Chapter 33

“Jon? Don’t you ever sleep?” Richie rubbed at the sleep, still heavy on his eyelids. The last few days were total hell for both of them. Jon had violent tremors and sweaty sessions, keeping them up all night and if the tremors subsided the poor man was hugging the toilet boil as if his life depended on it.

Today was the day for the second treatment but he wasn’t so sure. Maybe they should just pack their stuff, get Ksenia and go back.

Jon sat lifelessly on the couch, staring at Richie with empty eyes. He was in such a weakened state he was afraid for his life. His lips had a strange bluish tinge, he had awful dark hollows beneath his eyes. He looked…dead. Just when he thought he might be really dead the soft voice withered from his throat.

“Fuck Rich, I need to feed man but I’m so damn weak. If I try to hunt I’ll get my ass kicked, I’m sure of it. I just don’t have the strength.”

“So are we clear on this then? We are done with this shit? Are we going home, where we belong?”

He didn’t meet Richie’s eyes.

“I can’t my brother. I need to see this through. Today is the second round, maybe it will get better after this?”

“You’re fucking nuts! You DO have a deathwish!”

Waving a weak hand his way he stopped Richie.

“Please, I don’t have the strength for this shit.” His head fell back onto the back of the couch, his eyes shut,, his adamsapple bounced in his throat as he swallowed, trying to rid himself of the desert in his mouth.

A few moments of silence ticked by.

“Ok, you win but we need you to feed first. I can’t be dragging you heavy ass all the way to the professor’s house.”

“My brother,  if I collapse you’ll just have to, cause come hell or high water, I’m going and I feel as weak as a new born kitten right now. Besides what’s wrong with you? You’re a big strong man aren’t ya?” A smile wavered on his lips.

“I’m dragging no ones ass around, except maybe a cute ass…and yeah...sorry bro’ yours are just not THAT cute. Maybe I’ve seen it too many times…so….*ahem*….here, lets get this over with.” Jon opened his eyes only to bump into Richie’s outstretched wrist.

He could only stare.

“Whaaaa? Its not dirty or anything. You just make sure...if you’re done, to do that bandaid thingy, I don’t want the world to know you sucked me.” The last words ripped a simultaneous roar from the two men.

“You sure? I can ask the professor for some blood. I’m sure he will oblige.”

“You sucking Ksenia dry, yeah fucking right! Now shut up and drink. We need to go.”

A sudden flood of hunger flipped his stomach upside down and he reached for Richie’s wrist, the bulging vein the only thing he could focus on.

This is Richie…..this is Richie……this is…. “Rrrroooaaaarrrrr! “, his fangs sank deeply into the flesh, taking care not to slice at any tendons. Heaven spilled over his tongue and his throat convulsed into a rhythm, pushing down the warm, thick juices. His body was saturated with energy, pulsing through every organ, soaking into every inch of tissue.

Richie willed himself to relax, Jon’s bite wasn’t as painful but his beastly sounds and ever growing frenzied feeding had him worried. A flash of panic darted through him as the thought of Jon not able to stop himself wedged firmly in his mind.

The acid tinge tainted the flow of blood and Jon’s eyes flashed open. Glittering cobalt orbs burned into Richie’s and he shivered.

Those eyes! There was just no resemblance to the man that owned them! A sudden wave of dizziness attacked Richie from no where and he knew…Jon had to stop, he was drinking way to fast.

“Jon…bro’ I don’t feel so good, we need to stop.”

As answer he just received a sneer and a firm chomp into his wrist.

The pain was too much and Richie groaned.

Hot damn! He can pack a mean bite!

Jon was now beyond listening, his hair covered his face, his hands held Richie’s wrist fast, his fangs working the wound even wider, his tongue lapping at the spilling blood. Jon had lost track of where he was and who was offering their wrist so willingly. The dark creature demanded to be fed and Jon was at its mercy.

Richie grabbed a handful of hair and yanked, cringing as the action scraped the fangs cruelly against bone and tendons.

“JON! JON! You need to come out of this. It’s Richie remember! You need to stop brother or you’ll kill me.” Jon’s fangs were hauled from the gaping wound.

White lightening flashed in those beastlike eyes as he stared into Richie’s face. There was absolutely no comprehension. Blood dripped from his fangs, his tongue catching the droplets as they threatened to spill from his mouth. For a moment Richie felt triumph but he was wrong…so deadly wrong.

Jon’s frame was suddenly crouching over him, his hands pushing Richie back into the couch. One hand flew up and snapped Richie’s head to one side, fangs scraped along the veins in his neck, his tongue following the trail.

Richie knew he was staring death in the face and he experienced the fear Jon’s victims must have felt before he drained their last drop. The crunch as his fangs found their mark left Richie paralyzed. His head was swimming from the lost of blood and Jon’s feeding was starting to hurt like a son of a bitch. Not having the strength to shout or scream he reverted to the one gift they shared as brothers.

Jon…Jon. I know you can hear me. You are out of control and you are feeding from me….Richie, your brother. I need you to stop, or I’ll die. I know you can fight this…please Jon…I NEED YOU TO FIGHT THIS FOR ME!

Richie? Richie….this is….NO!

The powerful sucking was easing, becoming hesitant, another crunch. Richie moaned, the pain was becoming unbearable, his bites got more brutal.

Yes…please my man. I’m getting weaker, you are really fucking hurting me!

The vice grip hold was easing, the fangs slowly backing out of the puncture wounds.

That’s it my brother! That’s it Jon!

Jon suddenly reared back and Richie’s heart jerked in his chest. Wanting to shout he willed himself to calm down, remembering what Jon had said about how panic turned him even more vicious.

Richie…this is Richie…hungry….blood…Richie…

Jon and the beast were clawing at each other’s reason. Jon’s fangs touched skin and Richie went deathly still. His tongue pushed past and started its own rhythmic lapping. The burning was subsiding and Richie eased into the couch.

Richie…this is Richie…enough….its enough.

Richie followed the silent battle within Jon, too scared to react or he might wake the evil again.

Feeling Jon reaching for his wrist Richie scrunched his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see the wildness in Jon’s eyes right now. He could feel the wildness was still there, lurking just beneath the surface. Anything could set it off…any damn thing. Richie felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Jon watched in anticipation as the blood lingering on his the pink skin. It was thick and dark red reminding him of rich, red wine. He was still so hungry!

Just once more.

Those three words almost had Richie jackknifed off the couch, if it wasn’t for Jon’s immense strength he would have been off the couch in seconds flat. This wasn’t going to end! Or it was going to…badly…for him anyway.

The now familiar crunch shuddered inside him. The appreciative growls coming from Jon was anything but human….

I’m going to give this a last try before I’m going to slip…..

Richie forced himself to think clearly, his thoughts were jumbled and he felt so tired…so damn tired!

Jon…this is it my brother. I can’t hang on anymore. I need you to stop and if you cant find it within you to do that, I am going to die. I can feel myself going…please…please…fight this…for me? I love you my brother…

Richie’s head hit the couch, his body went incredibly slack.