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CHARACTERS: The Trinity plus One
LOCATION: Kitchen
WARNINGS: Fighting, yelling, broken pottery, and maybe tears
SUMMARY: Alex and Tom confront Hal about his blood issue. Derek saves the day (aka Hal's life)
NOTES: Directly following this

His heart was still racing as all the thoughts about how dumb he had been to trust Hal went through his head. He knew he should have listened to his Dad about vampires. He knew and yet-and yet it was too hard to push away those months of friendship that had formed.

Right, Hal could be a dickhead but he was also funny in his own way and nicer to Tom than most people. Having spent so long with just his Dad and a van in the woods, Tom wasn't sure if what they had could really be called friendship, but Tom liked to think so. At least before this.

Hal had promised and others had talked about that fake blood. Hal had lied. Maybe all the vampires had lied and Tom was just stupid enough to believe them. No, it had to be more than that.

Gripping his one stake harder, Tom's nose led to the kitchens. Alex wanted to talk to Hal and maybe it was stupid but Tom was still willing to believe this business could be cleared up and they all just be friends again.

Stupid.

"Hal? We want to talk to you."

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Everything was a mess. It shouldn't have gone this way - it should have been that his friends showing up made things easier, not worse, but of course things couldn't possibly go so smoothly. It was his fault. He knew that, on some level. But it was what he was, things that couldn't completely be helped, not here, and if they failed to see that, then couldn't some of the blame be put on them?

Excuses and lies to keep some of the weight off his shoulders, and some part of him recognized them for what they were. It was that part that had led him to the kitchens, the most bizarrely familiar place on the ship; the creature comforts, the silverware, the cleaning that he did by hand, dishwasher be damned.

He'd come here to find something to distract him. Something chaotic to put back in place, to channel his energy into; it'd gone in reverse. He'd ended up making a mess of a bag of rice, dashed it all over the floor, and wasn't that just perfect, a vampire counting fucking rice as if all of this could be boiled down to silly legends.

It was a wasted effort, anyway. He doesn't have the focus or interest in cleaning up the mess he makes, and instead he ends up laughing when he realizes what he's done. It's not a good-humored laugh, half delirious and half cruel, but he's gone quiet by the time he hears (smells) Tom coming down the hallway. He looks up when he enters, stake predictably in hand. That's what this has come down to; Tom trying to kill him in a kitchen. Maybe the diner had been more prophetic than he'd thought.

He sounds tired, and he sounds desperate, but worst of all - he sounds vaguely entertained.

"Tom. You're just in time to help clean up."

The horror of dealing with the aftermath of the very unpleasant revelation sank into Alex's consciousness like a bad hangover. The painful sobriety arrived too quickly at the sight of Tom's stake--that's when things started to rapidly fall apart. It was supposed to have been a slap on the wrist, a well deserved bout of scolding before they got down to the business of setting everything right.

Along the way, Alex's second nature has taken over too swiftly for her to remember she wasn't anyone's big sister here. She has never been obligated to set things right, but weeks of resentment over the anger boiling under the service had taken care of common sense and rationality. And as it boiled over, it brought all the other unpleasantness with it.

She keeps a hand firmly, if surreptitiously, on Tom's other wrist. This newly returned body lacks any supernatural strength, but it is still an effort.

Alex cannot say the same for her voice, which seems to have deserted her now that the talking was to be done in person.

"You lied Hal. You told me that was fake blood, but it ain't is it?" It was a dumb question especially since Tom already knew the answer, but he wanted Hal to admit that he was back on the blood and to...and to what?

This wasn't how space was suppose to be. There were suppose to be aliens and living in the open and having friends, not Hal on the blood and Tom all but useless with his one stake. He knew he could take Hal, but he didn't want to take down his friend. Maybe Alex was right and there was still a chance.

He's not angry at Tom. Tom's doing what he was raised to do, what Hal has outright asked him to do. But he is angry - at himself, at this entire absurd scenario; the fact that he was too weak to keep his promises.

Unfortunately, now isn't the time to pay attention to the nuances of who deserves that ire and frustration, and the blood has a way of bringing a level of narcissism and denial with it - so when that anger builds, needs an outlet, he goes for the easiest one in the room.

"Of course it isn't, you idiot. You honestly thought synthetic blood would do anything? There's no life in synthetic. It's completely useless to me."

His tone is dismissive and patronizing, and it remains that way when his attention shifts to Alex.

"You should leave. Now."

Edited (oh no same icon gross) 2013-04-06 00:13 (UTC)

"You can't do this yet," the words are out before Alex can run them through, over and over in her head, "The only reason there's no blood on Tom's hands yet is because I asked him to reconsider."

And it's her fault they're at this impasse, right now. If she hadn't blurted her grievance out to a hungry audience, then this could have--might have--gone differently. Her hand tightens on Tom's wrist almost in pleadingly. He is less likely to hurt her impulsively, at least.

"Let's just talk this out, yeah? There has to be a way around this whole primal instinct things. We're all adults here. We want to help you, goddamn it."

There is no accounting for the shiver that goes down her spine in an unghostly-like manner at the implication of Hal's words, however, "You can give us that much."

That warm hand held him back when Hal's words pushed him to move forward. They hurt more than they should. Being called an idiot was nothing new; he knew he wasn't smart like Hal or most anyone really. He wasn't a fool about that, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt to hear his friend say it. Course it could just be the blood making Hal mean like Alex said.

"I may be an idiot, but that's no reason to lie. We're mate and we coulda helped you." He tightened his grip on the stake. "Still can if you want it."

"Help me how."

It's not a question; it's an accusation, spoken as he moves towards them. His posture is relaxed, casual, and on anyone else that might be a good sign. But for someone as meticulous as he is, as controlled and restrained, it's just another display of that control slipping.

"By tying me up? Leaving me in the far ends of the ship until one of those animals finds me and tears me to pieces. I don't know if you've noticed, but we're in fucking space."

"Listen to you, all defeatist and morbid," It is almost a taunt, even as Alex's stubborn patience filter away into desperation. The change in posture goes unnoticed in the flurry of thoughts coming to the forefront.

"What made you think you had no choice? Did you ever stop to think we wouldn't let that happen to you?" her grip on Tom's wrist intensies, "Whatever happened to 'fighting the monster'? You're giving up now because it's hard?"

It was unpleasant, feeling goosebumps line along her skin with apprehension. It isn't a sensation Alex has missed.

Tom stepped back and let Alex take the lead on this. He was too hurt to and far from as smart as Hal and Alex when it came to things like this. His Dad would have already stakes Hal long ago never mind becoming friends with the vampire.

His hold on the stake loosened but he was still ready to attack should Hal decide he was finished talking.

He stops a few feet away, and although he's speaking to Alex, his attention remains fixed on Tom. His smile is humorless; maybe a bit sad. Defeatist and morbid is an apt observation, and the fact that Cutler's been his only support system for months - it's taken its toll.

"What's your brilliant plan, then? Let's have it. How do you propose to help me?"

He's quieter than he was, all the tension and challenge restrained into something more subtle. It doesn't matter what they say, not really. He knows they mean well, that they genuinely want to help him; he also (thinks) he knows that they can't.

"That wanker is a bad influence," Alex proclaims decisively,. She retains enough derisiveness to direct her displeasure at that, at least, "I don't know what he's been feeding you, but that, at least, has got to stop."

And at this rate, she knows the heavy, poisonous words are doing as much of a damage as the blood is, stripping away layers of inhibition and sanity.

"We'll do what we did before, yeah? We'll even guard you. We can work it out around the jumps. You only have to give us a chance."

For a brief moment of clarity, Alex believes this is what she was brought back to do. This inexplicable breath of life and very real body has a purpose, after all, beyond reliving the life stolen from her.

Edited 2013-04-10 04:18 (UTC)

"You have to at least try, Hal." Because if he didn't then that meant he was willing to let go and that meant Tom would have to kill him.

Tom pulled his arm from Alex and put the stake in his back pocket. "We're here now so we can help you just like we did at home."

"I already tried. I've been trying, and it hasn't worked. Do you have any idea how many people I've nearly killed? How many times I've missed entire conversations because I've been too busy thinking about how someone's blood might taste?"

He'd managed not to, and that was important; but it'd been too many close calls for him to count it as a win. One of them wasn't even down to his own self-control, and if not for outside interference, this would've been a moot conversation.

"You can't kill me. And I won't kill anyone - you have to trust me. I can manage this. I can drink blood without anyone getting hurt."

He's one step away from saying too much, because he isn't talking about blood bags - synthetic or otherwise. That wasn't working, either. Not well enough.

This could almost be a typical night of childish stubbornness in Alex's not too recent past, with the child in question being only a few centuries too old. They were going around in circles, edging around a considerable gap in the middle none them could--or would--touch. Alex is not quite sure what it is, but she's pretty sure the missing piece may actually be a missing vampire.

Perhaps it's a small blessing Cutler is not nearby. But a blessing for whom?

"But you won't trust us." She finally points out, exasperation and defeat vying for a choice place in her head, tugging on and pushing logic away.

Tom moved forward more willing Hal to just agree with them and have things be as they should. "We promise we ain't gonna let you hurt yourself or other people. We can watch you and help you." His eyes pleaded with Hal. "We're mates, Hal."

"You're children."

The desperation is slipping into something colder, harsher, directed more ruthlessly at them both. There's a moment where he simply looks at them, registers how genuine and concerned they are, and the facade finally starts to crack.

"You don't get it. I don't want your ridiculous plans, your help. I've already made my decision; you either trust that I've made the right one or you get out of my way."

"Watch out, Tom," Alex mutters under her breath. She's made a promise she knew she couldn't keep back in the day, but it may very well be the time to stick to it, driven into the fray like that. She's had no intention of sticking resolutely to ending Hal's life when the time came, not after the first time she's failed.

They simply have no choice.

She lets go of Tom's wrist.

Tom is in Hal's space in an instant. He's sweet and more often than not quite naive about even the most basic things, but killing is instinctual. Still, he keeps his stake low. "I won't let you go out there like this, Hal. Don't wanna hurt you, but I will."

He knows killing a vampire is just a part of life, but Tom briefly wonders if killing Hal would be the same. They were friends. Nearly a family at one point and now...No, it was easier not to think on such things.

That earns another laugh, short and harsh, but it dies down quickly. Tom's in front of him, now, and even if the stake isn't raised, the tension's there; it's only a matter of time.

He'd looked nearly panicked before. Now he looks calm - collected and shut off, emotions shoved neatly below the surface. He doesn't back off at Tom's advance, but leans forward, closing the gap further; it's a familiar enough dance for them both, the territory and the posturing. He doesn't need to speak up to get his point across, not this close, but the words are bit out either way.

"Get out of the way, Tom. This isn't your decision to make."

She'd seen the taunt and bite enough times already--twice or more--under different circumstances to know what's coming. Those differing circumstances had allowed her to be dismissive in lights of larger things to tackle, but true to what everyone else had warned her about earlier, it was a different game in such an enclosed, cabin-feverish space.

She had moved out of the way before she noticed it herself, back pressed against one of the large fridge,and wondered if it was too late to get the ropes.

"Think it is mate. Made you a promise and I keep my promises." The moment he stopped speaking the stake was raised and heading for Hal's heart. Perhaps if his heart was really into this Tom would easily get a death blow in, but he hesitates for a fraction of a second because Hal had been a friend. His best friend even and this just wasn't suppose to happen.

It's strange; a part of him almost wants this. Wants the stake to find its mark, put him out of his misery. But that's not the part in charge, the one that makes his eyes go black; just for a second, but even if the black flickers away the fangs don't. The moment Tom moves so does he, catching hold of Tom's wrist in a crushing grip and forcing the upward motion to continue, dragging the weapon too high, well clear of its target.

He attempts a quick, vicious punch to Tom's gut with his other hand; paired with the deflection, the goal is to disarm Tom, throw him off balance and shove him back.

Might as well not be here, and perhaps it's for the better. Alex is not sure how to intervenes, or if she should intervene. The movement plays out like it had in the past when her budding powers helped marginally. Through the swift, quick movement, she can barely see Tom's aggression is not as forceful.

What Alex does notes, however, is the deliberate calculation of Hal's advances. If the vampire had wanted to end this earlier then the bite and tear would have come by now.

Or maybe it is only a matter of time.

Tom falls back against a table but doesn't lose his balance or frustration at this whole situation. He's quick to charge at Hal, coming in low and fast. The table falls to it's side as he uses it to shove off of, the crash echoing through the kitchen. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hopes that Alex has left because he doesn't want her to see this. To see what's become of her friends.

Hal takes the brief respite from attack to center his balance, and when Tom comes back at him, he's ready. He doesn't dodge, and his efforts remain on deflecting the stake. It doesn't stop Tom from slamming him back into the kitchen counter, and the streamlined shelves rattle with the impact.

There's a knife on the counter. His hand finds it quickly, without obviously looking, and when his fingers close on it he brings it round to slam the flat of the handle against the side of Tom's head. He doesn't use the blade, and later he'll be comfortable with excuses; it's an awkward angle, and there's no reason to end a good show so soon.

He didn't lose his grip on the stake. It was the first rule of fighting a vampire: never let go of the stake. He also didn't let go of Hal which made putting said stake in the vampire's heart rather difficult.

The fight nearly ends when Hal hits the side of Tom's head with the knife handle. It's not a heavy knife, but it's welded in the hands of a vampire who probably wants him dead. His Dad would say it's lucky Tom has such a thick head as the force could have well caused real injury. Tom pushes them back into the shelf trying to remain upright as his head swims from the blow. He backs away only far enough to take a swing at Hal's face.

The hit lands, and when Hal gets a grip on the front of Tom's shirt (knife still in one hand, held flat against his chest) and shoves him back, hard, there's a fresh streak of red across his lips. His teeth are bared, and it's somewhere between a grimace and a grin; he's enjoying this.

The punch combined with the push put just enough space between them for him to gain some leverage, and he takes the opening to swing the knife between them. It's a vicious diagonal slash, meant to push Tom back futher - but it doesn't shy away from cutting flesh if he's too slow.

He's fast but the fact that he doesn't expect Hal to use something so mundane does strike him as strange. Not enough to slow him down of course. For a brief moment he thinks of letting Hal eventually cut him with that knife if only for the advantage his blood would give him over the vampire. His Dad had taught him that nothing was out of the question when fighting a vampire. Of course his Dad never expected Tom to befriend a vampire and, therefore, maybe not put quite as much into the fight as he should.

It's easy to deflect the knife and keep his arms swinging so that they might take hold of Hal's clothes. They need room. Tom needs room so that he might finish this before someone gets hurt. If he can take hold of Hal's top he'll toss him into a nearby table.

Tom's dodge gives Hal enough leeway to do something - a kick, a punch, maybe even just get out from between him and the counter. He doesn't; instead he offers a short exhale, halfway to a laugh. Whether it's because of the sport or because he can read the hesitation in Tom's moves is unclear.

Either way, it's a stupid move. It gives Tom an in and he takes it, and Hal is thrown into the table with relative ease. It doesn't break - the ship's built of sterner stuff than the flimsy wood of the local pub - and he mostly crashes into the side of it, spinning around quickly to face Tom. Still, it's jarring enough to leave him reasonably unguarded, both hands focused on steadying himself rather than defense for a few short seconds.

Tom is quicker to take advantage of Hal's unguarded stance than he had been at staking the vampire. Now he has his dominant hand free and goes for another punch for the face. It was hard enough that it could put Hal to the ground. Fast and hard. If he was McNair he would keep hitting until a tooth fell out; a grizzly souvenir. Tom is not his father and his swing is more out of anger.

The hit lands, and it does send Hal to the ground - but it doesn't wipe the smirk off his face. He's grinning when he rolls onto his back, hands up in a false surrender. He doesn't drop the knife, of course, so the false part is fairly obvious. He's hardly trying at this point, and he even takes the time to throw out a callous barb.

"Such an efficient killer, Tom. It's a shame McNair wasn't quite so quick."

It's almost a stab in the dark - he knows the basics, if not the details, thanks to snippets of conversation with Tom and Annie.

That hurt in a way Tom hadn't been prepared for Hal to hurt him. He's already failed his father by not being there when he was needed and now Hal was lost and everything his Dad had said about vampires being evil was staring him right in the face. Tom flew at Hal in a rage, his stake raised and aimed right at Hal's heart.

And Derek catches his hand.

It wasn't out of particular attachment to Hal. It's not even to keep Tom from killing. It's because Derek's fairly certain the last thing they need on-board is animosity between werewolves and vampires, and a werewolf killing a vampire might not play well among the rest of the vampires on board.

"Let him go."

It's the surliest, most irritated statement in the world. Derek resents having to be involved at all, but it's always like this in Derek's life. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong kitchen to pick to fix a sandwich in.

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who invited the plus one gosh

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sorry.......... tom................... :'c

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i'm the slowest, gosh

nope it's me i'm the slowest also hal cussing about space, my bucket list

:')

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SORRY HELLO

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i suck at RPing fights hold my hand ok

is ok baby we'll hold yo hand

i won't.

you are so mean and i am so slow.

i think i aged ten years waiting

cries self to sleep

bathes in your tears

you are so rude

i learn from the best

also this is prob derek time

probably

did someone say interrupting alpha