Title: Mistaken Identity
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Josef Kostan/Mick St. John
Fandom: Moonlight
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,611
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Josef Kostan or Mick St. John, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

"So, have you always been Josef, or was your real name Charles when you were human?" Mick asked, leaning back against the cushions of the comfortable couch in Josef's living room. "I can't see you as being Charles. You'll always be Josef to me."

His boyfriend shook his head as he moved to the couch, handing Mick a crystal goblet filled with blood. "You'll probably be disappointed to find out that I was Charles Fitzgerald when I was human. I didn't keep that name for long, though."

"When did you become Josef Kostan?" Mick asked, curious to find out more about his boyfriend's former life. He hadn't gotten Josef to open up about parts of his life, and he somehow felt that he was on the verge of finding out much more about the man he loved than he ever had before.

Josef shrugged, sitting down on the couch and regarding Mick with a steady gaze. "I didn't want to be known by my real name any longer. That name reminded me of what my last night as a human was like. How weak and helpless I was then."

"That night was what, seven against one?" Mick asked, his heart aching for the other man. Josef would always bear scars from the night he'd been turned, no matter how much time passed. Some scars might be buried, but they would always exist.

"Yeah." Josef's voice was cold, clipped. He looked away from Mick, lifting his glass and tossing back the contents in two gulps before he set it on the coffee table with a thump. "What do you want to know about my life as a human? It was nothing much, believe me."

"I find that hard to believe," Mick scoffed, reaching out to run gentle fingers down Josef's smooth cheek. "If I'd been around then and I'd seen you, I guarantee you that I would have fallen in love at first sight. Might not have admitted it, but I'd have worshiped you from afar."

"You think so?" Josef smiled wryly, shaking his head. "I doubt it. I wasn't much in those days. I was a nobody, a nothing. A servant born of a servant's family. Even though I had higher aspirations -- and they weren't out of place, either."

"Yeah?" Mick's interest was caught, wondering what Josef meant by those words. "Were you having a passionate affair with somebody of higher rank, or something?" His brow furrowed as he tried to think of what Josef could possibly mean; that seemed the most probably explanation.

Josef was still smiling, raising a brow in question. "You really don't know what I mean, do you?" he asked, looking amused. "Mick, do you know what the 'Fitz' of a British name from that time period meant? No, it's pretty obvious you don't have a clue."

Mick shook his head, completely bewildered as to what Josef meant. "It's just a name, isn't it? I've never thought anything about it. I'm guessing that parts of names could have different meanings back in those days than they do in the modern world."

"You'd guess right," Josef told him with a rueful laugh. "Having 'Fitz' tacked onto your last name meant that you were born on the 'wrong side of the blanket.' A bastard, in other words. My mom had a roll in the sack with the master of the house. I was the result."

"And that's why you were never really accepted," Mick whispered as understanding dawned on him. No wonder Josef seemed so focused on amassing wealth and keeping it. He'd grown up a servant -- but he'd always known what his antecedents were.

"You hit the nail right on the head," Josef said, his tone dry. "I was the bastard who had to be tolerated, but who didn't have all the rights and privileges that the legitimate kids did. And my mother never bothered to hide who I was. She was proud of it."

"She used you to get favors and privileges, didn't she?" Mick asked softly, feeling as though his heart was being squeezed in his chest. He could only imagine what it had been like for Josef as a little boy, growing up in that kind of an environment.

"Yeah." Josef didn't meet Mick's gaze; instead, he looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. "My father didn't particularly want another kid that he'd have to foster, so he denied all paternity. Even though he knew the truth of it, he didn't want to be bothered with me."

"So after you were turned, you wanted to leave all of that behind," Mick continued, almost wishing that he hadn't brought up this conversation, but still wanting to know about his lover's past. "I don't blame you for that. Anybody would want to put that behind them."

"Oh, I did. In more ways than one." Josef's laugh was bitter, self-deprecating. "I did something that I'm not proud of -- but I can't say I'm completely ashamed of it, either. Something that nobody should have done, but I felt like I had the right after all the years of shame."

"What did you do?" Mick asked, his attention caught by the look on Josef's face. It was though his lover was made of granite -- he was so still and pale, his features so hard and set that he looked as though he'd been carved in stone. "Was that when you, in your words, 'went crazy'?"

"Yeah, it was." Josef sighed and finally looked over at him, his eyes meeting Mick's and holding the other man's gaze. "I killed a lot of people. Not because I had to -- for revenge against all the wrongs I'd suffered when I was human. And my father was the first."

Mick's breath caught in his throat at Josef's words, his eyes widening. "Y-you killed your own father?" he gasped, unable to believe that the man he loved could have done such a thing. "What did he do to you to make you take that kind of revenge on him?"

"He was the leader of the men who raped me," Josef almost snarled, his words chilling Mick's blood. "He told me when he was inside me that it was the only thing a bastard child was good for, and that he was going to get his money's worth from me."

Mick reached for Josef, pulling the other man into his arms and cradling his lover against his chest. He might not approve of what Josef had done -- but he couldn't find it in his heart to blame the other man for the form his revenge had taken.

Anyone would want to make that monster pay for what he'd done. And even though he might wish that Josef's revenge had been a case of mistaken identity, something told him that it wasn't. His boyfriend had hunted down his own father mercilessly, and ended his life.

"You couldn't have made a mistake, could you?" he whispered, wishing that he could believe that. Josef hadn't mistaken his own father's identity. He might have been drive by rage and a thirst for revenge at the time, but he wouldn't make that kind of a mistake.

"No, Mick, I didn't." Josef's voice was clear and firm as he pulled back from his lover's embrace to meet his gaze squarely. "I knew he was one of the men who raped me, and I hunted him down purposely. I knew what I was doing. I didn't mistake who he was. I couldn't."

"It doesn't matter," Mick told him, taking Josef's face between his hands and gazing deeply into the other man's eyes. "I love you, Josef. I don't care what you've done in the past. You own my heart and soul, and you always will. The past is in the past. All I care about is our future."

This time, it was Josef's turn to move towards Mick, slipping his arms around his lover's waist and resting his forehead against Mick's shoulder. "Thank you," he said softly, his heart in his words. "I wondered if you could ever forgive me for that."

"There's nothing to forgive you for," Mick said simply, raising his lover's face to his so that their gazes met again and brushing the hair back from Josef's face. "You're still my Josef, no matter what your real name might be. Charles Fitzgerald, Josef Kostan, whatever. I don't care."

"Maybe one day I'll tell you how I chose Josef Kostan as a name," his boyfriend told him, flashing that insouciant smile that Mick so loved. "I have German in my family history somewhere. So it wasn't a big step to that name. And anyway, I like how it looks."

"I like how you look right now, Mr. Kostan," Mick whispered, leaning forward so that his lips were almost touching Josef's. "But I think you'd look better out of those clothes, spread out on your bed under me, moaning my name when you come."

"Then I think you'd better follow me to the bedroom, Mr. St. John," Josef answered, his lips curving into a smile as he stood up and held out his hand. Mick took the proffered hand, getting up and following Josef into the bedroom, pushing aside the night's revelations and only thinking about the immediate future.

***