Disclaimer: This story is intended for entertainment purposes only and provides absolutely no financial compensation. Recognizable characters belong to their prospective owners/writers. Some lines from the show are might have been used either as is or altered to fit the story.
In plain speak: I don’t own anything, just my imagination.
Thanks to the awesome sabaceanbabe for the beta.
A/N: I’m going with the premise that Homer turned Jesse, which is why he calls Homer ‘Old Man’. Drusilla/Homer
“I’m goin’ out.”
Eyes gleaming in the lamplight, Jesse looked up from the woman on the bed and asked, “You want me to come with ya?”
Homer examined his newly turned protector. The man had been nearly dead when he’d pulled him up the riverbank in ‘65. The fire from the CSS Muscogee had been brighter than the moonlight and Homer went from wanting a quick meal to picking this man as his new companion. It had taken a few days to convince the Confederate that the war was lost and he couldn’t fight anymore even if he wanted to. One of Jesse’s favorite meals was a carpetbagger straight off the train.
He shook his head no and snorted. “Like I could lure some dummy wit’ you loomin’ ovah me.” He pointed at Jesse. “Ya get yerself cleaned up and that meat cleared before ya bed down. It’ll start stinkin by the afternoon, iffen you don’t.”
Jesse grinned at him and started on the other side of the woman’s neck, his hand securely over her mouth to prevent any noise. Homer shook his head and shut the door tightly behind him. Things had been a sight easier since he’d turned Jesse, but he wondered if the man would calm down enough to actually lead a family. The decision would be out of his hands soon though. He’d noticed Jesse eyeing one of the gunslingers hanging out in the dance hall. Jesse said the wild cowboy reminded him of his dead brother and had challenged the man to more than a few poker games lately.
Homer’s footsteps were nearly silent as he trolled the darkened streets. He’d seen a few prospects, but street whores were a last resort. Being clean really didn’t matter all that much, but most of them had some kind of disease. The sickness wouldn’t hurt him, but it always made the blood taste off.
He was about to turn around when a woman’s voice drew his attention. She was humming a song and the tune seemed familiar, like it might have been something his momma would have sung to him so long ago. It was getting harder and harder for him to remember his human life, not that he really wanted to. He’d been smack in the middle of a dozen children in a family that never had enough to eat. Despite that, he still missed his momma’s voice. The woman continued to hum and he wondered if her screams would sound like his momma’s, too.
He peeked around the corner and saw her, spinning across the grass, her dark dress whirling out from her legs in an indecent manner. He could see her calves, the skin smooth and white, and Homer licked his suddenly dry lips. He knew his turning at such a young age had been a no-win situation. His family had been mostly sick and definitely starving, too far from any large township for passable help. His sire had been desperate for a companion, a child to be specific, and when Homer allowed himself to think about it, he almost wished he had starved that winter.
A mature mind in a child’s body was torture. His sire had learned that lesson the hard way a few years into their acquaintance.
Homer stumbled around the corner, slipping into his lost child act easily, rubbing his hands anxiously as if to ward off the chill of the night. He widened his eyes as she spun to face him, her delicate hand flying up to cover her mouth as if startled. Her eyes were icy blue, like the moon breaking over the mountains of home and then she smiled. His heart pounded hard at the thought that came to him.
She was a keeper.
He knew Jesse would like her for sure. She was probably too fine for the both of them, but Homer knew he couldn’t just feed on her and leave her dead. She clapped her hands and giggled before waving at him and he felt a second of apprehension. That wasn’t the usual response.
“Hallo, sweeting! What mummy lets such a pretty boy out on his own?” She looked around, but no one was near the commons, no one he could see or sense, in any case. Homer liked the sound of her voice, strangely musical and surely foreign to this area. She stepped closer, her hand held out as she smiled sweetly at him.
This was going to be an easy one.
“Are you hungry, dear? Cold? Where’s your mummy?”
Homer looked up at her, offering the trembling smile that never failed to lure in his prey. Her grin grew wicked, much like the ladies that sold themselves for a coin and then he met her eyes and couldn’t look away. Viciously sharp nails dug into his skin as the ice blue of her eyes bled into molten gold. Her gaze tore through him and it was worse than fifty years trapped in a child’s body. Worse because in the blink of an eye, he’d been captured by something stronger than him. And that terrified him beyond reason. His sire had never told him there were more dangerous things in the world.
“Look in my eyes… Be in me… See it, Old Man…”
Homer felt thrown out of his body, across the stars and when he could open his eyes again, he was blinded by pure golden sunshine. It was everywhere and smoke poured from his body as he frantically looked around for shelter.
He whimpered in despair at the barren flatland that stretched as far as he could see. Not even a scraggly tree in sight, just a stretch of road and the sun and Homer started to run as he felt the increasing heat boil his blood. He knew death by sunlight would be painful, but he’d never imagined how painful. He stumbled, unable to run any farther and leaned over his knees, terrified screams ripping at his throat.
Dru skipped off, giggling as the sound of Homer’s whimpers drifted on the night air. She met Spike across the commons where he’d promised to wait. He wrapped his arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck, chuckling darkly.
“That was right mean, luv. Poor little bloke has challenge ‘nough with walkin’ ‘bout in such a small package. Why’d ye ha’ to go and give a terror for?”
Dru kissed her Knight and then stretched to whisper in his ear, “Showed him his future, I did. And he’ll be ready when the time comes. Children shouldn’t be dead things, my Spike.”
More than a century later, as he crouched on that desolate Oklahoma road, Homer remembered that night so long ago and he screamed as the fire engulfed his body.END
REF: http://www.history.navy.mil/photos/sh-us-cs/csa-sh/csash-mr/muscogee.htm for the CSS Muscogee, an ironclad ram screw steamer, was built at Columbus, Georgia, beginning in late 1862. She was launched in December 1864, but was not completed. In April 1865, Muscogee (or Jackson, as she was also called) was burned on the Chattahoochee River by Union Army forces. Her remains were recovered during the 1960s and placed on exhibit at Columbus. ++ This is the ship Jesse Hooker was assigned to when he nearly died before Homer turned him.