Brody: connectedMature

Apparently when I'm in a shit mood, I can drain four people on top of the two you already had, and still want more. That can't be a good thing, right?

By the time I get to work, I've got a fair bit of blood on me, and I'm still in a foul mood.

"Been snacking, have we?" Brendon asks, looking up at me from the CCTV screens. I just growl in response, not really in the mood for him at all. "Do not growl at me," he says in this warning tone that only serves to piss me off more. So, instead of growling at him again, I swear at him, slamming off to the bathroom to rinse as much blood off as I can.

He waits for me to come back, apparently genuinely interested in why I'm in such a shit mood. "What's gotten you all worked up, then?"

"None of your fucking business," I snarl. Not that you can't guess, you miserable excuse for a vampire.

"Brody, I'd be careful, if I were you," he says, following me outside as I go around the pens, feeding the humans as usual. I pretty much ignore him, doing my best to just get on with what I have to do. "I mean it, Brody."

"Brendon," I stop and face him, "right now, I'm in the mood to rip apart anyone that gets in my way, and so far in the space of about two hours, I've already killed roughly six people, purely because they annoyed me. Don't fucking push it." He holds up his hands defensively, and I have to hold back a small smile.

"I am just warning you. Dustin is stalking something. Or someone."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I just thought perhaps it was you since you set his pet loose and all."

"Wonderful. Well thanks for really improving my mood," I say kinda snappishly, turning back to feeding the humans. He kind of follows me. And I kind of want to punch him. But I don't. It's not really worth it, and let's face it, if it's me that Dustin is stalking, then I should probably save the punching for him.

Although if he keeps following me... I give him a quiet warning growl. Which he ignores.

"Care to at least explain why you're following me?" I ask irritably, scowling at whatever poor human happens to be in front of me.

"You smell like Fate." Funny that. Actually, it is kinda weird, considering I should smell of human blood and/or death, or whatever it was Fate said I smelt of when I came back that time after feeding. I grunt and shrug, getting on with my job. Once I've finished with my chores, I'm kinda still waiting for Brendon's normal routine of making me drink til I feel sick.

"Not gonna make me squirm tonight?" I ask, shoving my hands in my pockets when he doesn't say anything.

"Not if you tell me what I want to know," he says with a smile.

"Which is...?"

"Do you know how to make Fate remember you yet?" I shake my head. He lets out a hum and I don't say anything, just sort of watching him. "I have an idea," he tells me. Why do I get a bad feeling about this?

"Oh? And what's it going to cost me to hear this idea of yours?"

"You have to ask for my help," he replies with a small smirk. Well, I guess it'll be worth a shot, right?

"...Please help me?"

"Better than that, Brody." C'mon, do I look like the kinda guy who ever really asks for help? I clench my jaw a little. He waits.

"Please help me make Fate remember me." He smiles, and I feel a tiny rush of relief as he speaks again. I was expecting him to make me work harder than that for an answer.

"Better. Now, when would he have felt most connected with you?" am I supposed to know? I stare blankly at him. "When you were sleeping together? When you bit him?"

"I... I dunno."

"Think, Brody." Think? Because that's gonna help me stop being such an idiot when it comes to emotions and shit like this.

"If I don't understand other people's emotions, how the fuck am I supposed to know when he felt most connected with me?" I ask, coming across more irritable than I mean to.

"Just try," he tells me with a sigh while I mentally slap myself. C'mon. Brody, he might actually be helping you for once, and you're gonna end up getting your ass kicked because you can't control your temper. I think, racking my brains for something - anything. When I can't really think of anything, I just get kinda frustrated at myself for it.

"I don't know! Maybe... maybe when he told me he loved me?"

"Maybe. Try again."

"When he realised it?"

He shakes his head, "No, he falls in love too easily. Again."

"When... we fucked?" I dunno. I'm running out of ideas here.

He holds back a sigh. No? "Brody, all you need to do is mimic that moment and he should remember. Theoretically..."

"So not when we fucked? What about when I took him to dinner?"

"Perhaps. You need to work it out for yourself."

"But I have no idea," I tell him, getting maybe a little desperate.

"I can't help you." I fall silent, trying to deal with the sudden mental overload. "Good luck," he says, sort of patting me on the back and walking off. Good luck? It's your fucking fault he's lost his memory in the first place! If you hadn't given him to Dustin, I wouldn't have to be here right now.

I stand there like that, staring blankly at the spot where Brendon had been, for ages. Long enough for my feet to start aching, and my head to start throbbing from thinking too hard.

C'mon, brain. Tell me when Fate would have felt most connected with me.


The End

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