Imagine Egg A1 still has one life left, and it somehow manages to escape the facility... It is being followed by mobs, by Federation employees, being hurt by the poison ivy and other environmental threats, but it keeps running, because what other choice is there? That parkour course was a trick after all, the last block was a fake, it was never meant to pass that test in the first place.
So it keeps running, but the Federation workers are getting closer. It won't be able to avoid them forever...
But then it bursts through some bushes and comes face to face with someone new - and it's Bad, out building or exploring or just wandering alone. A1 is immediately afraid, of course. It is a stranger, a very visually striking stranger, the complete opposite of the pure white and featureless employees of the Federation. But there are people close behind, and it knows what will happen to it if it is caught, so... It has no choice but to try. It has no way to communicate, no signs or books, so it simply rushes to hide behind him and hopes he understands, and that he is willing to help...
And Bad, for his part, well.. he's an extremely cautious and paranoid person, and this is just an incredibly confusing and unexpected situation to be in. An unknown egg appeared out of nowhere and is hiding behind him, he can see Federation employees in the distance that are clearly looking for something... He knows that the code has been disguising itself as eggs, and that the strange egg in front of him with no marks, no distinguishing features, an egg that he has never seen before, could easily be the code monster preparing to attack at any moment...
But there is absolutely no way Bad could ever look at an egg in distress and not try to help it, even knowing it could be a trap.
So he quickly digs a shallow hole and pushes the mysterious egg into it, covering it up just in time, and when the employees throw him a book asking if he had seen anything, he lies effortlessly, he complains about nonsense, he asks them where the Ekea is and is as annoying as he can be, until they leave.
And now they're alone... just Bad an this mystery egg in the middle of the woods, A1 too afraid to leave the hole even when Bad tries to coax it out. He gives it food and tries his best to comfort it, to tell it everything is okay and that the pursuers are gone. He gives it some signs and a book, trying to see if it will write anything to him or answer any of his questions, but he gets no reply. A1 is just too afraid to even attempt to answer, and Bad doesn't even know if it understands him. He tries what few words he does know of the other languages, and still no response.
What should he do? As much as the image of a tiny, terrified egg makes him want to do all he can for it he also needs to be safe. He can't bring it home, because if it is a code there is no way he is bringing it anywhere near Dapper. Should he call someone else for help, or would that draw too much attention? Would it even be safe for him or the egg to let anyone know right now? And was this egg dangerous, or harmless and in need of protection? He wouldn't abandon it regardless but...
What now?
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It makes him dizzy, how much he loves these people. These are his people. His friends. His family, and his everything. So the fuck what if they’re blood-drinking, cold-hearted vampires to the rest of the world. They’re his vampires, and he knows that’s not true. He’s never met anyone as warm as them.
No wonder Sandman is an arsonist. Donnie claims he set shit on fire as a kid to keep himself warm at night when he was lonely, and when the flames spread it stuck with him. The habit, and the warmth. Sandman’s softer than he gives himself credit for. He puts on a big nasty painted grin and bares both pairs of teeth, but he’s the warmest of them all. He always feels so bad, strokes Crab’s hair when the others feed.
Only one of them can at a time. Obviously. One human is not enough food for three hungry vampires, not when they want to keep him alive, at least. Donnie is the one who cleans him up. If Benze has been drinking his blood, he’s always far too dazed and shaken by the end of it to be the doctor. They still don’t know if it’s a personality thing, the distant, almost drunken shock that takes hold of Benze when he’s just eaten, or if it’s because he was made different than Sandman or Donnie.
Donnie is careful and gentle, if unpracticed, when he dabs at the bite marks. He’s Crab’s blood family. When Crab is dazed like this, the irony seems hilarious. His only blood, drinking his blood, and then patching him back up like they used to as kids when they’d get into petty scraps and then make up later. Crab giggles, lets his head fall back against Sandman, nose stroking lightly against his cheek.
Sandman never feeds on him. Never. Not once. They’ve fought about this. But it’s okay. Sandman always, always holds him. It doesn’t matter if it’s this or a real injury. Sandman is so good at holding. Crab can feel him turn his head, nuzzling at his hair. Sandman kisses his forehead. Crab smiles at that.
“Hi,” he breathes, lightheaded. Sometimes he can't tell if it's more from the blood loss or from the contact it entails. He thinks he could get drunk on this feeling, of loving and being loved in return, in the most visceral of ways.
“Hi,” Sandman whispers back. He's positioned behind Crab, with Crab leaning back against his chest and his chin hooked over Crab's shoulder. He strokes Crab's face again, doing a shitty job of hiding that he's checking his pulse. “How you feeling?”
Crab’s hands are shaking, just a tiny bit. Benze and Donnie are always so, so careful with him. They would never take more than he can spare to lose. He’s a little bit dizzy, and the puncture wound stings, but he’ll be fine by morning.
“I’m fine,” he replies, rolling his eyes though it sets his narrow view, mostly of his friends, tilting. Sandman lets out a relieved sigh. Crab huffs a quiet laugh. “Relax, dude. It’s okay.”
“I know,” Sandman says tersely. He’s so rarely this edgy, at least not so obviously. It’s almost endearing, but mostly sweet.
Crab turns his head awkwardly so he can look Sandman at an angle, peering up at him from his position with his head resting comfortably on his shoulder. “I’m okay,” he says softly.
“Don’t begrudge us our concern,” Donnie says. “Move over, he gripes, then knees Sandman in the ribs climbing onto the couch with them and gets an amused oof in return. Donnie will always, always choose to take care of Sandman if he has to choose. He knows his cousin can handle himself. Sandy’s a different deal. It's almost scary the bond those two have, and it has been since they were little. Crab used to feel like an outsider around them because they're so close. Now he's grateful for it. They won't ever end up alone.
Donnie slots himself in beside Sandman and reaches for Crab's hand. It's like they think they're killing him, or something. If he was dying, or even a bit too dizzy, he'd tell them. They should know that by now. There's no need to be so melodramatic about it. Being a dramatic bitch is his job. Crab tells them this.
"You guys know," he says, breathing softly against Sandman's jaw, "You make way too big a deal out of this?"
"Shut up," Sandman grumbles, low enough that Crab can feel the vibration where he's leaning against Sandman's chest.
"No way," Crab retorts, smirking a little dizzily. "It doesn't bother me, you know that."
"Maybe it should," says Donnie, sounding mildly perturbed. "We're not gonna stop worrying," he adds, then sighs, exasperated. "Benze, come here."
There's a moment's heavy hesitation. "Are you sure?" Benze asks quietly. When Crab turns his head to look at him, he's looking at Sandman. There's some kind of bad blood between them. Pun intended. It's like no matter how hard they try or how much they love each other, they're still afraid. Of each other, or what they're capable of. They can practically read each other's minds. Crab doesn't know what there is to be afraid of, but he sees the fear anyway.
"Benze," he murmurs. "Baby. Come here." It's a cheap shot, honestly. He knows the pet names are one thing Benze can never withstand. He kind of wonders if Benze had ever been loved before they met. It's a little sad to think about for too long. But it works. Benze's face, smeared with his blood a few minutes ago before he had the presence of mind to clean himself up, crumbles and he slowly joins them on the sagging couch.
"It's okay, dude," mutters Sandman, stretching out one hand to grab Benze by the back of the neck and pull their foreheads together. Benze sinks onto the cushions, hands briefly ghosting over the bandaged bite marks before he curls himself tightly, almost protectively, around Crab's side.
"Hey, baby," Crab whispers. Benze blinks slowly at him, red reflection from his eyes flickering in the half light. "You're okay. I trust you," he says, though he's said it so many times. "I love you." Benze still flinches at that. That's part of why Crab says it so much. Half to teach him that it's true, but partly to see the stunned, awestruck look in his eyes. It's like magic.
"Thank you," Benze whispers back. It doesn't matter if he means for feeding him or for loving him. It's kind of the same thing, anyway. Benze doesn't say I love you back. He never does. Crab isn't sure he'll ever be able to. But he knows.
Their blood is cooler than it should be, they can't regulate temperature as well as they should be able to, but with the three of them wrapped around him like this, Crab feels warm. How could anyone ever think they're monsters when they're so full of love? How could anyone ever fear them? How could they hate them?
He loves them so much he'd die for them. Bleed for them. He loves them so much, it makes him dizzy. There's nothing wrong with that being extremely, viscerally literal. Because it means that they know. And that's the warmest thing he can think of.
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