Fanfiction: Tempo Rubato
Title: Tempo Rubato
Fandom: Being Human (UK)
Characters: Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Words: 336
Summary: Vampires never forget. On the clarity of memory, and what it means for Mitchell.
The only things Mitchell remembers from his childhood are facts, like the day he was born and the city he grew up in, things he has had to repeat so many times he will never forget them. He doesn't remember what his parents looked like. He only remembers his father's name because they shared it. He has vague impressions of war, of dark places and the fading reek of mustard gas, but the first thing he really remembers is sitting up in a pile of corpses, sucking air into his lungs so hard his teeth rattle, and seeing Herrick standing at his feet.
When his breathing calmed, he raised both shaking hands in front of his face. He thought he'd been used to battlefields. And maybe he had been - but not like this. When he woke that day he tasted life and death on his tongue, the hard scents of wood and steel and a heavy, sweet smell he would later identify as blood. Even then, newborn and reeling, he wanted it.
“Come on then,” Herrick had said, putting out a hand. “Up. I'll explain things on the way.”
-
It takes Mitchell a long time to realize what's going on, which is that living as a vampire drowns out anything human in him. Next to the frantic vitality of this new existence, his old memories feel oddly stale. Eventually, he starts forgetting things. Significant things, like the name of the street he’d lived on, and whether or not his parents prayed before meals.
Some time later, eating oatmeal in someone else's apartment, he realizes he can't remember if he had any siblings.
He chews slowly, swallows, lays his spoon down. In the living room, just visible from where he sits, a woman lies half-naked on the couch. The upper half of her body has slid onto the floor, arms bent over her head against the carpet. Most of her neck is missing.
“What do you think?” Mitchell asks, turning toward her. “Should I be worried?”
Fandom: Being Human (UK)
Characters: Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Words: 336
Summary: Vampires never forget. On the clarity of memory, and what it means for Mitchell.
The only things Mitchell remembers from his childhood are facts, like the day he was born and the city he grew up in, things he has had to repeat so many times he will never forget them. He doesn't remember what his parents looked like. He only remembers his father's name because they shared it. He has vague impressions of war, of dark places and the fading reek of mustard gas, but the first thing he really remembers is sitting up in a pile of corpses, sucking air into his lungs so hard his teeth rattle, and seeing Herrick standing at his feet.
When his breathing calmed, he raised both shaking hands in front of his face. He thought he'd been used to battlefields. And maybe he had been - but not like this. When he woke that day he tasted life and death on his tongue, the hard scents of wood and steel and a heavy, sweet smell he would later identify as blood. Even then, newborn and reeling, he wanted it.
“Come on then,” Herrick had said, putting out a hand. “Up. I'll explain things on the way.”
-
It takes Mitchell a long time to realize what's going on, which is that living as a vampire drowns out anything human in him. Next to the frantic vitality of this new existence, his old memories feel oddly stale. Eventually, he starts forgetting things. Significant things, like the name of the street he’d lived on, and whether or not his parents prayed before meals.
Some time later, eating oatmeal in someone else's apartment, he realizes he can't remember if he had any siblings.
He chews slowly, swallows, lays his spoon down. In the living room, just visible from where he sits, a woman lies half-naked on the couch. The upper half of her body has slid onto the floor, arms bent over her head against the carpet. Most of her neck is missing.
“What do you think?” Mitchell asks, turning toward her. “Should I be worried?”