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Fawn watched as Carlos pulled the brush through the knots in his hair. Her night clothes were soaked in blood, as she had to drag him into George's room, but she wouldn't tell him that. When he was finished, he set the hairbrush down on the night table. He sat for a while, seeming to be deep in thought.



"What are you thinking about?" Fawn asked him.





He shook his head and began to stand, but sat back down, as his head still hurt. Fawn propped her head on her fists and silence filled the room for a long while. Finally, Carlos turned to her.



"What did you mean when you said that Gina had turned?" he asked.





Fawn sighed again and pulled her golden hair back.





"When you started coughing up the blood, I ran to this room to get George's medical books, he used to be a nurse, and Gina appeared."





She took a deep breath.



"And I was so scared that I went to hug her. When I did, she pushed me back and just started saying these awful things. She told me she knew how to break both you and I. So I ran back to where you were and when I tried to take you back in here she did this to me."



She pointed to a swollen, jagged line that ran from one shoulder to the other that somehow, Carlos had not noticed. He stared at the puckered wound, which had begun to stitch itself back together, but was still as raw and pink as if it had just been recieved. Sitting back, he silently chipped at the black varnish on his nails. Fawn suddenly laughed.



"Hey, do you like clubs?" she asked.



Carlos just stared at her.



"Clubs?"



"Yeah, clubs. You know, music, dancing, drinks. that sort of stuff." she said, smiling.



He shook his head.



"Clubs aren't really my thing." he said, still chipping the varnish.



"Oh come on." Fawn prodded. "It'll be fun, they don't even play that preppy shit people call music nowadays."



Carlos thought for a bit, then sighed.



"Alright, I guess so. I should shower first though..." he said.



Fawn's face brightened.



"Of course!" she said happily.



She led him to the bathroom and pointed out everything he would need, then went back into her room. Realizing that she was still wearing her bloody nightdress, she slipped it off, dropping it into the laundry basket beside her bed. She pulled on her red sweater, a pair of jeans, and sprayed on her favorite perfume. She had gotten it for her birthday, a delicate scent of lavender. She went into the living room and began flipping through the channels on the television. She stopped at Lifetime, which she found quite ironic. She sat back and watched as the dark, gruesome images of NCIS flashed by. She wasn't sure why she found this relaxing, perhaps it was just for the sake of having sound. She could not let herself think about Gina, or whether or not they would be followed. No, she shoved the thought from her mind. Sighing, she turned her head to see Carlos, in George's black pullover hoodie and jeans, sitting next to her. Startled, she jumped and let out a small yelp.





"Jesus Christ Carlos! Make some noise or something, you scared me!"





He chuckled. "Im sorry, I actually just got here." he said.



"Oh." replied Fawn. "Well anyway, ready to go?"



"Yes" he said.



Fawn rose from the couch and grabbed the keys from the end table.



"Not it!" she said jokingly, tossing them to Carlos.



He caught them without thinking, and walked to the door.

Swirling figures twisted and swam underneath his closed eyelids. Such a headache he had. Carlos slowly opened his eyes to see Fawn closely watching him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, determined to clear away the spots clouding his vision. A searing pain shot through his temples, and he put his hands over his eyes, groaning. He had noticed that the front of Fawn's nightdress was covered in his blood. He then noticed where he was. He recognized the down comforter on George's bed, and the small lamp on the end table. She must have carried him. But how? he wondered. He was much bigger than she; perhaps she had dragged him. The room began to fade in and out, twisting and twirling like the figures he had seen just moments before, and suddenly, he felt Fawn's firm grasp on his shoulder, catching him before he slipped off of the bed.



"Carlos?" Her voice was barely an echo.



He felt as if he was underwater. Every sound was muffled, every image stung his eyes. He could still feel the gurgling within his lungs.



"Carlos? Can.......me?" The surrounding sounds flowed in and out of his mind.





Rich, thick, liquid words poured from Fawn's delicate lips.



'Our mind is peaceful, more calm, drifting or otherwise.'





"Carlos........hear me?" Thick, saturated murmurs.



'Because you're allowing one process, or another, to keep going.'



"Car.......sp......to me......hear.........hear me?" Dripping like thick molasses.





'If you want your mind to slow down and relax'





"Dont listen Carlos!" Soft echos...





'Turn the dial on your mind'





"No! Ca....." Her words faded each time.





'Down.....down.....fade Carlos......fade.....sleep. Let your mind rest on comfort, ease.'





He felt her grasp.





'And as you continue to relax, letting your mind drift'



The warmth of tears falling on his wrists.





'You can rest easy in the knowledge'





He gently slipped away....





'That you know how to wake up at any time'





"Dont listen!" Fawn's echoing voice was pleading.





'Life.....is......beautiful.....'





And then reality hit him like a five ton semi truck. Sounds, smells, sensations all came flooding back at once. He sat straight up from the shock, and Fawn was holding tightly to his hands. Red tears stained her face, and she was sobbing.





"Oh god! Oh my god!"





She put both hands on his face. He must have looked confused, because she dropped her head and sniffled. She then looked back at him with a worried expression.



"It was Gina. She's turned, I dont know why, I dont know how. She almost killed you."



Carlos struggled to find his voice, he wasnt sure if it was still there.



"Kill me?" He was surprised at the raspy tone to his voice.



Fawn sighed.



"Gina has the ability to enter people's minds and shut them down from the inside. I tried to keep her away but she's become dangerous."



"Wait, how long have I been out?" he asked.



"About three days." answered Fawn.



Three days. Three days he had been unconcious since that night. A stream of blood trickled down from his lips and onto his chin.



"Why am I still bleeding?" he asked, slightly annoyed.



"Your lungs still havent emptied yet." Fawn replied. "Although it isn't as bad as before."



He wiped his mouth and ran his hand through his matted hair.



"Do you have a hairbrush I could use?" he asked.



"Of course." she said, taking a hairbrush out of her dresser and handing it to him.

Carlos watched as she carefully stacked them on top of each other, making sure that the titles were right-side-up. A very peculiar feeling had overtaken him, one of foreboding. He felt the need to protect someone from something to come, but wasnt sure who or what. As he breathed, he felt a soft rumbling in his chest, which he ignored. He sat down on the couch and looked at Fawn. He felt as though she was annoyed with him, but did not want to ask directly. He decided to hint at it.



"So um, that thing with Christabel...pretty crazy huh?" he said awkwardly.



"Quite." Fawn answered.



He uncomfortably scratched his head.



"I hope it didn't cause too much of a disruption." he said.



Suddenly, Fawn stopped shuffling the magazines. She abruptly looked up at Carlos with an expression of terror.



"Carlos? Does your nose hurt?" she asked, fear in her voice.



"No..why?" He covered his nose with his hand.



Drawing it back, he found it streaked with blood.



"It's just a nosebleed Fawn, no big deal." he said nonchalantly.



The raspy feeling in his chest grew.



"No....NO!" Fawn screamed.



Now Carlos was worried. He jumped up from the couch and wiped his nose again. More blood.



"Fawn, what is wrong?" he nervously asked.



"Your ear!" she yelled, covering her mouth in horror.



He could feel it. He could feel the warmth of his blood trickling down his neck. He ran back into the bathroom and nearly snapped the light switch, fumbling to turn on the light. He turned to the mirror.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Fawn struggled to focus. She was scared. She had only ever heard of consumption, never had she witnessed it. She held onto the end of George's recliner, so as not to fall over. She felt dizzy, this could not be happening. From the bathroom, she heard Carlos gasp. She needed Gina with her. She needed her help. She thought of Gina and only Gina, in the hope that she would appear, but she only faced an empty room. She ran to George's bedroom and ripped the medical books from his bookshelves.



"Consumption....consumption...." She fumbled with the pages, her hands shaking too hard to get a good hold of the large volume.



She came to the page she was looking for.







Consumption



An old name for Tuberculosis. A disease that describes how the illness wastes away or consumes it's victims. Caused by a highly contagious bacterial infection, TB is responsible for 20% of the deaths in 17th-century London and 30% of those in 19th-century Paris.



Symptoms



Much coughing of blood, fever, highly contagious







"No...but how...he's a vampire!" Fawn was in shock.



She felt a presence, and turned to face Gina. She ran to her and wrapped her in a hug.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





He stared, horrified, at the reflection which, moments before, had been a blank, plaster canvas. Now, there was nothing but blood pouring from every place it could. His nose, his ears. The raspyness in his chest became worse. He coughed once. It was a wet cough, the sort of cough that would accompany an upper respiratory infection. He breathed in, and heard the growling of his lungs. He coughed again, blood streaming from his mouth. A fit of coughing then overtook him, and he dropped to his hands and knees in pain. He heard Fawn's soft, but urgent footsteps, and the door swung open. Her ghost was there. They were talking, but a loud ringing had filled his ears, and he felt as if he were fading. He heaved, and a fountain of blood spewed from his lungs.



"He will not die Fawnie...." Fading voices.



"Will not die......" Whispers.



Darkness.

The next night, Fawn woke to the sound of shrieking and what sounded like plates shattering. She was just beginning to wonder what was going on when the sound of running footsteps approached. Carlos flung her door open, holding a bloody rag to his head.



"Christabel is going insane! I have no clue what's wrong with her she's...she's crazy!" he said frantically.



Fawn slipped out of bed and went to the door, ducking as a plate came flying toward her head. She walked quickly down the hall, which was littered with bloody shards of plates and glass. She came into the living area, where she found the glass coffee table smashed in and the door ripped off it's hinges. She ran to it, picked it up and shoved it back into place, whipping around angrily to face Carlos.



"WHAT has been going on in here?!" she yelled.



He shook his head and pointed toward the kitchen, where the cupboard doors were all flung open, some ripped off. The plates were sliding and flying right off of the shelves. Fawn heard, softly whispering past her ears, what seemed to be the sound of a child throwing a tantrum. Before she could turn to Carlos again, the window flew open and the frigid night air blew Fawn's blond hair about her. She ducked again as another plate came hurling in her direction. She suddenly became very angry. She searched for the tiny shadow that physically marked Christabel's presence. Her eyes fell upon the dark spot of her being, and glared.



"STOP." she ordered firmly.



Suddenly, the wind stopped. The last plate slid off of the counter and fell to the floor, shattering as it hit the cold tile. There was a long moment of silence before an obvious lift in tension occured. Fawn was confused; she hadn't thought her demand would actually work. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and shut the window. She grabbed the broom and turned to look at Carlos. A very confused, shocked expression had fallen across his face, and he had also dropped the rag. A large gash, now only an angry pink line, ran from the corner of his eye to his ear, a dried line of blood following it. She calmly smiled at him and began to sweep up the bits of glass. Carlos, quite confused, fetched a garbage bag and stuffed the larger of the shards inside. When they had finished checking for extra glass, Fawn went into the bathroom, emerging with a scrub brush and carpet cleaner, and, getting to her knees, began to scrub the blood stains out of the carpet. Carlos sat cross legged in front of her, watching her work.



"Want me to do that?" he offered.



Fawn shook her head, looking up at him and smiling once again.



"I've got it, thank you, but you should probably rinse that blood off."



Carlos nodded slightly and stood, walking into the bathroom and wetting a washcloth. Looking up from the sink, he saw his reflection for the first time in days. Stunned, he stared into the golden framed mirror and, just as Fawn had, took in his new features. His skin had become quite a bit paler than it had been, and the red pigment of his blood fiercly contrasted the nearly alabaster flesh. He also noticed that his eyes had turned a soft, but rather noticeable honey color. He dragged the cloth along his forehead, not taking his eyes off of the mirror. He wiped off the rest of the blood and dropped the washcloth back into the sink. The soft sound of the scrub brush against the carpet outside of the door filled the house. He noticed that his hair had become quite nappy, and sweeping it back with his hand, he found the two swollen puncture wounds, where Fawn had bitten him. He picked up the cloth again and swiped around the circumference of his neck. He then rinsed the cloth, hung it back on the towel rack, took one last look in the mirror, and turned out the light. He stepped back out into the hallway, where Fawn had finished scrubbing and was now organizing some magazines.

"Have any more?" asked Carlos hungrily.



His voice sounded raspy, clearly suggesting that he needed more. Fawn went into the kitchen and when she came back out, she was carrying the cooler full of blood.



"Here, this can be yours. I have a feeling you'll be needing it more than I." she said, setting it down in front of him and removing the lid.



His eyes widened as they scanned the many bags of crimson life. He picked one up and bit it, not bothering to open it. He drained the bag and tossed it aside, grabbing another one and greedily gulping it as well. Fawn and Gina watched with wide eyes. Never had Fawn thought it possible to be this thirsty. Then again, so much had happened in the last few days that she hadn't really had time to consider her thirst. Perhaps that was why she had been somewhat grumpy. She looked at Carlos, then went to the refridgerator, not daring to interrupt his dinner. She decided that she would try Type A positive, George's favorite. She cut open the bag and stuck her tongue in it. She crinkled her nose at the taste, and decided to try it heated. She made use of the coffee machine and poured the bag into the pot, setting it to 98.6. She sat on the couch while she waited for it to heat up, and noticed that Carlos had almost completely finished the cooler, and was asleep on the floor. There was a small pool of red tinted saliva at the corner of his mouth.



"I see he's a sleep-drooler." said Gina jokingly. "Shall I get a mop?"



"Oh leave him alone Gina, you only say that because you drool in your sleep also....well you used to anyway." replied Fawn.



She closed the cooler and brought it into George's room, setting it beside the bed. Gina walked in and looked around. She noticed a slip of paper on the night table, and picked it up. She unfolded it to reveal a letter written entirely in russian. She thought nothing of it and placed it back on the table. She turned to Fawn, who was sitting at the end of the bed, reading George's spell book. Her small, socked feet dangled delicately, hanging a few inches from the floor.



"Have I ever told you how much I love your little feet?" asked Gina, trying to break the silence.



"Many times." Fawn answered back impatiently.



"Fawnie what's the matter? You never used to be like this. Are you stressed?"



Fawn closed the book and sighed. She hadn't taken a moment for herself in over a week. She set the book on George's dresser and rested her head on Gina's shoulder.



"I guess it's this whole vampire thing. I haven't been able to clear my mind in so long....it happened right after you died, and now with Carlos and me having to teach him everything..." she sighed. "I just need to rest for a few days, and I certainly need to feed...yeah. I'll be fine."



She stood up and walked back into the living room. She and Gina stood looking at Carlos, trying to figure on what to do.



"Should we move him?" asked Gina.



"No, he's too heavy for me, and you're technically just essence." said Fawn.



"Should we drag him then?"



"No! We do not drag guests."



They laughed, and Fawn took a blanket from the end of the couch, draping it over Carlos. Gina ran to George's room for a pillow, and then the two girls retreated to Fawn's room. Fawn slipped on her nightdress as Gina sat cross legged on top of her bed, sampling her perfumes.



"I never really liked this one Fawnie." she said, holding up a light blue bottle, "It smells like old ladies."



Fawn giggled, as Gina was always offering criticism of whatever she laid eyes upon, and was always comparing it to the elderly. Fawn walked over to Gina and sniffed the bottle.



"It does actually smell like old ladies.....although this one was a gift; I never actually got to smell it." she said.



Gina chuckled and placed the bottle back on top of the bureau. She left Gina and went back into the kitchen, taking a mug out of the cupboard. She poured the pot of blood into the cup and turned out the light. It was very bright out now, and it hurt Fawn's eyes. Sipping from her cup, she drew the curtains even further, until it was black as pitch in the room. She walked back to Gina and gulped the rest of the blood. She hadn't realized how thirsty she had been. She crawled into her bed and Gina patted her cheek, not leaving until Fawn had completely fallen asleep.

Fawn stood and went into her room. Gina was sitting on her bed, reading one of her magazines.



"Which one of these lipsticks do you like?" she asked, turning it toward Fawn.



Fawn chuckled, amused that Gina was still obsessed with makeup, with everything that was going on. She grabbed a blanket and walked back into the living room, with Gina following. She folded it and placed it behind Carlos' head, then sat next to Gina.



"He looks better already." said Gina. "How many hours does he have left?"



Fawn checked the clock, it was almost two o'clock in the morning. Carlos had about four more hours.



"Four?" Carlos groaned.



Gina reached out and patted his hand.



"It won't be long." she said gently.



She noticed that Fawn looked as if she felt terrible that this was happening.



"Oh Fawnie...it's ok. I think he likes vampires. Right um...." she fumbled for his name, realizing she did not know what it was.



"Carlos" he said. "And yes I love vampires. I always go to the library to read about them."



Hearing this made Fawn feel a bit better, and she smiled. Gina held out her hand and Fawn took it. They sat in silence for a long while before Gina spoke.



"Who's that little girl?" she asked.



Fawn looked in the direction Gina was; she didn't see anything but a light outline, but Carlos couldn't have looked more shocked.



"Christabel?" he said.



The shape moved, seeming to come towards them. He couldn't move, but Carlos sat there grinning as the small figure moved slowly to him. Fawn wanted to see her, she was curious as to what it was that Gina and Carlos saw. She felt a slight change in tension, and she noticed very clearly now, the movements of the small shape. Carlos turned to Fawn.



"Can you see her? She's looking at you."



Fawn shook her head, feeling slightly left out of the sudden excitement. She jumped as her alarm clock sounded, and the shadow of the little girl rapidly vanished.



"Christie!" Carlos sat up, then sat back as the burning pain seared through him. He looked upset, and Fawn squeezed his forearm.



"I'm sorry, I usually have that set to warn George and I of sunrise...."



"It's alright, I'm actually beginning to feel a lot better, the burning is subsiding." He stretched his arms out, and as his elbow bumped the wall, it caved in and crumbled.



Fawn laughed hysterically at his expression. She needed to laugh, she needed for once that night to be truly happy. Carlos turned to her in utter confusion.



"Welcome to my world!" Fawn said as she collapsed again in a fit of laughter.



She shut the alarm off and parted the curtains just a bit. It was starting to brighten outside. She walked over to Carlos and felt his neck. Almost no pulse.



"You're going to feel a really sharp pain in a few minutes, that's just the completion of the process." she informed him.



He nodded and folded his hands in his lap, and as the sun peeked over the top of the houses, Fawn drew the curtains. She looked over to Carlos and counted the seconds. When she counted twenty, a sudden and violent tremor shook his body. Clenching his teeth, he dug his fingers into the floor, ripping out a board. He put his head in his hands as Gina grasped his knee; a comforting gesture. He sat in the same position for almost half an hour, and finally picked his head up. Fawn brought the blood bag she had left out to him and snipped the corner open. He took it and sniffed it.



"It's kind of freaky at first, the whole blood smell. But you'll get used to it." said Fawn.



Carlos shook his head and smiled.



"It's not that. It smells.....it smells pretty good actually."



He tipped the bag to his lips and took a sip.



"It tastes good too."



Fawn watched in amazement as he sucked the entire bag down in a matter of one minute. She was utterly amazed, usually newborns' taste for blood does not develop right away.