Chapter Text
A new suspected vampire has been spotted at Brooklyn College and around Bensonhurst area: Illusive spottings; day and night. Normal human coloration — ie. brown hair, blue eyes, stubble, average Caucasian skin tone — but visible fangs when teeth are shown. Likely level one. Track behavior and connections.
A subway speaker crackles over head and Abolish shoves his phone into his pocket before filing into the crowded subway, finding a seat in the back corner.
Interesting that a new vampire shows up around the college mid-semester, but there's always potential the poor guy is a more recent turn that was in the middle of getting a degree. Or they're an older turn that needs to keep transferring schools so no one notices that they aren't aging. It wouldn't be the first time.
Despite how common it is for New Turns — or fledglings as they used to be called — to uproot their life not long after they realize what they are, that doesn't mean the vampire in question knows how to handle it. Additionally, being new to the area usually means longer periods without a steady blood supply thanks to their lack of connections. Hunger sets in fast. And incidents quickly follow. Occasionally it's Abolish's job to help them make new connections before an incident happens.
Most of the time it isn't.
The organization trains people that dedicate their time solely to that delicate work. With a new vampire this docile sounding, it would usually be a cake walk for any of them. However, one detail of this mission briefing meant Abolish got assigned instead.
Bensonhurst: known, active, mafia territory.
With a non-zero chance this New Turn is actively getting recruited, Abolish needs to insure they steer away from that quick and dirty blood bank. And with such high surveillance in that area, his ability to go unnoticed is key.
The subway speaker crackles again — Eighteenth Avenue — and Abolish stops absentmindedly scanning the crowd in front of him, instead getting up and making his way towards the exit doors.
Subconsciously, he's been keeping an eye out for any familiar faces. It's force of habit at this point. Although he's never seen Scott, Shelby, or Drift in this part of town.
Maybe Abolish could still ask the trio if they've noticed any new turns recently. Shelby frequents a lot of the same libraries college students typically do, Drift tends to keep tabs on criminal activity as a force of habit, and brown-hair-light-eyes is exactly Scott's type—
Abolish's heart clenches.
He stops three steps away from the subway doors and whips his head around so fast he almost hurts his neck. He saw brown hair, blue eyes, and stubble so familiar he can still feel the scratch of it on his cheek after almost two hundred years. Or at least he thinks he did. He could have sworn… But it couldn't possibly be.
The subway doors slide closed.
Dammit. There's no way it was who Abolish thought it was, but that guy seemed to match the description of the new turn. He didn't get a good enough look to be sure of anything yet. But he does see the back of a head of brown hair with a black backpack.
Abolish shakes it off and moves along.
That couldn't be his target. It's six-fifteen in the morning and no Brooklyn college classes start until eight, so that person must be off to work or rushing home after spending the night somewhere. Besides, it's faster to get to the college by bus from here. So it really couldn't be anyone Abolish is looking for.
As he climbs the steps down to street level, Abolish can't help sliding his right hand into his jacket and clutching the fabric of his turtleneck that hides an intricate tattoo he got after one of his last visits to Oakhurst — a similar design to the one he etched on their headstone while Shelby wasn't looking. A wither rose, thorns and all, snaking its way up his ribs and blooming over his heart.
—
He can't focus.
As hard as Abolish tried all day, he couldn't make himself focus on the task at hand. Sure, he was able to scan the crowds and pick out people that fit the description of the new turn, but he caught himself dismissing them too quickly. He's realizing that it's because he wasn't looking for the new turn. He's been looking for someone long dead that should just be a faded memory.
It's unprofessional. It's unrealistic. It's unacceptable.
He has half the mind to request to be taken off the this assignment but, considering he's only turned down a handful of assignments in over two hundred years, people would assume something catastrophic happened and he isn't looking to cause a panic. And if the ache in his chest agrees that he can't let this go, then that's neither here nor there.
Despite not being at his best, Abolish sticks around the campus until the last of the night courses let out. He sees a few more people that vaguely fit the description. None of them vampires. Each one more disappointing than the last. And each time he kicks himself for being so sentimental.
If he can't give up on this assignment he can at least let himself give up for the night.
Before Abolish can make it more than a few steps under the campus library's overhang, he hears a familiar voice speaking to someone at one of the picnic tables he just passed. He stops. This is one of those times he's thankful for the enhanced hearing his half-turning gave him.
"Not tonight, man," a familiar voice — with an accent that is decidedly not from New York — says.
"C'mon, you're seriously gonna flake on getting drinks again?" Another masculine voice, this one with a strong long island accent, complains.
"I have work tonight, I can't."
"You have work every night! How are you even alive?"
"Haha, maybe I'm not," the first voice — that Abolish could swear belongs to— playfully suggests. "Maybe I'm actually a zombie that's really good at hiding the rotting flesh smell."
"Not that good," the second voice deadpans.
"Oi! I'll get you for that! I know where you sleep."
"Yeah, whatever, maybe if you were ever at the apartment I'd be scared. You're all bark and no bite," the long islander teases. "Get outta here already."
"I'm going, I'm going. See ya, man!"
"Later, Jack!"
At the sound of footsteps going in the opposite direction, Abolish finally springs to action. He spins on his heel and—
"Eep!" Soft pink hair, plaid ruffles, and books spill onto the ground.
Shelby.
"Oh sh-" Abolish cuts himself off and crouches down to help collect their things. How did he not notice someone was behind him? Even worse, he didn't notice Shelby was behind him. "Sorry Shelby, I didn't see you there. Are you okay?" He helps them to their feet as they giggle awkwardly.
"Yeahhh, I'm fine. It's my own fault for trying to sneak up on a vampire hunter," she says while she dusts off the back of her skirt and makes sure none of her papers are missing. "Should have known you'd catch me before I could poke you."
"Almost didn't," he admits and watches her eyes light up like he knew they would. She's always been fond of pulling pranks Abolish would classify as a mild nuisance at worst. Unfortunately, she's unintentionally being more than a nuisance without knowing it right now. He looks over her head and spots a figure jogging in the direction of the closest subway stairs. "I'm a little preoccupied—"
"Are you checking in on me again?" Shelby raises an eyebrow and cocks one hip, a mannerism they picked up from Scott. "You know, you don't have to sneak around all the time. You could just call."
"No, I'm not checking on you, I'm in the middle of—"
"Oh! Oh! Don't tell me, I can guess!" She purses her lips and looks over Abolish's outfit while making conspicuous 'hmm' sounds. "Are you… under cover to meet someone for a covert operation?"
"I'm always under cover," he sighs. "But, like always, I can't tell you what for. Now I really—"
"Okay, but if you were meeting someone—"
"Shelby!" Abolish takes them by the shoulders and stares them down. He feels a little more desperate than usual, but this is a time sensitive mission and he might have a lead. "I have to go."
She stares back with wide eyes and an exaggerated frown. "Sorry! Go ahead—"
Abolish starts rushing off in the direction of the subway station Py- his suspected target was heading towards.
"But you have to come to bowling with us again some time!" Shelby shouts after him. "I'll text you about it later! Bye buddy!"
He dodges through crowds, not running but walking at a brisk pace. Thankfully for Abolish, being halfway to a jog isn't abnormal behavior for New York — and people tend to mind their business in this city. So no one bats an eye when he jumps past half the subway stairs and skips every other step after he lands. At his pace he reaches the platform just in time to see the doors close and the subway take off—
The fastest way to Bensonhurst is the bus.
"Dammit!"
Abolish gets a quick glance or two from strangers, nothing more, but he doesn't need everyone's eyes on him to feel embarrassed. How could he forget and make a scene about it by yelling? And all because he can't keep his head screwed on straight. Or maybe it's because he can't get one fact through his thigh skull.
Pyro is dead.
Shelby killed him one hundred and ninety seven years, ten months, and eight days ago. There's no real evidence to support true resurrection, let alone after that long. There is also no proof someone can be reincarnated. Scott may have though he'd seen Avid's doppelganger in the fifties, but that was just his mind playing tricks after mourning someone for so long. No doubt that's whats happening to Abolish with Pyro.
Abolish just needs to find the new turn — and potential gang member — so he can prove to himself this is guy coincidentally just so happens to mildly resemble Pyro, or that he looks nothing like Pyro and Abolish is going through a mild case of psychosis. Then everything will be fine and he can move on.
—
It's been three days.
Three, twenty-four hour days of searching for this guy, day and night, and all Abolish has to show for it is a growing sense of dysphoria. He's supposed to report back and get a new mission tomorrow. At this rate, he'll have to ask for an extension because he's being haunted by the ghost of a dead man.
Abolish has caught glimpses of his face at least three times a day. He's heard his voice on one or two more occasions. On the subway. On campus. Multiple libraries. And he could have sworn he bumped directly into Pyro's shoulder, but lost him in the dinner rush on Eighteenth Avenue.
Maybe Pyro really does have a doppelganger.
Or more likely, this vampire that he's trying to track down knows someone is following them and they're actively making themself more illusive. It makes sense. Abolish has had the majority of his sightings around Bensonhurst. Anyone spending this much time in mafia territory needs to be especially careful they don't get on the wrong people's radars.
Besides, only catching brief glimpses makes it easier for the brain to fabricate things. Abolish's brain deciding to fabricate Pyro is what's really throwing him off his game.
Pyro always had throw him off, didn't they?
Abolish leans against a brick wall and sighs. He drags his nails over the tattooed skin under his button down. He almost wishes he didn't get the tattoo. Didn't keep the rose, dried upside down and hung on his wall. Didn't let the scratch on his cheek turn into a scar. Maybe then he wouldn't have so many things reminding him of a face he should have forgotten a long time ago.
He just wants to do his job and move on. So he'd better get back to doing his job.
Abolish pushes off the wall and shoves his hands back in the pockets of his faux-fur-lined bomber jacket. He scans the area as he walks, taking note of the people. No one fits the right description. Or at least he doesn't think they do. He might have night vision, but that doesn't mean colors are particularly vibrant at night either way. So he mostly keeps an eye out for the right mannerisms, and looks closer where he can — like around streetlights and in the ambient glow of restaurants.
Abolish makes sure he stops to read a few display menus the restaurants have out so he looks more like a picky eater and less like a spy from a rival gang. As frustrated as he is, he can't let himself slack in regards to his safety. Shelby reminded him of that. As a thank you he'll probably go to bowling night after this is all over. He barely registers that the restaurant he's currently inspecting the menu of is a twenty-four hour diner.
His stomach growls.
One in the morning is the only good time for diner food, in his humble opinion, and he's been out all day without any real breaks. Someone leaves with a 'thanks' thrown over their shoulder and Abolish's stomach growls again when the smells waft his way.
The good thing about being the anomalous half-vampire thing that he is, is that Abolish can still taste human food, even if it isn't as effective at fueling him.
Abolish shakes his head and sighs. He really can't afford to waste time like that. He can grab a 'Vampire Capri-Sun' — as Drift has taken to calling them — from his bag and get more bang for his buck.
Abolish gives the diner one last cursory glance, making note of the patrons and staff.
His stomach lurches.
Standing at one of the tables — serving waters to a table of people and taking a notebook out of his pocket — is a tall, brown haired, blue eyed, white boy with a five o'clock shadow, slightly pointier ears than normal, and a smirk that indents his bottom lip just a little more than typical human canines do.
Abolish would recognize that smirk anywhere. That strong jawline. Those expressive eyebrows. That sharp nose. Those playfully cutting eyes. And, when he opens the door to the diner, that voice that's frequented his dreams greeting him as warmly as ever.
"Take a seat wherever you like, and I'll be with you in a minute!" that familiar voice announces over the mild chatter of the one-a.m. crowd while he scribbles something on his notepad.
Abolish hardly registers that he's moving until his hand is around Pyro's upper arm and he's standing closer to him than he probably should. His usual poker face is no doubt cracking, displaying some mix of desperation and resentment that's been festering since that faithful day at Truffle's grave.
"Hey! Do you mind-" Pyro cuts himself off when he finally looks up from his notepad. His pen clatters against the linoleum floor. "…Abolish?"
He isn't crazy. He isn't seeing things. This is the real, live, or as alive as any vampire can be—
"Pyro."