View User's Journal

Please avert your eyes! It's total trash.

Bedridden

To say that Aodh felt like s**t would be an understatement. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this lousy, and he was starting to think it had never happened before, especially when his throat was so raw he coughed up a phlegm-blood mixture and he could barely sit up without wanting to puke.

It was really shaping up to be a bad day, and if he had known it would get worse, he never would have forced himself to get up and answer the door when it buzzed.

His movements were slow, sluggish, and as he looked out the peephole, he couldn't help but curse lowly under his breath in Gaelic. Of all the people Aodh wanted to see when he felt like s**t, his father-turned-umpteenth-great grandfather just happened to be the one standing on the other side, a patient look on his face. Aodh didn't know what to do, but knew that it wouldn't work to just let him stand in the hallway. He probably already knew he was standing there.

So with a sigh, the Irishman pulled the door open, put on his best miserable face, and let out a creaky, "Whaddaya want?"

Sebastian almost felt bad for the young man in front of him, but his sympathy was on hold until he at least understood what had caused the uncanny resemblance between him and his son. Tucked under his left arm, Sebastian held his metal lock box full of birth and death certificates. "I'd just like to have a word with you."

Aodh made a face, turning his head away and coughing. He took a deep breath, already not liking where this was going, "About what? I mean, you can probably tell I'm not feeling well. Wouldn't want to get you sick."

"That won't happen, I can guarantee. But I need a few questions answered, and then I'll leave you be." Sebastian had on his best soothing voice, but it did nothing to calm the other blond. Aodh knew where this was headed, and didn't want it to go any further.

"Look, if this is about what you said at the theater last week, it's prolly just a coincidence. Leave it at that, would ya?" Aodh coughed again, "You're lucky I even answered the door."

Sebastian had a moment of uncertainty. The college student before him did look as though he had seen much better days, but he needed to know, and he needed to know now. "I promise this won't take long."

The younger blond muttered under breath, a foul Gaelic curse, before stepping aside, "Fine. Whatever. But I'm going back to my comfy bed." He turned and tried his best to storm down the hall, but his legs gave a bit and he instead opted for leaning on the wall as he walked painstakingly towards his room. He didn't bother to look and see if Sebastian was following - there was no doubt in his mind that he was.

And he was right. Sebastian followed at a much slower pace, keeping an eye on the other's unsteady movements. As Aodh entered his bedroom and curled back up in his bed, Sebastian was only a few steps behind. The room looked well lived in, clothes and text books strewn across the hard-wood floor. A stack of comic books was leaning precariously near the computer desk, which was covered in paper, a stereo, more clothes, and no computer. The computer, it seemed, lived on the windowsill near a ferret cage, though there was no foul-smelling weasel cousin in it. The walls were covered in random posters, and to Sebastian's shock, numerous weapons. If he hadn't been so intent on his questions, Sebastian would have been happy to examine the room further - especially the weapons. But as it was, he waited for Aodh to get situated in his bed.

Aodh sighed, "Okay then, shoot."

Sebastian sat on the unoccupied windowsill, putting his lock-box in his lap and opening it, "I should start by asking your full name."

"Easy peasy. Aodh Finvarre Flann. A-o-d-h, F-i-n-v-a-r-r-e, F-l-a-n-n." Sebastian wasn't sure if the look on Aodh's face was of boredom or from trying to not throw up. It was the latter.

The vampire rummaged for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper, "Your birthday is October twenty-seventh?"

Aodh nodded, "Yep. What's that paper?"

"Your birth certificate."

"Uh," a cough, "Why do you have my birth certificate?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, "I follow my family's genealogy very carefully, and since a copy of your proof of birth is in this box, then we are related. This answers one of my questions."

Aodh coughed again, a hacking sound, "That's all fine and dandy, but why does it matter?"

"What have Tobias and Morgan told you about me?" Sebastian answered his question with a question of his own.

"Other than that you're a lot older than you look and that you and their dad have more sex than a porn star, not much." He paused, deciding he wanted to torment the twins a bit, "Oh, and that you'd look good in a floral print sun dress."

"I'm not even going to ask." The blond vampire shook his head before continuing, "And they aren't exaggerating."

"About the sex?"

"About the age."

"Oh. So how old are you then?" Aodh knew the answer, but pretended otherwise just to keep face. He was going to avoid telling Sebastian as much as he could for as long as he could.

"Old enough to have over a fifteen-hundred years worth of descendants, though I must ask that you refrain from revealing this fact to anyone that does not already know." He was going out on a limb here - he had a sinking suspicion that Aodh Finvarre Flann wasn't exactly who he seemed to be. His eyes, Sebastian had noticed, were far too old.

'How would someone not expecting that react?' Aodh thought suddenly. His barely coherent state made him muddled, and his reaction was paused long enough that it was obvious to Sebastian that something was up when he finally did say, "You don't have a wrinkle on you. Who does your make-up?"

Sebastian was patient - there was no doubt about this. But he knew that something was up with the younger blond - and based on the fact that the boy obviously didn't want to talk about the words exchanged at the movie theater, it seemed to have to do with his son. "Enough of that, if you will. You're hiding something, and I'd rather not waste time beating around the bush. Why did comparing you to my son upset you?"

On a better day, Aodh would have been able to dodge the question artfully. Give a bullshit answer, then write it down later once the vampire had left. As it was, his head was starting to hurt, and he was feeling petulant. This wasn't the time. It wasn't the place. If he had been given the choice, this day would never have come. Honestly, what were the odds of him moving in with his father-turned-umpteenth-great-grandfather's lover's kids? It had to be some kind of cosmic hiccup, because by his calculations, it should have been impossible. His belief in fate was starting to make a comeback, and he didn't like it. So what did fate want him to do? Well, considering it's backed you into a ruddy corner, he mentally grumbled, sending Sebastian a dark look as he mulled over his words carefully. His deep thoughts weren't getting very far, as Sebastian's own amber eyes were practically boring holes into his skull. "Could you, you know, stop staring at me? It's distracting."

He continued to stare. "Answer the question, and I'll stop."

Aodh muttered to himself, hating this. He'd been trapped in something he didn't want to deal with, and his headache was just telling him to go ahead and spill the ******** beans already. So he looked up at Sebastian, eyes locked, and began to speak in a creaky, sore-throat induced monotone, "Your son was named Fionnbhar, and by modern reckoning was born on approximately March 14. When he was 10, his mother died of unknown causes, but it was probably pneumonia. At about 19, he 'married' a red-head named Beatrice, whose parents had been his unofficial guardian since he was orphaned. They had 6 children together, two of which died shortly after being born. They were together for nearly twenty years before Beatrice was murdered, and their youngest daughter, only six, suffered the same fate. Overcome by grief, he killed the killers and was hanged as a murderer himself. The End."

Sebastian hadn't expected what he was hearing. There was no possible - correction, probable - way that Aodh knew all this, and yet he did. The vampire stared for a moment before stating in as calm a voice as he could manage, "Then how is it you are here now, Fionnbhar?"

Aodh was silent. He'd admitted, in a round about way, exactly who he was. In that same way, he'd answered Sebastian's question, "Look, you asked your question, I answered. Now kindly shove off. I'm sick." He paused, continuing in a softer voice, "Besides, I'm not Fionnbhar anymore. Haven't been for a while."

"Then who are you?"

Aodh plastered on a fake smile, "Why, I'm Aodh Flann, only son of Aine and Ailill Flann. Born and raised in Ennis, brat older brother to Gwen Flann. That's it. I'm not your son - haven't been since I locked myself in this body, and that's a story I'm not telling - even to you. Or is that 'especially to you'? Whichever."

There was a silence in the air, each man in his own thoughts. Sebastian was just trying to get his head around this, and found that after everything strange that had happened in his long life - being a vampire and meeting Alexandra top among them - this was probably the most difficult thing he'd ever endured. Just what do you say to a son you never once met, only watched from afar, and who insists that he's no longer your son - despite memories and a physical appearance that states otherwise?

Aodh's thoughts were similar - yes, he'd known from the moment he saw Sebastian the week before exactly who he was. Growing up, he'd caught glimpses of him sometimes, watching - and had known even then who he was. But now... this man was his father, yet did it even still mean anything? He'd never known him, and to be honest, hated him a bit because of it. It was irrational, and he knew it. He had seen him again when he was a ghost, nearly fifty years earlier, and had realized what he was - knew that his reasons for hiding had been acceptable.

Did it matter now?

No, they both decided. It was too late.

"Then I will leave you to your rest, Aodh Flann." Sebastian's voice was low, and there was the slightest sound of hurt in it's depths. He recognized that though this was Fionnbhar, he was not his son.

Another cough, and Aodh's fake smile from before returned - this time true and very small, "I appreciate it, Mr. Hector."

As the tall blond stood and walked toward the door, Aodh's voice stopped him, "Next time you want to talk to me, make sure I'm not hacking up a lung, okay?"

Sebastian left, smile on his face.

Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

More Information