Archive of Our Own ^beta

Simon really shouldn’t have gone back to Hotel DuMort, and he knew that. It was almost sunrise, and he still hadn’t found an opportunity to get into the building. After all, it wasn’t as if he could just waltz back in after the last time he'd been there. Raphael would have him killed. Well, killed again. So he hadn’t planned on going back.

Except that Simon got hungry. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to feed from a human and be able to stop himself, and he didn’t want to break the accords. It was bad enough not being able to stay at his real home or the Hotel, he didn’t want to get into any more trouble because he was bad at being a vampire. But Simon didn’t exactly know where to source blood either, since Hotel DuMort seemed to have an endless supply when he was there. It was now days since he’d fed, and Simon was beginning to realize that going back was the only option he had, unless he wanted to go running back to Camille (which he really didn’t).

So now he was hunched behind a wall, panicking when he realized just how little time he had left before the sun would be rising. He’d been waiting all night for the place to empty enough that he was willing to risk sneaking in, but the time hadn’t come and his hunger was only growing. If Simon had known starving would hurt this much, he probably would’ve reconsidered breaking off the only ties he had with other vampires. His fangs sat prominently against his bottom lip, cutting into the skin as if to remind Simon that they wouldn't go away.

Knowing that staying out here would only result in a) Simon being fried or b) Simon losing it and killing some mundane, he sucked in a deep breath, which he realized was unnecessary but the fact remained that Simon really hadn’t adjusted very well to becoming a vampire, and he was nervous as hell as he approached the door of the Hotel. So he took a deep breath and turned the corner. He obviously wasn’t using the front door so that there was a lesser chance of him being seen, but it only took one vampire to see and kill him.

As Simon reached for the ornate door handle, it seemed to open of it’s own accord. For a brief moment, he wondered if that was some side-effect of being a vampire nobody had told him about, before he snapped back to reality and saw the person who’d opened the door from the other side, simply staring at him. Raphael.

“You shouldn’t have come back here, fledgling.”

“I know! I know, I know that. I just…” Simon raised his hands, not sure whether he was doing it to show that he came in peace, or in preparation to defend himself. “I don’t know how to do this vampire thing. I don’t know how to feed, or where to go to get-” He stopped talking when the older vampire lifted a finger towards him, seemingly tired of Simon’s rambling before he’d been given a chance to start.

“I guess you should have thought about that before you chose Camille and those shadowhunter friends of yours over us.”

A little more satisfied that Raphael wasn’t about to rip his throat out, Simon lowered his hands, fingernails digging deep into his hands as he tried to get his senses into control. He didn’t have time for this conversation right now, and was just about ready to leave.

“Are you going to kill me or not? ‘Cause if we stay out here much longer, you won’t need to.” Raphael seemed to consider this, looking up towards the sky for a moment before answering the question.

“We’re a family, Simon. I have to do what’s best for the clan, and you don’t seem to understand our priorities.” Simon took that as a no, though he still wasn’t convinced that the older vampire was going to help him. The only reason Raphael had kept him around in the first place was to prove that Camille had broken the accords, and Simon had ruined any chances of that now, so he wasn’t surprised when Raphael said “I can’t let you back in.”

“Well, since you’re not going to kill me, can you at least tell me how I’m supposed to feed?” He couldn’t stand how desperate he sounded, though he didn’t have long to regret it because rather than responding to the question, Raphael pulled Simon by his arm into the shadows, where they couldn’t be seen. Simon thought he must have reconsidered his decision not to kill him, and closed his eyes, expecting Raphael to strike at any moment.

Until he didn’t.

Opening his eyes after a few moments of unfulfilled anticipation, Simon saw that he was merely standing in front of him, neck bared. It took a few moments for Simon to understand, and a few more before he was willing to even look at Raphael.

“It won’t be as good as you’ve become used to at the Hotel, but it’ll keep you sane for a day or two whilst you figure things out.”

After that, Simon wasn’t going to wait around for Raphael to change his mind. As soon as he bit into the flesh of Raphael’s neck, Simon knew that the other would have to stop him forcibly. He had been right, it didn’t taste the same as the blood Raphael had (almost) gotten used to drinking on a regular basis, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. And it was satisfying his need, which was the important part.

He was clumsy, not used to feeding like this, and he found himself spilling as much blood as he was drinking. Placing a hand on the other side of Raphael’s neck to offer some leverage, Simon positioned himself lower to lick up the blood he’d missed, working his way back up to the area he’d bitten. He was sure that he’d never be able to look Raphael in the eye again, but the other vampire didn’t seem to be objecting. In fact, Raphael kept making soft noises as Simon fed from him, though he would probably put that down to the qualities in his saliva that Raphael had been telling him about only a few weeks back.

It seemed an age before Raphael pushed Simon away, a hand firmly on his chest and his footing adjusted so that he was ready to push him back once again, should Simon resist him. He didn’t though, instead just watching Raphael, eyes drawn to his neck where his own mouth had been just moments ago. All he could taste was Raphael, and the evidence of his presence was smeared across Raphael’s skin, as well as spotted on his jacket and his shirt.

“Now go. I don’t want to see you around here again.” There was something in Raphael’s voice that Simon couldn’t quite fathom, but he wasted no time in following his instruction and bolting. He knew that Raphael was angry with him, but now that the leader of the clan had helped him, he was a little more confident that he could come back again to work things out, and not get murdered. Again.