#461 - Leash - We Three Kings - Lightning_skies - Blade/Underworld

[lightning-skies.livejournal.com]

Title: We Three Kings
Fandom: BtVS/Bleach
Prompt: 461 - Leash
Words: 622
Warnings: None

Hannibal would never admit it, but he was a little bit, tiny bit, miniscule really, disappointed that Drake had overestimated himself and died of the Daystar Virus. The blood demon talked a big game and Hannibal had almost bought into the dream of finding a real family in an emerging vampire utopia. Hey, it wasn’t even in the top 10 of his weirdest dreams for the future, he read too many comic books for that, it was just the most disappointing because for a moment, it had seemed plausible.

Every orphan dreams of family coming to take them away. Hannibal’s dreams just had pointier teeth than most.

Instead of being swept off to Never Never Land where he’d never have to grow up, when reality hit, Hannibal was left feeling old and without even the little bit of a life he’d scraped together with the Nightstalkers. Blade wandered off to who-the-fuck-knew-where to kill something or contemplate his navel or join a band, Hannibal didn’t particularly care. Ana, Hedges and Dex were all dead and Abby was quitting the life to try and take care of Zoe. He didn’t even consider trying to invite himself to that party. He may have attempted to insinuate himself into Abby and Ana’s little family, but with everything falling apart at the seams it was more obvious than ever that he’d only been on the outside, looking in at the trio. Story of his life; always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

He gave Zoe a big hug and a kiss on the head, promised to always be her favorite Uncle Hannibal and made Abby promise to call if she needed anything. The tone of their goodbye made it pretty clear on both sides that neither of them thought it likely that she’d ever follow through on the promise. He wasn’t expecting to see either of them again and considering his quality of life, was glad of the fact. After her own shit childhood Abby would do everything in her power to make sure Zoe was happy and maybe she’d find a little slice of normal for herself along the way.

Falling back on his last option, Hannibal installed himself as a nuisance in Somerfield’s Daystar think-tank science buddy, Caldur’s lab. He spent his nights hunting down the messy remnants of House Talos and his days letting the man poke and prod at him, testing for effects of being ground zero for the Daystar release, looking for proof of Drake’s claims that he was born with super-vamp’s blood in his veins and trying to figure out how Somerfield had cured him. Basically, Caldur sucked more blood out of him in little vials than any vamp ever had.

The whole thing was a bit of a fog to be honest. Hannibal just kinda drifted aimlessly, the way he always did when everything fell apart around him and took vital parts of himself with it. Freefalling through life and waiting for the inevitable moment when he either landed on his feet or finally found the end of the line. He should have been used to the aching burn of disappointed dreams by now. Life loved nothing more than kicking Hannibal when he was down. Which is why he greeted Caldur’s betrayal with a sick sense of bitter resignation rather than surprise when the man drugged him and had an unidentified team of burly foreign guys drag him into a shipping crate.

Chained to a chair in the dark and attached to an IV full of sedative, Hannibal wondered what the hell his life actually was, because he was pretty sure no one else in the history of the world had ever had to put up with this much absolute bullshit.