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Published:
2024-07-31
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I am Young and I am Good

Anonymous

Summary:

Daniel was never father of the year with his daughters and they were normal kids, not vampires with half a millennia of unprocessed trauma that lived in their chests, waiting to erupt out. He's unqualified for this. That won't stop him from trying to do better for Armand.

Notes:

Have you ever attempted to write a fluffy little piece about the internet's saddest little mansplaining manipulating malewife and had it turn into thousands of words of borderline depressing reflection on the miserable process of trying to be better than the way you've been treated? Anyway this is ~4000 words of weirdness that I'm not super happy with but it wasn't getting better with editing so its being published as is.

Trigger warning: Armand's past affects his regression and is mentioned throughout. Canon-typical abuse and trauma talk.

Work Text:

When Daniel wakes at dusk Armand has already left their shared bed. This isn’t out of the ordinary, fledglings need more sleep than ancient ones so he’s gotten used to rising alone. He doesn't hear the blender going which is a small relief. He likes to think he has a fairly iron stomach, years of drugs and chasing leads into foreign countries and dingy back alleys had made him an adventurous eater prior to his turning, but Armand's experimentation with blood-infused smoothies has yet to grow on him.  Too many bones for his taste.

He finds Armand in the living room, sprawled on his stomach on the couch. There’s a cartoon which seems to be about two boys and a bird playing on the TV with the sound so low it’s nearly indistinguishable even to Daniel’s vampirically enhanced hearing. Armand is still dressed in the soft, cotton pajamas Daniel had put him in the morning prior, his curls are sleep-mussed, his binky bobs gently in his mouth as he sucks lazily, and that damn iPad is propped on a pillow as he plays Minecraft. His laser-focus on his block game is such that he seems unaware Daniel is awake. From his vantage point Daniel can tell that he has his younger self’s world open, the creations childish and freeform, a stark contrast to adult Armand’s perfect recreations of monuments and cities of his past.

“Hey big guy” Daniel says casually, finding the remote discarded on the floor and muting the TV. There’s a talking pumpkin on the screen now. Armand looks up and his face is open and unguarded, genuine happiness flitting across his features as he sees Daniel in his worn flannel pajama pants and faded t-shirt.

“Hi Danny” Armand says, not removing his binky from his mouth, the words slightly slurred behind the plastic shield. His visual attention to Daniel is short lived before he returns to his game. He taps away with lightning speed, fingers flying through screens to select the blocks he wants.

“Have you had breakfast?” Daniel asks, although he already knows the answer. He hadn’t prepared a sippy cup for Armand last night. When the kid is like this he won’t take care of his own needs, but for the sense of normalcy, whatever that word means in Daniel's world now, he asks.

“Waiting for you” Armand says around his binky. It’s a dodge and both Daniel and Armand know it.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to wait bud” Daniel says. “Are you allowed on your iPad before you’ve had breakfast?” Armand’s eyes flash with anger for the briefest of seconds, half blank half apocalyptic but the look is gone so quickly Daniel could convince himself he had imagined it. Armand doesn’t respond, keeps his attention resolutely on his game. Daniel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s hungry and he doesn’t want to fight with his munchkin maker. “Armand, look at me please.” It takes several long seconds to get a response, Daniel can feel Armand weighing his options in his mind. As frustrating as it is to deal with a defiant oversized child Daniel is glad Armand is feeling safe enough to act out, a small sign that there’s more to Armand than subservience and subjugation to an owner.

Slowly Armand closes his game and shuffles so he’s sitting up on the couch. He doesn’t meet Daniel’s eye but is clearly listening and Daniel chooses not to push it. The delicate balancing act of loving Armand without detrimentally indulging him is a razor wire and Daniel knows how quickly the day can spiral into emotional upheaval for Armand if he feels that Daniel is angry at him. Even in his vampiric infancy Daniel feels that he's had a lifetime of experience with Armand's bad days. Unsleeping days and nights spent managing meltdowns of epic proportions the likes of which could only be thrown by a vampire alive for half a millennia. Those are more physically difficult, Little Armand on a warpath leaving broken toys in his wake and sweeping undoubtedly priceless antiques to the floor in waves.  Even worse in Daniel’s opinion are the days of sobbing, flashbacks, panic attacks, desperately clinging to Daniel and begging him not to leave. Claws ripping his own hair out in anguish and fangs piercing biting clear through his lips as his memories threaten to swallow him. Daniel would take 1,000 action figures with their heads snapped off and shards of baroque era vases scattered on the floor to avoid one day of Armand, child-minded and hurting, trying to service him while he babbles daddydaddydaddy and his mind tells him it’s the only way to keep his fledgling from leaving. It's the reason Daniel has been so firm with that boundary. He has no desire to be called anything other than his name when Armand is in this childlike state.

“What is the rule for playing iPad before breakfast?” Daniel asks again and Armand squirms, picks at his perfectly manicured nails, before answering.

“Not to” and his voice is higher, his careful intonation absent in his younger state.

“Mhm” Daniel hums, trying to catch Armand’s eye without success. “And what were you doing when I woke up, before eating breakfast?” Daniel keeps his tone even, making sure there’s not even an echo of frustration or exasperation in his voice.

“Playing iPad.” Armand says quietly, staring at his fingers as he twists them in his lap.

“Thank you for being honest. Let’s get you something to eat and then you’re going to have 4 minutes of corner time before bath.” Daniel watches carefully to see if Armand will protest but he only nods and stands up, hesitating until Daniel opens his arms before burying himself in the physically older man’s chest. He hides his face in his shoulder and inhales the scent of detergent and the same cheap shampoo he’s used since 1973 that Daniel refuses to replace, and something uniquely him which soothes little Armand’s worried mind.

“C’mon big guy” Daniel says when the hug has lingered for several minutes. Armand lets go but doesn’t move to follow him, scuffs his bare foot on the floor, doesn’t quite make eye contact. They’ve been working on Armand expressing his wants rather than waiting for Daniel to anticipate them but he chooses not to push it today. He opens his arms and hefts Armand to sit on his hip, one arm under his butt to help stabilize him, and long gangly legs wrap around his waist. Vampirism has been a blessing to Daniel's physical being more than most given the dark gift, but he feels especially grateful for the superhero-like physical strength. The waves of joy that radiate off Armand when he's held in Daniel's arms are unlike devil's blood, heroin, the euphoria and adrenaline of chasing a lead into a dangerous place, and Daniel thinks he could subsist solely on the happiness of his maker in these carefree, unburdened moments.

In the kitchen he deposits Armand at the island despite his whimpers of protest. “Just for a minute, need my hands to get you breakfast” Daniel says when he ruffles dark messy hair and kisses the crown of his head, a task that requires standing on his toes, the kid isn’t small. He pulls two bags of blood from the fridge, tosses one onto the counter, and pulls two sippy cups from the cupboard. “Blue or green?” he asks, holding the cups out for Armand to see. Armand shrugs and Daniel has to work not to portray any annoyance when he asks again. The last few times Armand had been little he’d done well with making his own decisions rather than deferring to Daniel, a habit honed over centuries of ownership in the many forms it had taken. Instead he reminds himself that progress is never linear and takes the lids off both, covered in bite marks from Armand’s gnawing at the plastic. Finally Armand chooses the blue, although is intonation is questioning and he looks to Daniel as if there was a right and wrong choice.

Praise doesn’t come naturally to Daniel but he tries to be as genuine as possible when he says “great job, kiddo.” He empties the blood into the cup and because he’s never been a strict parent lets Armand have his breakfast on the couch, although he doesn’t turn the TV back on. Instead Daniel chats idly about their plans for the week, keeping everything PG the way he would with his children when he had seen them on his court-determined weekends decades ago. He sips his blood straight from the bag like the world’s most fucked Capri Sun while Armand slugs from his sippy. He’s wrapped his favorite blanket, soft and double layered so it’s heft is noticeable, around his shoulders like a cape. His fingers worry at the fabric but Daniel has known him long enough now to discern that it’s mindless rather than an anxious fidgeting.

When his cup is empty Armand begins to chew the spout and Daniel swaps it for his pacifier with a gentle correction of “no chewing.” Armand looks chastised but accepts the rubber teat into his mouth and moves to snuggle into Daniel’s chest. Daniel indulges him in a few minutes, Armand rubbing his cheek against the soft cotton of Daniel's shirt before he moves him back to sit up. “Remember what we said this morning? You’re going to sit in the corner for four minutes for playing on the iPad before breakfast, and then we’ll have a hug and you’ll get a bath. Okay?". Immediately Armand’s enormous doe eyes are shimmering with blood tears and he’s sniffling miserably but he nods and goes obediently with Daniel to the armchair in the reading nook. He settles Armand there and sets a timer on his phone which he leaves within his eye line.

Daniel goes back to the living area and busies himself pretending to straighten the coffee table books and rearrange the decorative throw pillows he hadn't owned prior to Armand's entry into his life. He stays in the same room, knowing from experience Armand will spiral if he thinks Daniel's left him, and its brutal listening to Armand cry unobtrusively until the alarm goes off. Armand never moves to leave timeout on his own and even when Daniel approaches him and announces lightly that Armand is "all done" in the same cheery tone he would use with his daughters he stays statue still except for the bloody tears that streak down his cheeks.

“Would you like a hug?” Daniel asks, kneeling next to Armand’s chair. Armand nods and falls into Daniel’s arms, his crying renewed as he sobs and repeats "sorrysorrysorry" over and over while Daniel shushes him and offers forgiveness like a priest instead of the newly deceased in the body of an old man. Once Armand has cried himself out Daniel shepherds him into the bathroom with the promise of a bath with all the toys Armand wants.

It’s hard even when he’s gotten in trouble not to spoil the kid when he looks like the most beautiful kicked puppy in the world. In the back of his mind Daniel thinks the sadness and vulnerability are a bit like a predator’s camouflage, lulling his victims into a false sense of security only to feast when they’ve gotten too close. In the bath Armand makes good on Daniel’s word and dumps all of the little characters they’ve accumulated into the steamy water. He plays a peculiar game Daniel can’t follow that seems to consist of arranging the figures in rows on the edge of the ridiculously luxurious tub before knocking them one by one into the water and beginning again. The pattern is different each time and Daniel has given up on trying to solve the logic behind it, although he's sure there is one. Daniel fixes up the bedroom, gets himself dressed, answers a few emails while Armand entertains himself. Finally when he figures the water is getting cold he hands Armand his soapy washcloth and verbally prompts him to wash. Armand is obedient to a fault and smells of the lightly citrusy body wash his small self prefers when he emerges from the tub. Daniel has laid out his play clothes for the day, all things Armand had approved in his older mind. Even in a child’s mindset Armand is always well put together, looking like an oversized model for an upscale children’s boutique. Today he wears soft british khaki joggers, a cashmere striped sweater, and he allows Daniel to pull his hair back from his face in a half pony so it doesn't agitate him falling into his face.

Daniel knows they’ll need to hunt later in the evening. His fledgling body won’t allow him to survive on snacks of stored blood like an ancient one’s. Armand will likely come back to himself for the hunt, he’s only stayed in this more vulnerable mindset a few times when they’ve gone to feed and it always seems to leave him feeling unsettled. For now though Daniel is content to follow Armand’s lead. This turns out to be going into their fenced garden area where Daniel has had a play set installed. It had felt silly when he’d shown it to Armand, in his adult mind at that time, and he had to fight to control his desire to be dismissive and brusque in that unique way New Yorkers can be even when doing something kind for someone else. Armand had loved it though, getting misty eyed, and sometimes even in his adult mindset Daniel found him outside, letting himself swing gently. They've never talked about it, the blurry line that exists between Armand and the child he becomes and the parts of Armand which exist in the undefined area in between the two, and Daniel doesn't think even Armand could sort through where he ends and the child begins. Although, they are all parts of Armand, so in a sense Daniel feels that maybe there is no beginning and ending between the two, rather a mobius strip which encompasses all that Armand has been in his life, the ends always returning to a beginning.

Daniel pushes Armand on the swing for what feels like an hour, although admittedly his sense of the passage of time has become somewhat impaired what with his new immortality and the eons of existence which lay ahead of him. He hears the bus pass twice in the time and can logically work backwards if he chooses to try to figure out how long he's been swinging the kid. He doesn't though. In his vampiric form although he still looks like an elderly man his arms no longer get tired, he doesn't feel winded if he does more than a flight of stairs without a break (although he still puts on the affectation for posterity), and he would happily let Armand swing until sunup if that's what the kid wanted to do. When he steps to the side to see Armand's face its placid, he looks the most utterly at ease Daniel ever sees him, and its like the maelstrom of thoughts and worries which swirl within him are quieted by the predictable rhythm of the swing. There are evenings where Armand giggles and laughs, demanding to be pushed higher faster harder, wanting to see if the swing will go all the way around the support beam. On these nights Daniel will joke and wander off to inspect the flowers they had planted one night as an activity for Little Armand while Armand shrieks and begs for Danny to push him again before he loses his momentum. Sometimes Armand's bright orange eyes will flash with idea and from one second to the next he will be throwing himself from the swing at the top of its arc, soaring through the air while Daniel yells at him to be careful, only to land catlike and proud on their immaculately-maintained grass, another change from Daniel's previous lawn maintenance skills. Tonight Armand is content to pump his legs with the rhythm and feel the breeze on his face but does not seem inclined to any more athletic feats. 

"Mr. Molloy."  The voice in his head would startle him if he wasn't used to Louis popping in to check on his safety with regularity. Daniel has been working on guarding his thoughts with assistance from Armand, a master of hiding behind thrown up barriers, although he isn't planning to engage any multi-decade manipulation with the skill.  Daniel has nothing to hide at the moment though, and allows Louis entry into his mind. Sometimes he thinks he can feel a niggling near the base of his brain stem when he opens his mind to another, although he thinks this is likely the placebo effect at work.  Daniel shares the vision in front of him: Armand viewed from behind, his hair windswept with curls escaping their tie, hands clutching the chains of the swings, dressed more casually than he would ever allow anyone but Daniel to see him. 

"Still doing that with him, are you?" and Daniel rolls his eyes although he doubts that the gesture translates without being face-to-face. He gives the swing another push, gives Armand an extra pat on the back as he moves away from him again.

"Did you have a reason for popping up in my head or were you just coming around to criticize my relationship?" and Daniel can't help the irritation which he's sure translates regardless of the communication method.

Louis does the telepathic equivalent of waving a white flag, which Daniel didn't know was even an option, to communicate ideas rather than words. "I worry about you."  It's surprisingly honest and Daniel's frustration eases just a bit.

"Whatever you had with Armand is in the past. This is what Armand needs now, and he seems to be doing better."  He steps to view Armand in profile, the sharp line of his jaw, his defined brow bone, and the pacifier which rarely leaves his mouth when he's small. He's calm, no hidden emotions under the veneer of serenity, just contentment.

Louis seems satisfied with the answer, wishes him well, and lets him know that Lestat will be heading to New York in a few weeks. Louis is considering tagging along, wants to meet up with Daniel, Armand is left unmentioned and Daniel doesn't push it. When Louis withdraws from his mind he feels himself relax, his shoulders dropping from where they had crept up toward his ears. His rhythm is unbroken and he doubts Armand is even aware Louis has come to him but he recommits to his swing pushing duties with vigor, giving Armand a shove that finally has Armand breaking into giggling, unrestrained laughter.

Finally, when the lingering humidity in the air begins to fade into the more pleasant coolness of the early morning hours Armand drops a sneakered foot to drag in the mulch, slowing his progress to a stop. He stands abruptly, less fluid than is usual for him, and turns toward Daniel. He pulls his pacifier from his mouth but his voice is still small when he says matter-of-factly "you'll need to hunt soon." He pops the binky back into his mouth rather than offering it to Daniel to wash and put away and takes several hard sucks like he's gone into withdrawal from the few seconds he was without it.

"You can stay home or come with me" Daniel says, moving to wrap an arm around Armand's shoulders and lead him back into the house. Armand doesn't answer and Daniel won't probe into his thoughts when he's like this. Armand insists he can't wear his shoes inside so they leave both pairs in a pile outside the door and Armand doesn't fuss to straighten them into a neat row. Daniel can't quite tell where his state of mind is.

Armand's eyes flicker around the living room of their shared home. He seems to be contemplating something and Daniel waits patiently. Sometimes when Armand is small it takes him a bit to sort through his thoughts and decide what he wants to say. His vision falls to the couch several times before flitting away like he's afraid to be caught looking. Daniel makes the connection before Armand gets up the courage to say anything.

"You want to stay home and play iPad." It's a statement rather than a question but Armand nods anyway. He hesitates and Daniel knows there's something on his mind.

"I was bad earlier" Armand says. "I played iPad when I wasn't supposed to."

Daniel doesn't jump to correct him. He's learned through trial and error that Armand doesn't take well to being told his understanding is wrong. "You did get in trouble earlier. You sat in the corner and now you're not in trouble." He pauses to let Armand process this. "Remember what we've talked about?" and Armand thinks for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration, before he shakes his head.  "There are no bad kids. Only bad decisions" and god does Daniel feel like a fucking therapist saying that.

"No bad kids. Only bad decisions" Armand echoes quietly, looking to Daniel for approval. 

"Right. You are Armand. You are young and you are good." Daniel moves to sit on the couch and Armand comes with him, nuzzling into his side.

"I am young and I am good." The inflection is wrong for a statement of belief but Daniel presses a kiss to Armand's forehead anyway. He leans over Armand to grab the iPad and unlocks it, Minecraft still open on the screen. He extracts himself from Armand's long limbs and puts the iPad on a throw pillow in Armand's lap. Immediately Armand's attention is on what appears to be an attempt at organizing a rainbow of square sheep into individual rainbow houses. Armand's little character is flying and has about twenty vividly colored sheep behind it as he jumps across the world. His attention is wholly focused on his game when Daniel drapes his thick blanket over his shoulders and turns the show he had playing when they woke back on. There's a horse in a castle and he has no idea how that relates to any of the other scenes he's managed to catch thus far. 

Daniel slips out the door only a few hours before sunrise, just enough time to catch a quick meal and return home. Armand makes a noise of acknowledgment when he yells he's leaving from the doorway. On the dark sidewalk he watches the glow of the TV screen for a few moments before he goes back to the stoop and locks the door behind him. If Armand saw him he would point out this is unnecessary, he's practically entirely immortal and any one entering would be in far worse danger than he would be. He knows Armand will be fine, absorbed in his game as he is, he won't have moved a muscle from where Daniel's left him on the couch when he gets back. Hell, Daniel thinks he could leave for a week and Armand would be fine to play Minecraft the whole time without the door locked or the security system turned off. Daniel doesn't care though. That's his kid in there.