Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

After mention had been made of the taxi cab, and the details dutifully noted, the Chronicler's pen had ceased its scratching. 

This was a novel occurrence as nothing, (and one must keep in mind the kind of events that had been described up to this point), so far had caused the writer to pause in their work in this way. 

Clearing their throat, the subject of the interview cocked their head. 

“I understand it might be hard to believe.” 

“My belief or objective truth is not the point of the project upon which we are embarking. Only statements.” The Chronicler replied. A little weary at having to withdraw from the events once again to acknowledge the present. The subject was certainly coming to struggle with that aspect of the interview.

As a consequence of growing comfortable with the process? Or an attempt to distance and delay oneself from describing the approaching disastrous events? The transcriber had known either or both reasonings from their past recordings with others, and knew time would reveal the answer to them as it always did.  

“A point of yours that I am becoming more grateful for by the passing night,” The subject hummed appreciatively, “Truth has certainly been a controversial notion for the Court of Seattle.” 

“But,” The subject continued, “I can understand if you find this too ludicrous to keep in. And I would hate to give a testimony that-” 

“Would our fellow subject agree to these terms?” The Chronicler interrupted. 

A pause. 

“No.” Was the eventual response, “It's not that I think he was lying it's just…” 

“You do not recall these events yourself?” The summation was made to smooth the process along, and the subject nodded in grateful agreement.

“I remember the cab, the mist, the voice. The feeling of sliding over the polished leather seats in that ridiculous cowgirl costume but then…”

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing. What comes next, is only what Fabien alone said occurred. And he…” They trailed off, conflicted. 

“I will remind you of my sworn promise to note every detail of your testimonies without opinion or bias.” The Chronicler stated, calmly and without judgement. 

“Yes. Yes, of course.” 

Joey slid gratefully over the cab's back seats, buckling in and leaning against me in exhaustion. 

“Where to?”

I was about to speak out her address when… no.

No

Kindred have so very little human nerves and senses left after the change. The inward little bulb that alerts ‘Danger, Predator About’ hadn't blinkered on in many a moon. 

It was flashing bright and blood red in that one moment. 

Get away. Get away. Get her out.

My hand reached for the just-closed cab door, its twin reaching around Joey's middle to find the seatbelt buckle and free her (she wasn't moving? Wasn't saying anything. How could she not feel the presence swarming over us like a dark cloud on a sunny day?). I was dragging her close, close to me and closer to the door. There wasn't enough space but if I could shove her past me she would get out first and then-

“Interesting."

The whole production ceased at a breath from his unseen mouth. 

In fact, the whole of his being wasn't… perceivable to my old peepers. Every chance glance I took failed me as all I could see was the eyes, reflected in a cracked and warped review mirror. 

Two burning black coals in the dark. 

An image only slightly undone by the festive tree air freshener that dangled from the review mirror. 

A glance from those eyes forced my hand off the car door handle, but it couldn't make me release Joey. I held her close and tight, pushing her as much as I could in that confined space so she was nowhere near him. 

“Be at ease, Childe of Malkav. I have no intention to burden you with loss.”

Sure, fella. I thought testily, my arm tugging my girl just that little bit closer. In response her body lolled and sank downward; so I had to move her until she was in my lap, flopped over me like a gal with one too many drinks in her. What had he done to her? And how, without speaking a word in her direction? 

Whatever it was, we were at his mercies, and he was- 

Sweet talking the sheep at the butchers.

The Driver chuckled at the simile, the one I hadn't spoken aloud. Then, he started the car and took us for a drive. 

“A fortuitous comparison you make, Childe. Sheep to the slaughter…”

I hadn't been called that since Gideon. It chafed at me, just as it would a child. 

The burning gaze never seemed to leave the review mirror, though he drove like a consummate professional. When the car idled at a red light I tried to open the door handle again, to no luck. 

“What an intriguing specimen you are.”

Flattery won't let you off of a kidnapping charge, friend. I don't know what you are-

“You know. Your blood knows.”

… I don't know what you want but-

“To converse. I speak with so few of my children. Even fewer are worthy of acknowledgement.” 

Any other far more fanatical Lick would have loved to hear it, but my hands were full of the only thing I cared about in that moment, and she was drooling into my shirt with her eyes rolled back. Her body spasmed with slight seizure-like twitches that frightened me witless.

Joey's breath and body never seemed so fragile until that moment. A frail baby bird with its heart born outside its chest. My arms were nothing in terms of protection, though I held her close enough to try. Enough that her Milk and Honey hair were shoved right under my nose. 

If the door could have opened, I would have tossed Joey out into the road. It was a safer place for her than in the inside of that cab. Anywhere else would be. 

Happy to pass muster. We can chin wag all you want just please, let her go.

“That is the object of my fascination. How intriguing you are in comparison to your siblings, Childe. Where they would have perhaps used the mortal as a distraction for their escape, or bartered her life in place of theirs; instead you plead for her. For her to live on her shorter lifespan at the possible cost of your own.” 

Let her go, or at least just stop hurting her. Please.

The last request seemed a reasonable one to our vehicular host, as Joey's body relaxed and eyes returned to a closed and idle rest. 

“It is not I that plans her pain, Childe. My designs for her have already sprung to their fruition. Just as they have for you.”

The Driver navigated the streets for a time in silence. Silence commanded upon Joey and I both, as try as I might not a sound or a thought could spark into being. He'd muffled me, completely. 

“Before… in the time before, I had endeavoured to not have favourites. To be… different from my examples. To foster a place free from hostility. And while the hostility remained, I believe I succeeded in the former, as none of you are measured higher than another in my esteem these nights.”

A small chuckle emanated from the shadowy front seat. It was enough to set a chill amongst my guts. 

“I can admit, however, that Malkav was the better of my students. Excelling where his siblings still work to understand. So, I am not surprised that I have found yet another of his children to be the most capable of carrying out my wishes.”

You want me to do something for ya?

“It is already being done. A precise turn of fate was made for you some nights back. The slightest nudge to the hand in the hat, a promise, a connection. A future.”

“Just the slightest turns in coincidence, done only to avert the coming calamity fabled for this new year. The results have been… interestingly expedient.”

The gaze shifted down, from me to the sweet girl in my arms. She had slipped into a peaceful sleep and wormed closer into me, sighing my name in her slumber. 

Joey?

“Without interference, she would have become a harbinger.”

A harbinger? Of what? And her? My Jo? My sweet, hot tempered- well. Actually that could make sense. 

“I'd wondered at what to do with the problem of her, whether to allow her path to play out or perhaps destroy it before she could take her first steps towards oblivion-”

My hand rose to her head, clutching it close to my chest.

No. No, not-

“Calm yourself. I foresaw the chance of your paths crossing and took it. She has begun anew.”

Why?

“Because, I am benevolent when the mood takes me. I give choices where there were none offered for myself. And this world, these modern nights, are too… interesting to end now.”

Could have sworn I saw an eyebrow raised in the shadows of that mirror as the Driver added:

“And from what I have seen of your past and future prowess in… tempering fiery women. You will do perfectly.”

My… Future? I'm not sure-

“Let us not linger upon future endeavours. That victory has been foretold for you, though it comes at a heavy price…”

The cab slowed as we passed a storage building. One of many, nothing too particular about it.

“I will not deny… an interest in your future. In this city's future. To extend it past its preordained conclusion.”

Don't suppose you'll elucidate on that one, friend? 

“Your supposition is correct.”

Well. I'm happy to do whatever it is I'm already doing with Joey, if it means she'll be safe. My own… I couldn't give a darn in comparison. How the cards are dealt is how I'll play.

“I'm sure your mate would disagree.”

That gave me pause.

Alright. I don't have much choice in the matter anyhow. Neither of us do. So why the pep talk?

“... To wish you luck, my Childe. And to tell you, the weight of the world is upon your shoulders.”

I let out a nervous chuckle. 

That all?

The car stopped just outside Joey's apartment. 

“Appease an old man's interest in your private matters. I once… loved a fiery woman. And I lost.”

The eyes disappeared from the review mirror. They were looking… I was staring right into…

“Do not lose, Fabien Javier Camilo Dante de Laguna. The deck, as you would say, has been stacked in your favour.”

I let out a sound, something like a ‘huh’ of a squeakier and shaken variety. 

That was when the door handle finally opened under my tremulous hands. I scooped Joey up into a tight bridal hold, working on not banging her noggin against the side or roof of the cab as I desperately wriggled us out of the stuffy car and into the cold night air. 

Just hold onto her, I thought, even as I felt other thoughts slipping away until…

I was outside her apartment and… How did I get there? Did I carry her the whole way from The Glacier?

Strange. It felt like someone had just walked over my grave…

Joey shifted in my arms, shivered. She was cold. I had to get her inside. 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, and shrugging her bag higher up on my shoulder, I tried to think but…

Just hold on, and she'll keep you steady. Hold onto your girl, hold on to your love.

A voice spoke out from the cab, the back-seat door closing on its own. 

“Happy New Year, My Childer. Remember, wherever you go, it is the blood of Caine which makes your fate.”

I couldn't turn around for the unlife of me. He wouldn't allow it. 

The engine started up, and he departed as he arrived. As if from nothing, and into nothing. 

“Farewell, Vampires. And forget.”

I woke up in the elevator, blinking at the harsh LEDs and nuzzling my head into the warm surface of- 

“Fabien?” I grumbled out between the soft cotton of his vest and shirt. 

“Hey, sleepyhead. Almost home.” He replied as the elevator climbed closer and closer to my floor. 

“Mm. When did I… I don't-” I tried to move around, to look around. 

“It's alright, Babydoll. We had a big night. Let's get some shut eye.” 

“Noo,” I mumbled sadly, my hand running up his chest to fumble at loosening his tie and burying between his shirt buttons, “I want some of my private eye tonight.” 

“All in good time, Jo.” Was his breathy reply when my fingers touched the skin over his heart, which only had me more set in my ways. 

“I'll show you a good time~” The yawn kind of ruined the effect, but it still made his smile a touch wobbly. 

My hand started wandering some more. Thumb running over a peck, the pad circling over his-

“D-don't I know- heh- hey! Jo, wait till we're in your digs at least~” Fabien's hold on me shook from the ministrations and I hummed appreciatively. 

The elevator dinged and he carried me out into the hallway. Which was when Fabien set me on my feet suddenly like a discarded bag of potatoes. 

“Fabien?” Confused, I stumbled into him while trying to right myself against his body, “What's wrong?” 

“Company.” Was his one word, three syllable reply. Somehow, it was filled with all the irritation and malice that I didn't know could rest inside my usually chipper man. 

I was still facing Fabien, straightening up, so I didn't see what was causing his ire just at that moment. Though, it took its opportunity to speak up. 

He never could stand to be ignored. 

“Josephine.” 

Father.