Archive of Our Own ^beta

A proper rainstorm in July was a betrayal of the highest order. Daniel had determined that it ranked among the top five greatest inconveniences a person could experience while taking part in an elaborate game of hide and seek with an immortal. Especially if you were doomed to be on the losing side from the beginning.

Aggravatingly, Daniel could have made it to Miami if the inclement weather hadn’t disrupted the local bus service, forcing him to spend his last money on a motel instead of a ticket out of bumfuck nowhere. And that’s where his vampiric stalker had found him, desperately trying to barter for some form of breakfast with the increasingly irritated front desk clerk. He’d wordlessly slapped down a wad of bills that made Daniel’s handful of pocket change seem even sadder by comparison. 

Armand, the bastard, had flown himself in and then promptly refused to save Daniel from his predicament in the same manner. Worst airline ever. He did, however, have the decency to buy him a stack of pancakes drenched in syrup and chocolate chips, which went some way to smooth out the tension. 

It was just one of the odd moments of care the vampire displayed towards him from time to time. His violent episodes came in waves. Daniel was being spared the brunt of Armand’s outbursts more often than not these days. There had been no repeat of the bathroom incident in terms of severity. Instead the vampire had changed his focus to becoming a living pest. 

One night Armand would have Daniel explain the minutiae of intercontinental phone calls, the other he’d feed him enough take-out to cause nausea and then watch him throw it all up. How much entertainment could one derive from watching a bug get squashed by a boot over and over again? Daniel didn’t want to know the answer, felt sick thinking about the alternative, and yet…

Things had been going rather well for him recently. The chase had awakened some of the instincts that had become dulled by his on-off love affair with substance abuse. His senses were sharper and he felt more alert and, most importantly of all, he was picking up stories at an unprecedented rate. Interesting people seemed to spring up like daisies along his path, regaling him with dirty secrets and youthful regrets. Daniel could hardly pause to drink it all in.

Maybe it was good then that they were stuck in this little town that had nothing but the passing railtrack to distinguish it. He could finally sit down and take a breather, even if he had to do it hunkered down in a tiny shelter that was nothing more than a corrugated sheet perched precariously on top of four rough-hewn wooden supports. All because Armand, possibly in a ploy to drive Daniel insane with boredom, insisted on taking the train south to Miami and beyond. 

The rain beat a steady drum as it poured down from the dark grey sky, creating a suitably atmospheric backdrop. In Daniel’s mind it was as good a place to attempt an awkward conversation as any.

‘I wanna rewind for a bit: what do you actually mean when you say Louis “went into the ground”?’ He asked Armand as they waited for the train’s approach so Armand could bamboozle the train driver into making an unscheduled stop at the rundown platform. The train was already running with a delay, but what else was new. 

Armand barely glanced up from the travel brochure about overnight train routes to respond: ‘It’s exactly what it sounds like.’

Daniel scoffed, already expecting the non-answer. ‘How does that work? You dig a hole in your garden, jump in and let a buddy cover you with dirt while you take a long nap? That’s insane . What if some rando with a metal detector finds you?’ He could just about picture it: an unwitting pensioner taking their shiny new gadget out for a spin and finding an ancient horror buried in their backyard. Would the vampire even wake when they choked the life out of the lucky finder, or would they burn in the sunlight first? He supposed it depended on the age of the vampire.

The images darted across the mental connection that Armand maintained when they were stuck together like this, and the vampire smiled patiently. ‘That’s why we typically avoid burying ourselves in urban areas.’ I’m not giving you any further hints about where Louis is resting, went unsaid. ‘We must maintain sufficient distance between ourselves and areas of development unless there is a coven that can reliably guard you while torpor lasts, which could be as long as a couple of months or literal centuries.’

Parsing the flood of information, Daniel felt like he was finally getting somewhere. Time for a silly question to take the pressure off before he really dug in. 

‘Fair,’ he said. ‘What’s the craziest place you’ve ever slept?’

He expected a low-effort joke answer to that one in return, but Armand surprised him once again. ‘I spent the better part of three centuries inside the Parisian catacombs living a wraith-like existence,’ he began with a lightness completely at odds with the topic. ‘I shared a recess in the wall with a skeleton that had once belonged to a man called Claude. He made for adequate company, although his skull lacked conversational wit.’ Daniel snorted at the vision of a jaunty skeleton witnessing all kinds of depraved demonic bacchanals. Sometimes… the vampire’s understated method of storytelling was almost funny.

At this point, it was obvious he was pushing his luck, but he couldn’t help following up: ‘You stay in touch with anyone from that time?’ He almost wanted to take the question back as Armand’s expression turned somber, a perfect match to the dreary weather.

‘Unfortunately, I never made a lot of friends,’ Armand admitted, barely loud enough to be heard above the clatter of the rain. ‘And the ones I did make met cruel fates, destroyed by other vampires for a loyalty they could not forsake.’

Daniel sensed the shape of an incomplete truth, but the same instinct warned him away from exploiting the strange vulnerability the vampire was exhibiting by talking about his past. Maybe it was the last shred of common decency he had left.

‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ he mumbled, knowing the sentiment came multiple centuries too late for Armand to hear it.

Armand didn’t acknowledge his words, instead moving to the very edge of their shelter and staring out into the rain. This sudden despondency wasn’t a new thing, but remained a little scary to observe. Daniel spent a good five minutes bracing himself for the vampire to turn and drive a fist into his ribcage where his heart beat a nervous patter. But the violent outburst didn’t come and Daniel was left with the sinking feeling that he’d accidentally caused a rift between himself and Armand instead of getting closer to understanding him. He was still struggling with that realisation when the distant grinding of metal signalled the approach of the Silver Star. 

Suddenly anxious to get out of this constant downpour, Daniel was up on his feet in a flash. ‘Please tell me you at least bought us tickets for the ride.’

‘Amtrak will be well-compensated for the inconvenience of another minor delay,’ Armand replied after a beat, flashing him their tickets from the open collar of his shirt. The gesture afforded Daniel a great view of his chest, the attractive swell of his pecks, the elegant swoops of his clavicles… He ripped his gaze away before it could get too hot under his shirt.

‘I splurged on a roomette,’ Armand tacked on as the train slid into view, slowing down to a crawl. ‘We’re going a bit further south than Miami, so you might as well catch up on sleep.’

As much as he wanted to be grateful, he knew there was a hidden motive. ‘What do you need me well-rested for?’

Armand’s face had turned back to its perfect mask-like state, all business. ‘I need your opinion on an investment I’ll be making off the Keys. We’ll be travelling together for some days, I reckon.’ The train came to a halt on the track and a door slid open, revealing a slightly frazzled conductor who beckoned them over. Armand made a beeline for him, unbothered by the drenching rain.

Daniel sighed, resigned, and made to follow him. ‘Whatever you say, Boss.’ Pushing for a reason was meaningless if Armand didn’t offer it up freely. 

The uncertainty, however, wasn’t enough to keep him from falling asleep on the top bunk of the roomette – just the perfect height for him to bash his head in if he were to take a tumble. Armand settled in to peruse even more brochures below, leaving Daniel to secretly wonder what this strange field trip would mean for them in the long run.