Rage at the Moon 2/?
Title: Rage at the Moon 2/?
Series: TDS, Countdown w/ KO.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, Violence
Disclaimer: I do not own Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow, or any known political figures who appear in this story.
Summary: Summary: AU. Most people believe that the creatures werewolves and vampires only exist in myths and legends. But, they’re very much real, and in the city of New York. A chance of accident leaves one comedian in the middle of the eternal werewolf/vampire conflict.
Author's Note: Please comment. Feedback is good.
One
Chapter 2
Keith’s head snapped up when the sirens seemed to reach a deafening level. He had to get out of here before the police arrived. For a second, he considered leaving the unconscious man. He would only slow him down and…
No, Keith couldn’t leave this man. If he did, he would be taken to the hospital, which would lead to fear and pain when the intense spasms started as the poison flowed through his bloodstream and embedded itself in him. Then he would change, in front of hospital staff, and who knew where that would take him next.
No, Keith couldn’t leave him. He had to accept the consequences of what he had done.
Blue and red strobe lights turned the street corner. Keith had to move now. He scooped the injured man up in his arms and ran away from the approaching cars. “It’s a good thing you’re so little,” he remarked to the man in his arms.
He didn’t stop for another five blocks. Expectedly, people stared as he hurried past.
Keith hid behind a dumpster, anxious to check the man’s injured arm away from curious eyes. The blood made the bite look worse than it really was. The teeth punctures were neat because Keith had bit down and let go, instead of jerking the limb to try to rip it off.
Keith put pressure on the bite wound until the bleeding slowed to a sluggish trickle, then covered it back up with the sleeve. He picked the man up and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while carrying an unconscious man. Thankfully, no one took much concern at the sight.
Keith went to a subway point and entered the waiting train. He found an unoccupied row and took a seat.
Almost immediately, one of the other passengers approached and asked, “Is your friend okay? Maybe you should take him to the hospital.”
“Um, he’s fine. Just had one too many beers. He’s going through a tough time right now,” Keith explained. It wasn’t completely a lie. The man would be going through a tough time soon.
The passenger went back to her seat, shaking her head as though in judgment of them.
Except for counting the stops in his head, Keith ignored everything that went on in the train. His attention was only on the man laid out across the double seat, with his legs dangling off the side and his head in Keith’s lap.
“What’s your name, I wonder,” Keith quietly whispered. “What kind of life do you live?”
The man’s face was serene and peaceful. Keith knew the next few days would be anything but tranquil for him.
Keith enveloped the bite-ridden forearm with his hand and loosely held it. “I… I hope you can go back to your life with this… this condition. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t help but feel so guilty, even though he knew his part in this had been an accident. Beck had pulled this man into the fight as a shield, just like the coward he was.
The man whimpered in his state of unconsciousness, his face now expressing discomfort. Keith gently hushed him and moved his hand from the injured arm to the side of his neck to comfort him.
“Don’t wake up, yet. Sleep for as long as you can,” Keith soothed. “You’re going to need it.” The man’s whimpers ceased, and he fell back into that serene state.
The rest of the train ride was uneventful, although Keith did wish it were faster. He was nervous and apprehensive. All the exhaustion he’d had the moment he stepped out of his studio evaporated the instant he had caught scent of Beck’s cologne.
The train finally slowed to a stop. Keith picked up the unconscious man and hurried through the street-lit suburban streets. He couldn’t seem to reach his house at the end of a street fast enough.
Keith didn’t want to put the injured man down to dig his keys from his backpack. He rang the doorbell with an elbow. “Dan, hurry up!” he called as he pressed the button again.
“Did you leave your keys here again, KO?” inquired Dan Patrick, the other person who lived with him and Rachel.
“No, now can you just let me in?”
The second Dan unlocked and opened the door, Keith strode inside and went straight to the living room. He gently set the man down on the sofa.
“Keith, what’s going on?” Dan asked. “What happened?”
Keith ignored the question and retrieved the first-aid kit and a towel from the bathroom cabinet.
Dan repeated, “Keith, who is this guy? What’s going on? Talk to me.”
Keith laid the towel on the floor beside the couch and went to his knees. He took the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the first-aid kit and held the unconscious man’s arm out.
“KO, I mean it. Tell me wha-“ Dan cut himself off as Keith pushed the younger man’s sleeve up, exposing the bright red teeth marks on the forearm.
Keith’s dark blue eyes locked with Dan’s wide ones when he looked up at his friend.
“Did you… Did you find him like this?” Dan finally spoke after a tense moment of silence.
The peroxide bottle in Keith’s hand shook a little as he shook his head. Dan put his hand around Keith’s to steady it.
The chemical bubbled over the bloody wound, cleansing and disinfecting as it went. The excess trickled down the man’s forearm and down to the towel.
Soft whimpers came from the still-unconscious man’s lips as the peroxide stung his broken skin. He didn’t wake up, and once the stinging sensation abated, he was silent again.
Keith waited for the arm to dry before wrapping it in a couple of layers of bandage. Dan gently placed the arm over the man’s stomach, then covered him with the blanket draped over the back of the couch.
Dan picked up the first-aid kit and towel to put them away in the bathroom. He came back to find Keith sitting on the other couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands. His glasses were resting on the sofa arm.
“Keith?” Dan sat beside his friend and placed a comforting hand on his back. He figured that Keith would tell what had happened when Rachel came home.
The sniffling sounds coming from Keith left Dan with no doubt that his friend had bitten the sleeping man on the other couch. Dan started rubbing Keith’s back in an attempt to comfort.
Keith stiffened, then relaxed, but kept his head in his hands. “We… we swore to not bite anyone when this happened to us,” he said quietly.
Dan was anxious to know what had happened, but knew not to push Keith into telling him. He kept up his attempt at consoling his friend.
Rachel came home nearly an hour later. “Dan, you owe me lunch on Monday,” she said from the foyer. “Maybe that deli on-“ She fell silent when she entered the room to see Dan rubbing Keith’s back and a stranger under a blanket on a sofa. “Okay, what’s going on?”
Keith raised his head, his eyes red but no longer teary. He gestured to the unconscious man. “I bit him.”
Rachel sat at Keith’s other side. Her hand joined Dan’s on his back. After a silent minute, she inquired, “Do you want to tell us exactly what happened?”
“Beck and Hannity confronted me…” Keith started. It didn’t take him long to relate the violent encounter.
“Keith, it sounds like your part in biting him was an accident,” said Dan.
“That doesn’t excuse it,” Keith replied in a frustrated tone as he got to his feet. “He’s going to have to live with my mistake of not controlling myself.”
Rachel took a deep breath. “Despite the fact that you did bite him, you’ve given him something that we didn’t have.”
“What’s that?”
“Help. When this happened to us, we were left completely in the dark, afraid and not knowing what to expect. They didn’t explain to us what would happen,” explained Rachel.
Dan added, “You didn’t chase him down to bite him. It was an accident. And, you brought him home to help him. Clearly, that makes you better than those who did this to us.”
Keith shook his head and started pacing. Dan stood in his way to stop him on the fifth pass.
“It seems like everything happened so fast, and you can’t erase it. But, you want to make this as good for him as you can. That’s what matters.” Dan put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re not a bad guy. Rachel and I won’t think any less of you. Got it?”
“Okay.” Keith pulled Dan into a hug.
Rachel went over to look at the still knocked-out man on the couch. “You know, I recognize him.”
“You do?” inquired Dan.
“He’s one of the local comedians who’s had some national success. He had a show on MTV that was cancelled last year. He’s done a few movies, too. His name’s Stewart.” Rachel took a few seconds to remember the first name. “Jon Stewart.”
An actor and comedian? That gave Keith some hope that Jon could return and have a relatively normal life. “No wife or kids?” he asked.
“Not that I know of,” Rachel answered.
That gave Keith even better hope. He didn’t want to be the cause of breaking up a happily married couple, or kids not being able to see their father.
A couple hours later, Keith, Dan, and Rachel gathered around to watch as the man on the sofa woke up.
Jon Stewart blinked a few times to get his bearings. “Where… where am I?”
Series: TDS, Countdown w/ KO.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, Violence
Disclaimer: I do not own Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow, or any known political figures who appear in this story.
Summary: Summary: AU. Most people believe that the creatures werewolves and vampires only exist in myths and legends. But, they’re very much real, and in the city of New York. A chance of accident leaves one comedian in the middle of the eternal werewolf/vampire conflict.
Author's Note: Please comment. Feedback is good.
One
Chapter 2
Keith’s head snapped up when the sirens seemed to reach a deafening level. He had to get out of here before the police arrived. For a second, he considered leaving the unconscious man. He would only slow him down and…
No, Keith couldn’t leave this man. If he did, he would be taken to the hospital, which would lead to fear and pain when the intense spasms started as the poison flowed through his bloodstream and embedded itself in him. Then he would change, in front of hospital staff, and who knew where that would take him next.
No, Keith couldn’t leave him. He had to accept the consequences of what he had done.
Blue and red strobe lights turned the street corner. Keith had to move now. He scooped the injured man up in his arms and ran away from the approaching cars. “It’s a good thing you’re so little,” he remarked to the man in his arms.
He didn’t stop for another five blocks. Expectedly, people stared as he hurried past.
Keith hid behind a dumpster, anxious to check the man’s injured arm away from curious eyes. The blood made the bite look worse than it really was. The teeth punctures were neat because Keith had bit down and let go, instead of jerking the limb to try to rip it off.
Keith put pressure on the bite wound until the bleeding slowed to a sluggish trickle, then covered it back up with the sleeve. He picked the man up and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while carrying an unconscious man. Thankfully, no one took much concern at the sight.
Keith went to a subway point and entered the waiting train. He found an unoccupied row and took a seat.
Almost immediately, one of the other passengers approached and asked, “Is your friend okay? Maybe you should take him to the hospital.”
“Um, he’s fine. Just had one too many beers. He’s going through a tough time right now,” Keith explained. It wasn’t completely a lie. The man would be going through a tough time soon.
The passenger went back to her seat, shaking her head as though in judgment of them.
Except for counting the stops in his head, Keith ignored everything that went on in the train. His attention was only on the man laid out across the double seat, with his legs dangling off the side and his head in Keith’s lap.
“What’s your name, I wonder,” Keith quietly whispered. “What kind of life do you live?”
The man’s face was serene and peaceful. Keith knew the next few days would be anything but tranquil for him.
Keith enveloped the bite-ridden forearm with his hand and loosely held it. “I… I hope you can go back to your life with this… this condition. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t help but feel so guilty, even though he knew his part in this had been an accident. Beck had pulled this man into the fight as a shield, just like the coward he was.
The man whimpered in his state of unconsciousness, his face now expressing discomfort. Keith gently hushed him and moved his hand from the injured arm to the side of his neck to comfort him.
“Don’t wake up, yet. Sleep for as long as you can,” Keith soothed. “You’re going to need it.” The man’s whimpers ceased, and he fell back into that serene state.
The rest of the train ride was uneventful, although Keith did wish it were faster. He was nervous and apprehensive. All the exhaustion he’d had the moment he stepped out of his studio evaporated the instant he had caught scent of Beck’s cologne.
The train finally slowed to a stop. Keith picked up the unconscious man and hurried through the street-lit suburban streets. He couldn’t seem to reach his house at the end of a street fast enough.
Keith didn’t want to put the injured man down to dig his keys from his backpack. He rang the doorbell with an elbow. “Dan, hurry up!” he called as he pressed the button again.
“Did you leave your keys here again, KO?” inquired Dan Patrick, the other person who lived with him and Rachel.
“No, now can you just let me in?”
The second Dan unlocked and opened the door, Keith strode inside and went straight to the living room. He gently set the man down on the sofa.
“Keith, what’s going on?” Dan asked. “What happened?”
Keith ignored the question and retrieved the first-aid kit and a towel from the bathroom cabinet.
Dan repeated, “Keith, who is this guy? What’s going on? Talk to me.”
Keith laid the towel on the floor beside the couch and went to his knees. He took the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the first-aid kit and held the unconscious man’s arm out.
“KO, I mean it. Tell me wha-“ Dan cut himself off as Keith pushed the younger man’s sleeve up, exposing the bright red teeth marks on the forearm.
Keith’s dark blue eyes locked with Dan’s wide ones when he looked up at his friend.
“Did you… Did you find him like this?” Dan finally spoke after a tense moment of silence.
The peroxide bottle in Keith’s hand shook a little as he shook his head. Dan put his hand around Keith’s to steady it.
The chemical bubbled over the bloody wound, cleansing and disinfecting as it went. The excess trickled down the man’s forearm and down to the towel.
Soft whimpers came from the still-unconscious man’s lips as the peroxide stung his broken skin. He didn’t wake up, and once the stinging sensation abated, he was silent again.
Keith waited for the arm to dry before wrapping it in a couple of layers of bandage. Dan gently placed the arm over the man’s stomach, then covered him with the blanket draped over the back of the couch.
Dan picked up the first-aid kit and towel to put them away in the bathroom. He came back to find Keith sitting on the other couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands. His glasses were resting on the sofa arm.
“Keith?” Dan sat beside his friend and placed a comforting hand on his back. He figured that Keith would tell what had happened when Rachel came home.
The sniffling sounds coming from Keith left Dan with no doubt that his friend had bitten the sleeping man on the other couch. Dan started rubbing Keith’s back in an attempt to comfort.
Keith stiffened, then relaxed, but kept his head in his hands. “We… we swore to not bite anyone when this happened to us,” he said quietly.
Dan was anxious to know what had happened, but knew not to push Keith into telling him. He kept up his attempt at consoling his friend.
Rachel came home nearly an hour later. “Dan, you owe me lunch on Monday,” she said from the foyer. “Maybe that deli on-“ She fell silent when she entered the room to see Dan rubbing Keith’s back and a stranger under a blanket on a sofa. “Okay, what’s going on?”
Keith raised his head, his eyes red but no longer teary. He gestured to the unconscious man. “I bit him.”
Rachel sat at Keith’s other side. Her hand joined Dan’s on his back. After a silent minute, she inquired, “Do you want to tell us exactly what happened?”
“Beck and Hannity confronted me…” Keith started. It didn’t take him long to relate the violent encounter.
“Keith, it sounds like your part in biting him was an accident,” said Dan.
“That doesn’t excuse it,” Keith replied in a frustrated tone as he got to his feet. “He’s going to have to live with my mistake of not controlling myself.”
Rachel took a deep breath. “Despite the fact that you did bite him, you’ve given him something that we didn’t have.”
“What’s that?”
“Help. When this happened to us, we were left completely in the dark, afraid and not knowing what to expect. They didn’t explain to us what would happen,” explained Rachel.
Dan added, “You didn’t chase him down to bite him. It was an accident. And, you brought him home to help him. Clearly, that makes you better than those who did this to us.”
Keith shook his head and started pacing. Dan stood in his way to stop him on the fifth pass.
“It seems like everything happened so fast, and you can’t erase it. But, you want to make this as good for him as you can. That’s what matters.” Dan put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re not a bad guy. Rachel and I won’t think any less of you. Got it?”
“Okay.” Keith pulled Dan into a hug.
Rachel went over to look at the still knocked-out man on the couch. “You know, I recognize him.”
“You do?” inquired Dan.
“He’s one of the local comedians who’s had some national success. He had a show on MTV that was cancelled last year. He’s done a few movies, too. His name’s Stewart.” Rachel took a few seconds to remember the first name. “Jon Stewart.”
An actor and comedian? That gave Keith some hope that Jon could return and have a relatively normal life. “No wife or kids?” he asked.
“Not that I know of,” Rachel answered.
That gave Keith even better hope. He didn’t want to be the cause of breaking up a happily married couple, or kids not being able to see their father.
A couple hours later, Keith, Dan, and Rachel gathered around to watch as the man on the sofa woke up.
Jon Stewart blinked a few times to get his bearings. “Where… where am I?”