Bite Me. || TSP || Stannarator || Vampire AU

Narry was walking down the street, his walking stick accompanying him, helping him walk properly after an incident while hunting. People waved at him as he walked and he smiled back gently, tipping his hat at a few ladies his age.

He turned down an alley to take a shortcut, being met with a man laying on the ground, injured. He walked down, kneeling down beside him, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. The man had short hair and wore ragged clothing. 

He had a bite mark on his neck that alerted Narry - he had to help him before it was too late. 

As he was about to attempt to shake him awake, the mans eyes opened at his touch, grabbing his arm, pinning him to the ground, ready to fight. He was clearly new to the village and was scared. Narry breathed in through his teeth to minimalize his reaction to the pain. 

"Hey, relax." He managers to mutter out, watching the fear slowly dissipate from the others eyes although it was still very clear with his body language. "I'm not going to hurt you, I want to help you before it's too late." He says calmly, dropping his walking stick, holding his hands up to show he poses no threat. 

Slowly the man got off of him, holding a stomach to his side looking away. "What happened?" Narry asks gently, sitting up slowly. The man didn't answer, his eyes looking around frantically. After a few minutes, Narry nods, grabbing his walking stick, getting up. "Don't talk a lot, do you?" His London accent was very noticeable as he held his hand out to the man, helping him up. 

The two walk back to a house, the door opens and Narry walks inside leaning his walking stick against the wall, limping to sit down on the sofa, rubbing his hand up and down his leg. The man walked and sat down on an arm chair, keeping his hand on his stomach. 

"Do you have a name?" He asks, eyeing him up and down. The man nods looking around the room, tapping his finger on his knee. 

His hair was messed up despite it being so short, he was dirty, his clothes were ripped and raggedy and he had dried blood from a nose bleed and a bust lip on his face. His eyes held fear but also suspicion as he looked around and his hand hasn't moved from the spot on his stomach. 

"Can I know your name?" Narry said in a much gentler voice, the other man got up picking up a quill writing down the name 'Stanley' before showing him it. "Stanley, hm? It's a nice name, what happened to you?" He asks, watching Stanley swap hands over the bloody wound on his stomach so he can write easier. 

His face contorted into concern as he adjusted himself in his chair, reading what he wrote. 

'I got bit a few years ago, lived on the streets, drank animal blood, these guys accused me of drinking blood from missing children and attacked me no matter how much I begged them not to - I didn't harm any of them, I promise.' 

Narry felt his heart ache as the hand rushed to write the last part, his blood from the wound dripping down onto the paper before he started swaying. Narry stood up barely catching him on time as he passed out, struggling to hold both of their body weights as his own injured leg gives out and he collapses to the floor, making sure Stanley didn't hit his head or anything. 

He laid him down with a cushion under his head before calling the doctor on his candlestick telephone, anxiously awaiting on him to awaken. 

10 Minutes later the doctor walked inside, starting to work on Stanley while Narry stood watching intently. 

"Will he be okay?" Narry asks, the doctor looks up at him, pouring alcohol on the wound, cleaning and sterilising it before stitching it. Stanley woke up as he started to stitch, gasping in pain. Narry immediately knelt down, grabbing his hand to help him deal with the pain. The doctor continued to stitch it up before wrapping it in a bandage. 

"He'll be fine." The doctor decides, getting up, cleaning his hands before folding his arms. 

"How much will that be?" Narry asks, watching Stanley calm his breathing. The doctor scoffed, turning to leave. 

"Narry, you keep us safe from his  kind. Consider this as payback for your help keeping our children safe." The doctor said before leaving. Narry ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the man on the floor who was now wiping the sweat off of his forehead. 

"You should get some rest, I need to run some errands." Narry says, helping him up walking him to his bedroom, sitting him on the bed. He walked and grabbed him some of his pyjamas laying them down on the bed next to him. "Uhm, Stanley. I'll sort a room out for you in my house, as long as you promise me one thing." Narry says, feeling generous. 

Stanley looks up at him, his eyes scanning his facial features, trying to figure out if this was some type of cruel joke. He nodded however, listening intently to what he had to say. 

"You continue to only drink animal blood. I'm a hunter and will kill you the second I see you drinking anything other than it." He says, standing his ground. He may be letting him live in his house until he's healed enough to leave, but he was still taking his job as a hunter seriously. 

Stanley held out a shaky, bloody hand pointing his pinkie out. 

Narry locked pinkies with him. 

"I believe we're too old for a pinkie promise, but since you don't talk I suppose this will do." Narry sighs, heading for the door, limping. 

Almost immediately he felt a hand on his waist and one on his arm, helping him walk minimalizing the pain he is receiving from his injured leg. He looked back at Stanley, shocked and possibly a little flustered? 

Stanley makes him stand in one spot, bringing his walking stick to him before walking back upstairs, changing into the pyjamas, going to sleep in the bed. 

Narry's face grew colder, as he walked outside, determined to find out who would hurt a harmless man that badly.