop the bleeding. Puncturing an artery would kill someone in less than a minute. It made sense.

The two carefully made their way down the tunnel. One thing they hadn't brought was a torch, but Sidekick used the lighter just to give a slight sense of which direction they needed to go in. The tunnel smelt worse than outside, with next to no ventilation, it was suffocating, and the odour of rotten blood and corpses was nauseating. Sidekick was just glad not to have come across any victims yet. Sidekick doubted they could stomach such a thing. Locked away in the long dark, Sidekick could hear only the faint dripping of liquid, they hoped it was water. As they walked, they kicked over tiny stalagmites. Sidekick shuddered. They looked back at Vigilante to receive a reassuring nod, and that gave them enough to keep walking.

Eventually, they came to a better-lit clearing, full of at least thirty or so vampires. Sidekick gulped and ducked into cover, Vigilante followed suit. They were far too close to the creatures to speak, but with some thin lighting from lamps scattered around the place, Sidekick knew Vigilante was hoping for some sort of idea on what to do. Sidekick reached in their pocket for the seeds. Vigilante peeked their head above the stone and gave a thumbs up. They pointed at Sidekick and then used two fingers to imitate walking, then pointed to the exit on the other side of the clearing. Sidekick took that as a 'you go on ahead'.

Sidekick grabbed a handful of poppy seeds and launched them into the air. "Hey, count those!" they exclaimed. The vampires turned and snarled, some tried to resist, but soon they all slinked over to the seeds, struggling to even see them let alone count them. Sidekick had grabbed some sunflower seeds form the kitchen too, and they threw them just to be sure they were thoroughly distracted. This was up to Vigilante to deal with, who was assessing the situation to decide how was best to kill so many vampires that studied the ground like a flock of chickens.

Sidekick tried to run across the clearing, only for a wolf to block their path. It seemed not all vampires were drawn to the impulse of seeds. Sidekick grabbed their aerosol and sent a blast of fire towards the wolf, only the wolf dived at them from an angle, only just avoiding the flame. Its claws caught on Sidekick's arm, drawing long deep wounds. They yelped in pain, and with the wolf stood squarely on Sidekick's shoulders, their thumb slipped off the lighter and the wolf bit the can, piercing the thin metal and making it useless.

The wolf tried to bite them, but Sidekick threw their head to the side and reached in their pocket. They used the hand with the ring on to try to keep the wolf back, and the other leapt into their pocket. Their fingers locked onto a clove of garlic. They shoved in the wolf's open mouth and it screeched. Scampering back, using its paw to bash the garlic out of its mouth. It took off running, whimpering and squealing. Sidekick heard them transform, and the growls and whines turned into screaming and moans.

"Go!" Vigilante exclaimed. "Here!" They tossed them the knotted rope Sidekick had given them earlier. Sidekick caught it and took off running down the passageway, clutching their injured arm. The tunnel was still barely lit but Sidekick couldn't worry about that now. Some noise had been made, and that meant the others all knew that intruders were here. There was a good chance that Villain would kill Hero just to spite them, just to make this rescue attempt an utter failure.

Sidekick kept going down the rocky passage, groping their way down, hoping they didn't bump into anything they weren't meant to. They held onto the crucifix, holding it out in front of them, just in case anything tried to get the drop on them. Their thoughts were becoming blurry, their only focus was on the unnatural threats around them, the need to stay alive, to save Hero. The idea that those things could be anywhere was making their heart rattle against their ribcage, trying to escape and run far away from it all.

When there was light coming up ahead, they knew that that was where Villain would be hiding. With a deep breath, Sidekick went closer, crucifix in one hand, and they took out the holy water for the other, pulling the cap off with their teeth. As the room came into sight, Sidekick froze. Hero crouched on the floor, alive, but looking sticky and sickly, with dried blood down their chin. They hoped with everything that had that they weren't too late.

"[Hero]?" they mumbled.

Their head shot up toward Sidekick, but their eyes were blank. "B.blood... need..."

Without warning, Hero leapt at them, and Sidekick barely managed to swat them away with the crucifix. "Hey! [Hero], focus, it's me! It's [Sidekick]. Come on, stay with me!"

Hero tried again to jump at them, and Sidekick knew they were running out of options. They held the crucifix up, using it to drive Hero into a corner. Hero hissed, pressing themselves against the walls. Sidekick poured the water on the floor, circling them, and it did seem to act as a barrier.

"I'm not going to kill you."

Sidekick heard the slightest noise behind them, and they turned just in time to see Villain lashing out at them. They hit Sidekick's arm, tossing the crucifix from their hand. Sidekick felt around desperately for what they had left. Aside from the rope, the ring and the stake, they had nothing. Nothing at all.

"Your friend hasn't fed just yet. I think it would be fitting however, for it to be your blood they feast upon."

Villain licked their fingers, where a few drops of Sidekick's blood had touched their hand. The scratch was painful, but Sidekick could work with it. They'd had far worse before, that didn't mean it was going to be easy to fight vampire that was so much stronger and faster than them.

Sidekick tossed the knot to Hero, just to make sure they stayed focused on that and not Sidekick. They snatched up the rope, trying to pick at the incredibly tight knots Sidekick had made in it. It would last long enough for the fight. Only one of them would survive, and the winner got Hero.

This was a fight they just couldn't lose.

Villain sprang at them, lashing out with their long nails, letting their teeth shine in the dim light. Sidekick punched them with their ring hand and caught Villain above the eye. The vampire hissed as blood began to drip down, a wound unable to heal due to the silver that had cut it.

"I'm warning you," Sidekick seethed.

"Oh I'm terrified," Villain said smugly. "You think you can just come in here and kill me? Destroy my empire? Ha! Mortals really are stupid."

Sidekick had an idea. A stupid, life-threatening, terrible idea, but it was an idea all the same. They needed Villain to get close. That was there only chance of being able to hit them with the stake, but if they got bitten there was every chance they'd die. They just had to get close.

Villain leapt up, clinging to the ceiling. Sidekick focused on keeping their feet as Villain crawled toward them. They took out the stake ready.

"Any more surprises?" Sidekick exclaimed. "Come on!"

Villain grinned and let themselves drop. Sidekick wasn't far enough out of range and they fell back. The stake fell out of their hands from the painful impact. Villain pounced before Sidekick could pick it back up. They held onto Sidekick's clothes as they climbed toward Sidekick's neck. Sidekick punched them but met only air. 

Villain seized hold of Sidekick's arms by below the elbows, forcing them well out the way of their neck.

"No!" Sidekick cried. "[Vigilante]!" They knew help would not come soon enough. They kicked and writhed, but Villain was too strong. 

"You tried," Villain said smugly. "You did well, but nothing comes between me and my prey."

Villain buried their face against Sidekick's neck, jaws open wide, but they let out a scree noise.

"It. it burns! How?!"

It took Sidekick a moment to be able to answer the question. The holy water they'd put on.

"Y.you like my perfume?" Sidekick said.

Villain growled and had to let go of their arms, yanking their shirt down, leaving nothing between Sidekick's pounding heart and their teeth bit a thin layer of skin.

"There's more than one place to bite someone, dearie."

Sidekick acted quickly. They reached for the stake, at first it was only their fingertip brushing against it. That became two... three- they had it!

With a scream, Sidekick plunged the stake into the vampire's heart. Villain recoiled in shock, clawing at their own chest. "N.no! No! What have you done?!"

Sidekick stood up and took a shaky breath. "Given you what you deserve. Mortals might be stupid, but we're very good at surviving."

Villain screamed as blood poured out of the wound. The fell to the floor, slowly turning to ash. Sidekick had to look away from the gruesome death. They looked at Hero, finding them unconscious in their little corner. They didn't look so weak and drained now. Sidekick covered their eyes as the scream reached an unbearable note. They dropped to their knees and waited for the noise to stop.

With a gurgle, the air became silent again. Sidekick shook where they knelt. A lot had happened that night. Too much for them to think about all at once. They hissed in pain at their arm. Something felt deeply wrong with it. Their world spun, and they collapsed on the ground. They'd won.

They opened their eyes to find Hero cradling them, and an ungodly pain in their arm. They screamed and tried to get away but Hero and Vigilante held on tight as Vigilante poured the holy water over their arm. It was a searing pain that brought tears to their eyes and snatched their breath away. That felt worse than cleaning a wound with pure alcohol.

"You're okay, buddy," Hero soothed.

"Had to clean it out. I don't know what attacked you, but that wound went a colour I really don't think it was meant to," Vigilante said. "Maybe a werewolf..."

"God, I hope not," Sidekick winced. They lay still, catching their breath.

Hero cleared their throat nervously. "Go on then... say it."

"You're an idiot," Sidekick said without missing a beat.

"And?"

"I told you so."

Vigilante clapped. "Those are the words I love to hear!"

Hero helped Sidekick to their feet, and the two had to support each other somewhat, though Sidekick felt worse off.

"So," Vigilante grinned, "anyone else in the mood for garlic bread?"

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