Give me shelter

"Ugh." I decided I may as well do the dishes, since the weariness I felt wasn't going to translate into being able to sleep right now. "I wish he'd waited to have a meltdown till I was better." I didn't think I could take on both of us. I filled the sink with water and yawned, reaching for my phone to put on a podcast or something to distract me from my thoughts. I paused as I heard something. The front door. The lock was clicking. I reached for a knife --- sooooo smart, Gabe, you'll definitely win in hand to hand combat with a burglar---- and I silently shuffled to poke my head in the hallway. I frowned as the door swung open.

"Darce?" I strained my eyes. He was... I mean he was always tall. His eyes were always dark. He stared at me, and I stared at him. "Is that..." I turned my head slowly to the side as I took him in. He had blood on his shirt. All over his shirt. He was covered in....

I gasped. My eyes flew open. I coughed as I caught my breath.

"Fuck, Gabriel, you ok?" Darcy sat up and stared at me. Larry David was pretending to speak Yiddish in the background. My heart was pounding. I lurched away from Darcy, my eyes scanning him. He looked soft and worried, his eyes wide and... and not black and awful.

Oh.

Just a dream.

I closed my eyes and sank back into the couch.

"Fuck me." I breathed slowly. "Just had a fucking nightmare."

"Yeah you just woke up like... yelling." He gently ran his fingers through my hair. "Can I make you some tea?"

"Ah." I could still feel my pulse. "Yep." Darcy squeezed my hand and stood up. Just as he was leaving the room I felt clammy and realised I really, really didn't want to be alone. I jolted up and followed him, wrapping the blanked around me. I sat at the kitchen table and relaxed in the bright light. I glanced at the sink. The dishes were still there, dirty and untouched. "God, that felt so real." I hugged the blanket tighter.

"It wasn't, Gabriel. Whatever it was. It wasn't real." Darcy filled our mugs and sat beside me, stroking my hand.

"No."

It wasn't real. But something about the hour, or the way the light was hitting Darcy's face was making the tension hard to let go. He did look strange. I couldn't put my finger on it. Pale- he was always pale. Wan. Almost grey. His eyes were darker than usual, I'm sure they were. Even his hair seemed to be duller. It was like he was doing what I'd always meant to do and... fading away.

"Are you... sick?" I heard myself say.

"Noo..." Darcy's voice wavered.

"You don't seem yourself." I looked at him. He nodded glumly.

"It's nothing to worry about." He said. I pulled my hand away and started at my tea. Liar. Big fat liar. Asshole. Why did he think he needed to lie to me? Ugh. Probably some bullshit 'to protect me' thing. As if I would care. Maybe anorexia was catching. Maybe he was a serial killer. Maybe he just had man flu and was being too pussy to tell me because he always boasted about how he never got sick... "I... lost my job." Darcy choked out.

"Oh." I sat up. "Oh! Oh no, Darcy! That sucks! I'm so sorry, I know you loved it." I pulled him into my lap and wrapped my arms around him. "What happened?" I pressed him into my chest. "Unless you don't want to talk about it."

"They decided to close the shop for my shift. Security issue I guess. So my job doesn't really exist anymore."

"Did they... At least pay you out?"

"Yeah they're being pretty good about it. I've got two more weeks and then all my holiday pay and stuff." He sniffed. "I'm all set until I find a new job."

"I could ask at the restaurant?"

"No, I can't work with you." He managed a smile. "I'll be distracted."

"Maybe in the dish pit?" I suggested. "Shit work but just while you're looking for something else."

"What are the hours?"

"6-12.30 or 1am- depending on the night."

"Huh." Darcy sat back, considering it. "Yeah. That would work for a bit."

"We've been looking for someone semi permanent since Cris fucked off. You'd be doing us a favour."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll talk to Derek and Fabrizio." I squeezed him.

---

He was working out the two weeks they'd given him at the gas station. I should have been paying more attention, but I was all 'new me' self obsessed, focussed on the grind to get my life back on track. I got him the job at my work and barely noticed his less than enthusiastic response. It was a few days before I realised he'd stopped responding to my texts entirely. I wasn't too caught up in my own head that I didn't miss him. I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to hang out. So I started calling. The phone rang out with no answer every time.

-

"Have you heard from Darcy?" I asked Sylvie as casually as I could over lunch. Her shoulders fell forward and she shook her head slowly.

"I was dreading asking you." She muttered. "I was hoping he'd moved in and was just too busy redecorating."

"No, he's... kind of, avoiding me I think." I frowned, stabbing at my salad. The waiter hadn't been paying attention and there was chicken in it, which made me nauseous as I worked around it.

"Yeah something feels wrong." She groaned. "I know it's not you."

"Yeah, I don't feel like it's me either." I dragged my cutlery through the dressing.

"Hey, ratbag." Sylvie snapped at me with a smile. "Playing with your food isn't eating it."

"They gave me CHICKEN." I wrinkled my nose.

"Here." She swapped our plates and I looked at her cheese scone with equal disdain. "Or we tell that guy he fucked up?" She suggested. I shivered internally. Nothing worse than complaining about a meal.

"Ok, fine." I tore at her scone ungratefully. I did eat it though. One starchy, salty crumb at a time. "I'm gonna go over to his tonight." I said. "He's meant to be starting on Monday. I should probably check he's not dead." That was meant to be a joke, but neither of us laughed. We just glanced up at each other grimly.

"Well. Berate him on my behalf." Sylvie broke the silence eventually. "He's not allowed to go no contact for over a week. It's illegal."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll tell him." I sipped my coffee. "Hey... you know how you.... Always have like a... sixth sense?"

"I'm psychic." She nodded.

"Do you have any... extra sensory idea about what the fuck is going on with him?" I asked. "Last time I saw him he really did look sick. I almost thought it was maybe drugs? Withdrawal from something? But there's no way Darce is on heroin or whatever."

"I think he's darker than you think he is."

"Sure, but he's a fucking clerk at Caltex, he can't afford a crippling drug addiction."

"True." Sylvie pursed her lips. "Well. I don't know exactly what's going on for him but I've always had this feeling about him that he's kind of.... Gone through something like you did. You know. With your dad."

"Oh." I closed my eyes.

"Well. Yeah. I never asked obviously..."

"He's never told me anything but it sounds like he had a pretty sad upbringing. He's orphaned."

"Yeah. So it might be just... that. Like depression and stuff. He probably needs therapy as badly as you do."

"Probably." I smiled thinly. "Ok. I better get to work. Thanks for lunch."

"Drop you off?"

"Yeah, thanks."

---

Darcy's door was unlocked when I got there. My spine pricked with an animalistic sense of danger, but I ignored it and strode into the gloom. There was a sliver of light beckoning me from his kitchen and I tiptoed down the hallway, my heart hammering. I swallowed as I stepped out of the gloom and into the kitchen. Darcy slowly looked up from the kitchen table where he was sat, hunched over.

He looked... awful. He was so pale. Almost translucent. He was taut, and thin, and his eyes were sinking into his face. He hung his head again.

"Hi, Gabriel." He mumbled. I ran my eyes over him.

"You stopped texting."

"Sorry."

"Sorry my ass!" I snapped. "You... look fucking sick, Darce."

"I know." He said quietly. "I... yeah. Yeah I feel awful."

"Have you seen a doctor?" I chewed on my bottom lip as I stared at him, desperately hoping he was just going to tell me it was a terrible flu and he'd be shining and looking... alive... any day now.

"I don't need a doctor." He groaned. "I know what the problem is."

"Oh." I opened my mouth to ask as he groaned and thumped his head down on the table.

"Gabriel." He peered up at me, his face unreadable. "You have to leave, or you have to... hear me out."

"Well I'm not leaving." I folded my arms.

"Don't then." He growled. I flinched. I felt myself bracing against the doorway as Darcy's eyes bored into me. "Sorry." He whispered, his face falling as he met my eyes.

"What's wrong, Darce?" I wanted to cross the space between us and hold him, but something was keeping me pinned to the wall.

"Last chance." He sat up slowly. I winced as I saw the way his clothes were hanging from his shoulders. "If I'm honest with you now... things are going to change."

"What are you going on about?" I folded my arms stiffly. "Change? Darce..." Christ, he looked so sick. Maybe I should have been calling an ambulance. Maybe this rambling was the result of genuine brain damage or.... Darcy scoffed and motioned for me to join him at the table. I stiffly made my way over, and sat opposite him, trying not to look at him too closely..

"I'm unusual aren't I?" Darcy said slowly. I glanced at my arm where I could feel the goosebumps rise.

"Uh... sure." I bit my tongue. "Me too though right? We're just a bit..."

"You notice things." He said. "I know you do... just... little..."

"Little Darcy things." I mumbled, cutting him off. "Sure. Is a little Darcy thing I don't know about biting you in the ass?"

"Well... kind of a big Darcy thing actually." He pursed his lips.

"Tell me then." I folded my arms slowly.

"You already know." He said huskily. I felt my jaw tense.

"Darce..." I started to whine. He glared at me and I shut up. His eyes looked strange. Cloudy and dark.

"You know it's unusual that I live at the opposite hours to most people." He said.

"You're a night owl." I smiled weakly at him. "That's why this works."

"Don't play dumb." He sighed.

"Don't be mean." I snapped. "So? Drugs? Cancer?" I closed my lips there, even though my brain had more to say. Drugs- not Darcy. Cancer? HIV? Maybe. More likely than... "Darce." My voice was wavering. "Can I help? Please?" Darcy stared at me. He gave me a ghastly smile, exposing his...

His teeth.

His....

Really...

Weird...

White...

Teeth.

I stared at Darcy. His... very, very strange, I'm sure they weren't always like that... teeth were...

"At this stage you're the only one who can help." He said in a low voice.

"Anything." I reached across the table slowly, my hand shaking. Darcy sighed and clasped my fingers. I winced at the cold. His hands were sharp and icy. His bones were rattling against mine.

"You don't know what you're offering." Darcy whispered. I forced myself to look at him. Something weird was happening with his face. His smile was...

Those were fangs, right?

He saw my expression change and he opened his mouth and licked his left incisor. I watched his tongue run over it, morbidly fascinated.

"Ah." He sighed. "Sorry. I..." He gave me this look that I knew all too well. His 'take me daddy I'm so damn horny' look. I stared at him.

"Uh.... So.... What... what am I offering?" I heard my voice rise. I tried to read his face but I was distracted by... his teeth. "Did... you always... have...?" I gestured. He didn't. You don't kiss someone like we kissed and miss... fangs.

"Just accept what you're thinking." He whispered. My heart hammered. I really, really didn't want to accept what I was thinking. It didn't... add up. Not to anything sane at any rate. "I didn't mean to show them off..." He grinned at me, exposing his teeth again. "Darling... I don't own a mirror."

"You're well adjusted. You don't care what you look like. You're not into fashion. You..." He raised his eyebrows at me.

"I wait to be invited in..."

"You're polite. Old fashioned."

"Have you always been this stupid?"

"I'm not stupid!" I glared at him.

"No, you're not." He sighed and slowly stood up and clambered into my lap. "Just stubborn."

He muttered, letting his head fall to my chest and wrapping his frail legs around me.

I held him and stroked his hair. My brain ticked over. Ugh. I felt the horrible sinking in my gut I felt from time to time when I looked at him. I didn't want to accept what I was thinking. I'd been working very hard not to accept what I was thinking.

"Fucking hell, Darce." I closed my eyes.

The thing is, Vampires aren't real.

But that aside, I was pretty sure I had one on my lap right now.