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Crossing Bridges	By : kakatin Category: A through F > The Dresden Files Views: 4841 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Dresden Files, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Crossing Bridges
- 1
Hey, everyone! So this is a first for me. I’ve been a lurker in many fandoms (including Heroes (woo Mylar!), Stargate SG-1 (woo Jack/Daniel!), Yu Yu Hakusho, Gundam Wing, Ranma ½, Rurouni Kenshin, Shojo Kakumei Utena, and even some Sailor Moon if that isn’t dating myself too much!) for YEARS, but I FINALLY decided to get my act together and post something. I’d love to hear what you guys have to say, so concrit is appreciated, craved, begged for! =) No one beta-ed this, but if you’d like the job in the future, let me know!

Disclaimers: Don’t own. Don’t sue!

Warnings: This is basically a Dresden Files (book series) PWP. If you have a problem with two guys getting it on, hit your back button, pronto! SPOILERS ALERT! Basically you need to have read through book 6 and further would be better. Also, yes, there’s incest. Well, half-incest. I neither condone, encourage, or endorse incest in RL. This fic is FICTION and meant to stay that way. Angst. Blood. And bleeding. Nothing too graphic, but you’ve been warned.

There. If I missed something, let me know!
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Crossing Bridges

“Thomas!” Harry screamed as the blast hit the vampire square in the chest. He ran to catch his half-brother, but only managed to run into him when he hit the ground. Harry ran large, panicked hands over the limp body before him. Blood. Pinkish, garish blood covered Thomas’ torso; his face and dark hair were slick with the stuff.

On his knees, Harry retrieved his blasting rod from his pocket and took aim at the demoness. He squinted in the semi-darkness. She was doing her focus thing again, her hands in front of her, gathering power for another blow. Not this time, he thought, still crouching protectively over Thomas’ prone body.

The wind from her power whipped about him as he loosed his magic. “Fuego,” he snarled, and it exploded from his blasting rod. A gout of flame erupted into the space between them. It incinerated her in an instant, not even giving her a chance to scream as she was turned to dust.
The whirling wind stopped. Everything stopped.
Harry shoved his rod into his duster and drew Thomas into his arms. “C’mon, Thomas,” he muttered into the sticky hair as he rose to his feet, “You can’t die from this. That was a welter-weight fight, tops.”
Staggering only a little under his half-brother’s weight, Harry made his way to the Beetle waiting faithfully at the end of the dark alley.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Back at his place, Harry lowered the injured Thomas onto his couch. Simple expediency made Harry use hastily-retrieved scissors to cut away Thomas’ blood-soaked clothes. The vampire groaned a little when Harry got to his once-gray trousers. They came off, too, and Harry grit his teeth at the damage.

Cuts. Scars. Bruises. Scrapes. They covered Thomas’ body like a grotesque finger painting. Wait, scars? Harry traced them lightly, brow furrowed. Thomas can heal from anything, given enough time. What gives? Scars could only mean one thing. Thomas couldn’t heal which meant Thomas wasn’t feeding, and he hadn’t been for a while now.
“What did you do now, dolt?” Harry whispered. Thomas’ gray eyes remained closed, his jaw slack. If Thomas wasn’t feeding, then his body’s reserves were drained lower each time he used his power and they weren’t being replenished. Every time he’d fought, every time he’d bench-pressed another enemy, every time he’d rescued Harry, he’d slowly been draining himself.
Harry rose and went to the kitchen, gathering a pot of water, which he warmed with a thought, rather than wait it out, a clean rag, and a dry towel. He returned to the couch and began the slow process of washing Thomas clean.
His eyes darkened with concern. Thomas wasn’t feeding. The real question, though, was why? Thomas had been doing well, really well. He had the salon, plenty of clients, his own place, his own freaking Hummer for Christ’s sake! Why on earth would he stop feeding now? Why make himself so vulnerable? Strike that, why make those around him so vulnerable? He had said over and over how hard it was to control the Hunger, how hard it was to be sure everyone else was safe. Thomas wanted to protect others from himself more than anything.

Harry wrung the bloody rag out again and carefully dabbed at a large cut on Thomas’ slim hip. It was angry and red, infected. The thought was mind-boggling, only increasing the slowly rising panic in Harry’s chest.

He tried not to get worked up about things; he really tried. But this was Thomas. His only brother. His only family. The man who had saved his life more times than he could count. The man who was there for him when the rest of the world told him to fuck off and die. The man who had just thrown himself into harm’s way again for Harry’s sake. He couldn’t die, not now.
“Please,” Harry whispered, hardly noticing as he did. The dried pink blood came away from the cut and it oozed again, pus and blood welling sluggishly. He prodded it gently, and more blood flowed out, a little cleaner-looking, this time. He prodded harder, and fresh blood came out. Thomas groaned, then, a thready, pained sound.
Harry continued washing his body, avoiding certain personal bits as he went. Beneath the blood and grime, Thomas was a mess. He needed to heal. More to the point, he needed to feed. Deeply.

Thomas groaned again and he shifted. Harry sat back a bit as gray eyes cracked open to look at him, blearily. Almost instantly, they were wide and staring and so, so silver.

“Thomas?!” Harry yelped, knowing what that meant. He dropped the bowl and rags. He was dead. So dead.

Silver burned to white and Thomas leaned toward where Harry knelt beside the couch. Hunger, deep, throbbing hunger twisted the beautiful face into something sharper, more deadly. Like the proverbial moth and flame, Harry could not look away, even as certain death closed in. Harry fell backward onto his hands, his knees still tucked up beneath him. “Thomas! Thomas, wake up! Please! It’s Harry!”
Lean lips tautened into a sickening smile. “Harry,” Thomas’ voice caressed the name. His approach didn’t slow in the slightest.
Harry nodded frantically, “That’s right, Thomas. Harry. You’re at my place.” The vampire loomed closer. “You’re hurt! You need to feed. I know that. We’ll get you help. You have to hold on, Thomas. If you kill me, I can’t help you.” He scrambled backward, crab-crawling until his back hit the wall only a few feet away.

Harry’s mind raced as the vampire rose shakily to his feet. Blood oozed down Thomas’ too-pale skin, running in pinkish rivulets to the floor. He stalked closer, twisted smile still firmly in place, eyes glowing white. Harry could see his duster where he’d left it draped over the back of the couch behind Thomas. Dammit. His blasting rod was still in the pocket.

“Please, Thomas,” he pleaded, his brother only a foot away now, staring down at him with those piercing eyes. Even nude and injured, Thomas was terrifying. Somehow, he was perhaps more so. The lack of clothes left no doubt: Thomas was a predator. Nothing human could move with such lithe grace. Corded muscles shifted beneath his skin, his damaged abdomen displaying the six-pack he never had to work for. An elegant hand reached for Harry and the wizard gasped, pressing even closer to the wall. The vampire cocked his head, as if listening to something only he could hear. The smile fell from his lips and he vaguely shook his head.

Harry felt a thrum of hope surge through him. Maybe Thomas was still in there! Maybe he could still hear him! “Please, Thomas! You have to get control!” The dark head shook again, stronger this time, and he let out a little moan.
“Fight, Thomas! You can do this!” Harry held his breath as Thomas frowned, shaking his head, one hand coming up to his temple. “I’m right here, man. Don’t give up.”
A heartbeat. Two. The hellish light faded from Thomas’ eyes. As soon as it did, they rolled back into his head and he collapsed, saved at the last moment from a concussion or worse by Harry’s hasty catch. He sat panting on the floor, his brother’s limp body weighing him down.
Everything was silent, then—
“Harry?”
Harry looked down at where Thomas’ face was buried in his chest. The dark hair was still caked in blood (Harry hadn’t gotten that far, yet), but it shifted a little as Thomas struggled to move. “Harry?” The question had a little more force this time, although Harry could tell the man was exhausted.
“I’m okay. You did it,” he murmured, tired, himself.
“Thank, God,” Thomas replied into his chest.
“You wanna get up, now?”
“I can’t.” His voice was small and lost-sounding. Defeated.
Harry surveyed the lean body on top of his own. “C’mon, I’ll help you.” He managed to get to his feet and half-pulled, half-carried Thomas back to the couch.

Once he had gotten his brother more or less sorted, pulling a blanket over his lap for modesty’s sake, Harry sat beside him, leaned back his head, and closed his eyes for a moment. That had been close—a lot closer than he cared to admit at the moment.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”
Harry opened his eyes to look at Thomas where he sat, staring at his hands. “You don’t have to apologize. You’ve got it, now. You’ll be fine. I knew you wouldn’t do it,” he replied, smiling a little as he stretched the truth a smidge.
“I wanted to.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did, Harry.”
“No, the Hunger wanted to. You didn’t.” He sat up and turned to face Thomas. Thomas who was still bleeding onto his couch. Thomas who wouldn’t look at him. “Speaking of which, why haven’t you been feeding?” he asked softly. Harry blinked in bewilderment as Thomas’ face crumpled, and a choked sob escaped his body.
The blood-caked hair cloaked his face as Thomas leaned forward, his arms circling his bleeding stomach. His muscles were taut, the tendons in his hands standing out. He curled in on himself as the flood gates seemed to open and he cried and cried.

Harry stared at him for a moment, unsure what caused the tears. Who knew what was going through his brother’s head? Then his dark eyes softened, and he reached out a warm hand to rest on a shaking shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Thomas snarled. Harry’s hand snapped back as if he’d been burned. He stared at Thomas.
“Okay, wanna tell me what I can do?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The vampire raised his head, and Harry couldn’t miss the gleam of silver in his eyes above his tear-streaked cheeks.
“Thomas…”
“I’m—I’m so hungry, Harry.” Elegant hands clenched into fists, and Thomas began to rock slightly, sniffling. “I’m so hungry, and you…smell so…” He shook his head as his eyes were lanced with silver again before returning to their normal gray. Thomas stared at his lap again.
“I know. We’re gonna figure this out.” Not freaking out. Not freaking out. Harry looked around his apartment for a clue about what to do.
“Nothing to figure out.”
“How’s that?”
“I need to feed.”
“I know.”
“I need to.”
“I know, Thomas.”
“But I won’t.” The last was almost a growl of defiance. Harry shook his head.
“You have to. You’ll die. You know that.”
“No.”
“Thomas—“
“No.”
Harry sighed. “This is no time for you to get noble about it. I don’t like it any more than you do, but sometimes you have to do what’s necessary. To survive.”
The vampire only rocked harder, his gaze riveted on his lap as he shuddered. Harry watched him apprehensively. Thomas had given him a demonstration, once, to help him understand what the Hunger was like. He’d challenged Harry to a footrace, and afterwards, when Harry was parched and thirsty, had allowed him only one sip of water before knocking the rest to the ground, leaving him burning with thirst. Harry had tried to imagine what it would be like to live with that thirst every day, every moment. He had tried, but he knew he had only glimpsed what it must be like.

Right now Thomas was dying of that thirst. Literally. Harry watched as he fought off another wave of Hunger with a grunt, his body shuddering with want as he denied himself what he so obviously needed. The vampire curled into himself a little more, leaning away from Harry. A light bulb went off in Harry’s head and he wondered again how he’d managed to survive this long.

Holy crap. No wonder Thomas had snapped at him. Harry was like a giant glass of cool, refreshing ice water with one of those little umbrellas to Thomas. Touching him had only made it harder for Thomas to resist killing him and slacking that horrible thirst. Stars and stones, I’m an idiot. Have a little compassion, Harry. The man could solve all of his problems right now by having a Harry-tini, but he’s trying to save your stupid life!

Thomas shuddered. “Harry,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“What?”
“You—You have to go. I…I can’t stop it anymore.” He sounded exhausted.
“Tell me how to help you. You need to feed, I get it. Does it have to be a person?”
Thomas nodded his head. Great, so animals were out.
“Can it be anyone? I mean, does it need to be—“
“You can’t fix this. Just go.”
“No, I’m going to help you, damn it, but you have to give me something to go on!” Harry leaned forward, almost touching the shuddering vampire.
“Harry—“
“No,” he cut him off with an angry slash of his hand through the air. “You don’t get to play the martyr on this one.”
“I’m not!” Thomas roared, his head whipping up to pierce Harry with gleaming white eyes. “I don’t want to kill you, damn it! I can’t control this. Look at me,” he gestured helplessly. “I’m not a saint! I’m not anything! I never claimed to be good. I’m not like you!” He fought off another wave of Hunger before continuing softly. “I’m so hungry, Harry. It hurts. It hurts so bad I can’t think straight. All I want in the whole world is sitting right next to me, but you’re my brother. I don’t want to hurt you, I swear I don’t, but if you don’t leave now, this thing will beat me and I’ll kill you.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply.

“I’ll kill you, Harry. I’ll lose control and I’ll kill you.” He dropped his gaze. “I’ve done it before, you know that. Please. I—“ His white eyes widened in response to something Harry couldn’t see or hear. “Go.”

“You know I’m not going to.”

“Harry, please.”

“And you know as well as I do what has to happen.”

Thomas’ wide eyes shone brighter even as he shook his head.
“Go ahead.” Harry scooted close to Thomas. He could feel his half-brother’s thigh tremble beneath the blanket through his tucked-up leg. “It’s okay. Really.”

“No, please,” Thomas pleaded, but his hands rose slowly from his lap to cup Harry’s face. He shifted on the couch to face Harry, and the blanket fell away from his body to pool indecently low on his twisted hips.

“It’s okay,” Harry whispered, thinking all the while that this was not okay. Not even close. Was he really going to let this happen? Thomas was his brother… Then again, he thought as the vampire leaned in, that’s exactly why I will.

Lips met lips and Thomas gave in. Harry could feel it. The lithe body was on top of him, then, pressing him back onto the couch, mouth devouring him. Inhumanly strong, elegant hands yanked off his black t-shirt, and suddenly they were chest-to-chest.

Silver-white eyes burned into dark ones, and Harry was caught. He had experienced the lust wammy before from one Lara Raith, but he had never been fully ensnared in it. He’d always been able to recognize it, to fight it to some degree. He’d thought it would be easier to fight it coming from Thomas. It wasn’t as if he was into guys, after all. Apparently, that didn’t matter when the vampire in question was starving and amped up the mojo to full blast.

Thomas’ mouth burned a slick trail across his jaw and down his throat and Harry could feel himself responding. His body arched into Thomas’ roving touch, almost before he even realized it.

“Thomas…”

The vampire’s mouth reached his chest and latched onto a nipple, nipping and biting it. God, it hurt so good. Harry opened his mouth to tell him so, but Thomas surged up in a flash to claim him again. A delicious tongue delved in to meet his own, and Harry groaned, feeling his lucidity erode bit by bit. Warm hands trailed over his chest, smoothing through the hair there, scratching lightly at his abused nipples. His own finally got into the game, coming up to clutch at Thomas’ biceps and roam across his lean back. His hips rose of their own volition to grind into those above him.

Thomas moaned deeply, and Harry felt himself grow light-headed with satisfaction and desire. He did it again, and smiled into the heated kiss as slim hips ground down into his. Harry could feel the muscles in Thomas’ back ripple and glide with masculine control as he took what he needed.

Already the pale skin seemed a bit less-so and the smallest of the injuries had faded to almost nothing. Thomas’ Hunger had begun to slowly draw Harry’s life away; he could feel it. Still, the deeper cuts, bruises, and scars remained as serious and ugly as before.

Harry would have taken comfort from the progress, had he been able to think straight. However, at that moment, one of Thomas’ hands had found the rock hard ridge in his jeans, and was doing its best to drive him insane. The palm rubbed firmly up the ridge repeatedly, before strong fingers traced its outline with a teasing, pinching motion.

Thomas finally let him up for air, and Harry gasped. He stared into those white eyes in wonderment. The vampire smiled at the wizard and used the arm that was holding him up to push himself down the tall body beneath him. He sat back on his heels and took in the sight before him. Harry’s eyes were burning with want, his breath coming in gasps, his hands lightly skimming any part of Thomas he could reach. Thomas knew when he had his victim trapped, and Harry’s case was hopeless. And the man wasn’t even out of his pants, yet.

Thomas’ eyes dimmed a moment, and he frowned. He needed to slow things down a bit, give something back, or he’d never forgive himself. He could still feel the Hunger burn within him, but he forced it back.

“You’re so amazing, Harry,” the vampire murmured as he began to unbutton Harry’s jeans. The taller man hissed through his teeth when the zipper slowly opened over his arousal. “You really don’t give yourself enough credit,” Thomas continued, sliding the denim down long legs. “Beautiful,” he whispered before kissing a trembling thigh. He pulled off Harry’s cowboy boots and finally removed the jeans, tossing them to the floor.

Harry’s fingers trailed lazy patterns over his stomach as he watched, drunk with lust. Whatever chemical or spell or combination thereof the White Court used was doing the trick, and he felt wonderful. Thomas was the whole world. Thomas could do whatever he wanted, take what he wanted, and Harry would be only more than happy to give him anything, everything. The slow drain on his energy began to throb more strongly, the pull increasing. It made him alternately flushed and cold, but he knew it was all for the better. He grinned and Thomas took his place between his long legs. Harry spread them further, dropping one over the edge of the couch entirely, to give Thomas ample room.

“I know you’re only doing this out of some sense of duty on your part, but I want to make this as good as I can for you,” Thomas said, running a finger along the top of Harry’s blue boxers. He smiled sadly into Harry’s dark eyes and pulled the waistband down, exposing him to the air.

The boxers were discarded and the wizard sucked in a breath as Thomas knelt and drew him into his hungry mouth. Wet, perfect heat surrounded him. Harry melted with pleasure and writhed, his hands automatically resting in Thomas’ filthy hair. He loved this, he loved this so much.

Thomas bobbed his head, swirling his tongue, sucking as he drew back. He eased down and swallowed to the hilt only to pull away and repeat the delicious motion again and again. Strong hands gripped his hair and he smiled around Harry’s cock. Slowly, achingly so, he pushed Harry closer and closer to the edge. He picked up speed and played with the heavy balls between Harry’s spread legs and the taller man began to groan in earnest. Thomas lifted a hand to Harry’s open mouth and Harry caught on instantly, licking and sucking the proffered fingers enthusiastically.

The vampire used those fingers to probe gently between the spread thighs beneath him, drawing his mouth up to the tip of Harry’s cock to lick at the pre-cum seeping from the slit as he did so. Harry’s hips lifted as he tried to thrust, but that only allowed Thomas the access he needed.

A slim finger pressed his prostate and Harry gasped. “Thomas…Oh, God.”

Thomas let the hard cock slip from his mouth as he watched Harry writhe on the couch. He added a second finger, stretching his hole. He stared at the effect and grazed Harry’s prostate again before scissoring to stretch the entrance wider. The wizard only pressed his hips down more, stretching himself further and breathing heavily.
As much as Thomas would have liked to pretend otherwise, Harry was completely his, now, thanks to his damnable powers of persuasion. He could feel the wizard’s energy pulsing faster into his soul, still not nearly enough to slake his thirst.

“God. Oh—Thomas. Please. Just…” Harry was beyond coherence, but he thrust his hips aggressively, grinding onto the fingers in his ass.

“Please.” He drew his knees up and let his thighs fall as open as he could on the couch, his hands trailing lightly over his hard cock, dark eyes tightly shut.

Thomas withdrew his fingers and spit on his palm, rubbing himself as he spread the lubrication as best he could. This was going to hurt, there was nothing he could do about that. He positioned himself at Harry’s entrance and felt the wizard’s tight asshole clenching and flexing hungrily. He leaned over the taller man and stared at his clenched eyes.

“Harry.”

The eyes clenched tighter.

“Harry, look at me.”

Dark eyes opened and stared into piercing white. Thomas kissed him and Harry writhed.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want any of this. I know you can’t understand right now, but I have to tell you.” He ground his cock into the cleft of Harry’s ass and listened to his half-brother moan his name. “I’ll try to keep control. I really will. Know that.” He ground down again, slowly this time, circling his hips. Harry’s hand gripped his cock and began thrusting. “I understand what’s going to happen when this is over if you survive, and I know I’ll deserve it.” Harry toyed distractingly with one of his nipples, the other on his own arousal, stroking firmly.

“Thomas…” he pleaded.

“I’m so sorry,” the vampire breathed as he pressed his cock into Harry, lowering his mouth to claim his lips.

The taller man’s groan of pleasure-pain was swallowed by the talented tongue that fucked his mouth. Soon after, the motion was mirrored in his brother’s hips as Thomas began to move.
Harry wrapped long legs around Thomas’ waist and pulled more urgently on his cock. “Thomas,” he gasped into the hot mouth. “Yes.”

Thomas moaned deeply and thrust faster. His clever tongue twisted and tasted, pulling more pleasure from Harry, stealing more energy as his own.

“Yes, harder. Ngh—harder.”

The vampire complied, getting further leverage and angling his hips. His lips hovered just above Harry’s now. Both men panted as Harry urged him on with another groan.

“Ah—deeper. Deeper, deeper, deeper.” The words tumbled endlessly from Harry’s lips and Thomas grabbed one of the long legs from his waist. He pulled it up to his shoulder and thrust harder, burying himself to the hilt. He smiled and kissed Harry as the taller man arched into each thrust, meeting him at each and groaning.

“Harry—“

“Fuck me, Thomas,” he breathed.

“Harry—“ He thrust faster.

“Yes. More. Fuck me.” The wizard’s hand pulled harshly at his own cock.

“Harry, ah, empty night I—“

“Fuck me!”

“Ahn—“ Thomas caught Harry’s abused lips in a crushing kiss as he thrust as hard as he dared, screwing his cock as deep as he could, pounding into Harry’s prostate.

Dark eyes stared blankly into his as Harry’s muscles seized. He groaned into Thomas’ mouth as he dug his heels in and thrust off the couch, coming spectacularly all over his clenching fist and their mashed stomachs.

Thomas’ whole body shone as the energy from Harry’s orgasm ripped through him, finally reaching all the deep empty spaces that made him so hungry and aching. He spread Harry’s long legs as wide as he could and thrust once more into the tight heat before coming with his brother’s name on his lips. Semen spilled deep, claiming him. Their combined energies poured into Thomas, finally filling him to satisfaction, not just taking the edge off as his ‘sips’ had so many times before. The demon within him drank deeply from Harry as he came down from his orgasm, trembling and clenching with aftershocks. Each pulse pulled more, and Harry floated, light-headed.

Thomas’ eyes snapped open. This was the most dangerous part. He had to stop. He looked down into Harry’s vacant gaze; the dark eyes were glazed with pleasure and Thomas could feel more and more of the deep well of Harry’s energy enter him with each throb of his body. The orgasm had left him limp and defenseless, and Thomas’ Hunger took as much as it could, draining more and more life away. The taller man would be dead soon. Thomas had to stop. He wrenched himself to reality, fighting the seductive whisper to just let go, to let it happen.
“Harry,” Thomas breathed, pulling out and ignoring the languid arch of the body below him at the loss. He clenched his eyes shut, willing the connection to break, the drain to stop. “Harry.” The lean legs relaxed and the hips stopped writhing. “Harry, wake up. Please.” Finally, the wizard stilled.
Thomas waited silently, poised above Harry, afraid to look.
“Thomas?” The question was soft, confused, nothing like the Harry Thomas knew. He opened gray eyes to stare at his brother. He was alive.
“Are you okay?”
“What happened?”
Thomas glanced away. He leaned back and sat on the couch, unsure what he could possibly say.
“Did…did we…?”
The vampire nodded and dropped his gray gaze to stare at his lap as he had before. He pulled the discarded blanket back over his hips after a moment.
Harry slowly sat up and held a hand to his head, surveying the damage. His clothes were everywhere, except his socks, somehow, which were still on his feet. He ached all over, especially in places that told him exactly what must have happened. He lowered his hand to his lap, only to realize just how naked he was. He snatched a ratty throw pillow from the La-Z-Boy and covered himself, nervously.
Well this was decidedly…awkward. He blinked as he tried to remember any of what obviously had just happened, but, after the initial kiss, it was all a hazy blur. He looked at Thomas.
The vampire had improved dramatically. His skin was flushed to a normal shade of healthy pink, all of his wounds were gone. Only a few faint scars remained on his torso, and they continued to fade, even as Harry watched. His brother looked…alive. Harry felt relieved. And tired. Hell’s bells, he was exhausted.
“Thomas.”
His brother’s head snapped up, clearly breaking whatever reverie of guilt and self-recrimination he had fallen into. Gray eyes stared at him and Harry smiled a little.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He placed a careful hand on Thomas’ now-healthy shoulder. “We’re okay.”
“I don’t—“
“No,” Harry said firmly and Thomas shut up. “You don’t get to feel bad. You don’t get to punish yourself. You don’t get to be a martyr. None of that. You survived it. I helped. End of story.”
“But—“
“End of story.”
Thomas seemed to search for something to say before settling on a simple “Thank you. You saved my life.”
Harry smiled. “You’re welcome.” He sat up a little straighter. “No more of this I-can’t-possibly-feed-at-all-since-I’m-a-big-bad-vampire-and-need-to-be-punished-for-it bullshit. Okay?”
Thomas nodded. “Okay.”
“Good.” Harry nudged him a bit. “Besides, only one of us can be dramatically, life-threateningly injured at a time, and you just had your turn. You have to give me a chance to fuck up royally.”
The vampire smiled a small, genuine smile. “Deal.”
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Crossing Bridges