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First Kill
by Evilida
House and Wilson were in the parking lot outside a Wal-Mart store. House couldn't have named the town they were in; it was just one of a string of forgotten and impoverished farming communities. They stood in an area of shadow on the edge of the lot, just beyond the bright lights. Anyone who stepped out of the light toward them would be at a disadvantage, because their eyes would not be adapted to the darkness.
Sleet beaded House's hair, and icy water dripped down the collar of his coat and puddled in his shoes. He'd hoped to make Wilson's first kill enjoyable and memorable, but neither the weather nor Wilson was co-operating.
"We could find the nearest hospital," Wilson argued, "and I could raid the blood bank, or maybe we could go to a farm where there are cows and horses and I could drink animal blood instead."
"Has to be human, has to be fresh," House said. "Don't you think I've asked the same questions? There are no loopholes or secret clauses that let vampires live without killing people."
"Maybe I could just drink a little from two or three people, not enough to kill any one of them."
"Haven't you been listening at all to what the Professor and I have been talking about? Vampires secrete a chemical that slows down the heart and lungs. The chemical kills the people we bite even when their blood loss is minor."
House could see that Wilson wanted to continue the argument, if only to put off the inevitable moment when he would have to make his first kill. He was trying House's patience. The older vampire bared his teeth slightly in annoyance, and Wilson backed away cautiously.
House reminded himself how difficult it had been for him to take that first bite. The Professor of Esoteric Medicine, the vampire who had initiated House, had been at his side, urging him forward, but he had still hesitated. The last time he had bitten anyone he had been about four years old. A lifetime of inhibiting the urge to bite wasn't easily overcome. Only the certainty that the Professor would kill him if he let him down had finally pushed House into taking that first bite. He wasn't sure that he would have been able to kill without the fear of his own death as motivation. He didn't think that the first kill would be any easier for Wilson than it had been for him.
Sympathetic understanding wouldn't do Wilson any good, however, and besides House's hoard of that particular commodity was meagre. He took a step toward Wilson and looked into the eyes, holding his gaze until Wilson was forced to look away. House rewarded this sign of submission with a kiss on the cheek, with just the gentlest touch of sharp teeth as a warning not to try his patience again. He rubbed his face against Wilson's. Stubble met stubble.
"You've stopped shaving," he whispered into Wilson's ear. "I like you clean shaven."
"I kept nicking myself when I tried to use a razor without being able to see myself in a mirror. I gave up."
House imagined himself licking those tiny cuts.
A droplet of ice water making its way down his neck brought House out of his reverie and back to the business at hand.
"When I convinced the Professor to let you join us, I had to promise him I'd kill you myself if you couldn't handle it. I don't want to kill you, especially after all I did to keep you with me, but I will if I have to. You have to prove that you're strong enough to be a vampire."
House knew he would never be able to follow through on his threat. He couldn't kill Wilson; he needed him too much. He was worried that Wilson might see though his empty words, and was reassured when he saw that the other vampire took him seriously. Wilson had always underestimated how much he meant to House.
"You'll take the first person that walks by us alone. Just convince him to take a few steps towards you, into the shadows, and you'll have him. It shouldn't be difficult. Vampires can be very persuasive."
House pointed to a young man wearing an IPod, a perfect victim because he was absorbed in his music and heedless of any potential dangers. Unfortunately, a woman pushing a stroller followed close behind him, and the moment was lost. Next came a group of giggling teenagers, and then a retired couple a few minutes later.
The vampires were soaked to the skin by the time an unaccompanied person finally emerged from the store. Their potential victim was a middle-aged woman carrying two full shopping bags and a large purse. She was slightly overweight and had shoulder-length hair dyed an unconvincing blonde. As they watched, she put down one of the bags long enough to fish out her car keys from her coat pocket. She pressed the button to unlock her car door, and then picked up the bag again. House noted which car was hers - a mid-sized sedan with a dented rear bumper.
House pushed Wilson forward as the woman approached. The movement attracted the woman's attention. She glanced quickly toward Wilson, who was standing about fifteen feet away. Quickly determining that this mild-looking man didn't pose any immediate threat, she continued on her way.
"Excuse me," Wilson said, "I'm unfamiliar with this area and I'm lost. Can you tell me how to get back to the main road?"
Wilson took another few steps toward her. He looked slightly embarrassed at having to ask for help. The woman stopped to speak to him but still maintained a cautious distance.
"If you head down the road about a half mile, you'll come to a stop sign. Turn left and go about another quarter mile. There's a sign just before the turnoff, but it's easy to miss it in the dark. If you go over a bridge, you've gone too far."
"Thanks very much," Wilson said, smiling warmly at her.
She smiled back, looking directly into his dark brown eyes for the first time. At that instant, she was caught.
Wilson moved toward her slowly, careful not to startle her. He reached out and took the bags and the purse from her hand, placing them in a neat pile on the ground, never taking his eyes away from her. Wilson reached out and took her hands in his. Slowly, step by step, he led her towards the darkness. She followed him trustingly.
"I promise this will only hurt for a second," Wilson murmured, in the soft tones of a mother soothing her child, "and I won't leave you until it's over. I'll hold you in my arms, and you won't be afraid at all. It will be peaceful and painless and I'll remember you forever. You'll always be special to me."
Wilson had almost reached the shadows at the edge of the parking lot when the woman slipped on the icy surface of the parking lot. She looked down, trying to maintain her balance. As soon as she broke eye contact, Wilson's control over his intended victim vanished. The blonde woman turned to run away, but Wilson grabbed her. He had his hand over her mouth before she could scream. He dragged her the last few feet into the shadows.
The woman struggled against him, her arms and legs striking out desperately. She bit down hard on the hand that covered her mouth, but Wilson hardly noticed.
House resisted his impulse to intervene. Wilson's first kill had to be entirely his own.
Wilson finally pulled her down to the ground and restrained her flailing limbs. He tried to calm her, uttering meaningless phrases meant to reassure.
"Please, please," Wilson crooned. "Don't be afraid. I don't want this to hurt you any more than it has to. Please, don't make this any worse."
Wilson opened his mouth wide, exposing his fangs, and her struggles stopped for a second as she reacted with shock. Wilson bit her, intending to hit the jugular vein or the carotid artery, but she moved at the last second, and he missed his mark. She renewed her resistance, but Wilson was oblivious. He had tasted her blood, which suddenly seemed to be everything he had ever wanted in his life. He no longer cared about his victim's pain and distress; all her cared about was getting more, letting the blood fill him as nothing ever had before.
He bit down again and this time he hit the carotid. Blood spurted into his mouth, almost choking him. He gulped it down greedily. Wilson shut his eyes, blanking out everything except the taste of her blood and the feel of her warmth becoming his. His victim was not struggling any more, and he rocked her gently in his arms as he fed.
House put his hand on Wilson's shoulder and sat down beside him. Wilson released his bite, and his dying victim groaned. Blood burbled from the wound on her neck. Wilson smoothed her hair and kissed her gently on the forehead.
House shoved Wilson out of the way, claiming his right to a share of Wilson's kill. House was still full from the young man he had drained the previous night, so he drank no more than a mouthful of her blood. Wilson continued to hold the woman. He'd promised to stay with her until the end. He rested her head on his lap. With professional skill, he felt for a pulse and looked into her glassy eyes.
House got to his feet. He went to retrieve her shopping bags and her purse. Her bags were full of useless groceries, but there was money in her wallet. Only twenty five dollars, which would not even fill up the Professor's car or pay for a stay at another cheap motel. House cursed the credit card economy, which made vampires' lives so difficult.
"Here," he said, putting the money in Wilson's hand. "You can put this towards the purchase of a good electric shaver."
Wilson seemed hardly to notice him. House wanted to slap him to get his attention, but resisted the urge, remembering his intention of making Wilson's first time perfect.
"Her name was Anna," House said, looking at the driver's license he had found in her wallet.
"Who?" Wilson asked.
"This woman you've promised to remember always. Her name was Anna."
Wilson nodded.
"Her death was terrible but it was wonderful too," Wilson said. "She gave me her life. It was a gift from her to me."
"She didn't give you her life," House said. "You took it. You killed her."
House almost laughed. Wilson was so out of touch with his true nature as a vampire. He found his friend's insistence on sentimentalizing the harsher aspects of existence both amusing and irritating. He grabbed Wilson's hand and pulled him to his feet.
Wilson looked down at his first victim. Sleet and frozen rain covered her clothes. He leaned down to close her eyelids.
"Help me look for her car keys," House said. "We'll put her in the trunk of her car. With luck, we'll be long gone before she's found."
He took Anna's cellphone from her purse, and used it to call the Professor.
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House found the keys, half-buried in the slush. He looked around to see that they were not being observed and then picked Anna up and carried her to the trunk of her car.
"Get her bags and her purse," he instructed Wilson, but Wilson didn't appear to hear him.
The younger vampire seemed dazed by the experience of his first kill. He was scarcely able to stand on his own, and leaned against a parked car for support.
Cursing, House picked up Anna's things himself, and dumped them into the trunk on top of her. He slammed down the trunk. He strode over to Wilson and hit him hard enough to knock him to the ground.
"Get a hold of yourself," he said roughly. "The Professor will be here to pick us up in ten minutes. Do you want him to think you're weak?"
"Why should I care what the Professor thinks? He doesn't scare me. He's named after someone on Gilligan's Island, for God's sake."
House ignored Wilson's childish words and petulant tone and went to help him up. Wilson refused to take his hand, but he was too dizzy to get up on his own, so he sat in the slush waiting for his light-headedness to pass.
"Do you want me to have to hurt you? Is that what you want? So you can be punished for what you did to Anna?"
Wilson didn't answer, but House knew that he was right.
"You don't really feel any guilt," House said. "You just think that you should feel guilty. You're pretending to be human. You tell yourself you're still Dr. James Wilson, dedicated oncologist and all-around nice guy.
You're kidding yourself. You aren't a nice guy. You're a vampire. You knew when you decided to join me that killing was part of the deal."
"I didn't decide," Wilson protested. "You persuaded me! Vampires can persuade humans to do just about anything. Look at the way that I persuaded that poor woman to follow me to her death."
"So I'm the evil corruptor and you're the injured innocent. You can't really believe that! Even you can't be quite that deluded!"
There was a moment of silence as House waited for Wilson to respond. When he didn't, House took a step towards the other vampire. Wilson regarded him warily, anticipating another blow, but House didn't seem angry anymore.
"Do you regret your decision? Would you really rather be dead than be with me?"
To Wilson's surprise, House sounded genuinely hurt.
"Of course not," Wilson said quickly. Wilson hated to see House unhappy.
This time, when House held out his hand, Wilson took it and let House pull him to his feet. House gathered Wilson into his arms, and Wilson lifted his head, exposing himself to attack where he was most vulnerable. House opened his mouth wide and pressed his fangs against Wilson's neck, increasing the pressure gradually until he almost broke the skin. Wilson did not move or try to defend himself in any way, demonstrating to the other vampire just how much he loved and trusted him. After a moment, House let him go. He pressed his lips against Wilson's, and felt Wilson relax into his embrace.
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House sat in the back seat of the Professor's car with Wilson. Wilson leaned against House, eyes half-shut with post-prandial sleepiness. House nipped his earlobe, relishing the feel of the baby soft flesh between his teeth, and Wilson looked up at him.
"Am I still sweet?" he asked, unashamedly fishing for compliments.
"As delicious as ever," House replied, licking his ear, "your first kill hasn't changed you at all."
House had slighted the Professor by sitting in the back with Wilson, and he knew that the more powerful vampire would make him pay for his insubordination. However, having Wilson at his side, trustful and obedient and happy, was worth any punishment the Professor could devise.
The Professor turned around to berate his pupil. Seeing House and his servant together evoked vague and distant memories and feelings he didn't care to examine.
"Is your servant's blood really so good?" he asked.
"Wilson tastes like no one else. Everyone else is soy burger and he's filet mignon."
"Maybe I should get a taste then," the Professor said.
His words were said in a jocular tone, but House saw the malicious gleam in his eye and knew that the vampire was serious. He wanted House to share Wilson, but House wasn't willing to share. Wilson belonged to him and him alone. House bared his teeth, and the Professor smiled, showing his own fangs. He challenged House, staring directly into his eyes, daring the vampire he had initiated to make his move.
Wilson froze, sensing the sudden surge of aggression. Caught between two powerful and aggressive vampires was the last place anyone sensible would want to be.
After a long silence, House dropped his eyes. House got out of the back seat of the car and took his usual place up front next to the Professor. The Professor waited a moment for House to speak, and when he remained silent, he turned the key to the ignition.
Wilson sighed in relief, thankful that an open confrontation had been avoided.
"I will always remember my first kill as a vampire," the Professor said in his lecture voice. "He deserved to die because he had spoken ill of my son, and although my son was worthless, we shared the same name, so an insult to him reflected on me and on my honour. I could not forgive an insult to my honour any more than I could forgive the defiance of a natural inferior..."
No one could complain that the Professor was over-subtle. As he described the slow and painful death of the man who had failed to show him the proper respect, House nodded and tried to look repentant about his own small act of rebellion. He lowered his eyes to conceal the anger he felt.
The Professor seemed to be buying his humble act, but Wilson wasn't. He reached forward and touched House's shoulder, making him turn around.
`Be careful," Wilson mouthed silently.
House nodded and turned away. He fixed his gaze on the empty road in front of him and let his thoughts run free.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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