throwingstuff | And just one mistake Is all it will take is all it will take....

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vampire au

And just one mistake Is all it will take is all it will take....

This was not what Harrison had planned. Then again, he'd not realized he was up against an actual supernatural creature until it was too late. He'd thought he'd created a monster with the particle accelerator, but he'd just made an existing monster stronger. Then again, if someone tried to tell him vampires weren't only real, but right in his own back yard before it all happened, he would have mocked them. Mercilessly. The very concept of the undead defied science itself. It just wasn't possible.

Then he discovered just how possible it all was.

He'd made a deal with Zoom to get Jesse back. Trading blood for even the chance at her freedom. He didn't care if he was hurting the people he'd been trying to protect. She took priority above all else. But it was never enough. Not for Zoom. But in the end, it came down to a simple choice: His life for Jesse's. He'd assumed Zoom just intended to kill him. Drain him until there was nothing left. He didn't even hesitate. Anything for Jesse, even if he didn't get to see her again. At least she'd be safe.

But he'd been wrong. He woke up after it was over. Different. Changed. And still, Zoom wouldn't release Jesse. There was one last thing. Always one last thing. It never ended with Zoom. But now, it was the truest end. Bring Barry to Zoom to be turned as well. A command he found incredibly difficult to ignore. It sickened him, but still that drive remained: anything for his Jesse.

Time rolled on, and the team continued like normal. Harrison refused to say why he was more upset than normal. Refused to entertain any suspicions that he was different. No, he wasn't just going out at night, that was just coincidence. They needed to work faster. Find a way to render Zoom not only weaker, but turn him human. Killing him wasn't an option. No, he wasn't stronger, that was just a really weak mug. Stop asking so many questions, Ramon, and get back to work.

With each passing hour, he struggled with one decision. Did he tell Barry the truth, or just take him to Zoom?

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Harrison yanked his hand away almost as fast as Barry had grabbed it. He hadn't considered how his skin might feel to others, that not feeding might have more effect on him than his mood alone. It made him cold and pale enough to look like the walk corpse he really was. Too bad he didn't have the emotions to go with it, then he might handle this a little better.

"What's changed, Allen, is that Zoom STILL has my daughter. While you've been off on your little dates or whatever it is you choose to do when you're not here, I've been trying everything I can think of to find a way to slow him down before he decides to KILL her. Help or don't."

At least he wasn't lying. He just wasn't addressing the the thing Barry was asking about.

"That's not a change, Wells, we know, we're—" Hell, when had Harry gotten that strong? Barry didn't have super-strength, but his grip wasn't usually that easy to snap out of. The image of the crushed coffee mug came back to him and he folded his arms and side-stepped again, back into his path.

"Okay. I get that you don't want to talk about whatever's wrong with you, but that's not gonna work for me. And I know you don't care about that either, but I could always toss you in the pipeline and tell the others you've been acting suspicious. Which, y'know, wouldn't exactly be an exaggeration. Up all night, already gone by the time we get here in the morning, and you look terrible. Are you even eating?"

For a long moment, Harrison just stared at Barry. His expression said it all, really: he didn't have time for this, and it was none of Barry's business. He'd said it over and over. They weren't partners or coworkers. Barry and his team could help if they wanted, but otherwise Harrison was going to do it himself. Simple as that. He didn't answer to them, they didn't answer to him. Like roommates, only with more threats and fancier gadgets.

But these were facts that Barry never could get straight. The whole team seemed to forget that he wasn't their old Harrison Wells, and he never would be. He wasn't their mentor. He wasn't their partner. End of story.

"If you haven't noticed, most of these meta attack happen after dark. In fact, a lot of them happen in the middle of the night. Not all of us have the metabolism and vigor to be up all night putting out fires while also being awake all day long. So I'd rather put my energy into when these things actually happen. End. Of. Story." He didn't try to side step Barry again. He just kept staring at him. Daring him to try something.

Barry was already shaking his head slowly, real good at listening selectively when he wanted to, and he sure didn't hear that part about that being the end of the story. On the surface, yeah, it all made sense. Harrison didn't want to be their friend, that much was really obvious.

"Okay. Fine." He stepped aside, and then: "Sure you don't want to get a little sun first?"

It was a stupid suspicion. Wells as a vampire? When would it even have had time to happen? But they existed, it wasn't impossible, which meant it was possible, if improbable.

"I can take you out somewhere right now. Just for a few minutes." And he took one measured step forward, and dropped his hands, ready to scoop Harrison up and speed them both into the sunlight that had to be pouring over Central City by now.

As Barry stepped closer, Harrison stood up just a little straighter. His patience continued to wear incredibly thin, and he wasn't going to put up with it any longer. Because any sane and human man wouldn't play into Barry's stupid suggestions for a moment longer.

"What you're going to do," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Is get in that lab--" he pointed back to the cortex, "--and figure out how you're going to get faster. The more you stand around here, playing these stupid games, the longer Zoom has. And the more people he's going to kill. So unless you want more people to die, you'll stop--" he waved his hands at the air between the two of them. "--whatever this is!"

Flustered, angry, and demanding. That should be convincing enough. If only he had something to knock to the floor.

The more annoyed Harry got, the more Barry stood and waited for him to finish, and then he'd finished and Barry moved. A second later, the hallway was empty and Barry was racing for the roof, Harry scooped up in his arms. He might not be as fast as he could be, or that he would be, but he was fast enough to get Harry onto the roof before he could react and try to stop him.

The sun is still low, the sky that certain white of early morning, but there's sunlight on the roof. Barry comes to a skidding stop in the shadow of one of the pylons, a sharp line of white light only a few feet away. "It won't take long."

Harrison couldn't get his bearings as they sped through the halls. He was fast, but Barry would always be faster. He tried to grab onto something, anything, to halt their progress, all the while shouting for it stop. But even his supernatural reflexes weren't enough. Perhaps if he actually fed, he might be able to contend. But not now.

The moment they stop, Harrison tears himself free of Barry's grasp. In an instant, he's got his back pressed against the pylon, further from the light, looking more disheveled and frazzled than ever. But the biggest change was his eyes, the whites were gone, flooded with dark red that looked almost black in the shade. It made him look almost wild.

"Damn it, Allen!" He shouted. "What's wrong with you?!"

"Nothing," Barry shot back immediately, standing in the sunlight where he suspected he'd be safe from retaliation. Everything made sense now, the nocturnal habit, the extra snappishness, the extra strength. The red, wild eyes. The way he was almost cringing into the pylon to keep away from even the weak early-morning sunlight. "But I know what's wrong with you."

Then he took a risk, stepping back into the shadow, back into range of the, well, god, the vampire. "Why didn't you tell us, Harry?"

Harrison's gaze flicked to that line of light on the ground, then back to Barry. He had more than enough time to get inside before the sun really became a problem, but it was difficult to stifle that little part of his brain that screamed frantically to get back inside. It was bolstered by the hunger that he'd been trying to keep a lid on, but the energy expended during his little jaunt with Barry weakened his grip on it. So in that moment as Barry stepped closer, he wanted nothing more than to lunge forward and tear into his throat.

Closing his eyes, he tried to steady himself. But when next he spoke, his fangs were very much visible. "There are just somethings you don't need to know, Allen. And that's why you're going to leave. Right now."

"No. I'm not." It was that infuriatingly steady tone that Joe had learned to hate hearing, the one that said that Barry had decided on the right course of action and nothing was going to budge him from it. "You're not going to beat anyone like this, especially not Zoom. You keep telling me that we need to work harder, and this is what you're doing to yourself. You think I don't know the signs? You're hungry. When was the last time you fed? At all?"

For a moment, Harrison just continued to glare at Barry from his place in the shadows. It was made more ferocious by the fangs and eyes, but it was still the same long-suffering glare he always gave the younger man. He didn't move right away though, he was afraid to move. If he moved, it would be toward Barry, compelled by his hungry for that rapidly beating heart.

Why couldn't anyone understand this? He wasn't going to FIGHT Zoom. He was going to stop him. He was their secret weapon, now. He could use his own blood, his own samples, to find what could defeat Zoom with the least amount of fighting. But he lacked the patience at the moment to even start to explain that. Or justify why he hadn't fed. That much should have been painfully obvious.

"This is me working harder, Allen. Now if you won't leave, I will." With a faint growl, he tore himself from the wall, putting all of his effort into not diving for the door to get away from Barry.

But Barry wouldn't be Barry if he didn't have his own ~~misguided~~ ideas on how best to help people, people he considered his friends, even though he knew Harry would scoff at the idea and tell him off for it. So when Harry started stalking for the door, carefully evading the slice of sunlight, Barry sped in front of him, but he miscalculated how fast Harry could move now and ended up right up against him, hands fumbling for Harry's shoulders to steady himself.

It wasn't a good idea to be this close to a hungry vampire, obviously, and Barry should know better, but he still trusted Harry, and he trusted his own speed to get him out of it if he needed it. He'd be fine. He looked at Harry, at the sharp red eyes, the too-white fangs, and said, "This is stupid, Harry. Let us help you."

Harry came to a sudden halt as Barry appeared before him. He could have bowled the younger man over, pushed on though and escaped. But for a moment, he didn't want to. His hunger would allow him to move another step, not when exactly what he needed stood immediately before. Touching him. He knew he should pull himself away before anything happened.

But in Barry looking him dead in the eye, he just couldn't resist any longer. An instinct that wasn't entirely his own kicked in and his pupils dilated. "Don't. Move." The words came out as a harsh, almost strained whisper. He'd reached out with a power he still hadn't entirely understood, the mind control that Zoom had mastered and allowed him to command the metas. He needed to pull away, but the smell of Barry, so very close, the sound and feel of his pulse, called to him with more ferocity than the heat of the sun behind him urged him inside.

"Wha..." And the rest of the word dissolved as Harry's words poured into him, slinking along his veins. He felt light, like his feet weren't quite touching the ground anymore, but at the same time his limbs were heavy and slow, they'd move like they were underwater if he wanted to move. But he didn't. He didn't want to move. He would never even consider moving. Harry wanted him not to move. He should do what Harry wanted.

"...okay," he murmured, hands still on Harry's shoulders.

Even with Barry so close, Harry knew, deep in his heart, that he should pull away. He could dash inside and get passed Barry, get away from the sun and let himself calm down. He had things to tide him over, but bags from the blood bank were no better than a human living on stale bread. And here Barry was, like a gourmet meal laid out before him. He felt something inside him shudder as he tried to pull away.

But instead of moving to the side, he surged forward. He yanked Barry closer at the same time, striking like a viper. Fangs bit hard into flesh, before he even tried to tell himself to stop. It was too late.

What was also too late was that his powers of hypnosis were weak at best. Once eye contact was broken, the effects faded fast, and the pain of his bite would only hasten that even more.

What came back first was the sensation in his arms and legs, that dim crackle of speed that was always there in the background, and following right on its heels was pain, hot and vivid. Oh god, he was, he was biting—it hurt—

Barry's eyes flew open and his hands gripped Harry's wrists, pushing hard, and it didn't do a thing. "H-Harry," he managed, barely, a hoarse, wet-sounding whisper as he thrashed in that superhuman grip. "Harry, stop—"

The moment Barry's blood hit his tongue, it was like the whole world changed instantly. Why had he fought this? Why had he resisted so long? He felt as though power rushed into him with every swallow, like he'd been asleep all this time and only now he was starting to wake up. It took Barry to make him see that, to push through all that was holding him back. Really, Barry brought this on himself. He deserved it for pushing him. All while a small part of him still cried out in horror, fully aware of what was happening. Of what could happen if he didn't let go. If he just kept going. But oh he wanted to keep going and never stop.

Even as Barry tried to pull away, Harrison gripped him tighter. A low, wet growl sounded from the back of his throat, refusing to let go. He just bit down harder, tearing deeper. The beast inside him had been deprived too long and insisted on making up for all that he'd missed. Even trying to pull himself back wasn't helping. It just felt too good. And it became more and more difficult to fight himself, even knowing it was Barry he was hurting. Because if he had this kind of power all the time, if he felt this as often as possible, maybe he'd have the strength to defeat Zoom himself.

Barry's head was fogged over, he couldn't escape, a small part of him still didn't want to, but his instincts as a speedster were shouting at him to run, so he stopped trying to pull away and pushed forward, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist, and he ran. Lightning streamed behind him and he left a bloody trail to mark his path, but finally they were evenly matched.

They ended up in the room where they'd failed to catch the Reverse Flash once upon a time, the place Cisco had died once in another timeline, and Barry was gasping for air when he stopped short and shoved. He was operating on instinct by now, but his instincts had been right, he managed to send Harry flying across the room, and he zipped to the opposite corner, a hand clasped against his slippery throat, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

It was strange. Harrison was both aware of the sudden speed and at the same time not. Because he didn't want to let go. He just held on tighter, part of him knowing that if he let go it would be far too long before he had this again. Barry could heal, that part of him reasoned. Barry had healed from impossible injuries. Things that left people permanently disabled, he'd healed from in a matter of days. What was a little blood loss? All while the part that was still Harry bellowed in rage, trying to pull himself free before there was irreversible damage done.

Sp entrenched in this internal battle, he didn't have time to brace or prepare for their sudden stop. Strength meant little with that kind of force. His hands jarred free as he was thrown from Barry. Hitting the far wall, he slid to the floor in a seemingly unconscious heap. But the concussive force was enough to bring him back to himself rather rapidly, complete with the horror of all that just happened.

He started to get up, making it only to one knee before stopping. He reached up to wipe the blood from his lips, staring at it. "Damn it, Allen!" he growled. "I warned you!" As if this were entirely Barry's fault, even though he knew it wasn't.

Barry heard the words, he heard the tone, but it came through as if he was underwater. He was sure his breath shouldn't sound like that, and the edges of his vision were starting to go a little fuzzy, and, and, and how hard could he squeeze on his own neck, not too hard right, what if he suffocated while he was trying to stop the bleeding, and...

"H...arry," he whispered, pushing to one knee and immediately falling backward to slam against the wall, the palm of his other hand skidding on a smear of blood on the floor before he could get his balance back. "Harry," he tried again and it sounded awful but he had to keep going, "Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't—"

They cloying scent of blood still hung in the air. At first, Harry blamed the smears still clinging to his fingers and lips. It had invaded his nose and now it wouldn't leave, taunting him with what he'd done, and what he still craved. But it was too heavy and thick to be mere remnants. That's when he realized Barry's unsteadiness wasn't entirely out of fear

For a moment, Harry froze, staring at the fallen speedster over his own hand. He was still bleeding. How could he still be bleeding? Harry had experienced it himself. Even humans healed impossibly fast from a bite. Had he done not done something? Had he missed some important detail? No, Barry's own super healing would take over. It should have closed the wound enough to keep him from bleeding over the floor. So why wasn't it working?

Then it hit him. Two healing factors, one from the inside the other from the outside, attempting to do the same job. Instead of stacking and making each one work faster, they were getting in each other's way, slowing each other down. A wound like that couldn't just be bandaged and left to heal. He'd bitten too deep. Barry would bleed to death without immediate intervention.

Before he could think it through, he was dashing across the room, his own wrist coming up to his lips. He tore into it as he dropped to one knee in front of Barry. Seizing the younger man by the hair, he shoved his now bleeding wrist against Barry's mouth. "Don't ask questions," he growled. "Just drink it."

The way he felt, Barry wasn't certain he could have managed to ask questions. He gripped Harry's shoulder with blood-slicked fingers before warm skin was pressed to his parted lips and his tongue flooded with the taste of tin. He licked, a reflex, and swallowed, and his body vibrated and calmed. He could feel the Speed Force sparking through him again, and he felt that familiar hunger that came from expending too much energy, he was hungry and he swallowed again and again.

With every warm mouthful he felt better, more energized, stronger, everything now a low-level hum, and he hardly noticed when that pushed past the threshold of his ordinary strength.

Knowing what it felt like, Harrison was prepared for adverse reactions. The blood could have an obscene, profound effect on body and mind. A single drop felt like life essence itself. A mouthful was unlike anything else in the world, like everything had been turned to full volume, full intensity. But he knew just how difficult it was stop. He'd clung to Zoom's arm more than once. Even after fighting and trashing against it. Even after all Zoom had put him through, he could not force his fingers to loosen.

But as he watched Barry, even without a grip on his arm, he could tell something wasn't right. He couldn't place it. He'd only ever experienced it from the inside before, but his gut told him this was wrong. Even if he couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was, at his very core he knew this wasn't normal. Not for a human, and not for a speedster.

"That's enough," he said. His hand planted on Barry's shoulder for stability and support as he pulled his wrist away.

Vampire blood did different things to different people, his clinical scientist's mind told him. It depended on the health status of the human, the circumstances, there were dozens of factors. It looked like the Speed Force was one of the factors that hadn't been calculated yet.

Barry ducked his head after the wrist and licked it once more before falling forward, rolling onto his back with his arms spread as if he was going to make a snow angel right on the Cortex floor. More like a blood angel, he thought giddily as he grinned and started laughing, fledgling fangs gleaming in the overhead lights.

He could have caught Barry, but the fall wasn't far enough to even bruise and for as worried as Harrison was, Barry kind of earned it. None of this would have happened if Barry had just left well enough alone. And now he was left inspecting his wrist, expecting to find that same strange delayed healing. But instead, the marks were fading already, most of it was just blood on the surface of his skin.

He looked up to yell at Barry again, when he saw tell-tale fangs starting to form. It was as though the floor dropped out from underneath him. His heart still hadn't stopped beating. It had taken hours of screaming agony and terror for him to get that far in his own transformation. He had a feeling Zoom had done something to make it worse, but nothing could make it this fast.

In a snap, he was on top of Barry, one hand planted against his chest, the other gripping the young man's chin. "Allen!" He growled. "Barry, you need focus. You need to--I don't know--vibrate, phase, something. The blood it's not--you're not--this isn't right!" He leaned closer, voice growing more urgent. "You're turning, Allen. We need to stop it!"

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