Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The disappearances should have worried him more. He recognized patterns, it was his job. He should have realized there was something more going on. But even if he had, it wouldn’t have changed things. It wouldn’t have stopped the hand reaching for his arm, pulling him into the dark alleyway. Wouldn’t have stopped the teeth that dug into his neck, sharper than they had any right to be. Research wouldn’t have stopped his assailant from shoving a vial of something thick and metallic into his mouth before he had a chance to scream. And no amount of pattern recognition would have stopped his assailant from locking eyes with him, and pulling him into unconsciousness.

Memories swirled just out of reach as he regained consciousness. He wasn’t sure where he was, or what had happened. All he could remember was a sharp pain digging into his neck. He tried to reach up and brush at it, but his hands stayed where they were. He tried again, but something was stopping him from moving. He opened his eyes, expecting to see his roommate passed out on top of him again. Instead, he found himself chained to the floor of an old cell. The walls around him were made of a strange stone that glowed with occult runes.

“Ah, you are awake, my young Dimitri.” A voice spoke from outside his field of vision.

“That’s not my name,” he rasped out, throat dry and head pounding.

“I know what name you went by. But that is not to be your current name, Dimitri.”

“My name is Cisco!” he bit out, trying to sit up. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Your name is Dimitri. You would do well to remember it. This will be your last warning.”

Cisco looked up at the man holding him down, and the night before came rushing back. “You,” he coughed, throat unbearably dry. “What the hell did you do to me? What did you drug me with?”

The man chuckled. “Drug you? I wouldn’t risk contaminating you before such an important event.”

“Contaminating…?” Cisco asked.

The man above him smiled. “Of course. To drug you would impact the change. I’d prefer you pristine. It’s not often one gets a specimen such as yourself.”

Cisco was done with this. He surged forward, trying to headbutt the man only for a clawed hand to grab him by the neck, slamming him back down into the ground. He coughed, a headache blooming where his head had cracked into the stone. He tried to grab at the hand, but his hands were still chained down. After a moment, he lay still, trying to suck in air despite the constraint on his neck.

“Are you quite finished, Dimitri?” Cisco’s eyes blurred with tears but he nodded. “Good. Then I may release you, so you may feed.”

This was getting worse by the minute. What was with those claws? And why was his throat so dry? Cisco didn’t trust any food that might come from this creep, so he shook his head.

The man tilted his head. “You need to feed, Dimitri. The longer you go, the worse it will get. Is that what you want?”

Cisco wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he want things to get worse? No! But did he think going along with whatever this man wanted him to do would help anything? Also no! Eventually, he skirted the question with a question of his own.

“Who are you?”

The man smiled in a way that might have been benevolent, if it weren’t for the sharp fangs peeking out. “Ah, I have not yet introduced myself. How forgetful of me. I am Cicada. Your sire.”

Cicada? As nicknames went, that was… okay that wasn’t cool it was just kind of weird. “Like the bug?” He asked before he could stop himself.

The smile dropped from Cicada’s face and he gripped Cisco’s arm tight. Cisco cried out as he heard something snap, pain lancing through his arm and shoulder. Something happened then. His teeth grew sharp and his vision focused in on the room, as if looking through a microscope.

He closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain. His now-sharp teeth sliced at the inside of his cheeks and he gasped, whimpering slightly at the pain. What the hell was happening??

“Keep your words more reverent, young fledgling. Or keep them behind your tongue if you cannot control it.”

Cicada sighed, grasping Cisco’s arm and twisting the other way till something snapped back. Cisco’s sharp teeth dug into his gums as he bit down, trying to hold back the scream for the second time in as many minutes.

“Heed my lesson,” Cicada cautioned, standing up. “I won’t be so merciful as to tend to your next punishment.”

He left the room, leaving Cisco lying on the floor, breathing harshly through hoarse lungs and bleeding mouth. 

The pain in his throat got worse, though by the time Cicada came back Cisco’s arm wasn’t in pain anymore. He’d be worried about it if he weren’t too worried with how he was going to survive this.

Cicada crouched in front of him, waving his hand and dismissing the chains. Cisco stared, but as Cicada reached for him he jolted back, then lashed out wildly. Cicada caught his arm, deftly twisting it behind Cisco’s back and shoving Cisco to the ground before he let go.

Cisco gasped for air, pushing himself off the ground and shakily getting to his feet.

“Really Dimitri? I thought by now we’d established my strength. You cannot fight your sire.”

“That’s not my name, I’m Cisco-”

A hand tightened around his neck and slammed him into the wall, cutting off his supply of air. “I have already told you Dimitri, that is no longer your name. You would do well to drop it.” Cicada let go and Cisco dropped to the floor, gasping for air. He supported his weight with his uninjured arm, protecting his neck with his injured one. Cicada was already moving around him, hand wrapping around Cisco’s hair and wrenching his head to the side, only to let go a moment later. Cisco wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but Cicada didn’t seem interested in telling him and Cisco definitely wasn’t interested in asking. Eventually, finished with his poking and prodding, Cicada waved his hand and the shackles appeared around Cisco’s wrists and ankles again, pulling him back to the floor. Cicada sighed, as if Cisco were merely an unruly child. “You would do best to forget the life you had. It will make this easier on you Dimitri.”

Cisco glared. “The day I accept that name is the day I die.”

Cicada chuckled. “My Dimitri, you’re already dead.”

Days began blurring together, and Cisco found it harder and harder to keep fighting. Cicada had offered for Cisco to ‘feed’ more times, since then, even once going so far as to bring someone into his cell. Cisco held his breath, wrestling his control until Cicada gave up, dragging the terrified human out of the room and muttering about ungrateful youth. 

Cisco had fallen asleep that night and dreamed of blood and death. He could feel his own humanity slipping away between his fingers, and knew it wouldn’t be long till he finally snapped.

Loud noises woke him up. Everything was louder, and his throat burned so badly he wanted to cry, but he’d long since stopped trying.

A moment later Cicada appeared in the doorway, dismissing the chains and hauling Cisco up by his shoulder. “We must leave. We’re under attack. Stay by my side, and do as I say.”

Cisco nodded, tripping over his feet as he struggled to keep up. His throat burned too much to talk, but there wasn’t much to say even if he could talk. Maybe he would have objected to being hauled out and used as a shield for the man who’d taken him, but even his survival instincts weren’t that bad.

He tripped again, and Cicada growled, spinning him around and staring hard into his eyes. “You will move quickly, and efficiently. If I tell you to die, you will die.”

Cisco could feel himself nodding despite himself. Was that how he’d been knocked out that first day? Was hypnotism another of Cicada’s terrible powers?

His body moving of Cicada’s will, he walked forward, body moving even as his mind fought against the spell. “You are making this so much harder than it needs to be Dimitri.” A tear traced down Cisco’s face at the name, but he didn’t have enough free will to protest. “How did he find us?” Cicada was rambling. “Was this all because of him? Did he get too involved and draw their attention? I swear, if he’s brought the -- down on my heads I’ll hunt him down and-” A spear of ice flew through the air, impaling Cicada. He dropped dead to the ground, and whatever control he’d had on Cisco was gone.

The relief was short lived however, as an overwhelming grief and agony sent him to his knees. He barely managed to bite back the scream, biting into his own arm to try and muffle it.

The pain wouldn’t stop, burning away at his mind and he shook to control it, digging his teeth into his arm. It hurt, but nowhere near as badly as the burn in his head. He couldn’t do anything but clench his jaw tighter, trying to smother the sobs. Words echoed above his head, but he could barely make them out.

“-k, the-o blood. He’s no- eeding.”

“But h- screaming. H-newborn.”

He tried to quiet down enough to hear the words, but the pain just grew worse. A hand ran through his hair and he tried to relax into it, desperate for the comfort offered. Another hand gripped his arm, pulling it away from his clenching jaw. He tried to follow his arm, but the hand in his hair tightened, holding him away from it.

A voice broke through the pain, cool against the burning of his mind. “Fledgling. Stop fighting me.”

Cisco found that he could, but the pain returned the second the voice was gone. He cried out, trying to lean further into the comforting hand. The pain wouldn’t stop, nothing made sense, and he just wanted this all to end.

The voice was right next to him, and he tried to focus on the words. It was easier to hear one of the voices this time, though he couldn’t fully make out what either of them were saying.

“Mick, he’s too- can’t keep this up. He needs-.”

“It’s up-you’re in- of this-”

 The pain spiked again, and Cisco jerked, trying to get out of the grasp or further in, he couldn’t tell, but the hands wouldn’t let him budge.

The voice sounded in his head again. “Still, fledgling. You’re making this worse. If you cannot calm, we will have to end you.”

One of the people spoke. “Come on, he’s pr-eral already.”

No, this couldn’t be how everything ended. He couldn’t die when he wasn’t even himself! “P...please,” he managed to gasp out, throat burning almost as hot as his head. He forced himself to open his eyes against the pain. “He...Help,”

There was a moment of silence, he couldn’t even focus enough to see those around him. A sharp pain dug into his arm, where he’d been biting himself, and everything went dark.

Regaining consciousness was hard. He wanted to fall back into the dreamless sleep he’d found, but while the pain in his head was gone, the burning in his throat was back stronger than ever, along with the overwhelming grief that had first hit when Cicada had been killed.

Sure, he didn’t want anyone to die, but he shouldn’t feel this strongly about the death of the man that had kidnapped him.

Something else was there though. Something cutting through the burning and the grief. A smell, that his heightened senses were craving. He sat up, trying to open his eyes and take in the room around him.

At first he thought it was too dark, but then things began to solidify, and discernible shapes appeared.

He was lying on a bed in some sort of motel room, a man sitting at a table, treating some kind of injury on his own arm.

Cisco knew the second he saw the injury what the smell was. It was the man’s blood. It had to be. There was something else there too. Something wrong. Something more than the desire to sink his teeth into the flesh and-

He felt sick with himself for the thought, and tried to back off the bed in the other direction, only to topple onto the floor.

Well, so much for subtlety. He winced as the chair scraped against the floor, and backed himself into a corner.

He wasn’t sure who to be more afraid of right then. The stranger, or himself.

Glancing around himself at the room, Cisco came to the startling realization that there were no weapons available. And if it came down to a fist fight… he wasn’t sure he could stop himself.

The stranger stopped once he’d rounded the bed, and Cisco stared up at him. This stranger was injured, Cisco could take him on, right?

But that wound on the stranger’s arm… the blood was calling to him. He couldn’t trust himself to lash out without taking things too far.

The man chuckled. “Pretty confident in yourself aren't you?”

Cisco glanced up at him, shocked. That was one of the voices from before. Not the one that had been in his head, but the gruff one. Whatever was happening, this was a test. It had to be. This wasn’t some random stranger. He knew what he was getting into here. Cisco was the one out of depth.

“Leave-” Cisco coughed at how dry his voice was. “Leave me alone,” he managed to rasp out.

The stranger chuckled. “You’re really something. For a fledgling. You haven’t even tried to go for my blood.” Cisco shrank even further against the wall, shaking his head. “What’s wrong? Not interested?”

Cisco could see the blood drying on his skin. It was right there, but still… He knew what was wrong now. He could smell it. “It’s a trap. Somehow. You’ve tainted it,” he rasped, then cursed himself for speaking.

The stranger laughed outright now. “Well then. I guess you’ll be wanting untainted blood then?”

Cisco shook his head. “...Water?”

The laughter stopped. The man in front of him seemed even more dangerous now, a deadly aura surrounding him. What had he done wrong? He’d just asked for water, why was that such a bad thing??

The man crouched down in front of him. “You know what you are...right? You did… you know… ask to be turned… right?”

A tear slipped down Cisco’s face and he quickly wiped it away, shaking his head. “...What’s happening to me?” He finally asked.

The man stood up. “Well...shit.” He turned around, pacing. “Shit! Cold’s not gonna be happy about this.”

While he was pacing, Cisco took the chance to glance around the room, still curled up in his corner. There really wasn’t much. A bed, a table and a chair, and a medical bag in the same corner as the table. There were two doors, and Cisco guessed one to be the door to the bathroom, the other the exit.

The exit was right there. If he could get out that door, then he’d be free! But… free to do what? Whatever he was turning into, it shouldn’t be out on the street. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he must be turning into some form of vampire. The obsession with blood, the fangs, there weren’t many other mythological creatures with those characteristics. At least, not that he’d heard of. As a human.

Besides, whatever that man was, he wasn’t just about to let Cisco run off on his own.

Finally, the man sighed, then walked over to the bag. He opened it, and pulled out a bag of something red. Instinctively, Cisco knew it was blood. Logically, he knew it was a medical blood bag.  The man returned to the corner Cisco had taken up residence in, pushing the bag into his hands.

“Drink. You sound like you haven’t drank since you changed.”

Cisco stared down at the bag. He wanted to. He could feel his fangs lengthening. But he couldn’t help the shudder of revulsion that ran through him at the thought.

The man stared at him. “...You at least drank when you changed, didn’t you??”

Cisco shook his head. “I won’t be a killer.”

“Yeah, it’s why I’m handing you a bag. You don’t have the control not to kill someone right now. But you drank when you changed, right? Your previous sire didn’t just leave you to starve did he?”

There was a word in that that caught Cisco’s attention, beyond the cravings and the pain. “Previous?”

“Look down.”

Cisco wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but when his eyes fell on his arm his stomach dropped. There, where he’d been biting himself, instead of scars from his own fangs, were small, identical snowflakes in the shape of the bite. Cisco wanted to cry all over again, but there weren’t any tears left.

The man nudged the bag again. “Drink. You need it. Things will make more sense when you aren’t starving.”

Cisco glanced between the man and the bag, apprehension flooding him. He wanted to. He really did. But at the same time, he couldn’t stand the thought of drinking blood, from a human or a bag was irrelevant.

The man sighed, before reaching out a hand-no, a claw, and slicing the bag open.

Instinct took over as the smell blood filled the air, and Cisco brought the bag to his mouth, sucking down the liquid.

Relief from the ache was immediate, and Cisco closed his eyes, just letting these new instincts take over for a moment. It was easier that way.

All too soon the bag was empty, and the man was nudging another into his hands but Cisco shook his head.

“Kid, you need to get over this aversion sooner or later. You’re gonna need blood in order to survive.”

“Answers.” He was glad his voice didn’t shake. The rest of him was terrified of pissing off this stranger who seemed to have complete control over what happened to him next. “You said things would make more sense.”

The man sighed. “Fair enough, but I’m not exactly the one with the plan here. So why don’t you ask your question, then keep drinking as I try to answer it. Sound good?”

Cisco nodded, trying to decide what his first question should be. Eventually he settled on something simple, and pressing: “Where am I?”

“You’re in an old motel off route 95. Near Central City.”

Central city? Then he wasn’t in Europe anymore…

He paused, drinking as he decided on his next question. “What are you planning to do with me?”

“No idea. My job’s just to make sure you don’t hurt anyone.”

“I would never-”

“You so sure of that? You were weighing with yourself if you could take me on. I saw it.”

“Only because I woke up alone in a strange room after being kidnapped!”

“So your sire kidnapped you?”

Cisco fell silent. He set the bag down, unable to keep drinking anymore. “...I was walking home… and the next thing I knew… He grabbed me, shoved a vial of something into my mouth, and when I woke up… I was this.”

“Sob story, I’m sure. I’ve already told Cold to expect us though, so you can save the story for him.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned this person. Who is he? And for that matter, who are you?”

The man chuckled. “My name’s Heatwave. And Cold, well. That’s Captain Cold.”

Cisco’s heart sank. He knew those names. Everyone did. Captain Cold ran the rogues. The most powerful mafia in North America.

He was screwed.

Chapter Text

Knowing there was no way out was one thing. Giving up was another. 

Cisco had decided that the second he got the chance, he was going to bolt. He’d had some blood. He’d be able to survive for a little while without killing anyone. He couldn’t stick around to get caught up with the mafia. 

Heatwave wasn’t giving him many chances though, hauling him up and marching him towards the door. The door opened and Cisco flinched at the first rays of sun, hissing as his skin burned. “Relax, it’s not that bad.” 

“Not that bad??” Cisco hissed, trying to pull away from Heatwave’s grasp. “It burns! How are you not reacting??” 

Heatwave chuckled. “I’m Heatwave, remember? A little sunlight can’t hurt me.” He continued to drag Cisco out the door, towards a car parked a little ways away from the motel door. 

Cisco did his best to place himself between Heatwave and the rising sun, but it was a difficult balance, what with the man tugging him along. By the time they reached the car Cisco was more than willing to throw himself in, anything to get away from the burning light. 

Cisco sucked in a deep breath as the rays of sun finally left his skin, even as he cowered in the backseat. 

“I’d suggest you stay back there,” Heatwave warned. “The front isn’t protected like the back is.” 

Cisco flipped him off, but stayed in the back, crouching between the back of the front seats and the back seats themselves to prevent the rays from reaching him. He glanced up quickly as something landed on the seat. He quickly snagged it, not wanting to risk the sun even though nothing had gotten back to him yet. 

It was a bottle of burn cream, and he quickly applied it to any exposed skin. The relief was instantaneous, and Cisco suspected he’d been handed something stronger than a normal burn cream.

“...Heatwave, sir?” 

A snort from the front seat. “Yeah kid?” He was clearly trying to keep from laughing.

“Aren’t you a vampire?” Cisco asked. 

Heatwave chuckled. “I am. What of it?” 

“Why don’t you burn? And not just your name, I get it, ‘Heatwave doesn’t burn’ and all. But you’re up there sitting in direct sunlight. Have you built up a resistance?” 

“I don’t burn, kid. Not a resistance, not a macho move. I just don’t burn. Different vamps have different powers. Mine’s a complete immunity to all fire-based harm. Flames, sun rays, they’re all the same, and I’m immune to all of them.” 

“I imagine that’s why we’re traveling in the day then? Because you’re immune, and if I try to run I’ll just get burned?” 

“You catch on fast.” 

Cisco sighed, settling in behind the passenger’s seat. “How long till we’re there?” 

“Not telling you that. Same with if you ask where we’re going.” 

“No, I get that. I just… I was just wondering how long we’ll be in the car for.” 

“Hours, at least. Don’t worry though, we won’t be parking outside, so you won’t have to go through the sun to get inside once we’re there.” 

That was… concerning. Then again, Cisco hadn’t exactly had a chance to look in a mirror, he might look completely unnatural now. Wait. 

“Can I not see my reflection?? Do mirrors not acknowledge my presence anymore?!” 

“I don’t know about ‘acknowledging your presence,’ but no. Mirrors won’t show your reflection anymore. So your days of flexing your muscles are over. No mirrors, no ct cameras, no water reflection, none of it.” 

“I don’t- I don’t flex my muscles!” 

Heatwave snorted. “I have yet to meet a straight man who didn’t flex his muscles.”

Cisco kicked the back of the chair. “Hey! I never said I was straight, don’t make assumptions!” He crossed his arms, leaning his head back against the seat, staring out the back window as trees passed by. 

“Fine, that was my mistake. But you should probably sit up properly on the off chance we get in an accident. I already told you, the back’s protected.” 

“What if a sunbeam from the front hits the seat?” 

Heatwave chuckled. “That’s why the back’s warded. No fire gets back there. And nobody tries to leave the warded safety to try and take out the driver.” 

Cisco reluctantly climbed up the seat, gingerly holding his hand out into the sunbeam to test this theory. Sure enough, his hand stayed completely fine. No burning. 

Sighing, he flopped down into the sunbeam. 

“I thought you were a vampire, not a cat.” 

“Shut up, I’m just enjoying what’s probably going to be some of the last sunlight I see for a while. I didn’t get much sunlight down there and I don’t imagine I’ll get much where we’re going either.” 

He was starting to get the feeling Heatwave was more grouchy than anything. He wasn’t going to say ‘all bark no bite’ or ‘not as dangerous as he seemed’ because he definitely was. Someone didn’t just become the second in command of the most powerful mafia in North America without being dangerous. It was just that… Cisco didn’t feel that danger was being directed towards him. Heatwave didn’t see him as that much of a threat, and didn’t treat him as much of one either. Sure, there was the whole ‘being dragged out in the sun’ thing, but that was mostly just a show of force. Proving that if Cisco tried to escape, he wouldn’t go far. 

Cicada had been hiding his threatening demeanor unless he needed it, but it was always directed at him. But Heatwave, he made it very clear just how capable he was of stopping Cisco, and then that was it. He didn’t need to threaten Cisco anymore. 

Cisco vaguely wondered if it was because Heatwave was simply so powerful, he didn’t feel the need to use fear as a weapon. 

Either way, Cisco felt he could doze off in the back seat. It made him appear weaker, and he could conserve all his strength for trying to escape later. 

The lights outside the vehicle were flickering when Cisco woke up, and he sat up to Heatwave opening the door and grabbing his arm to haul him out of the vehicle. 

They were in some kind of parking garage, so no sunlight streamed in, but somehow Cisco knew it wasn’t day anymore. 

“It’s the moon.” 

“What?” 

“You can feel the moon pulling at you. You were too far underground last time, and couldn’t feel it. Above the surface though, you’ll feel her calling you every time she’s up.” 

Ah. That was it then. 

They entered an elevator, and Cisco wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but staring into the mirrors on the back of the door, only to not see himself… it was disconcerting. 

“If you’re all vampires, why do you have mirrors in the elevator?” Cisco wondered. 

“Because not everyone that comes to talk to us is a vamp. Helps to remind them what we are. Throws them off.” 

The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival, and Heatwave stepped off, continuing to drag Cisco further in. 

Cisco was starting to get dizzy, and he wasn’t sure if it was how long it had been since he’d had blood (gross) or if this was another power play. 

Either way, Heatwave wasn’t slowing down, and Cisco struggled to regain his footing as he tripped, and Heatwave sighed, shifting his grip to the back of Cisco’s neck and hauling him up. 

“Come on, we don’t want to be late.” 

Late? “Late for what?” Heatwave didn’t answer, but Cisco had had it, pulling back against Heatwave’s grasp. “No, no what am I doing here, what are you going to do with me-” 

Heatwave’s grip shifted, and the next thing Cisco knew he was slammed against the wall, Heatwave’s hand around his throat. “Listen. Just shut up, keep walking, and if everything goes well we can be done with all of this by the sunrise.”
Cisco swallowed, and nodded. 

Heatwave hauled him off the wall, pushing him forward until they got to a small room that was barely lit. Heatwave shoved him inside, glaring at him till he sat down in one of the chairs. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

With that he closed the door and walked off, leaving Cisco sitting in this strange room.

Chapter Text

Fuck this, Cisco thought to himself, standing up and crossing over to the doors, tugging on them only to find that they were now locked. I’m not going to sit in here and wait for the mafia to decide what to do with me!

The room was small, clearly a waiting room of some form, with thick red carpets and golden accents on the walls, and if he weren’t terrified for his life he’d probably appreciate the theme of it all. But right now he only cared about one thing.

The power outlets.

There was far too much metal- whether it was real or not- in this room to also have a power outlet in the room.

Cisco pried one of the outlets off, shocked when it worked- I’m a vampire now. Everything I know about myself has changed- and he was able to tug one of the decals off the wall, taking a breath.

Here goes nothing.

He slammed the decal into the outlet, delighted when the lights in the whole room flickered, and went out, even if his fingers got shocked for his effort.

At the same time, the buzzing in his head got quieter, and he had to wonder. Was the buzzing in his head after all? Or was his hearing just so good now that he could hear electricity?

Either way, it was time for him to get out of here.

He turned back to the door- only to remember.

Manual lock. Not electric.

The door was still locked.

…But, he was a vampire now. He was supposedly strong…

Three kicks to the hinges later, and the door was no longer a problem.

Cisco slipped out of the room, and realized that not only was power off in the entirety of this section of the building, but he could see in the dark.

He knew there was someone back the way they’d come, so he took off down the other direction.

Without the lights, the corridor looked far less grand, and instead everything looked rather… creepy.

It was fitting, given that this was the home of a mafia. That was apparently run by vampires.

Freak out later, escape now.

Health and safety rules were pretty universal. If there was an elevator, there needed to be a flight of stairs in case of a fire. He just needed to find the stairs, and make his way out.

The hallways seemed to stretch on without end, but Cisco kept running.

He didn’t know when his escape would be discovered, but he needed to get out before-

There was someone in the corridor in front of him.

Pale blue eyes met his, and he turned, bolting in the other direction.

Stop running.

The voice was inside his own head.

It was as though his mind had frozen over, refusing to even suggest disobeying that voice.

Steps walked towards him, and a hand gripped his chin, tilting his head to the side so he could stare into the same pale blue eyes.

“You’re a little troublemaker, aren’t you?” The voice was the same as the one in his head.

A hand gripped his wrist, and his mind was his again.

“What the- hey! ” The man began walking, hauling him back down the hall, and Cisco tugged uselessly against his grip.

“Mick said you were trouble, but this is more than even I had anticipated.”

Mick?

Who was this guy, that he was on a first name basis with Heatwave?

Unless…

“You’re Captain Cold,” Cisco managed.

“And you’re the fledgling that’s been causing so much trouble.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Answers.”

Cold dragged him through the hall, not saying a word as they walked. As they did, the power flickered back on, and Cisco winced as he got a good look at the man dragging him along.

Or, rather, vampire.

He was a good head taller than Cisco, with a fuzzy head of cropped hair, and solid muscles that offered no give as Cisco struggled flutily against him.

“I don’t know anything, I can’t answer any questions.”

Cold didn’t answer him, instead dragging him to a set of double doors, pushing them open and shoving Cisco inside, before slamming the doors closed behind them.

Cisco stumbled, barely managing to keep himself upright as he took in the room.

A pale light shone down from the ceiling, and Cisco instinctively knew it was moonlight. There were people seated behind an ornate railing that surrounded the room, and he was standing on a marble floor on the other side of the railing.

The only other person on this side of the railing was Cold, who walked over to the only chair on this side of the railing- more a throne than a chair- and sprawled across it.

It somehow reminded him of a courtroom, but round, with all the witnesses pressed against the wall.

“Let’s get this started, shall we?” Cold leaned back, his tone as cold as his name. “State your name for the council.”

Cisco swallowed. “Cisco Ramon.”

“And do you know where you were found?” Cisco shook his head. “Speak. Not everyone here has eyes.”

Ah.

He cleared his throat. “No, I don’t. I don’t know what’s happening with any-“

Cold raised a hand, and he stopped talking. “You were found in Cicada’s lair. What were you doing there?”

This was really starting to feel like a courtroom. “I was kidnapped, walking home one night.”

Cold nodded, clearly already having heard this. “Were you a vampire when you were taken?”

He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t.”

“And had you heard of vampires, beyond Hollywood and other stories, before that night.”

Again, he shook his head. “No.”

There were murmurs among the crowd watching, and Cisco was sure if he tried, he could hear what they were saying, but he was still too new to these powers to have a chance at understanding how to use them.

“Did you see anyone else while you were there?”

“Once.”

“And what happened?”

Cisco shuddered, remembering the poor girl. “…Cicada dragged her into the cell… expected me to ‘feed’ from her. When I refused, he dragged her out.”

“So not another vampire.”

He shook his head. “No.”

Cold nodded slowly, standing up and turning in a circle, addressing the rest of the room. “Over the course of three months, there were over fifteen disappearances that can be linked to Cicada. People taken from alleys, bodies found with strange teeth indentations that clearly link back to a vampire’s bite, and some of the more ‘paranormal’ experts are starting to toss around the idea of vampires. The human police forces have even started calling him ‘Dracula’. This was all brought to my attention by an emissary of Garrick’s. After investigating, Heatwave and I hunted down Cicada, and ended him, finding this fledgling in his lair.”

Cold stopped, and turned back to Cisco. “You didn’t know what vampires were, when you were taken. You did not feed, when he instructed you to. Did you ask to be turned?”

Cisco shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

Cold turned back to the rest of the council. “You’ve all heard it. Does anyone have any grievances they wish to air over my actions in killing Cicada?”

One of the vampires on the other side of the railing stood up. “The Devoe Clan finds no fault in your actions.”

Another stood up, and another, all repeating similar sentiments.

…This was a courtroom.

Cisco felt something ease inside him at the knowledge.

He was here as a witness, attesting to the horrible things Cicada had done.

He could work with that.

Then Cold’s eyes turned on Cisco, and he found himself frozen to the spot. “…Now what to do with you,” Cold muttered to himself, so quiet Cisco wasn’t sure if anyone else in the room had even heard him.

Cold grabbed him by the wrist again, pulling him out of the room through a smaller door behind where the throne like chair was.

Once they were in a smaller room off the main one, Cold turned and looked Cisco up and down. “Well. It’s been a crazy month for you, hasn’t it Cisco Ramon?”

Cisco winced at the use of his full name. “…What do you plan to do with me?”

“That is the question, isn’t it…” Cold stared at him for a few moments, before nodding. “We’ll make sure you’re set up somewhere nearby, where we can keep an eye on you for the first year, make sure you don’t kill anyone. Your old life is pretty much gone now. The police will assume you died the night you were taken, and- honestly, they’re not wrong. As a vampire, you’re not really ‘alive’ anymore, and you won’t die the normal way either. Welcome to immortality.”

“…That’s it? ” Cisco asked, incredulous.

“Pretty much.”

“But- but I’m different now- I know I’m different- Shouldn’t you be helping me figure this out?”

"I told you. We'll make sure you don't kill anyone, and can feed safely."

"What about those powers? How about teaching me how to not get mind controlled by anyone anymore?"

Cold smirked. “I could. In exchange for something.”

He swallowed. “...What would you want?”

Cold’s fingers gripped his chin, lifting his head up as he backed him against the wall. “…One night. You’d be mine, for one night, to do anything I wanted to.” Cold pushed one leg forward, between Cisco’s legs, making it very clear what he wanted, and Cisco swallowed.

“…That really something you don’t have to explain to your council out there? Getting it on with a fledgling?”

Cold chuckled. “Please. Half of all fledglings are made by their lovers. It’s expected that I’ll fuck my own fledgling.”

Cisco blinked. “… your fledgling?” he asked.

Cold nodded down to Cisco’s arm. With the snowflakes, in the shape of a bite. “Your sire died while you were still a fledgling. If I hadn’t, there was a risk you would have gone feral from the pain.”

He swallowed. “…What does that mean though? Being your fledgling?”

“I just told you what it means. It means, to everyone in that council, that you’re mine. So. Do you really want to find out what that means? To study what it is a vampire can do, and in exchange, give yourself to me?”

What was left of Cisco’s pulse seemed to echo in his head as he considered it. This was the head of a mafia. Someone with power and no moral compass so to speak, who could do anything he wanted to Cisco.

…But with his powers, he could do that already. And if Cisco didn’t do this, then he was still at risk of anyone being able to control him.

Cold shook his head, and stepped back. “I’ll send Mick to come find you, and take you to a safe house. Someone’ll be out tomorrow to help you learn to control your hunger-“

“I’ll do it.”