being human fic: we both go down together (aidan/rebecca)
Much to my surprise, my first Being Human fic turned out to be a weird angsty thing for Aidan/Rebecca that grew from the pornathon. So while I work on all that other stuff I was supposed to be doing, here you go. I should definitely go and point a finger at nonky for sating my hunger for Josh/Aidan and Aidan/Rebecca things. YAY. I will start on this enormous list of pronz I owe you now.
Monster meets girl. Girl becomes a monster. What did you think would happen? Aidan struggles with what he’s made of Rebecca after her first kill. Angst. R. (Aidan/Rebecca)
A patient had thrown a fit, and Rebecca was on the spot, mortification flushing her pretty face. It was reflex for Aidan to wink and reassure her, just another way to fade into the blur of horny nurses and orderlies. Luckily, he was still running on enough blood to convince the patient to take his medication. She’d smiled at him from the corner of the room, that’s when it all started. She’d asked him out, dimples showing, eyes seeking and dropping his. This was a horrible idea. She seemed to like him. He didn’t want to hurt her.
Their first date was terrible coffee first, rejected by his vampire senses and dry heaving from his stomach. He hadn’t fed on live blood in months. The withdrawal was a physical ache. She’d crept behind him into the single bathroom, patting his back and vowing they’d go some other place next time. The softness of her voice and the smell of blood under her skin was more of a sustenance than it ever could have been.
The shy seduction Rebecca perpetuated felt genuine. She wasn’t practiced like Bishop, didn’t always know the right thing to say or do. She listened to him, tilted her head, invited him in, unwary of the cutting teeth and black eyes that flashed under the surface. He’d learned some things about her inside. She still called her mother every day. There were picture frames of no one else, no brother, no father, no ex-boyfriends she was trying to forget. He couldn’t count how many girls like her he and Bishop had made disappear. Inside, Aidan’s mouth filled with a strange sense of panic.
There was no terrible bottle of wine, no stalling conversation. She’d twisted her shirt up over her head, giving him a clean view of her back, smell a banquet to his senses. She had always seemed so shy, but there was something underneath it. She knew what she wanted, knew what she would be taking. This couldn’t have been the first time she’d done this, he told himself softly. But it felt like it meant something to her. There was still humanity enough in him that he was flattered. Maybe that was what he needed, someone warm and sweet to block out the cravings and nervous sweats. He could hold out, he thought. He could give her what she wanted. He could be something more…normal. She was already naked.
Aidan dropped his clothes in heap by the bed, flirtatious smile at the ready and then dropping off his face. She wasn’t shy where it counted, skin smooth against his and teasing his senses. She tasted like heavily sweetened coffee, twisting lithely underneath him, blood pounding through her carotid like a drug. She came anchored and grasping tight underneath his hips. Any more could hurt her. The fog was clouding over his mind, already-the urge to grasp and bite and suck her dry.
Her mouth was open and emitting small sounds when he flipped onto his back, grasping for something sane and ugly to keep his head clear. “I’m sorry.” She said quietly. Didn’t understand this was what he needed. She thought he was disappointed, kept kissing him, lips pink and careful and insistent against his neck. His head hurt, teeth stung, and as his mouth opened and buried there, he heard her gasp like some far away noise in a tunnel. Like it was happening to someone else, not him, not her. By then, it was all over.
He made the call, breath hitching. They’d been talking about that, hadn’t they, Byron and the Beauty of death? The sight of her hurt- clean white skin marred by a bloom of red. She should have run as soon as he opened his mouth.
Aidan knew he had to run, knew Marcus was coming to take her body away with that hateful stain of amusement in his eyes. He was afraid to touch her. Her skin had felt warm, something he wanted to crawl into and hide in. He’d only see her in his head after that, every minute, and she was only beautiful and sad and dead.
“Go on, Aidan, do it, you know you want to.”
Rebecca is so icy now, laughing at his hand on her throat. She smirks with blood covering her mouth and running down her chin. He knows the girl bleeding out on the floor, a redhead Josh was sweet on. The smell of blood is making him dizzy. Aidan knows she’s right. Kara’s lost too much blood to live normally.
It’s his fault she’s dead. She’d wanted to go for coffee and he’d just wanted to talk for a while. Anything that took his mind off Rebecca’s body cooling in the morgue. He thought he’d let her know what a sweet guy Josh is.
“So soon?” Rebecca had whispered in his ear. “Couldn’t you have given me a week?”
He looked at her face and froze up. She wasn’t even faking breathing.
She started to tell Kara about how he hated coffee. All his polite turn-downs wouldn’t get him out of this one. He needed to tell Kara she was a risk….hey, my ex wants to rip your throat out. Rebecca lingered over the table, smile sweet, like an old girlfriend just learning to move on.
She waited to sink her teeth into Kara’s neck that night after he walked her home. The locked door didn’t matter when she was already inside. Aidan wonders if she chose Kara because she was jealous. He wonders why it matters.
“Save her, like you did me, why don’t you? Woops, you never meant to, did you?” Rebecca giggles, pink tongue swiping the blood off her lips. “I thought you were the guy, you know, and then I wake up in a dumpster.”
It’s strange that her eyes should still be the exact same shade as they were when she was alive. She looks like she’s searching for something in his face- an affirmation-an “I’m glad you’re here.” Aidan’s turned her into a killer like him now. He can’t give her anything. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. You liked it. I like what I am now. ”
“You killed her!”
“You killed me. You left me alone.” Rebecca sits licking her fingers, cross-legged against the wood floor as he tries to keep the blood in. “I’m hungry, Aidan.” Her voice is almost pitiful. “What could I do?” (He can barely remember his first kill, only Bishop’s calm voice as he shepherded him through.)
“I would have helped you get along without it.”
“Sure, that worked out so well for you.” There’s a familiar sheen, like a high, on Rebecca’s face. She’s sweating. This is no more Rebecca than the wolf is Josh. “Mmhhh. Can you smell that? You better turn her soon before I decide not to share.” She’s all wrong.
Kara’s eyes are growing sightless, incomprehensive. She was so young, and her only crime was being kind to him. Twenty-one, not two-hundred and some odd number. She was harmless and shy. Rebecca all over again. Something in Aidan shrivels. He can’t do this, not even for Josh. He can’t make another monster.
He washes Kara’s blood off his fingers in a sightless panic, pupils blackening, mouth a gaping ache. He wonders why Rebecca hasn’t made her escape, but she is standing there with her arms curled around her, staring at the pool of blood.
“I’m not going to turn you in.” He says tiredly. “If that’s what you’re worried about. Stay away from Josh and the hospital or that might have to change.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Take care of this.” Aidan wonders what price Bishop will exact for it, and how. It’s better if he thinks it’s him on the prowl again, instead of Rebecca. He doesn’t need to find out she exists. He can help her, he doesn’t need her seduced over his side or his plans for world domination.
“She’s really dead, then?” Rebecca breathes. “She was kind of pretty.” That is the only thing he can see left of her, the tiny look of sickness that passes over her face. She doesn’t try to drink again. She doesn’t try to leave and he doesn’t think he can look at her like this.
“You should leave. I can bring you something. It’s hospital blood. It’s not the same but, it helps.”
“Okay.”
She keeps looking at him like she doesn’t understand that he needs her gone. Rebecca was innocent and happy and human to him. She had been everything he was not. Now she’s watching him, blood-spattered face and lost eyes. He can’t hang onto her anymore.
She steps forward toward the window and easy freedom and he freezes. He knows his condition-their condition now. What you say is anything but what you are. She could go out and stalk Josh next…hurt him or any other in Boston’s population of thousands… He should stop her, but he’s the reason she’s like this. He has to trust her. He can’t steal this life from her too.
His body stiffens like a husk when she muffles her face in his shoulder. “It hurts.” She whispers. (Her body is cold, but he can feel her on every inch of his skin.)
That’s the irony, to him, to his life.
For a little while the pain stops.
Monster meets girl. Girl becomes a monster. What did you think would happen? Aidan struggles with what he’s made of Rebecca after her first kill. Angst. R. (Aidan/Rebecca)
A patient had thrown a fit, and Rebecca was on the spot, mortification flushing her pretty face. It was reflex for Aidan to wink and reassure her, just another way to fade into the blur of horny nurses and orderlies. Luckily, he was still running on enough blood to convince the patient to take his medication. She’d smiled at him from the corner of the room, that’s when it all started. She’d asked him out, dimples showing, eyes seeking and dropping his. This was a horrible idea. She seemed to like him. He didn’t want to hurt her.
Their first date was terrible coffee first, rejected by his vampire senses and dry heaving from his stomach. He hadn’t fed on live blood in months. The withdrawal was a physical ache. She’d crept behind him into the single bathroom, patting his back and vowing they’d go some other place next time. The softness of her voice and the smell of blood under her skin was more of a sustenance than it ever could have been.
The shy seduction Rebecca perpetuated felt genuine. She wasn’t practiced like Bishop, didn’t always know the right thing to say or do. She listened to him, tilted her head, invited him in, unwary of the cutting teeth and black eyes that flashed under the surface. He’d learned some things about her inside. She still called her mother every day. There were picture frames of no one else, no brother, no father, no ex-boyfriends she was trying to forget. He couldn’t count how many girls like her he and Bishop had made disappear. Inside, Aidan’s mouth filled with a strange sense of panic.
There was no terrible bottle of wine, no stalling conversation. She’d twisted her shirt up over her head, giving him a clean view of her back, smell a banquet to his senses. She had always seemed so shy, but there was something underneath it. She knew what she wanted, knew what she would be taking. This couldn’t have been the first time she’d done this, he told himself softly. But it felt like it meant something to her. There was still humanity enough in him that he was flattered. Maybe that was what he needed, someone warm and sweet to block out the cravings and nervous sweats. He could hold out, he thought. He could give her what she wanted. He could be something more…normal. She was already naked.
Aidan dropped his clothes in heap by the bed, flirtatious smile at the ready and then dropping off his face. She wasn’t shy where it counted, skin smooth against his and teasing his senses. She tasted like heavily sweetened coffee, twisting lithely underneath him, blood pounding through her carotid like a drug. She came anchored and grasping tight underneath his hips. Any more could hurt her. The fog was clouding over his mind, already-the urge to grasp and bite and suck her dry.
Her mouth was open and emitting small sounds when he flipped onto his back, grasping for something sane and ugly to keep his head clear. “I’m sorry.” She said quietly. Didn’t understand this was what he needed. She thought he was disappointed, kept kissing him, lips pink and careful and insistent against his neck. His head hurt, teeth stung, and as his mouth opened and buried there, he heard her gasp like some far away noise in a tunnel. Like it was happening to someone else, not him, not her. By then, it was all over.
He made the call, breath hitching. They’d been talking about that, hadn’t they, Byron and the Beauty of death? The sight of her hurt- clean white skin marred by a bloom of red. She should have run as soon as he opened his mouth.
Aidan knew he had to run, knew Marcus was coming to take her body away with that hateful stain of amusement in his eyes. He was afraid to touch her. Her skin had felt warm, something he wanted to crawl into and hide in. He’d only see her in his head after that, every minute, and she was only beautiful and sad and dead.
“Go on, Aidan, do it, you know you want to.”
Rebecca is so icy now, laughing at his hand on her throat. She smirks with blood covering her mouth and running down her chin. He knows the girl bleeding out on the floor, a redhead Josh was sweet on. The smell of blood is making him dizzy. Aidan knows she’s right. Kara’s lost too much blood to live normally.
It’s his fault she’s dead. She’d wanted to go for coffee and he’d just wanted to talk for a while. Anything that took his mind off Rebecca’s body cooling in the morgue. He thought he’d let her know what a sweet guy Josh is.
“So soon?” Rebecca had whispered in his ear. “Couldn’t you have given me a week?”
He looked at her face and froze up. She wasn’t even faking breathing.
She started to tell Kara about how he hated coffee. All his polite turn-downs wouldn’t get him out of this one. He needed to tell Kara she was a risk….hey, my ex wants to rip your throat out. Rebecca lingered over the table, smile sweet, like an old girlfriend just learning to move on.
She waited to sink her teeth into Kara’s neck that night after he walked her home. The locked door didn’t matter when she was already inside. Aidan wonders if she chose Kara because she was jealous. He wonders why it matters.
“Save her, like you did me, why don’t you? Woops, you never meant to, did you?” Rebecca giggles, pink tongue swiping the blood off her lips. “I thought you were the guy, you know, and then I wake up in a dumpster.”
It’s strange that her eyes should still be the exact same shade as they were when she was alive. She looks like she’s searching for something in his face- an affirmation-an “I’m glad you’re here.” Aidan’s turned her into a killer like him now. He can’t give her anything. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. You liked it. I like what I am now. ”
“You killed her!”
“You killed me. You left me alone.” Rebecca sits licking her fingers, cross-legged against the wood floor as he tries to keep the blood in. “I’m hungry, Aidan.” Her voice is almost pitiful. “What could I do?” (He can barely remember his first kill, only Bishop’s calm voice as he shepherded him through.)
“I would have helped you get along without it.”
“Sure, that worked out so well for you.” There’s a familiar sheen, like a high, on Rebecca’s face. She’s sweating. This is no more Rebecca than the wolf is Josh. “Mmhhh. Can you smell that? You better turn her soon before I decide not to share.” She’s all wrong.
Kara’s eyes are growing sightless, incomprehensive. She was so young, and her only crime was being kind to him. Twenty-one, not two-hundred and some odd number. She was harmless and shy. Rebecca all over again. Something in Aidan shrivels. He can’t do this, not even for Josh. He can’t make another monster.
He washes Kara’s blood off his fingers in a sightless panic, pupils blackening, mouth a gaping ache. He wonders why Rebecca hasn’t made her escape, but she is standing there with her arms curled around her, staring at the pool of blood.
“I’m not going to turn you in.” He says tiredly. “If that’s what you’re worried about. Stay away from Josh and the hospital or that might have to change.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Take care of this.” Aidan wonders what price Bishop will exact for it, and how. It’s better if he thinks it’s him on the prowl again, instead of Rebecca. He doesn’t need to find out she exists. He can help her, he doesn’t need her seduced over his side or his plans for world domination.
“She’s really dead, then?” Rebecca breathes. “She was kind of pretty.” That is the only thing he can see left of her, the tiny look of sickness that passes over her face. She doesn’t try to drink again. She doesn’t try to leave and he doesn’t think he can look at her like this.
“You should leave. I can bring you something. It’s hospital blood. It’s not the same but, it helps.”
“Okay.”
She keeps looking at him like she doesn’t understand that he needs her gone. Rebecca was innocent and happy and human to him. She had been everything he was not. Now she’s watching him, blood-spattered face and lost eyes. He can’t hang onto her anymore.
She steps forward toward the window and easy freedom and he freezes. He knows his condition-their condition now. What you say is anything but what you are. She could go out and stalk Josh next…hurt him or any other in Boston’s population of thousands… He should stop her, but he’s the reason she’s like this. He has to trust her. He can’t steal this life from her too.
His body stiffens like a husk when she muffles her face in his shoulder. “It hurts.” She whispers. (Her body is cold, but he can feel her on every inch of his skin.)
That’s the irony, to him, to his life.
For a little while the pain stops.