Snow pours endlessly from the night sky. Frolicing daintily in the subtle wind in their descent. Engel stood there at the front with his frame silhouetted against the dim glow of the hallway lights behind him. In his hands were two mugs of hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows.
"You two! Your drinks are going to get cold!" He shouted over from the front porch.
"Hold on! We are almost finished." Prosperous shouted back as little five-year-old Amy finally gave the snowman pebbles for eyes and a mouth, before adding the finishing touch - a carrot for a nose. Engel rolled his eyes and smiled at the sight of them. Amy was wrapped up from head to toe in warm, pink overalls. Red mittens covered her small hands. And a white beanie for her head. Her face was flushed with a rose tint, whereas Engel and Prosper could barely feel it.
Prosper pulls out his phone with Amy standing next to it, smiling, showcasing her baby fangs, next to her first snowman. He turns the phone to Amy, showing the picture in excitement. She beams at the photo and runs to hug her dad. He picks her up and spins her around, both laughing toegther in the moment, before he accidentally trips and falls back into the deep blanket of snow, with Amy landing on top of him.
They continue to laugh again.
She falls back into the snow as the two of them begin making snow angels. Engel huffs and turns back inside to put the drinks inside, refusing to wait for them any longer. Prosperous looks up at the starlit penumbra and points at the stars in the sky.
"Just think to yourself, no matter where we will be in the world, we will always share the same sky." Amy stares at the moon and stars in awe. Her red eyes were taking in the vast entirety of the stars and constellations laid out before her.
She then turns to him.
Then we won´t be alone."
"Exactly," Prosper smiles.
"You two! Don´t let me tell you again." Engel shouts again.
The two giggle mischievously.
"Race you." Prosper exclaims in excitement. They both scramble to their feet, and Amy dashed ahead as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Prosper pretends to be out of breath and trips again, as little Amy races over to the front porch.
She jumps up and down in front of the doorway.
"Beat you!" She sticks out her tongue at her dad, lying face-first in the snow, and runs into the house. He could hear Engel's voice very faintly telling Amy to take her coat and boots off, trying to stop leaving trails of snow in the house.
He returns to the doorway with his arms folded, and tilts his head to the side.
"How long are you going to lie there?"
The elf lifts his head and smiles playfully.
"Just give me a second." He chuckles and straightens his back.
He trudges through the snow and meets his husband at the door, waiting for him in expectation. Tapping his foot on the wooden floorboards. Just as they stood face to face, Engel smirks and gives him a sly, knowing side glance before turning around, but before he could do so, the elf grabs his wrist. Prosper pulls him into his chest and then pushes him up against the front door with a dull thud, as his lips melt vehemently into his. Pushing his heat further. Feeling the restive and painful tension building up between his legs. Tempted to take him there and then. They break contact, and both gasp a little for air, looking deep into each other's eyes. The image of his low-lidded crimson gaze and parted lips burned into his mind. The elf knew that look anywhere. Maybe having a third kid wouldn´t be so bad, he thought to himself. The subject had been on their minds for a while. Then both of their trances were broken when they both heard.
"PAPA! DAD! SILAS HAS SET THE TOILET ON FIRE AGAIN!!
***
Prosper's eyes snap open in an instant, breaking into a cold sweat. His nails rake and clutch the sides of the sofa as his gaze meets the whimsical, pale ceiling and the hanging golden chandelier.
The room was still dark, even without the curtains drawn to a close. He forced himself to sit up. His throat felt parched, and his mouth was dry. He leans over to take a hasty sip of water from the coffee table. He had fallen asleep in Engel´s reading nook.
The elf gets onto his feet with a slight waver and slowly moves over to the windows. He draws the curtains, even if it is night out. With all that has happened, he didn´t feel like allowing so much as a glimpse into their home. Everything still felt so raw.
He quickly searched for his mobile phone on the coffee table next to his glass of water and looked at his phone screen to see that it read 3:00 am.
He couldn´t see himself going back to sleep, not after the dream he just had. This just means more time to himself until he is ready to leave the house, but first, coffee. And Plenty of it. But just as he was about to turn around to go into the kitchen, he sees a figure in his peripheral vision.
He quickly turns around with eyes wide in alarm
"Engel?" Then he sees that no one was there. He massages his temples and whispers to himself
"I think I am starting to lose it."
***
As the night continues to draw on and dead hour dawns.
Doctor Summerset chose to oversee the night shift, assigning a team leader to the night staff in the psychiatric ward. It is very rare for them to have such a high-profile character such as Engel under their watch and care.
He found it oddly touching that the detective chose to have him addmitted him here instead of having him receive the death sentence. The doctor had always found these trifling emotions amusing and at the same time a nuisance, but this spectacle of seeing the weight of his confliction etched into his face was worth the visit.
But what was all the more thrilling to the doctor was the fact that this was the first time he had ever had such a specimen as Engel Darkbourne. He roamed the hallways, eyeing each door that was assigned to each patient before he came to face the same familiar steel door.
He dials in the passcode and allows the machine to scan his face before entering. After verifying his identity via facial scan, the door opens abruptly. He walks in with his head held high and in stride. The room was dark, but in the centre of the room was a cubic container, acting as a freezer - containing his coffin.
He could almost see his sleeping face with his breathing mask. The doctor couldn't believe such a specimen was in his hands, and yet he could do nothing. He bit his nails. This troubled and frustrated him greatly; then he forced himself to be rid of these thoughts for now. He diverted his attention to the monitor keeping track of his vitals. Making sure that everything is as it should be. Calm. Quiet.
His brain wave activity was also silent until a sudden spike appeared. The doctor frowned and took his glasses off to clean them and put them back on, not quite believing what he saw.
He proceeded to run a diagnostic on the machinery. Perhaps this was a glitch? Either way, there is no place for error, not while he is overseeing this ward. Then all of a sudden, a pair of pale arms comes over his shoulders and pulls him into a cold, ghostly embrace. A soft, masculine voice whispers into his ear.
"What's the matter, doctor? You look a little nervous."
The doctor spins around on his heel with eyes wide in alarm, and his glasses leaning to one side of his face, becoming crooked. Flustered in the moment. Feeling the sweat beading on his forehead and his heart thumping against his chest.
But then he sees nothing.
There was no sign of anyone behind him.
He straightened his glasses and turned around to face the tank again. Nothing has changed. No movement. Nothing. He checked the monitors again to check his brainwave activity. Everything seemed stable, calm, and showed no sign of abnormality.
He massages his temples. Unsure of what to think.
Was it really a figment of his imagination?
Was it because he become overenthusatic about their newest resident? He narrowed his gaze at the vampire's sleeping face, and his lips formed a firm, hard-pressed line. He quickly pressed the button on the metal desk adjacent to the tank, turning the speaker on. "All personnel. Tighten all security. Make sure everything is locked and secure. Make sure that no one can get out," he commanded through the speaker. He took his finger off the button and then stared back at the subject frozen in stasis before him.
***
After three coffees this morning, Prosper now stands in his co-worker's office, with dark circles under his eyes and the time reading—9:01 am. The door opens behind him, and Detective Adams walks in with some papers in hand.
"Morning, detective." Prospwe greets her.
"Likewise. You look like you slept rough last night." She says as she takes a sip from her mug of coffee and lays the papers down on the front of her desk.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" He asked, determined to get to the point.
She turned around to face him and casually leaned against the front of the desk. There was a pause. The agent could feel her sudden reluctance.
"You can be plain with me, detective." He said, trying to reassure her.
She sighed and took another sip from her mug.
"The higher-ups wanted me to talk to you. Due to what has happened recently regarding your Husband, Engel. You are now under scrutiny. They deem you suspicious. They want you under house arrest until further notice, just as a protocol. To make sure you are not hiding anything."
His heart ached again. As if the revelation of his husband being a criminal mastermind wasn't enough to deal with. The higher-ups and co-workers do not even trust him either.
Never had he felt so ostracized until now, but he bit his lip instead. It's better to keep his thoughts to himself and comply for now than to create more mess.
As much as he felt betrayed, the best thing he could do was do as they say until things blow over.
"I'm sorry that it has come to this. I wish things could have been different, but orders are still orders. You know what they are like."
Choosing his words very carefully, he pauses before speaking again.
"Is there anything else I should know while I am here?"
"If anything new comes up, we will be in contact. But don't try anything smart and go around using your powers; they have eyes and ears everywhere. They will be monitoring you to make sure you do not do anything suspicious, " she warned.
"Very well. I will take my leave then." He gives her an affirmative nod and then leaves the office. He signs out, recording the time he arrived and left before setting out to return home. The only place he can return to. There was already a police car waiting outside the station for him, ready to take him back.
He sits in the back and scrolls through his list of contacts, looking through his old messages. He hasn't heard from either Amy or Silas. The news of Engels' capture and detainment has already spread amongst the press.
He quietly dwells on the notion of whether it would be wise to contact Amy and Silas. His phone might already be rigged without him knowing. If he were to check and trigger anything, it could raise an alarm. He sees the driver peer into the front mirror, eyeing him in the back.
"Is everything ok back there?"
"Yes, officer. I am just thinking about having another coffee when I get back."
The officer at the front doesn't say anything, and Prosper stares out of the window, watching the city skyscrapers and people passing by during rush hour in a blur; then he looks down at the wedding ring on his finger. He twists it while keeping his head down in silence.
With all that has happened, he wasn't joking about that extra cup of coffee.
Perhaps with ice this time.
If that doesn't suffice, maybe whisky will do...