Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Robby passes the official welcome sign for Broken Bow about an hour after departing from Lexington. Which was the only larger city before he would reach the town with a proud thirty five hundred residents. He took the time to eat, finding a lovely diner with food greasy enough to feel his arteries choke up, and restock his ammunition supplies. Luckily there were plenty of firearm supply stores in the area that allowed him to purchase large quantities of bullets and shells without drawing much attention. Hell, even if it did draw any attention, the shop owners wouldn’t think much of it. Robby could be written off as a prepper. Not even too far from the truth, really.

Highway 21 takes him on a direct path to Broken Bow. The scenery doesn't vary much. Large swathes of green fields and miles of dirt, smatterings of trees that could never be considered a forest, a house or industrial farm appears every once in a while too. As he nears the town limits the smell of livestock sneaks through the car air conditioning vents and makes his nose burn. Thankfully, his nose adjusts after a few miles of driving through the town and out to the northern fringes. He pulls up to the Whitaker house and takes it in.

The Whitakers are a family business in two ways. The first being their lineage of hunters, going back to the founding of the town in the late 1800s. The second is the bed and breakfast Robby has just arrived at. The house is a large, two story structure made of stone and the land around it serves as the family farm. In the distance Robby can see the classic red barn and some cows grazing. The house paints an inviting picture. The front porch has old wooden rocking chairs and tables for guests. The chimneys on the roof are billowing smoke, indicating fires burning inside to stave off the late February cold. Robby parks off to the side of the building at the end of the lot. Though there are only two cars in the lot and he's in good company…well. Old habits and all that.

The air is just above freezing right now so he hustles toward the entrance. On the porch he pauses to look at the door, he remembers the first time he saw it. It looks the same. He always takes a moment before passing through its threshold. The front door is red with an old metal cross mounted on it, Robby leans in to get a closer look. Barely visible are words etched into the aged silver, they have faded down to nearly nothing with time. He knows it is an old blessing on the family home. Staring at it sends a shiver down his spine, stomach beginning to churn. He feels under his shirt for the Star of David necklace and pulls it out to squeeze it softly in his fist. The metal points stinging the skin and ground him in the moment. He takes a deep, settling breath, tucks the necklace away and enters the inn.

~

Deborah has settled him in the dining room with a bowl of stew he isn’t really hungry for, but he holds it in his hands for warmth. There are only two guests at the inn. They are seated across the room near one of the hearths. Robby keeps one eye on them as he waits for Abraham to come speak with him. They're pretty young for hunters, but Robby himself was only 28 when he started.

The head of the family was still out on the farm when he arrived. Apparently fixing a fence with his sons, but Debbie assured him they would be back for dinner soon. Robby would hate to be trying to drive metal through the barely unfrozen earth right now.

He sits for just a few minutes longer before his senses become aware of a presence behind him. Abraham comes into view, greeting him with a tight smile and taking the chair opposite to him. Abe is a little older than him. He has kind eyes and a few faded scars along his face and neck. Robby knows more are hidden under his flannel and coveralls, but to any average person, Abe looks just like any other professional farmer. The years have worn away at the man, but no more than they have for himself.

“How have you been, Michael?” Abe looks genuinely curious. It had been half a decade since they had seen one another. Longer still that Robby had been to the inn. He knows he must look worse for wear. He's been avoiding people for this reason, he doesn't want to cause any worry about his inability to care for himself. It's just easier that way.

“What’s going on, Abe?” Robby asks, ignoring the question and smirking a little at the way his friend bristles at the nickname. Serves him right with the first name business. There's no reason to get into his personal life. Not if something was going on that meant the Whitakers felt they needed his help.

The man leans in, voice low as he speaks, “We had been seeing a few suspicious disappearances up North for a few weeks. Debbie kept her eyes on it, it wasn’t too many or too much at first. Nothing to ring alarm bells.”

One of the guests stands with a stretch and yawn. Abraham falls silent and Robby picks up for him, keeping his body language casual and eyes peeled. “So, what got the alarm bells ringing? Or really, what is it that you needed my help for?”

He’s not saying it to be rude. Robby is happy to help a fellow hunter when asked, but the Whitaker family aren’t inexperienced or incapable. Hell, Abraham and Deborah practically have their own army, what with the three or four kids. The other hunters shuffle out of the dining room, bidding thanks to Deborah for the meal and heading to their rooms, presumably.

The lack of outsider ears eases the tension in the room. Abraham leans back in his seat and wipes his hand over his face, fingers scratching at his beard. “We’re pretty sure it's a small coven of vampires, taking up residence in one of the old abandoned farms. Just a few miles outside of town.”

Ah. Robby understands now. Even experienced hunters like the Whitakers know to proceed with caution. “How many are we talking about? Do I need to call Jack?”

It’s not ideal. He hasn’t had a productive conversation with Jack in years, but he knows he will come. If the coven is large enough they might need to ask John and his boys too.

“Just three, not like the nest we saw in ‘89” Abraham says, cutting his train of thought. “My oldest two boys have done plenty of hunting but vampires aren’t common these days. I wanted someone who understands the situation to help them learn.”

“I’m always happy to help, Abe.” Robby chuckles and takes a sip of the stew. “And I’ve been told I’m a good teacher too.”

Abe rolls his eyes and laughs along with him. “Well then, you get some rest and we can get together to discuss lesson plans tomorrow. Deb set up a room for you.”

“Does it come with a bottle of Jim Beam?” He stands and stretches, feeling the dull ache in his shoulders from a long day of driving.

“What kind of establishment do you take us for? Of course it does.” Abe gives him the key and Robby goes, hoping sleep finds him before anything else.

 

~

 

Robby wakes up and can feel the wrongness in the air. His eyes dart over to the alarm clock on the bedside table. It’s 11:54 which is earlier than he would typically be asleep, but the bourbon and roadtrip must have finally caught up with him. He sits up slowly and listens. The silence holds for another minute. Then it is broken by a blood curdling wail. Robby’s body moves on instinct. His jeans are pulled up his legs, jacket, boots on and then he grabs his gun. He creeps to his bedroom door, careful of the salt line he’d set up.

Another scream echoes through the inn then abruptly cuts off. He pulls the door open carefully, making sure to hold the knob so it doesn’t click as he shuts it behind him. He shuffles into the dark hallway. His room is at the end of the hall. There are some wall sconces that line the entirety of the walkway leading to the reception area. He makes sure to scan from floor to ceiling as he moves, people forget that a lot of spooks can sit just out of sight up there. It takes one overhead ambush to learn from that mistake- if you live. One of the rooms along the hall has the door cracked open. When he peers inside he sees the two hunters from the dining room sitting a pool of blood on the bed. He moves along with dread growing heavy in his stomach.

The scene in reception is ugly. Abraham and Deborah’s bodies are torn apart, limbs twisted and broken at odd angles. They’ve had their throats shredded too. Robby takes in more details as he moves through toward the opposite hallway. He clears the reception desk and foyer, noting that the front door is shut. He moves on to the parlor. There he finds Douglas the Whitaker’s oldest son. The man’s jaw is ripped off and his head caved in almost flat with a pool of gore around him. He curses softly to himself at the sight, but continues to move around the edges of the room. He hangs tight to the walls, eyes scanning in the dim light of the smoldering fireplace. As he’s scanning the walls and ceiling he finds another of their sons, Jacob, impaled through the chest by one of the mounted bucks. The thick antlers have broken through the front of his chest, but he’s been gutted open too, so his intestines dangle over his jeans. The gears of Robby’s mind begin to turn. That’s four kills. Vampires need their victims alive to feed. Why would they kill so many potential food sources? Even if they just wanted to eliminate the threat of hunters.

Robby finds a third Whitaker son in the dining room. He’s been decapitated, his head seemingly tossed across the room from his body, which still sits in one of the reclining chairs. Robby is almost through to the kitchen when something moves. He goes completely still,holding his breath with eyes locked on to the movement. He sees it again just behind the double doors that connect the dining room to the kitchen, where Deborah would bring plates out to the guests. Robby gets low to the ground, and creeps forward.

He goes for the other entrance to the kitchen behind the bar. He can hear something rustling inside and readies himself to attack. The bullets won’t do much besides temporarily distract a vampire. He will have to find a way to get that fuckers head off. Alone. He curses himself for not grabbing a higher caliber gun, but the only ones with enough power to punch a chunk of a vampire are locked in the trunk of his car. Robby just has to work with what he’s got and hope for the best. He becomes a part of the shadows, keeping his breath silent and controlled as he moves into the kitchen.

The sounds of crying break through the air. It’s muffled sobs and heaves of breath- the sound of someone trying to stay hidden. Robby doesn’t break, he creeps closer to the noise, gun held out in front of him as he faces the source.

Robby recognizes him as the youngest Whitaker child. Somehow spared from the family annihilation that has taken place tonight. The boy is terrified. His eyes are wide and searching Robby’s face but there is no sign of recognition. He must be in shock. Robby thinks his name is Dennis?

“Dennis?” He sees a flicker of recognition in the boy’s face, “Hey, we need to get out of here, now.” Robby grabs the boy around the wrist, tugging him from the corner he has crouched in between the stove and pantry. He has to take them back to his room for his duffel bag and car keys. Then he is shoving the Whitaker boy into the car and tearing out of the parking lot. He just has to make it to Fargo

Chapter Text

The youngest Whitaker child is a crumpled pile in his passenger seat. The heater is on full blast but the boy is still full body shivering, Robby knows it has nothing to do with the cold. The full body sobs had thankfully stopped, but he can hear the congestion in each breath the kid takes. He tries to keep his eyes on the road, but finds himself peeking over, eyes skating over the boy's profile. He can't see much. There are no lights on the empty highway, just the headlights of the car and the old analog radio showing the time as 02:37 am. They still have about 6 hours until they reach Fargo and Jack. Robby knows he could make the drive and he really doesn’t want to stop anyway. He could ride the tails of adrenaline to the North Dakota state line, at least.

Robby finds himself pulling off the highway when they hit Platte anyway. He rolls into the parking lot of a Motel 6 and leaves Whitaker in the car to get a room. The overnight clerk looks barely conscious, slumped over in his chair until the front door bell jingles him awake. The man, white, late thirties appears a little affronted by being woken up, but Robby ignores it. He gives him a handful of cash for a room with two beds and leaves. The room is around the back of the building and Robby reparks the car closer, but not right in front of their door. There’s something off about everything that happened tonight.

The kid hasn’t shown many signs of life since they stopped. Robby gives him a rough shake with a hand on the shoulder. The touch makes him jump, eyes turning on to Robby all wide and terrified. He takes the hand away feeling a little bad, but he doesn’t have time to play babysitter, “C’mon, kid.”

He exits the car and grabs his duffel bag from the backseat. Whitaker moves slowly, opening the car door and climbing out in a daze. Once his feet are on the asphalt, he looks unsure of what to do next. Robby groans under his breath and leads him along by the hood of his jacket, careful not to touch, pushing him through the doorway of their room. Robby lets him go, turning his back to the boy as he flicks on the yellow overhead lights. He doesn’t want to look at his face without the shadows of night. “Just take a shower and get some sleep. I’ll secure the doors and windows.”

The kid doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move so Robby starts to dig out the salt and cat's eye shell powder along with chalk from his bag. He doesn’t turn to look at the boy as he begins warding the entrances to their room. It’s a lot of work to do for the few hours they will be here. He lets muscle memory take over, salt mixture along the window ledges and around the doorway. Eventually, when the wards are nearly finished, Robby hears the shower creak and moan to life. He lets out a long sigh and looks over his work. The wards are good but not like the protection they would have at Jack’s place. He really should have just kept driving.

He realizes suddenly that Whitaker has no other clothes. Shit. This is why he doesn't need to be in charge of any other person's wellbeing. He digs through his duffel bag. He ends up with a faded t-shirt, boxers, and sweatpants that should work. He carries the bundle of clothing to the bathroom and tries the door. He’s surprised when it opens. He wants to scold the kid for not locking it. Instead Robby knocks on the plywood and says, “I’ve got some clothes for you. I’m going to leave them on the counter.”

There’s no response. He nudges the door open, the steam of the shower wafting into his face. He can see Whitaker's shadow through the cheap shower curtain. The kid seems to be just standing under the water not moving. He sets the clothes down awkwardly and closes the door behind him as he leaves.

About ten minutes later the shower cuts off. Robby wonders if there is any hot water left, but then again showering isn’t high on his priority list. There are too many thoughts swirling around in his mind trying to piece together the events of tonight. One of them warns him that it would be risky to leave the kid unattended for any period of time. The bathroom door opens and cuts his train of thought short. A beam of light illuminates a wide sliver of the hotel room. The boy is swallowed up by his clothing. He’s about six inches shorter than Robby, and while not scrawny, his build is not very wide either. He stands awkwardly in the doorway of the bathroom. Robby feels the slightest hint of pity as he looks at him, at the vacant, broken expression on his face. He’s too young for this.

“Go to sleep, kid,” Robby commands gently. That's the only thing that has seemed to break through the fugue state. Robby watches from his own bed, propped up against the wall with the thin pillows. He won’t get much sleep himself, but hopefully he’ll manage to doze off for a few minutes.

Whitaker gets in the bed slowly but still it creaks under his weight. He lays down and faces the wall opposite to Robby. Thankfully he continues to remain calm. It takes a little over an hour but eventually the boy falls asleep.

~

Surprised that he actually managed to doze off, Robby wakes up as the sun begins to shine through the curtains. He looks over to his temporary ward still deep in sleep. He climbs off the bed with a grunt. His neck and back are aching, but it is not the worst he has ever felt. Robby changes clothes, cleans up the salt lines, and wakes the boy up. He can see the peaceful expression of sleep slip away from him as the events of last night come back. Whitaker sits up, thankfully less shell shocked than the night before.

“We need to head out,” Robby tells him. He internally cringes at the words. The boy nods as the world settles to his conscious mind. Whitaker heads to the bathroom, changing back into his old clothing and handing Robby the loaned ones with a soft “thank you”. Robby gives him a good look over. His jeans and flannel are a little dirty but thankfully not covered in a suspicious amount of blood. The process of packing up is brief and quiet. They get into Robby’s car and he drives around town in search of a quick meal.

Robby sends a half-hearted thanks to the heavens as they roll up to Wilfred’s, a local diner with a low profile. They get seated in a booth near a window. Robby keeps his attention to the world outside trying to distract himself from the boy across from him. The sky is clear of clouds, Robby notes, the ride up to North Dakota should be easy. A waitress named Tammy greets them, takes their orders, and drops a coffee pot at their table at Robby’s insistence. He will probably drink the whole thing while they're here, and he doesn't want Tammy circling them like hawks to refill his mug.

He’s about halfway through the second cup when the kid speaks.

“I wasn’t…I didn’t hunt,” Dennis says, his voice barely above a whisper. “My dad tried to teach me, but I didn’t want to…I wanted… I just got accepted into medical school. I was going to get out of Broken Bow.”

Robby feels some part of his shriveled up heart ache for the kid. Dennis is curled in on himself, head dipped low between his shoulders, eyes on the scratched table top. Robby doesn’t know what to say to that, so he says nothing.

“If I had learned, I could have helped them,” Dennis’ voice is thick with tears again. “I should have done something.”

“Kid, no single hunter can take on a vampire.” Robby’s not the person for emotional support, but there is no reason for this kid to take the blame. “Hunting vampires requires a group and plan. This type of attack…hell we’re lucky we’re alive.”

That fact still confuses Robby. There’s no way the vampires didn’t know they were there. It gives him a terrible feeling that he’s been given a puzzle without all the pieces. None of it fits. He puts those thoughts away as Tammy returns with their food. Robby immediately digs in. By nature he eats quickly and has finished a third cup of coffee while watching Dennis push around the eggs and toast on his plate. He should just leave it be, but he hears himself saying, “Eat something. We’ve got a while before we make it to Fargo.”

Dennis’ eyes flick up to him at the direct command. His baby blues are flat and framed by deep shadows. It makes Robby’s skin start to crawl so pours himself a fourth coffee and drinks half of it down in one go to avoid the gaze. Without another word, the kid eats a few bites of scrambled eggs and about half of his toast before pushing his plate away. Good enough. Robby signals the waitress over and pays their tab.

He slips in a Robert Bradley Blackwater Surprise CD before they get back on the road. He’s not in the mood for more conversation or haunted looks. The country highway is wide open as they head north. Robby hopes Jack can give him some insight. He knows the kid is better off with him, too.

Chapter Text

The drive isn’t tense, but Robby still feels relieved when they make it to Jack’s house. He hasn’t called to let the man know he was coming so when they get to the house, he takes care to warn Whitaker about the “alarm system”. Of course, they make it about ten feet from the car before the kid activates a tripwire. Robby leaps at him, throwing them both to the ground as silver tipped arrows begin to fly where they had been standing. His entire body is over Whitaker who is clearly beginning to freak the fuck out. Before Robby can roll off of him, the kid bucks him off, the strength of someone with a lifetime of physical labor coming out. Robby lands on his back with a surprised huff as the breath gets knocked out of him.

This is, of course, how Jack finds them. There’s the sound of a safety clicking back into place and then Jack laughing. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Whitaker has gotten to his feet, eyes still looking a bit wild until he sees Robby on the ground. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He leans down and offers a hand to Robby.

He doesn’t take it. He grunts with a little pain from the fall, but gets to his feet. He turns his attention to Jack, whose got a twelve gauge leaned against his shoulder. “We need to talk about something.”

”I figured since you only ever visit when you need something,” Jack snarks, he points with his eyes toward Whitaker. “Who is this?”

“Wh-“ Robby starts.

“Dennis Whitaker, sir,” Whitaker cuts Robby off, sticking his hand out to Jack.

Jack raises an eyebrow, but meets the boy for a handshake. “Abraham and Deborah’s son? Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jack Abbot.”

“Ohhkay, introductions complete. Let's get inside now.” Robby starts for the door, “Make sure the kid doesn't set off any more of your boobytraps.”

~

They discuss the attack. Robby gives the details of what he saw and Dennis tells his side. The poor kid looks exhausted from just remembering the experience, so Jack shows him to one of the spare bedrooms.

Robby can hear their voices muffled through the walls. He listens patiently for the sound of footsteps as Jack heads back down the stairs.

On his return, Jack pours them both a glass of whiskey, sliding it across the kitchen island to him. He takes a long swallow and levels a look at Robby, “So…what now?”

The look. That look that demands Robby sit and have an actual conversation with him. Robby drinks the whiskey down first and hands it back to Jack for a refill. His friend gives him a grim smile as he pours out another. Robby rolls the textured glass between his palms as he speaks. “Now I start looking for these vampires. Abe gave me some information about their last known whereabouts, I can meet up with Collins and Dana to see if they’ve heard anything.”

“And if it wasn't the vampires?” Jack’s expression tells him that the man isn't asking for hypotheticals.

“Then I guess I’ll come back for your expertise.”

Jack glares at him. “If there's anything left of you, old man.”

Robby can't help but laugh. It breaks the tension and Jack decides to laugh with him. Then a little more seriously, Jack asks,“What about the kid?”

Right. Robby stretches his legs out and hums. “Well, I was hoping you would take him. We both know he shouldn't be with me.”

Jack nods. “Sure, I’ll let him stay here until he can get on his feet.”

Alright, situation handled. He is no longer in charge of anyone but himself again. He waits for a little rush of relief at his freedom, but it doesn't feel quite as good as he had expected.

 

~

After another 6 drinks and prodding questions about his mental well being Robby excuses himself for the night. The whiskey is burning up a hole in his chest now and the tums in his bag are calling his name. Damn, it sucks getting old. The alcohol has made the world soften at the edges though which is nice. Partly due to him letting himself bask in the rare safety of Jack’s home, warded and booby trapped to hell and back. As he heads toward the guest room upstairs he is surprised to find that he needs to grip the handrail for balance. At the landing, there are three doorways, the one immediately to his right is the one he has always been designated. He wants to bee-line for until he sees Whitaker lingering in the entrance of his own room. The look on his face tells Robby he has something to say. He isn't sober enough for whatever this is.

“I know you want to leave me here with Mr. Abbot,” Whitaker meets his eyes as he speaks, not giving the man any escape. “I understand why but….please don’t.”

“Kid…” Robby starts. He wants to find the words to let him down easy. Afraid to cause more damage.

“Please, I would like to learn from you, sir.” Whitaker steadies himself, standing taller, determined in the way Robby remembers being so many years ago. “I want to be able to protect myself and others. My father always said you were a good man. That you helped people.”

Robby wobbles on his feet, legs threatening to drop out from under him. Shit. Whitaker rushes towards him, but Robby catches himself against the wall and holds him away with a hand to the chest. “Let me think on it, okay?”

Whitaker nods, looking down with a hurt expression as he responds with, “Yes, sir.”

It's wrong and a testament to the fact that Robby has lost part of his soul, but that looks and those words send a heat through his core. His palm is pressed to the soft but firm pectoral muscle under the kid’s shirt. He gives it a soft squeeze without thinking. Whitaker’s eyes shoot back up and Robby panics, giving him a push back towards the open door to his room. Robby shoves open the door to his own room, mumbling the words, “Get some sleep, it's been a long day.”

He shuts and locks the door behind him and curses out loud. Thankfully the bed is neatly made up and begging him to get inside. So after stripping out of two day old clothes he lets himself fall into a rare deep sleep.

~

The kid ends up leaving with Robby the next morning. He doesn’t even have the excuse of drunk judgement. It was sitting there at the table with Jack and Whitaker, the air so thick with tension it made him want to throw up. The guilt of the death of his friends pushes him to the decision. So, Whitaker gets in his car and they drive East. Robby refuses to think about all the ways this will end up biting him in the ass. He particularly ignores the way the kid looks at him and the twisted desire it sparks inside of him.

~

Dennis has been learning the ropes of paranormal research. Robby shows him how to identify the strange notes in a news report that can indicate a paranormal occurrence. After about a week of digging, Robby finds a forum post of someone, presumably a teenager, discussing the weird happenings at their house. Normally it could easily be written off as a scary story told by an anonymous user. However the retellings are tinged with too much fear and confusion. The original poster seems desperate for any explanation besides the paranormal. Dennis gets the guy's email to talk to him more about the situation. After a few days of conversation they find themselves in Salina, Kansas to meet with the poster for coffee. They are posing as the television brand of ghost hunters. The guy, Lionel, seems pretty freaked out during the entire interaction and Robby can visibly see the way stress is causing his body to deteriorate. He is already pretty convinced this is the real deal. Lionel invites them to come to his house shortly after they finish their drinks.

They follow Lionel home. When they get there the man seems to be a little more antsy, eyeing them up with a sense of suspicion just a little too late. Robby makes a show of grabbing his “ghost hunting” bag and Whitaker pulls out a camcorder and makes sure to mention it is “infrared” to catch spirits. Lionel relaxes some. The house gives Robby the creeps as they walk up to the door, but he doesn’t mention it.

They get inside and Lionel paces awkwardly, waiting on them and looking furtively around the room. Robby thinks it would be best to get some distance from him. “Hey Lionel? We need to do a thorough walk through. Is that okay?”

“Oh. Yeah, I’ll just…hang out here.”

“Is there anywhere in particular you have noticed ghost activity?” Dennis chimes in, waving the camera around.

“Not really,” Lionel shrugs. “I have had weird shit happen in every room. I wish I just had one safe space.”

Dennis' face molds into a sympathetic frown.“We’ll set up some equipment around the house and see what we find, okay?”

With that they start going through the house. Eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Robby looks for any strange objects that could have brought in a spirit. The haven’t seen much yet.

“So, what are we looking for?” Robby has an EMF reader out as they linger in the guest bedroom, away from Lionel’s ears. The lack of activity hasn’t dissuaded Robby but he can tell Whitaker is growing antsy. Ghosts' preferred hours are unfortunately in the wee hours of morning. That means another late night in the books.

“Uh, an elevated EMF reading, cold spots, apparitions.” Dennis looks ready to leave. “We haven’t seen anything and we’ve been here for over an hour. Is this guy just crazy?”

Robby chuckles. Kids think everything is like the movies. “Ghost hunting is more of a waiting game unfortunately.”

He turns the EMF detector off though and tucks it away. “We’ll have better luck later tonight. Let's get some dinner and come back.”

“I saw an Olive Garden in town,” Dennis says, waggling his eyebrows around, “Unlimited soups and salads.”

“Sounds good to me.”

 

~

After a good meal, they return. The home owner took off to a hotel for the night so they could continue their investigation. A sign of true desperation or insanity. The guy has reported paranormal occurrences all over the house so they can’t just sit and wait. They split up since they’ve gotten a feel for the floor plan. Around 12 am, Robby is inspecting some strange marks on the baseboards when he hears a yelp and a thud from downstairs. He gets to the top of the stairs and hears a loud crash. Robby sprints down the stairs, scanning all the open spaces he passes. He finds Whitaker on the kitchen floor clearly trying to catch his breath. The kitchen cabinets are dangling off the wall, plates and glasses shattered on the tile.

Robby’s EMF detector is beeping and vibrating like crazy. He tucks it into his back pocket and helps Whitaker off the floor. “Are you okay?”

“A ghost just beat my ass,” Dennis responds out of breath. He’s definitely a little beat up but nothing serious from Robby’s assessment.

Robby laughs, trying to cover it with his hand. “Happens to the best of us. I guess now we know this guy isn’t bullshitting.”

Dennis groans as Robby pulls him out of the house. He lets the kid take a breather while he pulls some supplies out of the trunk.

Robby shows him the procedure for purifying a house, but his gut tells him it won’t be enough. Still, he has Whitaker work on the jars. Each is filled with crossroads dirt, angelica root, and van van oil to be placed inside the walls. One will be placed in the cardinal directions to purify the house. They return to the house and place the jars. Dennis cringes at having to punch holes in the drywall, but Robby reasons that it is worth the repairs to avoid being haunted. The last jar goes in and the response is immediate. The spirits rattle the walls and make a mess. Pictures coming off the wall, furniture flying around. It’s a real big show as they fight the cleansing spell. When it stops on a dime, Robby knows they have more work to do.

Robby calls the owner first thing in the morning and tells him that things are still getting worked out. He puts Dennis to work researching the history of the house now that they know the exact location. They manage to lock down the burial site after a few hours. They have to wait for the sun to go down before they desecrate graves, though. In the time in between, Robby walks him through the process. Dig, salt, and burn.

They arrive at the Gypsum Hill Cemetery at nine. The grave they are looking for is old. They go for the section of the cemetery that looks the most unkempt. The grave of their spirit is one of the last ones in the section. He and Dennis get to work, each armed with a shovel as they dig down to the remains. The night still has the chill of early spring but they are quickly coated with sweat. Robby is thanking his lucky stars that the ground isn’t still frozen. After two hours of digging, their shovels hit something hard. Robby leans down and pries the coffin open to find the remains of Jonathon Baker, their poltergeist.

Dennis doesn't balk at the sight of bones and withered old flesh. He has no issues pouring the gasoline and salt over the remains and dropping in the match. The fire grows fast, turning blue and Robby knows they’ve done it as he hears faint whispers and moans in the wind.

Robby watches the kid more than he watches the remains burning away, he watches the fire reflected in Dennis’ eyes. His expression is a mixture of pride and awe. The fire puts itself out naturally and they make quick work of piling the dirt back over the grave. Robby is exhausted by the time they finish. He’ll call Lionel tomorrow. Right now, he focuses on getting to the motel to go the fuck sleep.

~

Robby stops outside their room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag and sits in the cool night air. It's a little past eleven and there are no other guests hanging out in the parking lot. He exhales slowly to watch the smoke drift up towards the dim overhead light. Dennis lingers around him. The kid is buzzing the exhilaration and adrenaline from the hunt. Robby smothers the smirk as he watches the kid build himself up to speak. “Can I-uh- have one of those?”

He is covered with a sheen of sweat from digging up the grave. The exhaustion hasn't hit him yet, but Robby knows he will wake up tomorrow sore in places unfamiliar.

“Sure,” Robby says around his smoke and digs the pack out of his pocket. He opens the pack and holds it out to him. Dennis’ fingers are shaking ever so slightly as he grabs a cigarette and the lighter from the box. It takes all his might not to laugh as Dennis fumbles around with the cigarette, not quite sure how to hold it. He really shouldn't mess with the kid, but the urge is too strong. Robby plucks them from his hands, he pushes the cigarette to Dennis’ lips, “Just hold it in your mouth and breathe in when I get the flame up, okay?”

Dennis has been caught off guard with his eyes almost bugging out of his skull. He nods and wraps his lips around the butt. Robby tracks the movement without meaning to. When he looks back up to Dennis’ eyes the kid has gone red in the face. Robby flicks the lighter in one smooth and the flame pops out.

“Breathe,” He reminds the kid. Then he takes a small step back. Dennis’ first inhale is a little too strong. He coughs a little, but recovers quickly and then it is just the two of them having a smoke.

When Robby finishes his cigarette he reaches out and puts his hand on Whitaker’s neck, giving him a squeeze. Apparently he's just giving in to all his base urges today. “You did pretty good out there, kid. A lot better than my first hunt.”

“What was your first hunt?” Dennis’ turned those eyes on him. The damned kid. Robby wishes he could teach him how to control his face, to hide that admiration Robby doesn’t fucking deserve. He chooses to ignore the other things he can see in that look.

Robby lights another cigarette and looks away. He hopes that he can wait out the awkward silence. Hopes that the kid will take the hint that he’s not trying to share his so-called tragic backstory.

“…Sir?” Of course not.

The memory has not faded. The passage of time has not dimmed the pain at all, the details have not slipped away with the decades. Robby can still see Adamson’s face in the emergency room as their deceased patient suddenly sat up in her bed and grabbed him. The way her mouth had morphed into a pit of razor sharp teeth and sunk into his mentor's neck. Robby had run, straight out of the hospital. He’d gotten a block away before he remembered the other staff members and the patients. He had turned back, heart threatening to burst out of his chest and the fear trying to lock his body into stone. He remembers getting back to the ER doors and seeing the blood everywhere. What he now knows was a fledging vampire turned as they were trying to save her only to become the first meal of her undead life.

“My first hunt was a vampire.” He hears Dennis take a sharp breath. “I was a resident doctor at a hospital in Pittsburgh when one turned under our care. It killed my mentor and I…started looking into the secrets of the world.”

“Did you kill it?” Whitaker asks. The proximity of his voice makes him look up. The kid is closer to him, standing just inches away, his cigarette burning itself down to the butt in his hand.

Robby plucks the cigarette from his fingers with his free hand, takes the last drag off of it and crushes it under his boot. “Yeah, I did. I had some help though.”

Dennis nods to indicate for him to continue. Robby takes another long pause to figure out the best way to explain this.

“I ended up meeting your parents on that hunt, and we ran across a nest together,” Robby remembers the Whitakers freshly married. The bed and breakfast was still run by Deborah’s parents back then. The couple were getting their own experience at hunting spooks. “They were freshly hitched, you kids not even a twinkle in their eye.”

He hopes the reminder will make Whitaker back up. That he has thirty years on this kid who can’t hide the want in his eyes. He knows that hunting puts that buzz under your skin, but he isn’t the person Dennis needs to work it out with. The thought of it, of how easily Robby could have him, how he would fall apart under his hands… He focuses on his self-disgust to push it away.

“That fledgling had found itself a home with the nest. Your parents and I stalked them for months… hunting vampires takes a lot of time and planning.” Robby can remember the joy of meeting Abe and Debbie for the first time. It was nice having someone to cover your back. Something he hasn't had in a long time. “We took our time chasing them around and killing them off one by one.”

Robby can feel the muscles in his back starting to scream at him. He needs to sleep soon. “It wasn't as flashy as a big ambush on their location but we got ‘em. Every last one.”

With that, Robby finishes his own cigarette and moves to go inside. Dennis’ hands come to his chest, pushing gently to stop him. He’s too close now. Robby can smell his sweat and has to look down to meet his eyes. The boy doesn’t look like he knows what to do now. Robby goes to push past him and ignore whatever he thinks he might do. Dennis hands fist in his shirt, “Robby.”

He leans up and tries to pull Robby down, but the older man grabs his wrists and pushes him away. He holds Whitaker’s wrists tight enough that it might just bruise. He looks as stern and serious as he can as he says, “Don’t.” Then he lets go and goes inside to shower.

Chapter Text

After a month of haunts and a few cursed artifacts, Dennis finds reports of a missing camping group in the Blackwater Ridge. A group of college seniors took a camping trip to celebrate their upcoming graduation, but none of them made it home. The park rangers found one body a week after the trip was supposed to have ended. Or well, they had found parts of a body. After a little digging, Dennis realizes that there have been more disappearances in the same camping ground.

“Look, there’s been a camping group that goes missing here every 10 years! Always in the spring, always within five miles of the same camping ground.” Dennis sounds proud of his discovery, he hands Robby a pile of news reports he’s printed, standing like a child presenting their science fair project. “I think we found something.”

Robby puts down his own research. Collins has sent him a list of suspicious deaths across the Midwest. All of the bodies have been found almost completely drained of blood with bodies showing signs of intense abuse. In her research there are the cases from Nebraska that Abraham had been telling him about. The most recent body was discovered in Barnesville, Minnesota. He looks over the news reports from Dennis, glancing over it he has an idea of what it could be. He sets the pages down on the table of their hotel kitchenette and looks at Dennis over his readers. “So, what do you think it is?”

Dennis shifts on his feet. “Werewolf? Or…skinwalker, maybe?”

Robby hums, considering the two. Dennis bites his bottom lip. Robby forces himself to look away and takes a drink of his coffee. “What was the moon phase when these kids went missing?”

”Well, uh,” Dennis stutters. “I don’t know, but werewolves don’t always need a full moon to shift.”

“True, but if they found one victim in pieces it would need to be a full transformation.” Robby tries not to enjoy the way Dennis crumbles. It’s been about a month of on the job training for Dennis. They’ve found a few easier hunts, like the poltergeist and the woman in white. This is the first case that will require them to both get really dirty. He wants to see what Dennis has learned so far. Especially if they might be close to finding the vampire coven. He’s got the foundations, Abraham would never let his children grow up blind to the world around them. But hunting is like a muscle that has to be worked continuously, the knowledge will slip away.

Robby thinks Dennis has had enough time to stew, so he says, “I don’t like a skinwalker for this. What else could it be?”

Dennis finally sits down at the table. His fingers tap on this linoleum surface as he thinks. “Its a bit out of the typical range, but a Wendigo could fit the timing pattern and have enough strength to cause the… injuries.”

“Good,” Robby smiles. “Now tell me how we kill it?”

“Fire,” Dennis blurts, then when Robby raises an eyebrow continues, “You have to burn the heart out of it.”

“Well it looks like we’re going to take a hike, Whitaker. Get dressed.” Robby stomps down the tendril of fondness that tries to grow as he watches the kid scurry off to get ready.

~

They get to the campground and find there’s a mandatory check point with a park ranger. The park ranger is in his early thirties by Robby’s estimation and just a bit too chipper for his taste. Maybe it is just the Wisconsin accent grating on his nerves.

“Whatcha folks doing out here?”

“Hunting, it's wild turkey season.” Robby replies, he hands the ranger the forged permit and prays.

”Ooooh, fun!” The man barely glances at the paper before handing it back. “I just love seeing father and son hunting trips. It reminds me of the ones I took with my dad.”

Dennis chokes in the seat next to him, and Robby cuts a glare at him. The kid gives him a wicked little grin and leans over to give him a one-armed hug. “Yeah, it’s our family tradition! We always have a great time.”

Robby is going to kill him. But he leans into it anyway, ruffling Dennis’ hair and petting the back of his neck, “My boy’s about to start medical school in the fall. Probably the last trip we will do for a while.”

When he looks back over at Whitaker the kid is blushing all the way down to his neck. Checkmate.

“Well, you stay safe out there! Happy Hunting.” With that the interaction ends and they roll the car deeper into the woods, finding a parking lot about a half mile away from where the missing college students set up camp. Whitaker keeps giggling under his breath as they strap on weapons from the trunk.

“You having fun, son?” Robby teases.

“Sure am, Dad.” That little shit. Robby makes him do a sound off of every weapon and double checks that they both have a flare gun and extra flares. Whitaker is definitely starting to get annoyed by the third time Robby asks him what they are looking out for once they get into the woods. His face is all screwed up with an attitude as he says, “Let’s just go already.”

They start down the path that leads to the campsite. The area is cleared out from tents - most campers probably scared off by the story. They keep their eyes peeled for scratches in the barks of trees and blood. Robby did some digging on the geography of these woods and learned that some caves are hidden in the landscape. Wendigoes are active at night, slumbering in hidden places while the sun is out. So it is no surprise to him that they can’t find a solid trail for the creature. After a few hours, the sun begins to set and they settle in next to a large red oak tree. Robby helps Whitaker start a fire with the hope that the wendigo is drawn to the signs of life.

At around nine o’clock they hear it howling in the woods. The stolen voice of the missing boy is screaming for help in the distance. Dennis instinctively jolts when it starts. Robby grabs him by the arm to hold him in place. He leans in, telling himself it is just to keep the noise to a minimum, to whisper in his ear, “Remember, it wants to lure you out alone. We need to bring it here.”

Dennis slowly relaxes in his grasp and nods. Robby might hold him longer than he needs to, but Dennis doesn’t mention it.

It takes another thirty minutes before they hear movement in the woods. There has been an ambient rustling of tree branches and the song of insects. Then all of a sudden the forest goes quiet. It makes the hair on Robby’s neck stand up and goosebumps bloom on his skin. He regulates his breathing to keep calm. There’s a dark flash in the trees in front of them. It moves faster than any human could. He swings his knee into Whitakers to make sure the kid is ready. Whitaker smoothly pulls the flare gun from where it is strapped to this thigh and loads it with a flare.

Not much time passes before the beast steps into their small clearing. The wendigo is hardly more than an animated skeleton. The once human flesh clinging to the bones in some places and sagging in others. They are on their feet in a few seconds, spreading apart until one is a 3 o’clock and the other at the 6. The wendigo creeps closer, head swinging between them as it tries to determine where to attack first. Robby creates the distraction by lunging into the creature’s space and stabbing it in the side. It wails at the attack and turns its attention to him. Robby avoids looking to see if Dennis is following the plan, one hand on his own flare gun just in case. The wendigo advances on him in a blur of motion. Robby just barely manages to get out of the way and run for the trees. The wendigo plays chase and follows him, exposing his front to Dennis. Unable to stop it, Robby looks at the kid.

Robby watches as Dennis shoots it with a flare gun. His hands are steady and his aim hits true. As the flare lands on the creature's chest it lets out a howl that makes Robby’s ears hurt. The creature claws at itself, trying to snuff out the flame but the kid sends another flare at it. The second shot immediately engulfs the wendigo’s arms. The ancient, dehydrated skin is the perfect conductor and soon the entire body is burning. As it dies the wendigo’s screams warble between human and not. In a last ditch effort the creature throws itself to the ground and some of the forest begins to burn. Robby hurries to stomp out the small fires and as the beast finally dies.

Dennis is buzzing with adrenaline again and Robby doesn’t have it in him to tease him for it. The same energy has taken root in his own bones. It was a good hunt. He keeps thinking about the way Dennis shot, how strongly he held the flare gun and didn’t hesitate. The kid can handle himself, that is for sure.

~

They are doing a debrief on the motel couch. This has become something of a routine. Robby quizzes the kid about their hunt and ways that things could have been better or worse. Today they stopped to get a six pack and have almost finished it. He’s about to ask Dennis about his impressive shooting skills when the mood shifts. They’re pretty close together right now, somehow having subconsciously shifted closer, and their faces are only inches apart. The words die in Robby’s throat as he meets Dennis’ gaze. Jesus Christ. He still hasn’t learned how to keep his emotions hidden. Dennis’ tongue wets his lips and Robby can’t help but stare. When he looks up, the kid is staring at him. He leans in without thinking.

When Dennis kisses him Robby’s self control doesn’t put up much fight. He kisses back, tongue prying apart Dennis’ lips to let himself inside. He tastes the cheap beer and cigarettes. Dennis’ hands grab his shirt and pull him even closer, he follows without resistance. His hands are on Whitaker's hips, digging into the slight softness there. He wants to devour him whole. He pushes Whitaker down onto the couch and crawls on top of him. Whitaker’s legs spread wide to accommodate him and Robby nearly growls when he feels the younger man already hard. He grinds his hips down into Dennis. He whimpers into Robby’s mouth. The sound is eaten up but he is determined to hear it again so he keeps rolling his hips again and again. Each movement elicits another sweet noise from Dennis. Eventually he breaks their kiss to breathe. His own cock is achingly hard and his thoughts are spinning out of control.

They are dry humping he realizes. In the back of his mind, Robby feels ridiculous. He’s about to come just from over the clothes heavy petting - something he didn’t even do as a teenager. It’s just the way Dennis is so desperately rutting against him, his nails digging sharply into his shoulders, moaning at each grind of their bodies. It's too much. Robby wants. He bites down hard on Dennis’ exposed neck and sucks a bruise. He bites all over both sides of Dennis’ neck and chest while pinning him to the couch. Dennis’ mouth is free now and he has started rambling, the words don't make much sense. A lot of “please” and “oh god”.

Dennis wraps a leg around his waist and tugs him even closer, gasping out, “Please, I’m going to- I need-“

He wants to fuck Dennis through the couch. He wants to wring those sweet noises and tears out of him. His hands slide down Dennis’ body, fingers slipping under his jeans and digging into the soft meat of his ass. One of his fingers presses right over the textured flesh of his hole. Dennis pushes back into it, making the tip of his finger slip inside just a bit. Robby pulls off from the dark hickey he has sucked under the boy's ear and says, “You were a good boy today.”

Dennis moans and his hands claw down his back as he comes then and there. Robby moves quickly to stick his free hand between them and rips open the fly of his jeans, getting his cock pulled over the waist band of his underwear to jerk himself off.

Dennis’ hand replaces his soon after. It's just a little nervous, grip a little too light, but Robby wraps his hand over his and shows him just what he wants. Robby pushes the finger a little deeper inside of Dennis and comes feeling him squeeze down on it.

They lay there for a minute, breathing hard as they recover from their orgasms. Dennis’ hand goes up to pet Robby’s hair and he realizes how badly he has fucked up. He climbs off of Dennis and buckles his pants back up. He can feel the confused stare the kid is giving him but he avoids looking at his face.“That was… a mistake.”

“What?” Dennis’ voice is hoarse. Robby’s eyes betray him, he gets a quick look at Dennis’ devastated face. He needs to nip this in the bud now.

“I..” Robby starts. “This can’t happen. This is bad. You don’t really want this, kid. I can’t give you what you want.”

Before Dennis can say anything else Robby goes to the bathroom, locks the door behind him and takes a long shower. When he comes back out Dennis has fallen asleep. Robby feels sick to his stomach as he lays in his own bed, but he knows this is what’s best for them both.

Chapter Text

They haven’t talked about it. Well, Whitaker has tried but Robby manages to shake him each time with a new research topic or a new hunt to test a new technique. In the times where they don't have an active hunt, Robby throws himself into tracking the vampires. That works effectively to pull the kid’s focus, it seems like whatever anger he has for Robby he is directing toward the search for his family's killer. When the trail starts to run dry Robby swallows his pride and decides to go see Dana. He doesn't tell Whitaker much about his friend except that she should be able to give them some answers on their next steps.

Dennis is used to the long road trips by now. He's currently oscillating between trying to take a nap while sitting up and trying to switch the music. Robby’s getting hungry and tired and snaps at him when the kid switches the station to some screeching metal music. “Don't you know that the driver picks the music?”

He swats Dennis’ hand away from the dial and turns it until he finds something that doesn't make his ears bleed.

“You're such a grumpy old man, y’know that?” Dennis pouts and sinks down into his seat. Robby doesn't dignify that with a response. The kid takes that as encouragement to keep going. “Like seriously, do you ever get that giant stick out of your ass?”

“I’m going to abandon you at a gas station like a puppy if you don't stop.” It's a bit too mean, but Robby can't help himself. As time has passed, the kid has continued to worm his way under his skin. It's been a problem for a while now. Robby finds himself responding to Dennis in unfamiliar ways.

Dennis mutters something under his breath but doesn't say much else for the rest of the drive to Louisville. Robby tries to enjoy the silence but each mile closer to Dana makes tension coil up tight inside him.

~

Robby steels his nerves and knocks on the door. He makes sure to keep a smile on his face as Dana swings open the door. Even when she looks over the two of them and gives him a piercing look like she can see every sin. “Hey Dana.”

She addresses Dennis, “Well hey there, sweetheart. Oh, I recognize that face! You must be one of Debbie’s boys.”

She reaches an arm out to give him a hug. As soon as her hand brushes Whitaker’s shoulder she lets out a gasp and her eyes gloss over a bit. “Oh you poor thing. I’m so sorry, Abe and Debbie were some of my closest friends.”

Her vision focuses again and Robby looks over to watch Dennis’ reaction. Confusion, grief, and fear all cycle across his features. “What…” He looks at Robby with a stricken expression, “How?”

Robby reaches a hand out to touch him but thinks better of it. Dana has already got that squinted look on her face. Instead he says, “Why don't we go inside and I’ll explain.”

Dennis looks halfway to bolting, but Robby gives him his best pleading look. Dana steps back into the house and holds the door as they step through. She leads them into the living room filled with cross stitched pillows and plants. “Why don't you have a seat, I’m going to make some coffee. Looks like Robby could use some.”

Robby is beginning to forget why he even calls this woman his friend.

“Because your world would fall apart without me,” Dana responds to his thoughts. And whatever, yeah, it just might. She gives him a wink as she walks away.

As soon as she's out of the room Whitaker explodes.

“What the actual fuck is happening?” Dennis demands. Robby has taken a seat on the couch as Dennis paces in front of him. He looks at him with a betrayed expression and says, “What did you tell her?”

“I didn't tell her anything, Dana’s a medium. She can sense things,” Robby replies. Dennis rolls his jaw as he absorbs that information. Robby already knows what's coming next so he continues, “I didn't tell you because experiencing…her… firsthand makes it easier to get over the skepticism.”

It's expected that Dennis won't believe him. He didn't really believe in Dana’s abilities until she had whispered out one his darkest secrets. Something he hadn't ever actually said out loud to anyone. Still, he hopes they don't have to argue this point for very long. Dana can be a little cruel in teaching doubters a lesson. He does not need that in his life.

He's caught off guard when Dennis just says, “Okay. That makes sense, I guess.” And sits down on the couch next to him.

Right on cue, Dana is shuffling back into the living room with three mugs of coffee. She hands one off to each of them and sits down in her armchair. “So, you need help finding some vampires?”

Robby chuckles,“If you know the answer, why do you always ask?”

“Thems the rules, Robinavitch. You have to ask for my help.” She's giving him her very best unamused stare, but he knows it's a joke. They've done this song and dance plenty of time before.

“Okay then, Dana can you help us find the vampires responsible for the Whitakers’ deaths?” The words sober up the mood significantly as he says them. He can feel the uncomfortable energy radiating off of Dennis. He feels bad about the glib attitude, but that's the way he's learned to cope. He sips his coffee to choke down the guilt.

Dana looks at Dennis when she responds, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I will do everything I can.”

~

Dana tries pendulum dowsing over a map first. The pendulum swings non-commitly over the entire continental United States. Dana hums and mumbles to herself with increasing frustration. She goes on to bust out the giant world map that hangs over the edges of the table. Robby almost laughs when she hangs the pendulum over Antarctica but the furrow of her brow makes him think better of it.

“We’re going to have to try something else,” she says a few seconds later.

Then Robby is setting candles down around the table while Dana gets out some herb jars. Dennis leaves for the bathroom after Dana tells him how to find it before he can ask. As soon as he is gone Dana is giving him that look.

“Have you heard from Jake lately?” Dana asks, her eyebrows raised.

Yeah… he should have expected that. “Nope. Still nothing.”

“Have you tried reaching out to him?” Her tone is just a bit too accusatory and it bristles his nerves.

“Of course I did,” Robby growls. “Last time he told me the only thing he wanted was for me to switch places with Leah.”

“I’m sorry, Robby.” Dana gives him a side hug, squeezing as much of him as she can. “I know he’ll come around eventually.”

“I don't know about that.”

Dennis walks back into the room and Robby changes the subject. “Is there anything else we need to set up?”

Dana takes the hint. “No, let's get started.”

They take a seat and Dana lays down the ground rules. “Stay seated at the table until I have closed the circle. We’re going to have to hold hands, don't let go until I have closed the circle. Let me do the talking, if too many people try to communicate things get…murky.”

Robby grabs Dana’s hand and holds his other across the table to Dennis. He looks unsure but Robby gives him a stern look. The kid grabs onto both of them but he's more reluctant to touch Robby. That stings, just a little, but he asked for it. Dana has them repeat the chant along with her to open the lines of communication to the spirit world.

Being a part of a seance is pretty boring. It consists of Dana asking herself questions and listening to answers only she can hear. She starts off asking for small details about the Whitakers deaths. Robby keeps looking at Dennis with each question. The younger man’s eyes stay focused on the flowery tablecloth. Dana moves on to more direct questions, asking about the vampires. She tilts her head, listening to something. Robby's hand squeezes hers without meaning too from anticipation. She squeezes back but her eyes are closed tight as she tries to focus. Robby can't tell for sure, but he doesn't think she's getting much from the spirits. Dana’s frustration boils over. “Show me what killed the Whitaker family.”

After she asks that question, the flames around the table begin to grow taller and flicker. Robby is getting nervous. He looks over at Dennis again to make sure he's okay. From this angle the kid’s expression is screwed up into a grimace. Dana shakes her head with a frown and forcefully says, “Show me!”

Dana’s grip on his hand gets painfully tight and Robby feels a cool breeze below behind him. This is… new. Dana continues to demand information as the flames grow taller. She keeps repeating her question with more vigor, the volume of her voice getting louder each time. As she shouts for information one of the candles explodes, a large chunk flies into Dana’s face hitting her in the eye. Robby almost leaps out of his seat to help her but her nails dig into his palm. “Don’t break the circle.”

He forces himself to sink back down, ignoring the way his mind is whirling out of control. Dana says the words to close the portal of communication down and releases their hands when it is done. She immediately puts her hand to face and yells, “Jesus fucking Christ! Someone get me a bag of frozen peas.”

Dennis is scrambling out of his seat in an instant and reappears a few seconds later with the peas and rag. He wraps the plastic with the dishtowel before handing it over.. Their hands brush in the trade and its so slight Robby almost misses it but he sees her stiffen at the touch. Her voice is a lot more unsteady as she thanks him.

Robby tries to talk to her about it, but she ignores his questions. She stands from the table with the makeshift ice pack pressed to her face. “Alright boys, I’ve had enough today. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

She's kicking them out.

“Are you okay?” Dennis asks, concerned.

“I’m fine, nothing serious. Just need to rest.” She herds them to the door, not meeting Robby’s gaze. Something is wrong. Incredibly wrong, but she won't let him get a word in. They stumble back out of her front door, she finally looks at Robby and says, “Stay safe out there.”

“Nice to m--” The door shuts halfway through Dennis’ goodbye.

They turn to one another and Dennis looks about as confused as he feels. What the hell just happened?

~

They start driving to Virginia still befuddled. Without any new insight, that is the location of the most recent deaths.. Robby was hoping Dana could lead them to a fresh scene, but he knows the trail will pick back up again. He just has to keep his eyes peeled. They get fast food when they cross over into West Virginia. Robby scarfs down his Cook-Out plate of a burger, chicken nuggets, and quesadilla to ignore the way Dennis is eyeing him as he munches on fries. He can tell the kid has something to say. After running out of edible conversation shields, he gives in to his
curiosity. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

Dennis talks through a mouthful of fries, “Uh, what were you and Dana talking about?”

It was stupid to think that Dennis wouldn't have been listening. The kid is certainly learning some things from him. Robby tries to play dumb. “Hmm? We talked about a lot of things.”

Dennis chews on his bottom lip, a sign he is going to bring up something Robby would rather avoid. “Who’s Jake? I heard you talking about him.”

Fuuuuck. Robby thinks about the easiest way to explain that fucking train wreck. In the end, there is no real easy way. “He used to be my step-son.”

When the kid doesn’t immediately jump in with another question he knows he’s caught him by surprise. Robby decides to cut to the chase to avoid Whitaker formulating questions that he isn’t prepared to answer. “His girlfriend died last year. I was trying to help them hunt a shapeshifter. Unfortunately, it caught up to her before I could. He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“I’m sorry.” Robby hazards a glance to him. He cringes at the pity in Dennis’ eyes. He doesn’t deserve it.

“I’ve learned that in this line of work it's too hard to keep close with anyone relationships, so it’s fine.” Robby’s mouth is sour with the taste of shame and regret. “I just hope he’s doing okay.”

~

They land at an extended stay hotel in Danville, Virginia. Robby has been working hard to stay occupied with researching new hunts or tracking down the vampire coven from Nebraska. But there hasn’t been even a whisper of paranormal fuckery for two weeks. They’ve been cooped up in the hotel room the entire time and the tension is rising higher each day. Robby can feel it nearing the breaking point. Dennis is restless. A dangerous kind of restlessness. So, Robby decides they should get some outside air tonight. Leave the hotel and eat food that isn’t cooked in the kitchenette or delivered in styrofoam boxes.

“Kid, we’re going out,” Robby hollers from the bathroom. He’s just taken a shower and looks at himself in the mirror. The person looking back is strange and unfamiliar. He focuses on cleaning up his overgrown facial hair- God, he's really been falling into that cabin fever.

Dennis stomps over to the bathroom door, a sour look on his face. “Where?”

Robby internally cringes at the tone of his voice. Yeah, they need to go out. Maybe Whitaker can find someone in the bar to take out his frustrations on. “I don't know. We need to get out of this room, though. Go get ready.”

The kid grumbles through getting ready and sulks the entire car ride as Robby tries to find a spot. Robby is about to throttle him over his fucking attitude. Then, like an oasis appearing in the middle of the desert, the Red Boot appears and Robby makes a slightly illegal maneuver to pull into the parking lot. Dennis is cursing at him the entire time it takes them to park.

Once they get inside Robby knows this is the perfect place. The dive bar is busy and loud. There are plenty of people spread out around the building, even some pool tables. He might do some hustling later. They sit at a high top table and a perky waitress comes to greet them within a few minutes. She sets down two paper menus on the table as she speaks, “How are y’all doing tonight?”

“I’m doing good.” Robby gives her a half smile. The woman is cute with long dark hair in a high pony tail and the lace of her bra peeking out of her tank top. She's age appropriate for Robby and definitely checking him out too. He tells himself this could be just what needs to get out of this funk.

“What are you drinking tonight?” She flicks her hair around just a little and gets her pen ready over the server pad.

“I’ll take a Coors Light,” Dennis answers. Robby winces at the snap in his voice. The waitress startles and looks over to him.

“Do you have your ID, hun?” Whitaker digs his ID out of his pocket with a little grumble.

Robby tells her his order after she passes the card back. “I’ll have a Pabst.”

She gives Robby another bright smile, “Alrighty, I’ll have those right out.”

She comes back a few minutes later with the drinks and gets their food orders. She doesn't give Dennis much attention beyond strictly necessary and he can see the kid getting annoyed. She brings another round of drinks with their food and beams when Robby tells her that she's doing a great job.

As they eat, she seems to do a few more check-ins than strictly necessary, and even puts her hand on Robby's arm as she laughs at a bad joke he makes. He’s thinking about asking when she gets off tonight but then thinks better of it when he sees Dennis glowering across the table.

Dennis’ demeanor has been getting darker between each interaction with the waitress. He doesn't want to think about the implications of that. The seeds that he has sown with his rotten actions. So, Robby tries some playful ribbing. He feels a lot lighter with a couple of beers and a greasy meal in his stomach. He wishes Dennis could just enjoy the night with him. “C’mon, lighten up. Someone your age should be out on the field, why don’t you go talk to those girls over there?”

The mistake is Robby putting his hand on his shoulder. That cracks Dennis wide open.

“Would you just stop!” Dennis’ voice is an inch from a scream. He jerks out of the older man's touch. Robby sees the waitress make a fast u-turn from where she had been about to approach them again.

“What the hell is your problem?” Robby barely manages to keep his voice low. He doesn't understand why they can't just

Dennis practically jumps out his seat while saying, “Just take me back to the hotel.” Then he storms out of the bar. Well, there goes Robby’s good mood. He sits stunned for another fifteen seconds then waves the waitress over. He pays her in cash, way more than their meal costs, and tells her to keep the change.

Outside, the kid is sitting on the hood of the car. Just the way Robby fucking told him not to million times, and he feels anger bubbling in his chest. He climbs into the driver's seat and Dennis follows suit. They don't speak on the ride home.

~
After possibly the most awkward drive ever, Robby is taking off his boots by the door when Dennis comes up to him. Robby is instantly on guard expecting another smart ass remark or even a punch to be thrown. Instead Dennis grabs Robby by the shirt and crashes their lips together. This kiss isn't like the last time. Dennis is biting his lips and prying them open with his tongue. Robby kisses back before his better side gets back into control. He breaks away panting slightly. “Kid, we can’t-“

He expects another explosion. Dennis will tell him how awful he is and he will deserve it. Instead, Dennis buries his face into the side of his neck, his lips and tongue working on the sensitive skin. Robby holds in a groan at the sensation. He realizes Dennis is talking and tries to focus.

“Please, just give me anything. I’ll take anything. I just want you.” He pulls back and his face is so pitiful. He’s cracked wide open with desire, and the worst parts of Robby come to life. How could he not give him what he wants? He can deny himself forever, but Dennis has started growing into the cracks of him and taking hold.

Robby kisses him in response, holding his face in both hands as his tongue maps out the entirety of the other's mouth. Dennis moans into the kiss and grinds their bodies together. His hands are wandering Robby’s body. They slide up his chest and back down to his hips then the front of his jeans. Robby's age means he's only worked up enough to be half hard but Dennis is doing his best to get him all the way there. Dennis pulls away to breathe and rubs his cheeks against Robby's. He makes a whiny noise him at the scratch of the older man's beard on his skin.

Robby uses the opportunity to try and figure out how far he should let this go. He feels like he's spinning out of control. Dennis said he wanted whatever Robby would give him. He feels like testing that theory.

Then he’s pushing down on Whitaker’s shoulders until he’s on his knees. Robby undoes his belt and pops his fly. Dennis is looking up at Robby with his dishwater blond hair hanging over his blue eyes and he looks so fucking good on his knees. That worshipping look on his face makes Robby’s cock throb against the confines of his jeans. His hair is long enough for Robby to get a fistful of it, so he does. He pulls Dennis’ face in and grinds it against the bulge in his jeans. He hopes that if he lets enough of the depraved animal in his soul show that Dennis will get scared, will realize that he doesn't want this and run. Robby desperately wants him to run away before he ruins him. Instead, Dennis moans and tugs his jeans and underwear down his hips.

He buries his face between Robby’s legs to suck and kiss at the newly exposed flesh until the older man’s dick is out. Robby pulls him back by the hair to stop him from diving right in. He forces the young man to look at him. “Stick out your tongue.”

Dennis’ cheeks turn a deep red as he obeys. Robby holds his cock with his free hand and rubs the head over Dennis’ tongue. Fuck, he wants to slide right in. He pushes his hips forward so his dick slides up over Dennis’ nose and cheek. The younger man’s tongue runs along the length all the way to his balls. Dennis moves his tongue when he settles there and makes Robby curse. “Fuck, that’s good. Suck on them, baby.”

He loosens his grip just enough for Dennis to follow his instructions. The boy is lapping at every inch of skin he can reach, Robby knows he’s probably got spit running down his chin with how enthusiastic he is. He's so fucking eager to please it drives Robby crazy. He scratches his fingers into Dennis’ scalp and decides he wants to get inside his mouth for real now. When he pulls back Dennis whines and tries to chase him with his mouth. “Shhh, open up for me, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth.”

Dennis relaxes and opens his mouth for him so perfectly. Robby lines himself up and gives a few slow thrusts into the heat of his mouth to test the waters. He doesn’t want to catch the kid off guard and get bitten. He rubs Dennis’ cheek and makes sure he makes eye contact before saying, “You put your hands on my thighs and pinch me if you need a break.”

Dennis nods softly and places his hands where he was told. “Good boy.”

Dennis moans around him and Robby shoves his cock in deeper as the pleasure runs through him. He pulls back out and watches Dennis take a shuddering breath through his nose, but he doesn’t tell him to stop. Robby holds the back of his head and begins to fuck his mouth, thrusting deeper each time until he hits the back of Dennis’ throat and stays there. He keeps pushing the limits each time and relishes in the fluttering of Dennis’ throat as he gags around his cock. Robby watches as Dennis’ eyes start to water and tears fall down his cheeks, but the hands on his hips stay still. He pulls all the way out and his gut burns with arousal as Dennis coughs and takes spluttering breaths. Dennis’ voice is a little hoarse as he says, “I didn’t ask you to stop.”

Oh, this kid is going to be the death of him. Robby starts again. He fucks Dennis’ mouth more aggressively and holds him down longer.

“You look so good like this.” A coil of heat is building inside of him, warning him that his orgasm is getting closer. He locks in on the way Dennis’ mouth is stretched wide around him and how hard he's trying to be good. His thrusts get more urgent as he approaches the edge. He can feel Dennis taking quick breaths each time he pulls back. He learns so fast. Robby pulls him down until Dennis has swallowed his whole length and holds him there, “So fucking sexy choking on my cock.”

Dennis’s fingers move on his hips and Robby starts to pull back, but the hands only dig into his skin and pull him in closer. Shit. Robby pulls Dennis off and comes on his face. His orgasm hits him like a truck and he can feel the pleasure pulsing through his entire body.

Dennis waits patiently as he catches his breath. Robby feels a pang of arousal as he watches the younger man’s tongue slip out to lick the cum on his lips and chin. He looks filthy and Robby wants to eat him alive. He pulls him up to lick his cheeks clean then shoves his tongue into Dennis’ swollen mouth. Dennis lets out a squeak and thrusts against him.

Oh, right. The kid is still hard. He can fix that. Robby manhandles him until he’s got him on the bed. “Get your pants off and lay on your stomach.”

Dennis hurries to obey, taking his shirt off and moving on to his belt. Good. Robby turns away to grab the small bottle of lubrication from the pocket of his duffel bag. He pulls his own pants back up when he nearly trips. When he turns back Dennis is laid out exactly the way he wanted. He’s propped his head on his arms and is peering at Robby over his shoulder. He can see when the kid notices the lube. His eyes lock in on it and he rocks his hips so his ass is in the air. “Are you gonna…?”

Robby kneels on the mattress. He slides his hand up the soft skin of one of Dennis’ thighs and feels him shiver. “I won’t be hard again for a while, but I’m going to take care of you.”

“Oh.” Dennis’ hips are not so subtly grinding down into the mattress. Robby doesn’t mention it. He clicks open the lube and smears it on his first two fingers. Robby leans down to bite the soft but firm flesh of the younger man’s asscheek. Dennis squirms caught between pain and pleasure. Robby rubs one slick finger over his hole and presses gently but doesn’t push inside.

“Disappointed?” He asks between biting kisses along the creamy white skin of the kid’s thighs.

Dennis moans loudly as he sucks a deep mark on the back of his left thigh. Robby gives his ass a light smack to refocus him. Dennis chokes out the words, “N-no, not disappointed.”

With a smirk, Robby slips his finger inside of him. Dennis hisses at the intrusion but pushes back on his finger. Robby’s cock twitches in interest futilely. He could drag this out for an hour just to fuck him tonight, but poor Dennis might not be able to take that. Robby decides to stop teasing him. He pours more lube over his hole then a second joins the first. Dennis groans from deep in his throat as the second finger pushes inside him, and Robby wants to hear that noise again. He fucks him with his fingers in, search of his prostate. He knows he’s found it when Dennis clenches down tight around his fingers and yelps. He uses his free hand to rub one of the younger man’s thighs. “Relax for me, baby.”

Dennis slowly opens back up for him and Robby keeps him worked up by brushing that sweet spot. He’s pumping his fingers in and out hard, addicted to the wet squelch each push in makes. Dennis is incoherently saying please, oh god, and “Please, give me more.”

Robby can do that. He works a third finger inside slowly. He knows the kid is feeling the burn by how he’s desperately gasping his name. He gives an experimental curl once they're fully inside and Dennis moans like a cat in heat. “Holy shit, Robby, your fingers are so fucking big.”

He fucks back on to the fingers and Robby lets him do the work. His arm is cramping just a little. Dennis has become entirely focused on riding his fingers. So much that Robby sees his hard cock is dangling, neglected between his legs.

It's driving Robby crazy. He slips in a fourth finger, another push at the boundaries to see where they are, and wraps his free hand around Dennis’ cock.

As Robby works all his fingers inside, he begins jerking Dennis off. Between the extra stretch and the rough handling of his dick that had been ready to burst, Dennis comes in seconds, He lets out a shout, maybe Robby’s name, with 1his face buried in the comforter. Robby eases the fingers out of his ass and wipes them on his jeans. He lays down on the bed next to the kid, pleased to see him panting and twitching through his orgasm.

Still enjoying a little of the post-coital flush, he grabs Dennis and tugs their bodies together. They lay like that for a few minutes as Dennis finally catches his breath again and Robby feels sleep tugging at his mind.

Robby the eyes he hasn't noticed closing and sees Dennis staring at him. What he sees on the kid's face pierces through Robby's chest. Like an old friend, shame and self hatred rush over him. He hates that this part of him keeps winning. That he wants Dennis so badly, that he wants more than this, makes Robby feel disgust swirl in his stomach. He needs to get away from Dennis and never come back. He tries to move but Dennis holds him down by the arm with that hidden strength, “Don't push me away again.”

Dennis still looks fucked out with flushed cheeks and covered in sweat. His eyes are pleading and he looks so vulnerable. He pulls Robby in closer and gives him a tentative kiss before pulling back to gauge his response.

Robby can't say anything to that. He will make no promises, so he just nods and settles back in the bed. This is enough for now.

~

The next morning he goes to a little bakery near the hotel for breakfast. After he places an order he calls Dana. He's been trying for weeks since they left her house without luck. When she picks up the call he immediately starts talking. “Hey, I gave you some space. Now can you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Robby…” The woman sighs. He can picture her pinching the bridge of her nose, glasses sitting on the top of her head. He knows she wouldn't have answered this call if she wasn't on the verge of telling him.

He decides to push the issue, “You looked spooked, Dana. More spooked than I’ve ever seen you.”

There's a drawn out moment of silence. Robby holds out from speaking again to let her work up to whatever she's got to say.

“Den- that boy has something dark about him. I- I don't know what but…I think you need to be careful.” Dana's voice is quiet and serious over the line.

Robby’s world flips upside down momentarily. He thinks about the young man still fast asleep in his bed at the hotel. The person he has spent months teaching and just grudgingly admitted to himself that he cares about, and-- he gets angry, “What?”

“Don't shoot the messenger, Robby.” Dana bites back. “You asked.”

Robby huffs to keep other angry words out of his mouth. He trusts Dana wholeheartedly, but it's just….Dennis. There's got to be some mistake.

Dana seems to sense that he isn't going to snark at her so she says, “Look, he seems like a sweet kid. I’m not sure what I saw. Maybe the murder of his whole family or something you two encountered left a mark. It can happen.”

The counter clerk calls his name and Robby sees her set down their food and coffee. “Right, well I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” He ends the call before she can say anything else.

Dennis is still asleep when he gets back to the room. He's sprawled out over the double bed since Robby left. The sight of him makes Robby’s heart feel like it is being crushed. He wakes him up with a kiss on the cheek and Dennis wraps a sleepy hand around him tugging him down into the bed.

There's nothing dark or bad about this beautiful boy, he knows that.