12Title: Unholy Desires
Characters: Taichi, Yamato, Vamdemon||Ship: Taichi x Yamato
Chapters: 1-20||Words: 2,282||Story: 2,282
Genre: Supernatural, Romance||Rated: PG
Challenges: Diversity Writing, Digimon Adventure 02 Firestarter/Healer AUs, L19, 5+ fics; what-if: What if Yamato were bitten by Vamdemon?
Notes: Okay, here we go. This isn't just a Firestarter/Healer AU. This is also a breeds AU & an alternate timeline: set in season one, but Jou is 15, Taichi, Yamato, & Sora are 14, Mimi & Koushirou are 13, and Takeru is 11. THe breed-Chosen aren't aware of their nature as of yet. Now, this begins just as the fight between Angemon, WereGarurumon, and Vamdemon wraps up.
Summary: One quick bite was all that it took and not only do the Chosen have a new foe to fight, forged from one of their own, but Taichi must deal with an attraction he never expected.
Sight and hearing, scent and taste, every sense of Vamdemon's existed on a higher level than that of an ordinary Digimon and most especially that of a mere human. From the first moment he'd come near the Chosen, certain scents taunted at him. Some more than others – he kept his attention on the oldest more than most. The oldest and this young blond here.
In battle it was hard to do so, but he managed quite well. He'd made up his mind on what to do with them once he finished off WereGarurumon and now Angemon. Just because he wasn't ready to deal with a holy Digimon right now didn't mean that he wasn't going to do something.
"I'll finish this fight another day," he told them. In that moment he could see them relaxing. Not very much; if he'd attacked them they would have fought back, perhaps even inflicted real damage. Holy Digimon could do that to him, annoying as it was.
But he took a different route. As quick as he could move, he darted down to where the two humans watched, and seized the elder one tight in his grip, taking him back up, so far that the Digimon dared not attack.
"What are you doing? Let me go!" The boy screamed and struggled, but to no avail. Vamdemon's strength far outmatched his. This close, Vamdemon could scent not only his rising fear but something else altogether. Normally he would never have touched a Healer's blood – they were not quite holy creatures but he'd tasted it once before, and it took him weeks to recover from just those few drops. He'd drained as many Digimon as he could afterwards, just to get the taste out of his mouth.
"I don't think so," Vamdemon smiled. Yes, he could smell the hint of digital blood there, more so than would be accounted for by spending months in the Digital World.
His head darted forward and he buried his fangs into the blond's neck. The boy shrieked, struggled for a few seconds, then hung limp. His brother yelled and screamed, WereGarurumon and Angemon circling near. Neither dared approach, not when he had their little friend right in his grip like that.
I want more! Vamdemon sucked, slurping as much blood down as he could manage, wanting more and more with each moment. He'd never tasted anything that was so good in his entire existence! And he knew why.
This wasn't just the blood of a Healer – this was the blood of a powerful Ultimate Digimon, one of those rare few born from the crossing of human and Digimon. He knew exactly which Digimon as well. He'd only fed from Piemon once, but he would never forget what that blood tasted like.
And here it was again, where he'd least expected to find it. He would have to keep this one. Piemon would want his son back – just as he wanted his own.
"Let him go!" Angemon's rod lashed at him, while WereGarurumon leaped up and seized onto his partner. Vamdemon's grip loosened; he tried to grasp for the boy again but Angemon struck, rage written large all over him. "I said to let him go! How dare you!"
Vamdemon floated backwards, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "You have no idea what you have there – other than something I want and will have." He smiled. "I'll see you again later, my spawn." Spawn,, not his son. He would recruit his son later.
For now, though, he departed. That glorious taste remained on his lips and he returned to his lair to enjoy it in peace.
But he would have the boy again. Not to feed from – that would no longer be possible. But now one of the Chosen would kneel to him.
Piemon would love this.
Takeru held onto Angemon with all of his strength as they flew through the evening. WereGarurumon bounced along as fast as he could, holding Yamato, who hadn't moved or spoken or even breathed since being pulled away from Vamdemon's filthy grip. Takeru didn't want to think about that. He just needed to be taken care of. He was going to be fine.
Then a soft cry came from WereGarurumon, who stumbled, and dropped Yamato on the ground before he flickered back into Gabumon – a breath before becoming Tsunomon again. Takeru and Angemon headed down there at once.
"Are you all right?" Takeru wasn't certain if he asked Tsunomon or Yamato that. Neither one looked good. But Yamato did open his eyes and he smiled a little, one hand rising up.
"I'm fine," he murmured, or at least tried to, his lips struggling to form the words. "You can do it. You can beat him." He seemed to try to say something else, then his eyes closed again and he heaved a great sigh.
He didn't breath again. He didn't move.
Takeru stared, then slowly shook Yamato. There wasn't a hint of movement. He tried to scream but not a word or a sound came out of his throat and he shook his head over and over. This couldn't have happened. It was too fast; it was wrong! Yamato was a Healer, they didn't just die like this!
He rested his hands on the two puncture wounds in Yamato's neck and strained with all of his might. He knew he could Heal; he'd fixed tiny scrapes and wounds before. But despite all that he tried, nothing happened. Yamato didn't move. Yamato didn't breathe.
"I'm going to get Taichi," Angemon murmured. "I think I can get there and back before – before long. Will you be all right?"
Slowly Takeru nodded. He couldn't have been sure if they would be. Tsunomon wouldn't be able to – he glanced over. No. No, Tsunomon wouldn't be able to do anything. He gathered his brother's partner's egg into his arms and settled himself beside Yamato. They were in a small park. He didn't recognize it. He wasn't sure if he recognized anything right now.
"Go," he whispered. "Hurry." They couldn't just leave Yamato here. They had to do something. A slow dread rose up in the back of his mind. It wasn't one that had a real shape. Just a dread, a feeling that something wrong was going on and he didn't know what it was.
He would stay here with his brother. He would stay here as long as he needed to. If that meant forever – well – then he'd be there forever.
Being bitten hurt. Yamato knew that if he didn't know anything else. Being held by Vamdemon high up over the city hadn't been on his top ten lists of things to do that night. He would have been happy if they'd simply ended the fight and gone on home. Losing two friends – even if they'd only known them a short time – wasn't the best ending of the night but at least they could eventually avenge them when they defeated Vamdemon.
He'd never imagined that he would be bitten, that Vamdemon would drink his blood, and it hurt so very much. Nothing he did could get him out of the monster's grip, and everything started to gray out around him.. He thought he said things but he wasn't sure of what he said or who he said them to. Nor did he have any idea of how much time passed.
He thought – someone was around there. Someone, he didn't know who. But there was an aroma and while it was interesting, it wasn't what he wanted. It didn't feel right. He wanted something, he craved it with every ounce of himself, and he began to move. He would have to get it. He would have to take it.
He opened his eyes. He didn't recognize where he was. A park? The woods? Didn't matter. A place. He cast his gaze around and saw a person. They looked a bit familiar but they were the one who had that odd scent, the one that said what he wanted, he couldn't get from them. Life, yes, but too much of it. Far too much.
He licked his lips. They carried an egg. Why they carried an egg he didn't know. He didn't want eggs. He wanted – he wanted – he wanted -
Blood. Yes. He wanted blood. This stranger stared at him, blue eyes wide open, and started to reach out, lips shaping a word that meant nothing to him anymore.
What did mean something? They were saying – Yamato? A name? Not his name. Not now, not here. Maybe once, but not any longer. He licked his lips a gain.
"No," he said, tasting the words. "Not him." Who was he? Did he know his name? He thought he did. The name flickered slowly and he reached for it. Yes. Yes, that was his name. "Anbumon." He was Anbumon. He may have been Yamato once upon a time but he wasn't anymore.
The other started to back away. Anbumon dismissed him. He needed that blood and he would go wherever he had to in order to find it.
Perhaps his Master would know where it was. Anbumon frowned as the word crossed his mind. He wasn't sure if he liked having a Master. He had a father, he knew that, but that was different. A great deal different. He didn't want a Master but he had one regardless. For now.
Perhaps he would find a way to change that. That would come in due course. He would have to feed first.
"Yamato!" The cry came from behind him and he glanced there, irritated. Why was he being interrupted when he didn't have time to lurk around? "Don't go! Taichi's coming! We can – we can make it right!"
Why would he be wrong? He wasn't wrong at all. He was thirsty and if this prattling child didn't shut up, Anbumon would make certain he never spoke again.
Wait. What had he heard? Taichi – the name shouldn't have meant anything but it did. It whispered along inside of him, a sensation that he could only call wanting. It wasn't the same as wanting to feed, but it was wanting all the same. He frowned.
"Who?"
"Don't you remember? Your friend! Our friend!" The other blond stared at him, his eyes wide and so full of tears. "We can all fix this! You can be yourself again!"
Anbumon raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been aware that he had eyebrows until now. What else did he have? He would have to check. "I don't need t be fixed. And I am myself."
He began to take inventory of what he had on him. It wasn't much. A sweater, jeans, socks, shoes. The usual clothes. He would have to change those when he had the chance. Whatever his clothing tastes had been before, he didn't find these suitable now.
In one pocket he found a small device and stared at it, lip curling. He didn't recognize it and it revolted him on sight. Almost as much as the sight of that egg did, now that he thought about it.
With a flick of his wrist he tossed it aside. He had no idea of why he'd carried that. But he didn't need it.
The boy rushed for it and picked it up. "Why did you do that? Don't throw your Digivice away!"
Digivice. So that's what it was. But the name meant nothing at all. So very little did. Anbumon crossed his arms and stared. "Where is Taichi?" That alone held a scrap of meaning.
"I'm here!" A sweep of white feathers and a boy of about his own age and height jumped down to stand in front of him. The angel – oh Anbumon hated him on sight – stood next to the prattling blond child, watching him cautiously. An orange dinosaur stood next to the newcomer.
Anbumon looked him up and down carefully. A faint gust of wind brought the sweet scent of the other to him. This was a Firestarter – not always the best tasting, they ran hot, a deep instinct he'd never known about told him. But he would make a very fine first meal.
"Yamato?" The brunet asked, taking a step closer. That was all that he needed. Anbumon darted forward, gripping onto him much as Vamdemon had not that long ago, and strained to get his fangs into the neck so invitingly bare. "Yamato!"
"Not Yamato. Anbumon!" Anbumon hissed, trying again. The way that Taichi kept wriggling meant he couldn't get a good grip. Then the angel was there, sweeping him aside with a strike of the golden rod.
Anbumon unwillingly released his meal of choice and glared at the angel. "Stop that!" he would have struck the other down if a flicker of caution didn't keep him from doing so. Holy was wrong, holy could hurt, and he wanted nothing to do with it.
"I won't let you hurt anyone. What has Vamdemon done to you?" The angel – Angemon, he now remembered – demanded. Anbumon shrugged.
"Made me like him. I think." Truth to tell he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of much at the moment, except that endless need to feed. His gaze shifted back to Taichi, who stood there pale and shuddering. Then the brunet's eyes narrowed.
"Yamato. Look at me – just breathe, okay?" Taichi reached one hand towards him. "We'll help you. I promise."
Anbumon snarled. "My name is Anbumon!" He slashed at Taichi's hand, a viscous grin slashing over his face before he darted forward and licked at the trail of blood his strike left behind. He smiled at the taste. Every bit as delicious as he'd hoped.
To Be Continued
Notes: I meant this at first as a one-shot but then the potential got to me so I decided to chapter it instead. It'll be a revision of the end of the Vamdemon arc and will update once a week.
Also, this is being written in answer to a prompt on tumblr sent in by KrazieKat/healingmichiko. You asked for this!
