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It was all that he had needed. He felt much better. His hair had taken on it's usual reddish-brown color. He looked healthier. He smiled at Fawn, his pointed teeth making an appearance for only the second time since he was changed. She smiled back. Then pulled out her phone and checked the time. Late.



"I think I'm gonna go. It'll be daylight soon. I'll tell the nurse to keep the curtains drawn." she said.



"Ok. Will you come back tomorrow?"



"Yes."



"Ok."



"See you soon."



She patted the railing of the bed and stood up. As soon as she was out of the room, the smell of lavendar, chamomile, and vanilla filled the air.



"Hi Fawnie!" Gina said enthusiastically.



Fawn's eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden visit. She was beginning to get tired of Gina pestering her all the time. She wanted her to go to sleep, at least for a while.



Gina had begun to keep her up at night, wisping into her room just as she was about to fall asleep. She always made noise, knocking things over, banging on the walls. Nobody seemed to hear it except her. Not even Carlos. Fawn tried everything to put her at peace. Laid fresh roses on her grave, read to her, sang to her.



Nothing helped. She should have asked Carlos what to do.



"....your shoes in the Doc Marten box. Fawn? Hello Fawn hello," Gina had been talking, but Fawn hadn't noticed. But she was now waving her hand in her face. Fawn shook the clouds of thought away.



"Jeez what is it? No wait, we can't talk here. Follow me."



She led Gina back to her car, and once they were inside, she turned on the heat and put her hand over the vent.



"Ok. Now what is it?" Fawn asked.



Gina blinked.



"Oh yeah," she said. "I missed you Fawnie!"



Fawn smiled, then sighed and turned back to the vent. Her face dropped. Gina noticed.



"What is it Fawn? You never seem happy to see me anymore." Her voice had turned to stone. The cold words bit at Fawn's cheeks, making her wince. She wanted Gina to leave. To sleep. Finally sleep, sleep, sleep.



"Gina, I want you to go back. Go back to where you belong. Please."



Gina's expression crumbled.



"I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you. You think it's easy? To be able to visit you like this? It took a lot of work."



"You're dead. You aren't here you aren't supposed to BE here. You're supposed to be....well wherever it is you go. Cross over. Go. Just leave me alone. I need to forget about you. And you need to forget about me."



Gina turned and stared at the dashboard, her eyes glistening with sadness. She vanished, taking the smell of lavender with her. Fawn shook her head and started the engine. As she drove, the sun rose up over the horizon, slowly lighting up the sky in bewitching shades of pink and orange.



When she had been human, she had enjoyed watching the sunrise, scrambling out of bed every morning to sit by the window and welcome daylight. Now it just gave her a headache. She took her sunglasses out of her bag and put them on. As she pulled into Forsythia's driveway, she lowered her window so she could hear the crackling of the gravel under the wheels. How she loved the sound. She sat in the car for an extra few minutes, just until the sun became too much to bear.



She was exhausted. When she let herself in, Forsythia and Darius were already asleep. She slowly dragged herself up the stairs and into her room, where Kora was patiently waiting for her on the bed. She didn't dare look in Carlos' room. She didn't feel much like seeing the disaster that it had become. She got into bed with all of her clothes on, and Kora climbed up to her pillow and purred Fawn to sleep. Carlos would be home in about a week, the nurse had told her. In a week. A week. Tomorrow she would visit him again, and the next day and the next day and the next after that until he shuffled out of the sterile room and out into the cold.



But something didn't seem right. Something seemed....there.

He slept through the entire night and half of the next day. He slept through the nurse rewrapping his bandages. He slept through his roommate's loud conversation with a visitor. He slept, slept, slept. Slept until, that is, Fawn came into the room. She pulled up the chair that had been pushed a few feet from the bed and sat down. Looked at him. Rubbed the ruby in his dragon necklace.



He slept peacefully, chest rising gently up and down. She almost felt bad, waking him up. Almost. She pressed her fingers onto his forehead and concentrated.



In his dream, he and the girl danced and danced in the middle of this arid field. What a great time he was having, he never wanted to wake up. Surely though, he thought, he must have only been sleeping for a little while. It amazed him that in a dream, an entire lifetime of a person could fit into just a few minutes of reality. And the best part was that he could do whatever it is he wanted. He could rob a bank, kill a man, and nobody would do anything about it. Because it didn't matter. It was a dream. And he was the master.



Until it happened. He first noticed it over her shoulder, where his head was resting. Thin veins of crimson spurted in the sky, reaching down, reaching to the bare branches of the tree. He felt her tense. Then, as if it was an egg being crushed, the ground began to tremble, and he felt his new companion tremble with it.



Slowly, she broke apart, her limbs falling away from the rest of her. Falling apart in his hands. Before he could say anything, he was back in the hospital. The bed. And sitting beside it was Fawn. She had her fingers on his forehead; she must have shut down his dream. But how? He cleared his throat.



"Hi..."



"Hey"



"How did you- were you- I was having a dream."



"I know. I took it away."



"Why?"



"I just...I wanted to give you something."





She opened her palm, revealing the tiny dragon. A look of confusion crossed his face. Then it contorted with anger. He scowled at her, the anger boiling in the pit of his stomach.



"You stole my necklace?" he said.



Fawn looked shocked. She hadn't even thought of a response like this. Her mouth popped open, closed, then opened again.



"I didn't steal it," she answered. "It fell off of you when they were wheeling you in."



He gave a sarcastic laugh.



"Right," he said, ripping off the covers, "So you expect me to believe," He got up, "That the necklace just FLEW off my neck! RIGHT."



She looked at him, her eyes wide. Confused.



"Well, I don't know. But I picked it up for you." She held out the necklace.



"Give me that." He violently snatched it out of her hand, making her jump.



He pulled the IV machine with him to the window and put it on, staring outside. He turned around to find her staring down at her palm. She looked up.



"What's happening to you?" she asked, flashing her hand at him.



There was a deep red scratch where he had cut her. As the blood pushed out, her pale white skin slowly stitched together behind it. His eyes glittered with thirst. He wanted it. He needed it. But no one would give him any here. Fawn quickly recognized that look and curled her hand into a fist. She got it now. She looked him over and realized things that she hadn't before. His eyes were a deep red. Where his hair had not been torn out of the follicle, there were streaks of stark white. He looked....haggard. Ill. And there was nothing she could do.



"Look, I know you're thirsty but if you really want to get out of here, you need to rest. Ok? And I'll leave."



She started to get up from the chair, when he worriedly toddled away from the window.



"Wait! I-I'm sorry. Don't leave. Stay. STAY."



He reached out a hand. Shook it, as if it would keep her there somehow. She quietly sat down and gestured to the bed. He wheeled the machine back and laid down again. Stared at his dust town again. Fawn dug around in her bag and pulled out a travel bottle. She took the cup on the bedside table and poured some of the liquid from the bottle into it. She held it out to Carlos. He could smell it from the three feet it was from his face. O negative. That smell.



He took the cup in his trembling hands, brought it to his face, and inhaled deeply. That wonderful smell. Not of rust and salt as it would be to a human, but of honey, chocolate, all the beautiful things. But among those smells was the unmistakable smell of a human. Of the living. He downed the contents of the cup, then of the travel container. It was enough to keep him satisfied, and he sad back. His eyes shifted to a sweet, rich caramel color. The blood had been cold, but he didn't care.

He finally caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder. She spun around and her eyes grew wide. An angry look then crossed her face.



"What the hell are you doing? Get back in there!"



"No! We are going to talk about this NOW!"



They were being loud, and so Fawn grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him aside. Her whispers were sharp and angry.



"Carlos I SWEAR, if you do NOT get back in that hospital bed, I WILL NOT listen to ANYTHING you have to say!"



He yanked his arm from her iron grasp.



"What's your problem anyway?" he said, trying his best to match Fawn's anger.



"You know what Carlos," she answered, "Right now, YOU'RE my problem. Now GET back in that room."



By this time, a few nurses had gathered and were gently guiding him back to his room. He looked at Fawn for the whole journey back down the hall. His expression was that of confusion, twisted with anger and worry. The nurses helped him back into his bed and while they threatened to tie him up if he did it again, he stared at the ceiling, his mind filled with blankness.



One nurse stayed to re-insert his IV needle, check his wounds, and rebandaged them. She then left him, still watching the ceiling. He had found a small crack in it, and imagined a possible village of small people inside of it. He imagined their houses, their small, dust-built houses. He imagined a certain appearane for each and every citizen, along with a name. He had started to make up a story about his tiny dust village, when he felt himself being pulled into a deep sleep.



There she was. She was standing in the middle of a room. A dark, musty room. There was a table in the middle of this room, and on it stood a pitcher, a candle, and a wine glass. She sat behind the table, her hands folded, waiting. He slowly walked toward her and sat down on the other side of this table. A sly smile spread across her face, and she suddenly lashed out, her hand gripping his shoulder with an icy grasp.



He gasped and his eyes snapped open. Sure enough, there was a hand on his shoulder. A cold, cold hand. He slowly turned his head. A slender hand, nails painted a deep red, had it's long fingers curled around the bony part of his shoulder. His eyes traveled up the arm, connected to the torso, connected to a head. On which there was a face, staring down at him. Sheri's face. His eyes widened.



"Sheri?! What are you doing here?"



"When you get out of here, the first thing you do is come to the meeting place. That I showed you. Do you understand?"



"Wait what-"



"DO you understand?"



"Yes but-"



"Very well."



She rose from the chair beside the bed and began to leave.



"Wait," he said, "You aren't staying? I haven't seen you in who knows how long." He sat up.



She looked at him, bandaged and bruised. She sighed.



"Blessed be, Carlos Amiel Hentze," she said, and left.



He sat wide eyed and confused. Laid down again. Continued with his dust world. If he cooperated, he would be out of there in no time. Yes. He would be out. He would be free.



He rolled over and let the arm with the IV fall over the side of the bed. This was the first he had noticed that there was a sensor on his finger monitoring his heartbeat. How had he missed this? It didn't matter. He became curious, rolling back over onto his back. With his other arm, he carefully slid his finger out of the device. He then heard the long, continuous beep that signaled heart failure, and quickly slid it back on.



He sunk down in his bed and closed his eyes, slightly afraid that a nurse would come running in and tie his wrists to the bed. He was supposed to be cooperative. So he would be. After all, the more cooperative he was, the sooner he would get better. He spent the next ten minutes trying to touch the tip of his nose with his tongue. Then spent the next ten playing Bulleribock on the bed railing. It was terribly boring, as the bed did not play back.



He closed his eyes again. Fell asleep. Was jolted awake by his own mind. Fell asleep again. This time, she was sitting in an empty, barren field. She sat with her back to him, in front of a large, leafless tree.

As she began to sob, Darius pulled her out into the hall. The amount of tension in the room was much noticed, as Carlos stared at his hands. He could hear Darius speaking quietly, trying to calm Forsythia. He stole a peek at Fawn. She sat staring at the doorway. He heard the sound of his sister's high heels moving steadily down the hallway, her voice fading with them. He looked back down at his hands, then again at Fawn, this time studying her hands. She was scraping down the length of one thumbnail with the other. It looked painful, so he glanced up at her face. Still looking at the door.



He continued to keep his eyes on her, and slowly reached for the carton of apple juice the nurse had placed on the table next to him. He spent an extra eight minutes deciding on whether or not he wanted a straw. He finally got annoyed with himself and grabbed the straw. He sipped the juice slowly, all the while studying Fawn. She finally noticed him staring and tilted her head to the side.



"What?"



"Nothing."



"Liar."



"Just....I don't know you seemed lost in thought."



Her eyes swept to the side, shifting to the floor. Her thumb was at it again. Carlos chewed his straw as his eyes darted from one random part of the room to another. Her silence was making him uncomfortable. She shifted her eyes again to his feet, two identical heaps under the bedsheet. She decided to make this her point of focus as she spoke.



"It's just....I don't know, I just don't know how you keep getting sick or hurt. It's like we- YOU are just plagued with sucky luck. And I meant to ask you..." The heaps twitched. "What's the deal with Sheri? I mean I'm sure it's none of my business but you seemed to be hitting it off with the pet store girl."



He laughed, causing the sheet heaps to waggle back and forth. She pulled her hair into a sloppy bun while she waited for him to finish giggling like a mental patient. When he was, he wiped his eyes.



"Well we weren't exactly together...and I haven't seen her in a long while so-"



"So you just go looking for some oth-"



"NO I do NOT. Hey what's your problem anyway? You've been a total b-"



He stopped when he saw her glaring coldly at him, looking a bit teary eyed. He sighed.



"That's not what I meant, ok? It's just that...well I don't know I kinda like Niki."



"Niki."



"Yes."



"That's her name then."



"Well....well yeah."



"You barely know her."



"I know. Ever heard of love at first sight?"



"Bullshit."



"WHAT? Fawn...."



Fawn stood abruptly and started toward the door. He looked around, confused.



"W- FAWN!" He threw the covers off and lifted himself off the bed. He began to walk, when he felt a sharp pain in his arm. He looked back and realized that he was still hooked up to the IV. He ripped the off the medical tape that held it in place, frustrated.



The large needle swung gently to and fro as he walked away. He wasn't exactly walking, more like lifting himself along. Like he was a puppet, controlled by strings attatched to every limb. Nontheless, he shuffled across the room to the door, his football player roommate staring open-mouthed. He lifted his hand, pointing to Carlos.



"Hey! Hey dude! DUDE!" Carlos stopped in the doorway. Turned around slowly.



"What man?"



"Well could ya get me out of this thing?! I can't move and I've got a game later! C'mon man please? Please."



Carlos stared at him, dumbfounded. He was in multiple casts, had bandages covering every inch of skin. It was a surprise they could even get his IV in. Carlos felt bloated himself from the fluids they had pumped into him. He gripped the doorframe with both hands, trying not to fall over.



"Um, no. I will not," he answered.



The man's face changed. From plain stupid, to confused, to angry.



"Fine," he said, reaching for the red button. "I'll just call the nurse then, and tell her pretty boy over here left his bed."



Carlos stared at him with a blank expression. He would never catch Fawn with this idiot holding him up.



"And I will tell her the only reason her ass is up here is because the overgrown infant over here is trying to get me to help him out of HIS bed. I don't fucking care, dude. Would you like something from the gift shop? Some testosterone maybe?"



The football player's face became red, and even angrier. Carlos took this as an opportunity to have the last word, and left before he could say anything else.



He wobbled down the hall, drawing attention from everyone that he passed. He felt a warmth running down his arm, and noticed that he was bleeding at the site of the IV needle. He slid suddenly, stopped, and looked down at his feet. Someone had put a pair of different socks on him. The gray hospital kind. He shook his head and continued on. This was the only time in his entire life that traveling down a hallway actually felt like an expedition. He then spotted Fawn a few meters in front of him.



"Fawn!" He held up his arm. "Fawn wait!"



He then made an attempt at running, which was basically just him dumbly lifting his legs and placing them further apart. He kind of resembled a child taking it's very first steps. However it didn't look quite as adorable on him considering he was a five foot ten, sixteen year old boy teetering down the hall of a hospital. It was rather odd.