Chapter Text
November, 1846, North-Western Territory, British North America
"What in the devil is wrong with you now, Jimmy?" Victor spits the question across the campfire along with the last bone of the dove that had been their supper. "You smell like blood. Your blood. Why you bleedin'?"
James has no idea what's wrong with him. He thought he'd never be sick again after his healing activated a year ago. But for the past few days, he's had a horrible pain low in his belly. He's been enduring it as best he could. This evening, whatever "it" is got worse.
It feels like something inside him is trying to tear its way out. The blood Victor smells is coming from between his legs. It's hot and sticky and disgusting. He can feel it traveling out of his body and staining his thighs and trousers.
"I asked you a question, runt," Victor demands, standing up. "Answer, or I'll force it outta you."
James tears his eyes way from the fire and sits up as his brother stalks closer.
"Why do you care?" He challenges, his claws ready to push through his pain-clenched fists.
"I wouldn't, 'xcept blood attracts hunters," Victor replies, standing a few feet in front of James with his arms crossed. "Y'gonna be a liability...again. Explain yourself."
James takes a deep breath in, avoiding Victor's eyes. He calculates his position with Victor looming to his left. The forest is to his back and right side. Straight ahead is the fire, and beyond that, Victor had claimed a set of boulders to guard his back.
"I...don't know," he admits. "But I can still protect myself, I swear," he adds quickly. "I'll...man up."
It's the first time James has repeated the phrase Victor flings at him at least once a week.
"Will you?" His brother's voice is low and leering.
James lifts his chin to look his brother in the eye even as his heart stutters. He's certain Victor already knows what's "wrong" with him, and that Victor intends to hurt him for it.
He stands up, ignoring his body's instinct to double over from the rending pain in his abdomen. He squares his shoulders to Victor's and lets his claws snap out. Victor's claws flex and his eyebrows raise.
"I will." James promises through gritted teeth.
"I'll have to see about that myself," Victor starts to reach between James' legs.
James catches his brother's wrist midair. He sounds like a wildcat as he drives his claws into Victor's midsection, putting his entire weight into the attack.
Victor hisses viciously as he stumbles back a few steps towards their dying fire. He snarls and regains his balance.
His fanged grin makes James freeze —
Victor's holding him by the throat. The fire to his right lights the side of Victor's demonic visage.
Gasping, James twists his claws in Victor's guts. Victor makes a sound somewhere between anger, amusement...and arousal.
James fights the urge to thrash for freedom. He's seen girls bleed out trying to escape Victor's hold. He forces himself to stay calm.
"Y'just makin' things more fun for me, Jimmy," Victor's words are as sharp as his smile. "You don't wanna show me, huh? Try and fuckin' stop me, frail. I think I deserve a fuckin' look after you hid it from me this long."
James spits at his brother and jabs upwards with his knee. When Victor flinches from the blow, James tears his neck out of Victor's claws. He yanks his claws back and hits the ground, managing to slash across Victor's groin on the way down.
James stabs into Victor's calf and rips through the muscle, temporarily hobbling him on one side. He knocks Victor's legs out from under him as he stands up.
As Victor falls forward, James scrambles up the knuckle of boulders. Before Victor can collect himself, James pounces on his back from a meter up.
Momentum topples them both.
Victor's face lands in the coals.
So do James' arms and knees.
James bites his tongue but endures the burn to stay on top of Victor. He pulls his arms out from under Victor's chest then drives his claws down into the back of Victor's shoulders.
Both boys scream.
James keeps Victor pinned down until he chokes in smoke and ash and blood.
His trousers and shirtsleeves spend so long in the stirred coals they take flame.
James spits on the back of Victor's head before he finally flings himself out of the fire.
He rolls on the ground to smother the flames; he's breathing fast and heavy himself.
Burns fade away.
James stares blankly into the scattered campfire.
Victor kicks James in the side. Before he can counter it, Victor turns him over with his foot.
Victor's boot pins James' throat to the ground. He sneers down at James as he brings his penis out of his pants. He points it down at James' face.
The urine isn't as hot as James' fury. He splutters, trying to pry Victor's foot off his neck.
Victor snorts. Once his bladder's empty, he braces his full weight on James' neck as he drops to his other knee.
Victor slightly lifts his foot off James' neck.
A drop of urine gets jostled out of Victor's foreskin into James' eye.
James' arm jerks up into Victor's genitals.
Victor swears viciously, suddenly releasing James.
James' windpipe takes a moment to regain functionality...
Air rushes back into his depleted lungs.
James' oxygen-starved brain overdoses on the breath. It can't make his body respond. His chest heaves; now his bladder's empty too.
Weight on his hips and wrists jolts James back to lucidity.
Victor is straddling him, kneeling on James' hands. His feet sit between James' knees.
James uses his next deep breath to scream.
Victor seizes the collar of his shirt and tears it apart.
James writhes as his flesh is torn too. Blood pools on his skin as the lacerations repair themselves. It soaks into the ragged shirt remnants.
Victor's hands are hot on his skin. He paws at James' chest, abusing the tender new breast tissue.
James hears his brother's voice, the one he uses when he's taunting his prey. He can't decipher the words over his own screaming. Even Victor's hand over his face can't silence him.
Victor's weight lifts off James' pubic bone—to make way for a hand. His brother's weight transfers through Victor's knees into the bones of James' hands and wrists. His claws shatter and his voice breaks.
The tips of Victor's claws trail down from James' navel.
When they dip into James' pants, he chokes on panic.
"Cat got your tongue now, virgin?"
James' entire body is tight with terror as two of Victor's fingers invade the same canal he's been bleeding through.
Neither brother says a word.
When Victor's hand finally leaves James' pants, it's bloody. Only some of it was inflicted by Victor. But enough.
Victor licks his fingers. His still-exposed member twitches above James' stomach. Another drop of heat hits his skin. Its concoction of ammonia & arousal burns like acid.
"Fresh blood. Delicious." James is disgusted but not surprised by his brother's comment. Blood hasn't ever stopped Victor from finishing what he starts.
All Victor's attention turns to getting James' pants undone. He has to shuffle backwards to keep his balance. It's the opening James was waiting for. He lets fury rush through his body.
James' claws puncture Victor's ribcage before he can get a grip on James' trousers.
Victor gasps a laugh. The air in James' lungs turns sour.
James tucks his legs to his chest and drives them up into Victor's belly.
Rage propels James' legs harder than he knew he could; Victor gets knocked backwards enough for James to roll free.
The brothers scramble to their feet, claws brandished.
"Enough!" Victor lets his hands relax enough for the claws to retract. They're never harmless, but they're in their least threatening posture. "Truce."
Victor's never called off a fight. James doesn't lower his claws.
"You're more pain than you're worth."
James' response is a growl.
"You fight like a man, proud of you. I'll make you a deal...brother." Victor begins. He gestures towards the log James had bled on.
Curiosity convinces James to let his claws drop to his sides. Still out, but not poised to inflict pain. If he lets Victor talk, James has more time to plan his next attack. He doesn't intend to actually listen to Victor's offer.
"You owe me more nights than you can count," Victor starts to rant, moving to sit on the log.
"I thought you wouldn't change in front of me 'cause you're stuck-up. An' ashamed your balls ain't dropped."
Victor chuckles. "But you got none."
James rolls his eyes, refusing to let Victor raise his hackles.
"Figured you weren't joining my fun 'cause you're a poof. Could barely tolerate having a prude pansy for a brother. But it's worse than that. You're a fucking girl. Should punish you for lyin' for a damned year!"
Victor spits into the remains of the fire before continuing.
"I deserve to make up for that lost fun. But because you killed him..." Victor spits the last word. James' first kill is the closest thing Victor sees to holiness.
James remembers what Victor did to their father's body—he'd insisted on getting it out of the grave.
"...and the fun ain't worth it yet anyhow, with how determined you are to stay a virgin...I won't screw you any time I want. But we both know I could, if I wanted. Keep that in mind."
Though he's on his feet, James feels backed into a corner. Either he agrees to the open-ended threat disguised as a compromise, or they'll be back at blows. He instinctively recoils from danger.
"An' you can't run. I'll find ya. And if I don't, other men will. Stick with me, and they can't touch you."
He's skeptical Victor will keep the deal. Then again, invoking his father is as serious as Victor can get.
"Swear it. In your blood." James demands. His claws sit just between his knuckles as he offers Victor his hand. The tension keeps his hand from shaking.
Victor nods approvingly. He extends the claw on his right thumb. He uses it to cut his palm the moment before gripping James' hand, nicking the back with his claws. James doesn't flinch, earning another nod from Victor.