[Fic] Best Bloods Claimed
"Happy biiiiiirthday dear Seeeeeth!" Seth's parents sang, horribly off-key and out of tune. Seth blushed and giggled as his father conducted his mother like they were in the orchestra. "HAAAAPPY BIRTHDAAAY TOOOOO YOOOOOOU!" they finished, then cut off with the quick snap of his father's wrists.
"You guys," he protested. "That was horrible. The neighbors' dog is probably wondering what happened over here."
"Aw, let him wonder. We'll tell him, won't we Susan?" Seth's father nudged his mother, who giggled and nodded.
"Blow out the candles, Seth, before we have call the fire department."
"Mom, I'm only sixteen--isn't it a little early to be making those jokes?"
"Never to early to start in on something like that, right honey?"
"Blow out your candles, you old fogey," Seth's father said, wrapping an arm around his mother.
Seth smiled. It wasn't actually his birthday; in fact, it was a couple of days AFTER his sixteenth birthday--he'd spent the entire day before in bed, because he was sixteen and he had just gotten his wings. His parents were so proud of him, they kept saying. Especially his father, who was also a Children's Angel. "Goddamnit if I didn't know he was always a chip off the old block," the old man had said, wiping tears out of his eyes after the whole ordeal was over. "I knew you had it in you, Seth."
"Blow them out!" Roger Zafranski shouted now, jumping up and down like a two year old instead of an incredibly proud father excited about his only child's sixteenth birthday. "Come on Seth, you played tuba, BLOW!"
Seth grinned, and made a huge show of inhaling, filling his lungs and leaning in when he could hold in no more air. Here goes nothing--
And then the chair slipped out from under him and in his panic, something started happening. His back was on fire again, just like it had been yesterday, and he was seeing flashes of light and there was so much pain, more than yesterday. His vision blacked out as his insides twisted and reshaped themselves under his skin, and as he passed out, he could hear his parents shouting, could almost see their hands reaching out to grab him, and as he blinked once or twice, he could see his mother's absolutely panicked face. Only she didn't look so concerned about him.
Seth woke up five minutes later, still in the place where he had passed out. He couldn't see anyone--where were his parents? Why hadn't they moved him? What the hell was going on? He still felt a little woozy, but he raised his head and everything seemed to mostly clear itself up. What the hell had happened? He wasn't one to just pass out at regular intervals, and his parents weren't ones to just LEAVE him... maybe they had just panicked and both gone to call 9-1-1, except the phone was in the kitchen and they weren't in the kitchen because HE was in the kitchen...
On vaguely unsteady legs, Seth pulled himself into a standing position, moving to go ahead and find his parents. They weren't in the kitchen, they weren't in the hallway--they were in the living room. He could hear them now, arguing at levels he had never heard them argue before. His father sounded... well, livid. Why was he so angry at Seth's birthday party?
"WHO THE HELL WAS THIS GUY THEN, SUSAN? WHO WAS HE?"
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU, ROGER? ARE YOU SOME KIND OF ARCHANGEL? ARE YOU GOING TO HUNT HIM DOWN, HM?" his mother shouted back, also clearly enraged. Seth sank back into the hallway, not wanting to see the argument, much less listen to it. They NEVER argued like this. Seth didn't know what to do.
"I'M A HUSBAND, SUSAN. I'M A HUSBAND WHO HAS BEEN FAITHFUL ALL THESE YEARS."
"THEN I GUESS THAT MAKES ME A CHEATING BITCH, DOESN'T IT? A CHEATING BITCH WHO PROVIDED YOU WITH A SON."
"A SON WHO ISN'T MINE. A SON WHO IS A SWITCHER, SUSAN. MY SON, A SWITCHER."
Instantly all the muscles in Seth's back tightened. Switcher? Who the hell was a... His hands shaking, he ran back into the kitchen to grab the thermometer, tears in his eyes. Something felt wrong about what had happened in the kitchen, and...
He didn't get that far. Overcome with tears, he stumbled and fell, and as he went down he felt fur exploding in large patches all over his body.
Behemoth. He was a behemoth demon. But he had known just a few hours ago that he was a Children's Angel. How could he--
There was only way one got a switcher--by having a child whose parents were an angel and a demon. There was no way one of his parents could have concealed the fact that they were in fact a demon. Which meant...
Seth howled, and his parents darted out into the hallway. In his new beast form, he could sense the anger in the air and it made him nervous. He clawed at the wall, ripping the wall paper his mother loved so much.
"Seth!" his mother cried, rushing to his side. She ran her hands over his dark fur, her hands far too cold to the touch. His father just stared at them both.
"Susan," he said coldly. "Get away from him."
"What are you going to do, Roger?" she snarled, curling her arms protectively around him. "Are you going to kill him? Is that what you're going to do--kill your own son?"
"Get away from him, Susan," Roger snapped, advancing on the two. "Get away from him and get away from this house. I don't want you here any more. Get out. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Susan stared at her husband, blinked three times and then moved shakily towards the stairs. "I'll get my things."
"OUT!" Roger shouted. "I'll mail you your goddamn things, just get out of my house and never come back!" He charged her and she bolted, running through the door, sobbing the whole way. Roger drew back and looked at Seth, who looked at this stage like a huge saber-tooth tiger. He was still so angry--Seth's animal instincts could tell him that. Was he going to kill Seth? Could he do that? Seth made a whimpering noise, his monster-version of crying.
"It's okay, Seth," Roger said, relaxing a little bit and holding out a hand for Seth to sniff. "It's okay. I'm here, and nothing's going to happen to you while I'm here." He wrapped his arms around around his son, who switched out of his monster form and pressed against his father, totally naked, as the two men cried into each other's shoulders.
It was going to be okay, somehow. It was going to be okay.
Muse: Seth Zafranski
Word count: 1137 words
Prompt: The world's a fickle measure for kawaiispinel
"You guys," he protested. "That was horrible. The neighbors' dog is probably wondering what happened over here."
"Aw, let him wonder. We'll tell him, won't we Susan?" Seth's father nudged his mother, who giggled and nodded.
"Blow out the candles, Seth, before we have call the fire department."
"Mom, I'm only sixteen--isn't it a little early to be making those jokes?"
"Never to early to start in on something like that, right honey?"
"Blow out your candles, you old fogey," Seth's father said, wrapping an arm around his mother.
Seth smiled. It wasn't actually his birthday; in fact, it was a couple of days AFTER his sixteenth birthday--he'd spent the entire day before in bed, because he was sixteen and he had just gotten his wings. His parents were so proud of him, they kept saying. Especially his father, who was also a Children's Angel. "Goddamnit if I didn't know he was always a chip off the old block," the old man had said, wiping tears out of his eyes after the whole ordeal was over. "I knew you had it in you, Seth."
"Blow them out!" Roger Zafranski shouted now, jumping up and down like a two year old instead of an incredibly proud father excited about his only child's sixteenth birthday. "Come on Seth, you played tuba, BLOW!"
Seth grinned, and made a huge show of inhaling, filling his lungs and leaning in when he could hold in no more air. Here goes nothing--
And then the chair slipped out from under him and in his panic, something started happening. His back was on fire again, just like it had been yesterday, and he was seeing flashes of light and there was so much pain, more than yesterday. His vision blacked out as his insides twisted and reshaped themselves under his skin, and as he passed out, he could hear his parents shouting, could almost see their hands reaching out to grab him, and as he blinked once or twice, he could see his mother's absolutely panicked face. Only she didn't look so concerned about him.
Seth woke up five minutes later, still in the place where he had passed out. He couldn't see anyone--where were his parents? Why hadn't they moved him? What the hell was going on? He still felt a little woozy, but he raised his head and everything seemed to mostly clear itself up. What the hell had happened? He wasn't one to just pass out at regular intervals, and his parents weren't ones to just LEAVE him... maybe they had just panicked and both gone to call 9-1-1, except the phone was in the kitchen and they weren't in the kitchen because HE was in the kitchen...
On vaguely unsteady legs, Seth pulled himself into a standing position, moving to go ahead and find his parents. They weren't in the kitchen, they weren't in the hallway--they were in the living room. He could hear them now, arguing at levels he had never heard them argue before. His father sounded... well, livid. Why was he so angry at Seth's birthday party?
"WHO THE HELL WAS THIS GUY THEN, SUSAN? WHO WAS HE?"
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU, ROGER? ARE YOU SOME KIND OF ARCHANGEL? ARE YOU GOING TO HUNT HIM DOWN, HM?" his mother shouted back, also clearly enraged. Seth sank back into the hallway, not wanting to see the argument, much less listen to it. They NEVER argued like this. Seth didn't know what to do.
"I'M A HUSBAND, SUSAN. I'M A HUSBAND WHO HAS BEEN FAITHFUL ALL THESE YEARS."
"THEN I GUESS THAT MAKES ME A CHEATING BITCH, DOESN'T IT? A CHEATING BITCH WHO PROVIDED YOU WITH A SON."
"A SON WHO ISN'T MINE. A SON WHO IS A SWITCHER, SUSAN. MY SON, A SWITCHER."
Instantly all the muscles in Seth's back tightened. Switcher? Who the hell was a... His hands shaking, he ran back into the kitchen to grab the thermometer, tears in his eyes. Something felt wrong about what had happened in the kitchen, and...
He didn't get that far. Overcome with tears, he stumbled and fell, and as he went down he felt fur exploding in large patches all over his body.
Behemoth. He was a behemoth demon. But he had known just a few hours ago that he was a Children's Angel. How could he--
There was only way one got a switcher--by having a child whose parents were an angel and a demon. There was no way one of his parents could have concealed the fact that they were in fact a demon. Which meant...
Seth howled, and his parents darted out into the hallway. In his new beast form, he could sense the anger in the air and it made him nervous. He clawed at the wall, ripping the wall paper his mother loved so much.
"Seth!" his mother cried, rushing to his side. She ran her hands over his dark fur, her hands far too cold to the touch. His father just stared at them both.
"Susan," he said coldly. "Get away from him."
"What are you going to do, Roger?" she snarled, curling her arms protectively around him. "Are you going to kill him? Is that what you're going to do--kill your own son?"
"Get away from him, Susan," Roger snapped, advancing on the two. "Get away from him and get away from this house. I don't want you here any more. Get out. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Susan stared at her husband, blinked three times and then moved shakily towards the stairs. "I'll get my things."
"OUT!" Roger shouted. "I'll mail you your goddamn things, just get out of my house and never come back!" He charged her and she bolted, running through the door, sobbing the whole way. Roger drew back and looked at Seth, who looked at this stage like a huge saber-tooth tiger. He was still so angry--Seth's animal instincts could tell him that. Was he going to kill Seth? Could he do that? Seth made a whimpering noise, his monster-version of crying.
"It's okay, Seth," Roger said, relaxing a little bit and holding out a hand for Seth to sniff. "It's okay. I'm here, and nothing's going to happen to you while I'm here." He wrapped his arms around around his son, who switched out of his monster form and pressed against his father, totally naked, as the two men cried into each other's shoulders.
It was going to be okay, somehow. It was going to be okay.
Muse: Seth Zafranski
Word count: 1137 words
Prompt: The world's a fickle measure for kawaiispinel