Chris slowly crawled out of the fog that was left from last night's sleep and stirred slightly. He cracked one eye open too look for his lover only to find himself alone in the bed. Chris sighed, he should have known. Ezra Standish as a vampire didn't need much sleep. But he knew how much Chris enjoyed waking up with an armful of vampire right beside him, so he tried to be there most of the times. Today being Saturday Chris had hoped to spend a whole weekend in bed with his green-eyed lover, starting the other night.
"Hey, sleepyhead."
Ezra kneeled on the bed and bent over him to demand a kiss. Which Chris had no problem giving.
"Mornin' to you too."
"It's almost noon, Chris. My, I should take it slower on you if it wears you out that much, hm?"
"Don't you dare, Standish." Chris hissed and grabbed the man, so that Ezra was landing wholly on top of him. Ezra grinned, green eyes sparkling with amusement.
"That a challenge, Mr. Larabee?" he asked and started to nib at his lover's neck, working himself down the long slender body. Chris shuddered at the sensuous assault and let his hands wander over the well build form of his vampire.
"Chris, I should ask Luther to cook for you more often."
Why?"
"My, look at you. You're nothing more than skin and bones."
"Hmm. You say that every time."
"Am not."
"Are too. Now, do you want to discuss menus or ... ?" Chris shot him a fiery look. Ezra smiled and returned to his former treatment of his lover's body. Suddenly he stopped, and Chris heard him inhale sharply.
"What?"
"I should take it slower on you, Chris. I'm sorry, sometimes I forget how strong I am."
 

Ezra had kissed and nibbled his way down south his lover's body, tossing the offending blanket aside, when he noticed something. Something that hadn't been there the night before.
A bruise.
Dark blue against the pale skin.
He inspected Chris's body a little closer and took in a sharp shocked breath as he realized where the bruises had come from.
Him.
They had made love the other night, passionate and a little rough, and he had held Chris down, at the hips and arms ...
Exactly where the bruises were.
Oh my god!
Shock gripped him with a cold hand and something inside him clenched in pain. No, that couldn't be true! He would never...
 

"I should take it slower on you, Chris. I'm sorry, sometimes I forget how strong I am."
Chris shot his lover a puzzled look. "Whatcha mean?"
Ezra had paled beyond his normally rather fair complexion and the green eyes displayed deep shock. "This ... Chris, I can't tell you how sorry I am ..."
"Oh. Wow." Chris looked surprised and a little pale around the nose as he looked down his own body, noticing the color on his arms. "It doesn't hurt."
"Chris, bruises like this must hurt like hell. And to look like this I must have ... " the vampire stumbled to a halt, his voice trembling minutely.
"Ezra, it's okay, it doesn't hurt none I'm fine. Except ..."
Worried eyes met his and Chris almost laughed out loud. "Except what?"
"Have to make a little pit stop."
Chris gave Ezra another small kiss on the lips and rose, heading toward the bathroom.
The world started spinning viciously.
Chris tried to steady himself at the doorframe but didn't make it. He was caught by two strong arms before he hit the floor.
"Yeah, right, you're fine, Larabee. Give me another one."
 

Ezra startled as he saw Chris collapse and was at his side in no time, catching the boneless figure before he could hit the floor and carried Chris back to the bed. Ezra could feel a lump forming in his stomach at the sight of his unconscious lover. Chris looked pale, the bruises standing out, and he really had lost weight.
"Mwrr-rrrt?"
Shawn, the small black cat which belonged to Ezra, looked around the corner of the bed, her green cat eyes wide, the whole body language a question: Two-legs, what is going on here?
"Wish I knew, Shawn. This is my fault."
Ezra reached for the phone when Chris slowly came around.
"You okay?" Stupid question, Standish. People who were okay normally didn't collapse on the floor.
"Yeah ... " Chris shuddered.
"Mwr-ow?"
Shawn had come closer, jumping on the bed and stretching her head toward Chris, sniffing. All of a sudden her demeanor changed, she gave a pitiful little sound and crawled under the blanket Ezra had tucked around Chris. Her head popped up under the blanket at Chris's chest and again she meowed sorrowfully. Ezra understood: she knew what was wrong with Chris and did her best to comfort the man, playing living hot-water-bottle.
"You're going to see a doctor, Chris. You are sick." Ezra muttered, grabbing the phone.
"Okay. First thing tomorrow."
"No. Next thing today."

* * *
 
Ezra stroked his little familiar carefully. Shawn was sitting on his lap, purring and pawing, since the EMT's had taken care of Chris. Larabee had declared that he was okay, that there was no need for all that fuzz; all he needed was a little rest and chicken soup because he was still suffering from his latest cold. But he had been told that falling unconscious in the middle of the day wasn't exactly the aftereffects of a cold, nor was his skin color - OR the fact that he had developed a fever. Chris had looked at Ezra, begging, but the vampire had just shaken his head.
"No discussion. You will go."
Chris had finally given in, no energy left to fight. Ezra had called Buck to let them know what had happened and which hospital Chris had been brought to. Now Ezra was waiting for Vin to pick him up, and he felt sick himself.
Was this his fault?
Had he caused all this by being too rough on his lover? He would never forgive himself.
The doorbell pulled him out of his thoughts. Vin had arrived.
 

"Now, what happened?"
Vin was driving toward the hospital. It was late evening already, and Ezra would be able to tolerate the sun's effect now. Even if not, he didn't care. He wanted to see Chris. Vin had told him that the others had driven to the hospital straight away and were waiting there for them. Ezra cleared his throat.
"Well... uhm ... actually ..."
"Haven't seen you speechless ever since I know you, Ezra. That bad, hm?"
"Worse."
"Oh?"
"It's my fault."
Haunted green eyes looked into shocked blue ones, as Vin shot him a glance.
"At least I think."
"What exactly happened?"
 "I ... well, we ... last night we made ... and I must have been too rough."
"What makes you believe that?"
"The bruises."
"Bruises?!"
Ezra flinched at the tone, a mixture of surprise, shock and sudden anger. Vin shot him another look and inhaled deeply.
"Did you do something you normally don't? Try something new?"
"No."
"Did you get carried away or something?"
"It was ... kinda passionate, yes, but ... I don't remember doing something to him, Vin. Maybe I just ... forgot myself, forgot about my own strength ..." Ezra swallowed, the picture of the dark colored bruises on his lover's skin still clear in his memory. How could he have done something? Hurt Chris that bad? Because you're a monster after all ...
"Ezra, let's not jump to conclusions here but wait what the docs say, okay? If it's really your fault ... " Vin shrugged "we'll deal with it then."

* * *

When they arrived at the hospital they sought out the ER immediately. The others were still waiting, and according to the looks on their face they knew as much as Vin and Ezra themselves. Buck looked up from where he was sitting, his arms resting on his legs, and shook his head slightly. No news yet. Vin sat down at his side and squeezed his thigh slightly, a small gesture of comfort. Chris was their friend, but he had been Buck's lover once.
"Ez, what the hell happened?" Buck wanted to know.
"Chris passed out. No obvious reason, I think that's why they took him here." Vin cut in before Ezra could answer. The vampire exchanged a look and nodded once, thankful for Vin's interference. It disturbed him that they hadn't heard anything about Chris yet. He had been here - how long? Five hours. Not a good sign. Not good at all.
"Excuse me, gentlemen?" a female voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Is there a Mr. Ezra Standish present?"
"That would be me. Is it about Chris Larabee? If yes, you can tell us all, please."
"Ahm, yes, it is. But honestly I would like to have a word with you in private first. I'm Dr. Hamblin."
Ezra frowned at that, deeply. Nope, definitely not good. He saw the expression on his friend's faces and shrugged slightly as he followed Dr. Hamblin to her office. He sat down on the chair she pointed to and watched her with growing uneasiness. He didn't like this. Not a single bit.
"Mr. Standish, as I understand you are Mr. Larabee's - uhm, longtime companion?"
Well, that was a way to put it, Ezra mused, as he nodded.
"Well, then I fear you won't like this. We found the reason for Mr. Larabee's condition. He had had several colds during the last months?"
Ezra nodded. Chris had called it his unlucky year concerning flu bugs. Whenever there had been one, he had apparently invited it in.
"Loss of appetite and weight?" the doctor went on. "Paler skin color?"
Another nod. Chris was slender to begin with and it didn't take much to let him look skinny.
"Mr. Larabee also confessed to experiencing dizziness and the tendency to bruise easily."
Ezra's mind raced over this, trying to get a grip on what she was saying. Chris had all of this? Except for the colds and the fact that his lover had lost weight, Ezra hadn't noticed anything. Hell, what kind of a companion was he?
"So, Dr. Hamblin, what does that mean?"
"We had blood tests done on Mr. Larabee and because of some inconsistencies, we also scheduled him for bone marrow aspiration and a lumbar puncture. That's why all of this took so long. Mr. Standish, Mr. Larabee is suffering from acute leukemia."
Ezra felt like punched in the stomach. "Cancer?" he whispered, his fingers clenching in the armrests of the chair, his head swimming.
"Yes. And unfortunately it's a very aggressive type. Mr. Larabee is already scheduled for chemotherapy."
Ezra's mind had started to race on this. Cancer. My god. After all he went through, they went though, and now this. He was threatened to lose the man he loved more than his own life - again.
"How long?" he croaked.
"Well, that depends on how well he responds to the treatment." Hamblin looked at him, her face set in a mix of compassion and professionalism. "Mr. Larabee has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, or ALL. For acute leukemia, the immediate goal of treatment is remission. The patient undergoes aggressive chemotherapy in a hospital for several weeks and is kept in sterile isolation and cleansed constantly to reduce the chance of infection. Since acute leukemia patients have extremely low counts of healthy blood cells, they are usually given blood and platelet transfusions to boost their natural immune function and to help stop bleeding. They may also receive drugs to combat infection and to reduce nausea and vomiting that may occur as side effects of the chemotherapy."
Ezra nodded slowly, trying to get his reeling world back into line.
"People with ALL are likely to attain satisfactory remission after several weeks of aggressive chemotherapy in a hospital. To keep the disease under control, Mr. Larabee will continue receiving low-dose chemotherapy and possibly radiation therapy for a month or more to eliminate residual cancer traces."
"It's curable?"
Hamblin clasped her hands. "Mr. Standish, I want you to understand that leukemia is treatable, but with every patient it's different. We've had great success in the past and the statistics speak for Mr. Larabee's recovery, but we also have to take into account the speed with which he developed symptoms. We can't rightly put out a prognosis..."
"I understand," Ezra murmured.

*

Ezra stumbled out of the doctor's office and back toward the waiting area. They would want to know. They had to know.
"Ezra? Pard?"
Someone touched his arm lightly and he looked directly into the very worried eyes of a certain young werewolf. They had followed him, waiting outside.
"It's ... " he swallowed. How did one reveal news like this to friends?
"What? Talk to me, Ez."
"It's cancer, Vin," Ezra blurted, green eyes filled with pain. "Leukemia. And the chances are not good."
Ezra staggered toward a chair, even paler than normal, and sank down on it. The true meaning of what he had just heard was slowly sinking in, and he felt his head swimming with it. Cancer ... leukemia ... Chris could die... oh no, please Lord, no ...
He felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and looked up into Josiah's face. The psychologist didn't say anything; just let his hand rest on the trembling shoulder, giving his own support. The others stared at the vampire in shock. JD had paled, looking suddenly unsure and scared.
"But they can heal leukemia, can't they?" he mumbled.
Ezra dredged up a smile. "They'll start chemotherapy right away."
"And that's good, right?"
The pleading expression was almost too much for him. Who was he to tell these men what their friend and colleague would have to go through? He wasn't a doctor and he didn't have all the answers! But he was Chris's lover and friend, the next of kin on his sheet, so the doctors told him and he would have to give the information to the others.
"Yes, it's good. It gives him a fighting chance."
"I'll go and ask the doctor," Nathan decided.
"Hamblin," Ezra supplied. "Her name is Hamblin."
Jackson nodded and left.
Ezra looked at the remaining men, their serious and pale faces." You don't all have to remain here," he told them quietly. "I'm just waiting for the administrative stuff and all...."
"We'll stay as long as it's necessary," Josiah told him firmly, giving the shoulder another squeeze.
 

Thirty minutes after the shattering diagnosis, a nurse approached the group of men. Nathan had yet to return from his talk with Dr. Hamblin. Buck and Vin had organized coffee, even one for Ezra on his request, and JD was nursing a soda from the vending machine.
"Mr. Standish?"
"Yes?" Ezra looked up.
"I'm Beth. Mr. Larabee can see you now."
Ezra rose and looked at the others. Buck and Vin gave him a weak smile, Josiah just nodded, and JD was staring at the soda can as if it held all the answers. He followed the nurse to one of the rooms.
"This is only temporary," she explained. "We're waiting for admin to clear everything, then we'll move him to his permanent room in Oncology."
Ezra nodded his thanks and entered.
Chris sat on one of the two beds in the room, fully clothed, looking pale but not like he was about to faint. He had leaned back against the raised head of the bed, his socked feet crossed on the mattress. He was looking shocky. When Ezra entered, the hazel eyes sought him out like a magnet. The vampire walked silently to the bed.
"Hey," Chris said, voice wavering a little.
"Hey," Ezra replied, studying the familiar features.
Chris was visibly fighting for control.
He perched himself on the mattress and gripped one cold hand.
"They're getting your room ready," Ezra said softly.
"I know."
"The others are outside."
"Don't wanna see them right now, Ez," Larabee whispered.
Ezra cupped one cheek with his hand and felt Chris swallow repeatedly. He smiled bravely and Chris mirrored it.
"You're not Mr. Tough Guy," Ezra murmured, running a thumb over the pale cheek. "It's okay."
Chris swallowed again and closed his eyes. "Ezra..."
"I'll be here. As long as it takes, I'll be here with you, Chris. I love you. We'll see this through together."
The hand resting on Chris's cheek was caught and their fingers interlaced. "Thank you," Chris whispered.

* * *

Ezra stood in the apartment he knew inside out, feeling lost and alone. His mind was whirling with all kinds of thoughts, most of them unimportant. Almost on automatic he walked into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe, taking out a duffel bag. He began to pack some t-shirts, sweaters, boxers and jogging pants. Then came the toiletries. He didn't think about what he packed; he just did it. Buck had offered to drive over to Chris's place and get the necessary items, but Ezra had argued he could do it just fine. He had stayed till visiting hours were over, had accompanied Chris to his permanent room, and then promised to be back in the morning. No matter how much sun.
Leaving the bedroom, the bag in hand, he added a few of the novels Chris had recently ordered from amazon.com. No one knew how long Chris would have to stay in the hospital. Chemotherapy was given in cycles: a treatment period, followed by a recovery period, then another treatment period, and so on. Dr. Hamblin estimated six to eight weeks if Chris was doing well. Considering his general health before the illness, he had good chances. He was strong.
Ezra walked over into the small office room Chris kept, looking over the neat desk. He picked up the filo-o-facts and leaved through the next weeks. He found little actual appointments. He would look up the names in the address book and call the people to let them know that Chris was in the hospital. He pocketed the small book. Vin would be taking care of the business side of life.
The vampire closed and locked the door after himself, pocketing the key once more. He drove over to the hospital again, walking into Oncology. When he entered the private room, he found his lover clad in a hospital gown, frowning at the TV program.
"Hey," he called softly, smiling.
"Finally a nice face," Chris sighed and dropped the remote control.
Ezra placed the duffel bag onto one of the two chairs, and walked over to Chris, kissing him. "How are you?"
Larabee raised both eyebrows. "I'm in a hospital, diagnosed with leukemia. Different question, please?"
At least the sarcasm was still there. Ezra chuckled.
"They poked and prodded me some more. They're setting the catheter first thing tomorrow." Chris grimaced. "Chest tube. Yuck."
Ezra took the offered hand between his and ran gentle fingers over the pale skin. "It'll help you, Chris."
"I know."
"I got you some things. Books and stuff. If you need anything else, tell me."
Chris's hazel eyes held his. "You," he said softly.
Ezra smiled. "I won't leave you alone. I just have a few things to manage, then I'll be here, with you."
Chris pulled him forward and they shared a soft kiss.

* * *

The next day seemed to stretch into eternity. Ezra had had to leave after visiting hours were over and it pained him each and every time. He realized that Chris needed the rest and that he was an obstacle in the eyes of the nurses. Then there was his 'skin condition', his aversion to sunlight. He had to rely on Nathan and Josiah to keep Chris company, be with him throughout the daylight hours.
The first cycle of chemotherapy started today.
Ezra pushed those thoughts from his mind, his hands flying over the computer keys. He would leave management of his business to trusted people. There were few and he didn't want the managers of each establishment to think he had disappeared. Which was why he had informed everyone that Luther was in charge for now. Should something unforeseen happen, should something spin out of control, he could always intervene. He wouldn't be completely out of the loop. JD had promised to check the hospital's phone lines and, if necessary, set up a special connection for his laptop. Ezra intended to be online 24/7.
He didn't worry about the costs. He had told the secretary at the hospital as much when he had made arrangements there. Chris's room was paid by him, as were all expenses concerning phone bills.
Shutting down the computer, Ezra left the office and walked over to where Luther was reading the daily newspaper, a drink in front of him.
"Everything's set," the older vampire said calmly.
"Good. I'll keep in touch, Ezra." Luther's eyes were filled with worry, but he didn't express it in words. He didn't have to. "Give my best to Chris."
Ezra smiled slightly. "I will. Thanks."
"Have you called her yet?"
He sighed. "No. It's next on my list."
Ezra sank onto the other chair and pulled out his cell phone. Taking out the address book from Chris, he looked up the name and number, then dialed.
"Jo-Ann, Ezra Standish here. I'm calling about Chris..."

* * *

Assistant Director Travis looked at the young man in his office, taking in the stiff posture, the carefully neutral expression, and the million emotions in his blue eyes. Vin Tanner was composed, but his mind wasn't. After hearing what his agent had had to tell him, he wasn't so sure his own mind was calm any more.
"The diagnosis has been confirmed?" he asked.
Tanner nodded. "Yes, sir. Dr. Hamblin said to call her if you have questions, but she also told us that Chris will be a patient in her ward for the next two months."
Two months. Travis leaned back in his chair. And afterwards, when he was released, Chris would be on an even longer sick leave. When. Not if. Travis firmly believed that Chris would be out again.
"I understand."
"I guess he'll call you later. He was pretty out of it yesterday," Vin went on calmly. "I wrote down the room number, phone and the names of his doctors, Sir. Your secretary has them."
Travis nodded. "Thank you, Vin. Now... about further proceedings with the team...

* * *

Nathan Jackson gazed at his computer screen, but he didn't see the words. All he saw was a blue and white screen filled with letters.
Chris had leukemia.
The doctor leaned back in his chair and rubbed his overtaxed eyes.
Damn!
Erupting from his chair, he started to pace the small space behind his desk.
"Nathan. Sit down." Josiah looked over the small forest of cacti and palms he had on his tabletop.
Nathan met the serious gaze, sighed deeply and leaned against the desk. "I feel so helpless," he murmured.
"We all do. We just have to wait and see, support our friends."
Nathan shot him a quizzical look.
"Ezra," the psychologist answered.
"Yeah."
Vin walked down the office aisles and the two men looked over to their colleague. The younger man looked a bit pale, but very composed.
"How was the meeting with Travis?" Josiah asked when no one spoke.
"Okay," Tanner mumbled and got himself a coffee from the small percolator they kept on a cupboard. The coffee machine in the break room was broken again.
"What did Travis want?"
"He told me Chris'll be on undetermined leave. They talked just this morning. Chris called him from the hospital." Vin gazed into the dark liquid. "I guess Travis'll call in a meeting later, but... in a nutshell. I'm taking Chris's place for now."
Josiah nodded. "All right."
Vin rubbed a hand over his face. "Damn."
"You'll do fine," Nathan reassured him.
"It's not that... It's... Just about everything." Vin placed the mug on the table. "Thinking of Chris in that hospital... shit, you should have seen Ezra."
"Leukemia can be treated, Vin," the doctor told him gently. "Chris has good chances for a remission."
"Good chances, hm?"
"There is never an absolute certainty."
"And that scares me. Scares me even more knowing that if Chris... goes... Ezra will as well."
Josiah and Nathan gave him a confused look, then Sanchez dropped his head. "Dear Lord."
Nathan blinked, a bit confused. "Vin, you're not saying Ezra would... end it, right?"
The young werewolf only nodded slightly.
"Shit!"
"He told us. Me and Buck. Told us a lot. He won't survive it, Nate. He just won't."

* * *

They were four days into chemotherapy. Ezra carefully stepped into the room, eyes fixed on the man lying on the bed, features as white as the sheets. God, he looked so... fragile. His Chris and fragile? Two words that never seemed to match. But now... Ezra inhaled and stepped closer, fighting down his raging emotions, appearing calm and reassuring on the outside. Chris needed that, needed his lover to be strong for him, so he could be strong as well, fight this invisible but nevertheless deadly enemy that threatened to destroy him from the inside.
Ezra remembered the talk he had had about a year ago with Vin and Buck, and the small question that seemed to be so innocent back then: what he would do should Chris die? He had answered back then that he would deal with it should the time come, one way or another. No, Ezra pulled himself together, no, this time hadn't come yet.
He sat down at the bedside, watching Chris sleep, the rise and fall of the chest. His eyes traveled to the catheter in his chest, the one that fed the drugs into the infected body, helping him fight off the cancerous cells. But the drugs also wreaked havoc with his immune system, so he was on antibiotics and sometimes had to receive blood transfusions.
Ezra reached out and took Chris's hand, not caring what others would say should they see it. This was the man he loved, and to hell with the rest of the world. Chris stirred, his hand in Ezra's slightly squeezing, and turned.
"Hey there." Ezra smiled.
"Hey there, too." Chris managed to smile back, but it took him some effort.
"How are you feeling?"
Chris had thrown up a lot lately. Food didn't stay down and so IVs had been attached. His mouth was sore from chemo, sometimes his gums bled.
"Like I messed up badly. Some shit, huh?"
"Well, you're a Larabee. Whatever you do, you do it all or nothing."
Chris grimaced at that, but Ezra could tell he was scared. Hell, he was.
"I'd prefer the 'nothing' part here." Chris murmured.
"We see this through together, Chris. You are not alone. Sleep now, love. Rest. I'm going to be here when you wake up."
"Promise?" Chris murmured, half asleep. Ezra bent forward and kissed him tenderly.
"Promise."

* * *

The weeks seemed to pass in a rush. Vin didn't know where time went. Sometimes it felt as if he couldn't move forward at all, each minute like an hour, then everything would jump ahead of him and he was left feeling like he hadn't accomplished anything at all throughout the day.
Travis had taken them off the normal duty roster, aware that he team was too preoccupied with their boss’s condition. He still demanded that they bring in results, help the other teams, and that meant a lot of lab work and writing reports, as well as filing stuff. On top of that, Vin was also stuck with the personnel management, which meant expenses and such.
Running a tired hand through his hair, Tanner walked into the office and looked around. It was barely eight in the morning and no one was in yet. Not even JD, which meant their resident hacker had actually gone home to sleep. Walking to his desk, he was surprised to find a neat stack of reports there. Printed, tacked, bound, labeled. Reports from all of the team on the finished cases. Next to the reports sat three CDs, labeled as 'Clemson case, evidence list', 'photographs' and 'back-up files'. Blinking in surprise, the geologist switched on his computer. He hadn't been aware of sending the print orders out yet. The Clemson case was one of the easier tasks, one that had only required lots of paper work. He knew he had finished it, but it had all been an incomplete mess.
Checking his folders, he discovered that yes, his files had been sent to print and for back-up. He looked up the ID who had ordered it.
"JD?" Vin murmured, surprised.
Had he told the hacker to do it? He had no idea.
He was interrupted by Nathan walking into the quiet office, looking a bit hurried and like he had just discovered a new catastrophe about to happen. "Morning, Nathan," he called nevertheless.
Jackson waved distractedly and switched on his machine, not even bothering to take off his coat.
"Everything okay?" Vin wanted to know, frowning slightly.
"No!" Nathan snapped. "Damnit!"
He drummed his fingers onto the desk, waiting for the machine to boot, then he quickly clicked through his folders.
"Nate, what's wrong?"
"I was supposed to send off the autopsy report from Ferguson last night!" the doctor sighed. "I completely forgot. I was... too pre-occupied. Travis'll have my hide! The hearing is today and Kramer needs that file to..." He stopped, eyes widening. "What the...?"
Vin walked over to his colleague and looked over his shoulder. "Looks like you sent it off to Mr. Ed Kramer, Nate."
"I didn't! I know I didn't! I mean, there had still been stuff missing. I hadn't attached the jpegs yet!"
"Looks complete to my eyes."
"Yes, but who..."
"JD," both men said simultaneously.
The ID couldn't be mistaken.
Vin shook his head. Apparently their youngest had taken to keeping an eye on his older colleagues, who were running around like headless chickens. Vin had been glad that Dunne had volunteered to do expenses and send the copies to the departments they had to go. The team had no secretary and Service was always under pressure. The ladies in that department were glad to have complete and correct forms when it came to management, not the semi-correct, partially empty forms many of the staff sent in.
"Shoot, how did he know?" Nathan mumbled, sinking back into his chair. "He had to have checked each of our work stations each evening..."
Both men exchanged looks.
When Josiah came in ten minutes later, he only nodded at that revelation.
"JD volunteered to do the long-winding psych report on the accidental shooting I had to write up. Said to give him my scripts and send the jpegs and whatever. Found the complete thing in my inbox two days later. Helped me tremendously." The psychologist shrugged. "Would have kept me here for evenings to come just typing it all up."
Vin shook his head, amazed. Yes, they had all been headless chickens, but among the flock, JD had kept his level head. Damn, he was deputy leader and he had botched up grand style twice. It had never left the office floor and now he knew who had caught the mistakes and corrected them.
"That boy's full of surprises," he murmured.

* * *

Nothing outside the world of this small room existed any more. Ezra P. Standish couldn't give a shit about business management, his position in the community, or anything else. The center of his world had long since shifted and readjusted itself to the blond man currently sleeping in the private room. Ezra had moved heaven and earth, had signed all the necessary papers that would insure that Chris was treated with every possible medication and that told the hospital that he, Ezra Standish, would pay for the treatment. Whatever the cost. He didn't care.
Ezra looked at the hand he was holding, smiling faintly. At the moment it was lax in his grip, Chris fast asleep, and he knew his lover wouldn't rouse for several hours. The chemotherapy had left him exhausted. Between throwing up for days and sleeping like dead, Chris hadn't been up to much. Dull hazel eyes had lit up every time Ezra had come.
The nurses had fast learned that Ezra was quite capable of taking care of the patient if necessary. Except for injections and other medical procedures, Ezra had taken over duties, down to washing his lover. Chris had argued of course. Ezra had simply ignored the annoyed man, smiling, telling him to shut up in the end.
That Ezra was at all able to do this, stay here, sign papers, was largely due to Chris himself. Not only had Larabee much earlier written Ezra down as the man who held the Power of Attorney, but he had also made it clear to the staff at the hospital that Ezra, as his life partner, was his next of kin. He was okay with his decisions.
Ezra himself had felt warmth rise inside him at the thought. This was an incredible trust his lover had put into him, even more so since they hadn't been together for more than a year.
I love you, he thought, massaging the hand in his grasp.
Chris was now officially on an undetermined length of sick leave. Ezra had briefly spoken to Orrin, but he hadn't given the man any other news than what he had already gotten from Vin and Buck. Vin, as Chris's deputy on the team, had taken over the responsibility as leader. The young werewolf was doing fine so far. It wasn't as if he hadn't been in the position before. Vacation time and sick leave had seen to that.
A nurse walked into the room and Ezra smiled at her. Rose smiled back and briefly checked on the sleeping men, then quietly left once more. It was routine. Like almost everything here. Except for the two men in this room, to whom nothing of this could ever become routine. Ezra just hoped they would get out of here soon.

* * *

Buck had left the office at lunchtime, needing to get out, walk, just be away. His lunch was a hot dog from a street vendor and a bottle of Coke. Now, sitting on a park bench, he watched people bustle by. Cars drove up the streets, cabs wove in and out of the two lanes, and the sun warmed this perfect day.
Perfect.
Right.
A dark cloud seemed to hover over Wilmington wherever he went. A dark cloud of despair, fear and a sliver of hope. He tried not to think of Chris in the hospital, a pale shadow of his former self, the catheter in his chest that fed the chemotherapy drug into his body. He didn't try to think of what Ezra had explained was done to fight the cancerous cells. Yes, they had asked, but the answer haunted him. And he had only seen Chris short amounts of time. Ezra was with him day and all night. He didn't want to imagine what it did to the vampire.
Buck took a swallow from the bottle.
Chris was his oldest friend. Damn, they had been friends ever since college. Shit, had they gotten into trouble sometimes. Chris had been always so sure of himself, so determined, and a born leader. He didn't really want to be, but he was singled out nevertheless because of the quiet way he managed things. He was temperamental, but it was an even temper. It never exploded into someone's face.
It was what had attracted him to the blond man. They had both been nineteen, experimental, and ready to try out something new. It had at first been nothing but a casual encounter. Then a second time. Then more experimental trials. Never something really risqué. But with the months, the hand- and blowjobs had become more. For two years it had been more, but it hadn't lasted. Heck, Buck hadn't been head over heels in love. Chris was an attractive man, he had been fun, and Chris had told him he had felt the same.
Now they were best friends.
And his friend had leukemia.
Buck crumbled the wrapper from the hot dog into a small ball and chugged it into the garbage can next to him.
He and Chris had a history, longer than anyone else... They had gone through everything together, good times and bad times. They had even both been transferred to the CSI, later ending up on the same team of The Branch. Chris had set him up with Vin.
Damn, he had been stricken with that boy. Buck had had some affairs between Chris and Vin, but when the geologist had signed onto the team, he had sworn off everyone else. He had wanted Tanner, but he had been too afraid what would happen to the team if this went wrong. He had tested the waters, but never had come forward.
Chris had been the one to help out. He had set him up with Vin. For five years now they had been an item. He felt strongly for the younger man. He loved him, couldn't imagine a life without him - even if his lover was now a werewolf. But hey, they had managed. Again with some interference from Chris.
He's as old as I am... oh gawd....
Why did this have to happen to Chris? Of all people! The man had just found his own happiness in Ezra and Buck was happy for them. Damn, he could have danced the day he had heard that those two were an item.
Now...
Squeezing his eyes shut, Buck let his arms rest on his knees. A warm breeze stirred his hair.
He wasn't dealing with this. Not at all. But the others weren't either. Nathan had been drowning himself in work lately, taking over for colleagues, spending all his time in pathology. Josiah was trying to do the same, but he wasn't accomplishing much work. He started one thing, then another, then a third, and in the end everything blurred together. Vin... the poor guy was smothered in paperwork. He himself had turned into a monosyllabic. Even at home. Vin was patient, tolerant, but Buck knew that something had to happen and soon. He had to pull himself together. The only one among them with a bit of common sense left was apparently JD. The young hacker was keeping a clear head and had pushed several disasters away from Buck already.
He smiled dimly. Hell, JD had kept the whole machinery rolling, sending off his stuff in time or triggering his requests when Buck had once again forgotten to log in and clear his outbox before leaving for home. Dunne was the center of it all, like a spider in a net, aware of everything that went on around him.
How did the kid do it?
He frowned. Different question: why couldn't they do it? All of them? Why did JD have to avert disasters, cushion their falls, do their work? Shit, they were professionals and the kid was doing their job!
Buck emptied the Coke bottle and dumped it into the garbage as well. He rose from the bench and scrubbed his face.
Pull yourself together, Wilmington! You're part of this team, so start behaving like one! What's Chris supposed to think when he gets back and finds everything in shambles?
He'd rip their collected heads off.
Buck chuckled softly as he walked back to the Clarion Tower.
Yeah, he would do just that.

* * *

Chris looked at the cards, raised an eyebrow, then lowered them. "If I wouldn't know you better, I'd say you're cheating, my friend."
Ezra gave him an innocent smile. "You wound me, Chris. I don't have to cheat. Your skills are abysmal."
Larabee grimaced. "Why, thank you. You really know how to lift my spirits."
Ezra leaned forward and gently brushed his lips over Chris's. "Which is why I'm teaching you."
Ezra had been surprised and secretly amazed when Chris had confessed to him that he knew next to nothing about card games. Oh, he played the easy ones, but anything along the lines of Poker was a mystery to him. So, since they had time to kill a plenty, Ezra Standish had slipped back into his earliest role: the gambler. He had patiently taught Chris the easy ways of Poker and some other games, and they had played whenever he felt like it.
The door opened and one of the nurses came in.
"Hello, Sylvie," he greeted the brunette.
"Time to change that IV," she announced.
Sylvie McKella was only one of the ten nurses he and Chris had gotten know in the weeks Chris had been in therapy by now. She had been working in this ward for four years now, and she was married with two children. Actually, he knew a lot of the nurses, had talked with them, used his charms, as Chris would put it, and he had listened to them when they had talked a little about their families. None of them seemed to be offended by the fact that the two men were in a sexual relationship. One of the nurses, Monica, had even told them about her gay brother how glad she was to see the support Chris had.
Sylvie professionally exchanged the IV, then left them again.
"Another game?" Ezra inquired, shuffling the cards.
Chris shrugged. "I'm a masochist. Deal."
The vampire laughed softly and did just that. As he sorted the cards, Chris looked at his lover. They had been talking a lot lately, about Ezra's past, Chris, his marriage, Ezra's family.... Just about everything. Standish had seen no reason not to answer any of his lover's questions. They had time and in this time, things could be discussed and talked about in detail, leaving no fears or doubts.
"Ez, how did you meet Luther?"
Ezra smiled. He had been waiting for that question. "We met in the late sixties. In Alabama. He was partaking in a march against racism."
Chris raised his eyebrows. "The March Against Fear?"
Ezra gave him a surprised look.
"Hey, Vin's a history buff. You get to hear a lot and we had a case that dealt with that part of US history once. We got an ear full of Vin the History Teacher. Some stuck." Chris shrugged.
"I see. Well, it wasn't that particular march. A similar demonstration. I wasn't there, exactly.  I watched a lot from the sidelines or on TV. I was a white man, not wanted."
"I understand."
"Luther was a victim of the police forces sent to... contain and subdue the marchers and demonstrators. He was beaten extensively and left in a ditch," Ezra went on. "He got out of the ditch and I nearly ran him over when he staggered into the street. Tried to take him into a hospital, but at that time, it was close to impossible to find one that would treat colored people." Disgust swung in his voice. "In the end, I did what I could to assist him. I know some first aid."
Ezra collected the cards again and dealt anew.
"I knew someone I could take my young charge to, so I drove there. By the time I arrived, Luther was strong enough to try and fight me." He smiled wryly. "He had no chance, of course. I carried him into Doc Foster's little clinic and he took care of him."
"So Luther wasn't a vampire back then?" Chris wanted to know, frowning at the hand Ezra had dealt him.
"No, he was human. I didn't stick around long. Doc Foster told me that Luther asked who the heck I was, that he told him that not all Southerners are the enemy of the black people. Foster was colored as well."
Chris nodded and took two new cards. "How did Luther become a vampire?"
Ezra sighed. "It was his brother. Older brother. He had been turned just before the march. His name was Frank. Frank thought it was 'cool', believed it would give him the power to make things right for his people. He was changed for the wrong reasons." Another sigh. "I never met his sire, but he must have been young as well. He did it for the wrong reasons. Anyway, Luther was changed by his brother for the same reasons he had wanted to become a vampire, too."
"Not good," Chris commented and folded.
Ezra shot him a surprised look, then shrugged and shuffled once more. "Fate had it that after Frank killed Luther and fed him his blood, a riot broke out. He was shot."
"And died?"
"Yes."
"Vampires can be killed by bullets?"
Ezra shot him a wry look. "A bullet to the head or heart kills just about anyone. Frank was a sieve. When Luther woke, he was alone. A vampire, alone, and confused. His brother was dead and he had no one to turn to."
"So he turned to you?"
"No, at the time I wasn't actually in town. I got a call by Doc Foster. Luther had gone to him, had asked for help. Foster knew about the community and he contacted me." Ezra laughed softly. "To say Luther was surprised to see me again would be an understatement."

"You?"
"Yes, me."
"Shit, man!"
Ezra smiled humorlessly. "An appropriate way to put it. I don't have time for subtlety. You're a vampire now, Luther. You shy the sun, you live off blood, but you aren't superman. Who is your sire?"
"My what?"
"The vampire who made you."
"That's Frank, my brother. He's dead."
Ezra frowned. "That complicates things. Okay, listen up, young man. I'm on my way to Vegas. You're coming along."
"Hell no! You can't make me, white man!"
Foster looked at the newly made vampire and sighed deeply. "Luther, Ezra is about your only chance out there."
"He's white!"
"You are fighting for your people," Ezra said calmly. "To have them accepted despite their different skin color. Prejudice should be the last on your mind, Luther."
The man glared at him. "How do I know I can trust you, white man?"
"You don't."

"Luther was a rebel. He fought me because I was white and from the South. I had a hard time making him understand that I wasn't going to make a slave out of him, that I was trying to teach him what being a vampire meant, and in the end we came to an understanding." Ezra grinned.
"Hm, looking at him now, I'd say you did."
"Yes, but it was a trial." Ezra smiled more.  "I think he came around when he heard more about my past, when I was born, the Civil War and all. He also met more people of the Alabama community while we were there. He saw that being a vampire, whatever color or race you are, turns you into something different..." He trailed off.
Chris caught one of his lover's hands and interlaced their fingers. "You're not different, Ezra," he stated calmly. "Not for me."
The vampire raised the hand to kiss the sensitive inside of the wrist. "Thank you."

* * *

Vin trudged up the steps to his apartment, feeling bone-tired and worn out. And today was only Wednesday. Three days into the week and he felt like he had worked through at least two weeks without much sleep. He pushed the door open and smiled when he was greeted by an enthusiastic cat.
"Hey, Shawn," he sighed.
Shawn wrapped herself around his legs, demanding attention.
"Hey, kitty!" Buck called, laughing.
"Meorw!"
Buck bent down to rub the black familiar, giving her the attention she demanded. Vin threw his coat over the next chair and walked into the bedroom to change into his sweats and a t-shirt. When he came out again, he had to grin at the picture before him. Shawn was rolling on her back, presenting her belly to Buck, purring deeply as the man scratched it.
"Mrow...." she declared languidly.
"Like that, hm?"
"'row."
Buck rose after a while and chuckled when Shawn rolled back onto her feet, following him to his apartment through the connecting door.
"You know it's my turn to feed you, hm?"
"Mrrww!"
Vin smiled and switched on the TV, sinking down on the couch. He felt bone tired and he hadn't even gone to the hospital today. Nathan had told them he would drop by and talk to Ezra and Chris. Josiah had been called to a two-day trial and would be back tomorrow evening.
"Hungry?"
Buck's softly voiced question jerked him out of his thoughts. He hadn't even been aware what he was watching and he grimaced as he discovered that it was some kind of inane stand-up comedy.
"Not really, no."
Buck sat down next to him and gently pulled Vin to lay his head against him. Vin didn't struggle much. He was too tired. He simply sank against his lover, sighing softly. They hadn't done this for a while.
"Sorry," Buck mumbled as he played with Vin's hair.
"Hm?"
"Sorry for being so grumpy lately... haven't been much of a friend."
Vin chuckled weakly. "Neither have I."
"Well, you've been thrown into that bureaucratic shit. I don't have an excuse."
"Excuse? Hell, we all have excuses, but the situation as such isn't an excuse," Vin muttered. "We're all worried. It's why Travis took us off regular duty. He knows we'd botch up even worse than we already do. And he knows barely a tenth of what shit we do. JD's covering our asses."
"Yeah, noticed that, too. Actually, it only came to me today. The kid's doing our jobs."
"The kid's doing my job, for crying out loud!"
Buck rubbed Vin's neck, feeling the tension in the tendons.
"He said to give him the management stuff and he'd deal with it. But he's done a lot more."
"I know."
Vin closed his eyes, sagging more against his lover. "I dealt with this before. Never felt it as such a pressure. Never messed up so badly."
"We never had this situation before," Buck murmured and placed a gentle kiss on the dark head.
Shawn stalked over to them, sitting down on the coffee table, and started to wash herself. Vin looked at the black cat. Suddenly he frowned.
"Buck?"
"Hm?"
"See anything different with Shawn?"
"No, not really. Why?"
"She's... growing?"
Buck stopped his calming massage of Vin's side and looked at the cat. "Well, she did gain weight. She's been eating a lot lately."
"Think she's sick?"
"Because she eats so much? Heck, I'd be worried if she'd stopped eating," Buck answered.
"Yeah, but... look how big she got. She gained weight."
"Maybe it's a phase."
Vin sighed. "What if something's wrong with her?"
Shawn lifted one hind leg and started to clean it down to her toes.
"You want me to drop by the vet?" Buck volunteered.
The geologist hesitated. "Maybe... Ezra's the expert, but he has a lot on his mind at the moment. I'd hate to worry him for nothing."
"Okay, I'll take her down to the vet on Friday after work," Buck told him, resuming his strokes. "Then we'll know."
"'kay."

* * *

It was crowded at the Grotto. The day of the week had nothing to do with the mass of people coming and going, except that Friday and Saturday saw an increase of hopeful, waiting people outside. The rest of the week was simply full. A band was playing on the stage at the far end of the room and people were dancing to the jazz tunes. Waitresses moved in and out of the crowds, serving drinks.
Luther surveyed the patrons. His men were among the crowd, keeping an eye on the proceedings, keeping things calm. He didn't have to worry about drunkards or drug-addicts; vampires were quite keen on detecting those elements and complimenting them out of the Grotto. What he did discover was an unlikely visitor, sitting cross-legged in one of the armchairs that belonged to the more privately arranged seating area. A laptop was on the table in front of the man, plugged in and online, and there were several disks left and right of it. Curiosity peaked by the out-of-sorts visit, the vampire made his way over.
"JD?"
JD Dunne looked up from his work, shooting Luther a quick smile. "Hey, Luther. How are ya?"
Luther lowered himself in the second chair and gave the younger man a critical once-over. JD looked pale; paler than usual. His eyes held a watery look, as if he had looked into the screen of a computer for way too long, and there were darkening smudges under them. A bottle of Diet Coke stood on the floor and a half-eaten sandwich lay among the CDs.
"I'm surprised to see you here."
At this time of night, Luther added to himself. It was three in the morning. The Grotto was open till six and usually saw its regulars in the early morning and night hours.
JD just shrugged.
"Work?" the vampire inquired.
"Yep. Since Travis pulled us off the big stuff and assigned us the lab and back-up work, I get to do a lot of magic." He wriggled his fingers and grinned.
"It's not exactly office hours now," Luther remarked.
"Oh well.... Yeah, right. It isn't. Buck threw me out of the office tonight and told me not to come back till tomorrow afternoon, after I slept. Man, the guy's a mother hen!" the hacker complained, taking a swallow from his Coke. "I'm just doing my job."
"Which should be done throughout office hours?" Luther suggested.
He had gotten to know the team around Chris Larabee quite thoroughly throughout the last year. Among them, JD was the most eccentric. He loved his computers, he could lose himself in tech-talk and surfing, and he had an extreme disregard for normal work hours. The moment he was onto something, he would pursue it, even if it meant spending the night at the office.
"Work, hobby, free time... who can tell it apart?"
He chuckled. "You need a private life, kid."
The half eaten sandwich was devoured and JD smiled around a piece of lettuce. "You sound like Josiah and Buck. I'm just helping the guys out. With Chris in the hospital, they are running around without much of a plan and things... slide off."
"So you catch it?"
JD shrugged. "Kinda. I'm currently rearranging some stuff I want to upload when I get back to work." He checked his watch. "Which is in four hours when the Tower unlocks its gates."
"Ever heard of the elusive occurrence of sleep?" the vampire asked.
"Highly overrated. I'm fine, Luther."
"Ah-hu. Whatever you say, kid."
Luther rose and left the younger man alone, but he kept an eye on him for the rest of the night. JD packed his stuff together around six a.m. and left the Grotto.  Luther only shook his head.

* * *

It was past hospital lunch hours and except for the faint sounds from outside, the room was silent. Suddenly the door to the isolation room opened and Ezra smiled as he recognized the tall man underneath the mouth cover and scrubs. "Buck."
"Hey, Ez." Buck lowered his voice as he discovered that Chris was asleep. "How is he?"
"Had his last chemo treatment today. It wore him out, but he's better. He eats more. They're reducing the dosage of antibiotics as well."
"Good to hear."
Ezra looked at the CSI agent, noting the tension and the slight fidgeting. "Is something wrong, Buck?"
"Wrong? No, not really. It's Shawn."
Buck and Vin had immediately volunteered to take care of the small familiar since Ezra was too occupied with Chris to be home much. Shawn had been happy with the arrangements so far.
"What about her?" Worry curled into his already tight stomach.
"I took her to the vet today. You see, she started to eat a lot more all of a sudden and she gained weight..."
The worry blossomed. No, please Lord, not Shawn as well. Ezra tightened his hold on Chris's hand, but the blond didn't wake.
"What's wrong with her?" he whispered.
"Nothing's actually wrong, Ez. She's.... pregnant." Buck smiled behind the surgical mask.
"What?" His voice rose several notches as his mind realized what Wilmington was telling him. "She's what?"
"Pregnant. You'll soon be a granddad," Buck chuckled. "Or something like it."
Ezra's jaw clenched and he forced himself not to tighten his hand around Chris's once more. He actually let go of it, erupting from the chair.
"Goddamn fur ball!" he snarled.
"Uh, Ezra?"
"She's preparing herself for times to come!" he ranted, pacing the length of the room, agitation and annoyance demanding a release.
"Ezra, pard... what's wrong? Shawn's just having a litter... She probably met some nice tom cat somewhere around our place and ... well, things happened."
Ezra snorted humorlessly. "Things never just happen with familiars, Buck. She planned this! She's bringing a familiar into this world, damnit!"
"Okay, now you officially lost me."
The vampire sank against the far wall, trying to compose himself. "Shawn is a familiar. She is more than the average cat. As such, she doesn't go into heat on a regular basis. She can control it."
"Okay. Following you. She made the decision. So... she decided now was a good time," Buck concluded.
"She's blackmailing me!"
"Ez? She's a cat."
Ezra glared at the other man. "She is a familiar, Buck. She'll have at least one kitten that is a familiar, too!"
"What's so bad about that?"
"Familiars never ever have a litter unless they intend the familiar offspring to be with a witch or another paranormal. Like... a vampire. She's having this one for a new vampire!"
Buck frowned. "What new....oh..." His eyes strayed over to the sleeping form of Chris Larabee. "You mean...."
"I'm not playing along!" Ezra declared.
"Why would you want to turn him into a vampire?" Buck blurted. "He's getting better, right?"
Ezra nodded wordlessly.
"Does this cat know something all the doctors don't? Does she have a sixth sense or what?"
The vampire blanched slightly as the question sank in.
"Ezra?"
"He still has a deadly disease, Buck," he murmured. "But I won't do it!" he hissed. "I don't care what Shawn thinks, but I'm not going to do it!"
Buck sank onto the second bed. "She thinks he's gonna die?"
"Shawn's not thinking anything!" Ezra snarled.
"You said it yourself... she's a familiar. She's more than a cat."
"She's not omnipotent!" Ezra all but cried. "He's getting better! The doctors said he was getting better! He is in remission!" He sounded almost desperate.
"But if she's right? If he dies... Why not help him survive?" he simply wanted to know.
Ezra let his eyes fall from the intense, dark gaze. "I can't do it, Buck."
"We're talking about my oldest friend here, Standish! You can help him! If it was Vin and if I were in your place, I wouldn't hesitate!"
"But you are not in my place!" Ezra hissed, eyes alight with the vampire inside him "You don't know what's it like!"
"It can't be worse than what's going on right now! Would you stand by and watch him die?"
Ezra's head snapped up and he glared at Buck, but the man wasn't fazed.  "He is not dying! He is getting better!"
Another nod and Buck slipped off the bed. "Yeah." He walked toward the door. "I'll keep you updated on Shawn."
It was all he said before he closed the door after himself.

* * *

"Buck?"
"Hm?"
Vin nodded to himself. Okay, he had been correct. Over the last two days he had kept a close eye on his partner, noting that the fine lines of stress had made way for much deeper lines. Worry. Fear. Defeat? He didn't know what had triggered that. Thinking back the last forty-eight hours there had been nothing to launch the despair. Chris was getting better and the doctors at the hospital were actually quite positive. Ezra sounded better, even if he didn't allow himself to celebrate yet.
"Wanna tell me what's wrong or do I have to wait for the ultimate breakdown?" Vin asked matter-of-factly.
Buck stopped fiddling with the petri-dishes, something he always did when he was trying to distract himself. Bouts of unease and worry ended in him cleaning up his small lab, labeling everything from A to Z, and cleaning out ancient texts and volumes. Vin understood the motions because he was prone to do it himself, though he preferred to go out somewhere, climb around a canyon or cave, and just take his mind off things.
"I'm fine, Vin."
"Right. And pigs can fly."
Buck lowered the dish and pushed the drawer shut. His eyes wandered over to where Shawn had curled up on the windowsill, dozing.
"I went to talk to Ezra the day before yesterday. Told him about Shawn and her pregnancy."
"Oh?" Vin frowned. Something in Buck's behavior, in his voice disturbed the young werewolf.
"Yep."
"Uhm - what exactly did I miss here?"
"Shawn's a familiar."
"A what?"
"Familiar. Like in more than the average housecat. Ezra said she can control becoming pregnant ... and that she planned it. She is going... I know it's unbelievable, and I have difficulties here, too." His lover exhaled explosively.
Vin kept his eyes pinned on his lover. "What is Shawn going to do, Buck?"
"She will bring another familiar into this world, he said. To become the companion of a new witch or vampire..." Buck's voice trailed off, his dark eyes unreadable.
Vin frowned. New witch? New vampire? He didn't know anyone who would.... His thoughts stopped. Aw hell....
"Chris?" he murmured.
"But he's getting better, Vin! It's in remission! Or nearly! The doctors say he can get out soon if he keeps having such good results!" Buck whispered, desperation in his voice.
"Doesn't have to be Chris," the geologist calmed him. "We're not the only people Shawn and Ezra know."
"What if the doctors are wrong?"
Vin stared at Buck, looked at him as if he saw him for the first time. "What exactly are you telling me here?"
"I'm telling you that Shawn prepares herself to have babies, and that according to Ezra one of 'em will be like her. So the kitty thinks Chris will ... have to be changed. If Shawn knows there is no hope because she is pregnant and if Ezra is right about that facet of her, and doesn't want Chris to become a vampire... then he won't do it, and you know what that means." He stumbled to a halt, aware that he was babbling.
Vin inhaled deeply, looking at the floor, studying the pattern on the laminate. Finally he raised his eyes. "All I know is that you are jumping to conclusions here, Buck. I don't see this, and I refuse to think in 'what-if' terms. Chris will be all right, we will have a litter of cute, little kittens, and we are going to have one hell of a time."
"Right!" Wilmington snorted and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Face the facts, man, she knows Chris is not getting better! And Ezra won't turn him!"
Vin blinked. "Buck, wait a second... We can't just ignore the medical facts because a cat gets pregnant!"
"A familiar, Tanner! She knows something we don't!"
"I shouldn't be the one to say this, being a werewolf an all, but that sounds like some pretty far-fetched shit," Vin almost snapped. "Chris is in the best of hands and he is healing!"
"What if he isn't? If he dies, Ezra won't even help! He won't turn him!" Buck yelled.
With that he stormed out of the room and Vin heard the door slam soon afterwards. His eyes were drawn to the now open eyes of the black cat. Shawn regarded him calmly.
"So, do you know something we don't?" he asked softly.
"Mrow?"

* * *

Remission.
Ezra looked at his lover, smiling for the first time in weeks. Relaxing for the first time in weeks.
Remission.
Chris was on the road to a cure. The cancer cells were disappearing, almost gone.
"Ezra?"
The voice startled him out of his thoughts and he smiled at Chris, who was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. He looked pale, had lost weight, but he was in remission.
"Just lost in thought," the vampire said softly, touching one slender arm. "Ready to go home?"
"Very much so." He slid off the bed, wobbling slightly.
"The nurse with the wheelchair will be here in a moment."
Chris glowered at him.
"And don't start arguing, Chris," Standish added, voice hard. "I won't have you collapse on your way out!"
Larabee muttered something, but he waited until the wheelchair arrived. Ezra thanked the nurse, one of the many he knew by now, and pushed his lover toward the elevators.
"How come you didn't wait at home? It's broad daylight out there!"
"Because I love you and now shut up."
Chris had to smile at the light words and the declaration. Ezra had parked in the underground parking lot and Chris grinned as he discovered that the driver of the car was no other than Martin. The man just nodded, silent as always, and waited for the two men to get into the car. Chris leaned back into the warm leather seats.
"It's so good to be out of there."
"You have no idea," Ezra concurred.

* * *

He wanted to believe. God, he wanted to hope. Buck Wilmington stood outside the apartment complex, leaning against the low wall that ran around the front yard, eyes screwed shut. A cool breeze came from out of the desert, carrying with it the smell of wet sand. A rain shower had hit and it had stopped only a few minutes ago. He was wet himself. Buck had taken his motorbike for a spin, aimlessly driving around, using the deserted highways to go way past the speed limit.
Chris had come home yesterday and everyone was positive that he was going to be fine. Remission was the magic word. But opposed to that was the clearly progressing pregnancy of one black cat. Shawn had gained in size and mass. Her belly was rounder and the last visit to the vet had told them she would be a mother in about three weeks.
It was like some death certificate in Buck's eyes. Twenty days.
If Shawn was right.
If a cat could foretell the future.
It sounded so ridiculous! The doctors had given Chris a good bill of health, had told them that he was getting better. He should be back to work in a month or so.
But Shawn was a familiar. Ezra had told him what that meant. She hadn't just done it for the fun.
Buck smiled grimly and wiped some wet strands of hair out of his face.
She was blackmailing Ezra into making Chris a vampire. That was what it came down to. Buck had no problem with the possible change of his friend. If it meant that he would live, he would gladly accept the package that would come with it. If Chris died, despite the fact that Ezra could have saved him.... Wilmington didn't know what to feel.
I want to believe in modern medicine. I want to call everything else humbug.
He shivered.
But I've seen too much already. I can't hope because of it. I don't dare to.
A pair of warm arms encircled him and he automatically leaned into the familiar body of his lover. Vin wordlessly hugged him, arms tightening around his lover.
"Come in. You're wet and cold," Tanner murmured.
Buck inhaled deeply, then simply followed him inside.
God, please, let her be wrong!

* * *

The first week at home. Chris lay in the fold-out chair, wrapped in blankets, actually feeling pretty good. The large sliding doors were open, letting a fresh, warm breeze into the apartment. It was late afternoon and the sky had taken on a beautiful blue color, a few clouds dotting it.
"There's room for two," he remarked as Ezra placed a mug of soup next to him on a low table.
The vampire smiled slightly. "Is that an invitation?"
"It's a damn order, Standish!" he growled.
Ezra had been treating him like a god-damn porcelain doll, barely touching him any more than he had in the hospital, and while Chris had to confess he slept a lot, he did want to have Ezra with him in bed. Even if strenuous activities were not on his scale of doable things right now. But he wanted his lover's nearness, feel him, kiss him, and Ezra wasn't ready to play along.
"Yes, Sir," Ezra replied, chuckling.
"I'm not gonna break," Chris muttered as Ezra over-cautiously maneuvered himself onto the chair, behind Chris so he could wrap his arms around him.
"I know."
"Then why do you treat me like I'm made of glass?" he demanded, his voice harsher than planned.
Ezra stiffened, then a soft sigh came from his lips. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware of my... change of behavior."
"Damnit, Ezra! I'm sick, but I'm not going to end up in a thousand pieces on the floor if you just so much as hug me!" He interlaced his fingers with Ezra's, squeezing them. "I know I still need to recuperate and that anything but this will probably floor me, but I want to have you close. You can hug me, you can kiss me..."
A soft kiss was placed against the side of his neck. "Like this?"
"Yeah, like this," he said softly.
Lips trailed from his neck to his earlobe, gently tonguing it.
"And like this," Chris murmured.
"I'm sorry," Ezra apologized again. "It's just..."
Hands tightened and Chris sank back into the compact body. He had gained weight again. At the hospital, he had lost some because he had had trouble eating with his sore mouth and gums, but the calorie-heavy IVs had taken care of the worst. Ezra himself had done the rest here at home.
"I love you, Chris," Ezra said softly.
"I love you, too," Chris replied.
He was only too much aware of what his lover had done for him and it touched something deep inside. Chris fell asleep in the vampire's hold, dozing off, snuggled into the warmth of the familiar, hard body and the blanket.

* * *

The doorbell announcing a visitor surprised both men and Ezra gestured at Chris to stay where he was sitting on the couch. He'd get it. When he opened the door, he was surprised to look at a young man who somehow struck him as familiar. He was dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt with a comic figure called 'Wolverine' on the front.
"Yes? How can I help you?"
A mild frown crossed the teenager's face. "Looking for Chris Larabee?"
And then it struck Ezra. Larabee. Of course! He should have known. The whitish blond hair, the brown eyes, and the younger version of his lover's facial features.
"Come on in. He's on the couch." Over his shoulder he called, "Chris! Your son!"
"You Ezra Standish?" Drew asked.
Ezra shot him a surprised look. "Yes, I am."
"We talked on the phone once."
A long time ago, the vampire mused. "Yes, we did."
Chris's face was an almost comical display of surprise and shock. "Drew?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm at a Con here in Salt Lake. Thought I'd drop by and see how you are. Mom told me you're out of the hospital," Andrew Larabee explained, shrugging. "Called Buck and he said you're home. Got some time?"
"Sure. Come in. Want something to drink?"
"You got Mountain Dew?"
Ezra shook his head. "Nope, sorry. Josiah went shopping and he brought home Diet Coke and something terrible called Dr. Pepper."
"Cool!" Drew exclaimed.
"Hm, Dr. Pepper it is then." Ezra walked into the kitchen.
"What kind of Con?" Chris wanted to know as Drew plopped into the armchair.
"Comics. Mom paid for the ticket. I'm here with some friends of mine. Took a cab from the hotel I'm staying at." Drew took the can from Ezra and opened it. "Con's over already and I have another day till I leave. So, how are you?"
Ezra slipped out into the kitchen to leave the two alone while Chris told his son about the recent events, his stay at the hospital and the prognosis. When he came back, a pair of young, brown eyes watched him.
"So, you a colleague of my Dad?"
Ezra smiled amiably. "Not exactly. I'm not in law enforcement, actually. I only helped out with a case once."
He nodded. "'Kay." Drew was silent for a heartbeat, then asked, "What exactly are you then?"
Ezra's smile never wavered. "I have a business here in Salt Lake."
"'Kay."
"Ezra's staying with me throughout recovery," Chris intervened.
Standish almost rolled his eyes. Good move, Mr. Larabee. Go and tell him right away. Of course Chris had planned on revealing his relationship with Ezra to Andrew, but currently he wasn't steering the conversation well.
"Ah. You wanna go out to dinner later?"
Chris shook his head. "Sorry. I'm currently not very much of an enduring person, son. Ezra can tell you how often I just fall asleep."
"Right in the middle of a bite, falling face first into his soup. It can be downright embarrassing in public restaurants," Ezra added dryly, drawing a grimace from Chris.
"'Kay. We could order out, maybe watch some video, talk?" Drew offered.
"Sounds like a plan."
"Mrow!"
Andrew's eyes widened slightly and he smiled. "You have a kitten?"
"Actually, she is Ezra's. Drew, may I introduce Shawn." Chris smiled.
Drew held out one hand to the cat and Shawn's neck stretched to sniff at the offered limb. The teenager smiled when the wet nose snuffled over his fingers, then pushed her head against it.
"Hey, Shawn," he said softly and carefully scratched her head.
She started to purr.
"Cute kitty. Uh, no offense, but isn't she a bit... round?"
Chris chuckled again. "She's pregnant, son."
"Oh, cool!"
 

Ezra stood in the kitchen once more, putting away the leftovers and stacking the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. When he turned he became aware of someone in the kitchen.
"Drew. What can I do for you?" he asked the younger Larabee.
"Where do you sleep?" Drew wanted to know.
"Pardon?"
"Dad said you're staying with him. So, where do you sleep?"
The vampire sighed silently. The boy was sharp; well, he was a Larabee.
"The couch's not exactly for sleeping," Drew went on. "And there's no guest room either. Where do you stay?"
Ezra looked over Drew's shoulder and caught sight of his lover walking into the kitchen. "Yes, a valid question, Drew. Where do I sleep?"
He directed his question at Chris, catching him off balance.
"Huh, what?" Chris stuttered.
"Drew wants to know where I sleep, Chris." Ezra leaned back and folded one arm over his chest, the other holding a mug to his lips as he sipped at some coffee.
"Ah, well... actually...."
"What your father wants to tell you," Ezra turned to the son, "in his very verbose way, is that I sleep in the bedroom."
Drew's eyes narrowed slightly and he looked back and forth between the two men. "Same bed?" he wanted to know.
"Yes."
The brown eyes studied his father and Ezra hid his smile behind the mug. Chris shot a lethal glare at him.
"Since when?"
"A little over a year," Ezra supplied the answer when Chris failed to do so.
Larabee was completely overrun by events. Whatever had planned to tell his son, whatever he had rehearsed, everything had suddenly gotten out of control.
"So... you're a couple? Steady and all?"
Chris nodded silently.
"Does Mom know?"
Another nod.
Drew frowned. "And she didn't tell me?"
"She said I'd have to tell you," Chris told him.
"And you where planning to do that when?"
Chris looked a bit sheepish. "Actually... I didn't know when..."
Drew shrugged. "Well, now I know."
"And you're okay with it?"
"I'm cool, Dad. Hey, I'm no virgin, y'know. No shock here. Just surprised." Drew shrugged. "Never figured my Dad would be gay, but hey... I'm cool." He grinned.
Ezra grinned broadly. Yep, a Larabee. Taking it all in a stride. He shot his lover a look and saw an expression of relief and pride on Chris's features.
"I'm glad, Drew."
"So, you two live together?"
"Not really. Ezra moved in to help me, but we live apart."
"Sex any good?"
The question was posed so casually, Ezra nearly laughed out loud. Chris spewed out some of the coffee he had just sipped at. Drew smiled at his father. Ezra simply raised an eyebrow at Chris.
"Well?" the vampire wanted to know, a mischievous smile on his features.
Chris glared daggers at him, then shot his son a stern look.
"Dad, like I said, I'm no virgin. And our teachers said it's a completely natural fact of life." The innocence in the statement had Ezra chuckle, which earned him more daggers. "So, on a scale from 0 to 10, ten being it leaves you unconscious, what is it?"
Ezra bit his lip to contain the bubbling laughter. Drew shot him a look that was just as full of mischief as the questions. Ezra decided he liked the teen. Like father, like son.
"Is he at least a five?" Drew wanted to know when Chris refused to answer. "No?" He looked at Ezra. "Man, you have to work on your style, Ezra."
"Apparently." Ezra placed the mug in the sink. "Have to work on my style, hm?" He walked past Chris, smiling sweetly at him. "He's a Larabee all right," he murmured, which earned him the glare of death. "Have fun."
"Traitor," Chris grumbled.

*

end part 3
 
 

Drew left the following afternoon. Chris and Ezra accompanied him to the airport.
"Should you be out and driving?" Chris grumbled as he took the passenger seat once more.
Ezra gave him a light smile. "I had my shakes, Chris. I'll have another one when we get back. Now sit back and relax. I can drive, you know."
Drew threw his stuff in the trunk and closed the rear door. "Okay, ready to go!"
The arrived at the airport an hour later and Drew was off another two hours after that.

* * *

Fourteen days. Fourteen wonderful days.  Chris had developed an appetite, he was gaining weight. He slept normal hours again, was awake longer, was more active. Ezra spent every possible minute with his lover, driving them to places, going to the movies, always as long as Chris could last. Due to his still weakened state, activities in bed were restricted to cuddling and kissing, which was more than enough for Ezra. The others dropped by on the weekends, talking, laughing, having fun.
Fourteen days.
But on day fifteen, things changed. Ezra wasn't really aware of it at first, but in the evening he discovered that Chris's voice sounded scratchy.
"I'm fine, lover," Chris murmured as he snuggled up to him in bed.
Ezra's worried eyes took in the exposed flesh, looking for signs, but Chris had eaten okay lately. He was healthier. In the morning, Chris sniffled a bit, but he pushed Ezra's worries away. The vampire watched him, anxious and jumpy. At the first sneeze, he bundled his lover up, under great protests from the patient, and called Martin. His driver was the apartment half an hour later.
"I'm fine!" Chris protested, sneezing promptly.
"Chris, no arguments!" Ezra told him firmly. "Martin, get him to the clinic and into Oncology. I'll call Vin."
"Ezra!"
Intense, green eyes met Chris's and the blond sighed. "Please, Chris," the vampire pleaded softly.
"Okay. But you'll see, it's nothing. You're too jumpy, Ez."
The car pulled away.
Too jumpy. Ezra swallowed. He prayed it was only that.

* * *

The pneumonia developed within the next twelve hours. Ezra stared at his lover through the transparent wall that separated them, one hand pressed against the pane, fingers splayed. Chris coughed weakly in his sleep and the breathing apparatus regulated to adjust to the spasm. Antibiotics were pumped into his system, fighting the infection.
Pneumonia. A relapse. He squeezed his eyes shut. Lord, no... please....
His head sank against the windowpane and he felt tremors race through his body.
Lord, please, don't.
A hand fell on his shoulder and he started, whirling around. Josiah smiled calmly at him.
"Ezra?" he said softly.
Ezra scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. Pull yourself together, Standish! he told himself harshly. You're too old to have nervous breakdowns now!
Wishful thinking...
"He's on antibiotics," he murmured, walking away from the window. "No one but the nurses and doctors are allowed in until the infection is beaten."
Josiah guided him over to a seating arrangement and the vampire sank onto one of the chairs. "Vin, Buck and JD are still at work. Nathan's at home, sleeping since he had standby. Vin asked me to come over and keep you company until the others could come by."
"Thanks," Ezra murmured.
Josiah's hand still rested on his shoulder, but he barely even felt it.
Relapse.
The word echoed over and over in his mind.
Relapse.
Accompanied by the image of a pregnant black familiar.
I'm not strong enough for this.

* * *

Buck gazed emptily out onto the street below. Just beyond this window, life went on as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed. People didn't think about the hundreds of men and women trapped within the walls of this hospital, waiting. Healing.
He swallowed hard.
Chris wasn't healing. He had had a relapse and Buck knew what it meant. It was back and it was worse than before. Dr. Hamblin had said so. The relapse had occurred with such violence, she was surprised herself. For now, they had to fight the pneumonia. Later, they had to see.
Buck pushed away from the window and his eyes were drawn to the other man in the waiting room. Ezra had been here since Vin had picked him up last evening. He hadn't left. Green eyes rose to meet his gaze as Ezra felt it resting on him. What Wilmington saw in them made him want to be sick. He whirled around and left the waiting room.

* * *

A week after the relapse, Ezra walked into hospital, feeling tense and like he would throw up any second. It was a curious feeling, especially the nausea, because he had nothing in his stomach to feel queasy with.
"Mr. Standish?" a quiet voice addressed him.
Ezra turned and looked into the compassionate face of Dr. Lara Hamblin.
"Dr. Hamblin," Ezra replied, his voice calmer than he felt.
"Come with me, please."
Hamblin led him through Oncology, passing rooms upon rooms of people who all needed help, who gave help and some who were beyond help. She aimed for one of the many doors and entered, Ezra in tow. The vampire swallowed as he looked at the single bed.
"How long?" her asked, his mouth dry, his voice that of a stranger.
"Mr. Standish...."
"I said, how long," he repeated patiently.
"I'm not sure. Two weeks, maybe three. We're looking for bone marrow donors, but chances are slim. We could resume chemotherapy, but Mr. Larabee has declined. He asked to go home."
Ezra nodded.
He found his eyes fixed hypnotically on the rise and fall of Chris's chest. Every breath meant he was continuing to live. The pneumonia had been fought down with heavy antibiotics, but the danger of a reinfection with whatever else was out there was ever-present. His immune system was in a bad state.
"Thank you," he addressed Hamblin.
"I'll get the release papers ready. You can take him home tomorrow morning."
Another nod.
Sitting down Ezra watched his lover sleep, wishing he could do anything ...anything at all. He felt so helpless. All he could do was hope and he knew it was not enough.
It looked bad.

* * *

The next morning, Buck picked up Ezra and Chris from the hospital. Chris was pale, weak, and coughing slightly. Ezra was silent, sitting in the back next to his lover, holding him close. No words were exchanged, but Buck saw the dull expression in the vampire's eyes. He didn't even flinch away from the sun when they walked the short distance between the parking lot and the apartment complex.
"Hey, Chris."
Vin had already gone ahead and prepared everything, smiling at his friend as the three men walked up the stairs. Chris gave him an exhausted smile, the short trip having robbed him of all his left-over strength.
"Bed," Ezra decided.
"Couch," Chris contradicted. "I want to be somewhere else for at least a while."
Ezra dredged up a smile and helped Larabee over to the couch. Buck watched the two men and his stomach twisted again as Shawn appeared, jumping onto the coffee table. Her belly had grown in size. Ezra looked at her, taking in the state of her pregnancy, and he glared. She just looked back at him.
"Morw," she made calmly, hopping onto the couch and rubbing against Chris.
Larabee smiled softly. "Hey, Shawn."
"You want something to drink?" Vin asked.
Chris shook his head, scratching the cat. "No, I'm fine. You're all my babysitters now?"
Tanner chuckled. "No, we're actually taking turns. I've to be back soon. Buck took a day off for today."
Chris only nodded.
 

Ezra leaned his head against the kitchen fridge, feeling his body shake. The day had passed slowly, mostly sitting in front of the TV, with Chris in his arms, listening to the raspy breathing. His lover was drugged up to the eyebrows, full of antibiotics, and he wasn't hungry. He ate a little soup, but only after a lot of coaxing, and he gamely tried to hold up a conversation, but mostly he was too out of it.
From the living room, raspy coughing could be heard. Ezra walked inside, quickly at Chris's side, and helped him into a comfortable position as he tried to free his congested lungs. He offered him some tea, which Chris drank reluctantly, then lowered the blond back onto the pillows. Chris dozed off once more.
The vampire looked around the empty apartment, sighing deeply. Buck had left the afternoon to pick up Vin, since the geologist's car had broken down. He would be back as soon as he could. He was alone with Chris and his own thoughts, which were piling up around him, pressuring him.
Buck came back an hour later while Chris was still sleeping. He nodded a greeting at Ezra.
"How is he?"
"Asleep."
"Good. Vin's at the garage. I think it's just a minor thing and he'll be here ASAP."
Ezra nodded and rose.
"Where are you going?"
"Out for some air."
Buck frowned and followed the vampire out of the apartment and into the warm night.
"Ezra..."
"Buck, leave me alone, please. I just need to...."
"Get away?" Wilmington asked neutrally. "Not see how bad he's off?"
"Buck."
"Looks like you're running to me!"
Ezra stopped as if he had run into a wall. "I'm not running, Buck," he whispered harshly.
"Oh, yes you are. You're running from the decision you have to make, right? Well, Standish, what will it be? The cat was right, wasn't she? Chris didn't get better! He's dying! It's time for a decision!"
"This life... my life... I wouldn't want anyone to have to go through it. Ever," Ezra whispered. "I'd condemn Chris to a life as a monster, in darkness, alone and away from his friends."
Buck shook his head. "First of all, you aren't a monster, pard. You are Ezra Standish, a really nice guy and the partner of my oldest friend. Someone who's been damn good for him. Don't care what you are. Just looking at what you do is enough for me." Buck's expression was dead serious. "Second, you don't live in darkness. Hell, if you were anything like the vampires in the movies, okay. But you aren't. Third, Chris will never be alone. He has you. You love him, right? You want to be with him? And we are his friends. Just because he's a vampire wouldn't change that. Ezra, face it: Chris's ... birth and life wouldn't be like yours."
"What makes you believe that?" Ezra's voice was harsh and bitter, holding something underneath Buck couldn't quite identify.
"He has you! Goddammit, Ezra! If you love him..." Buck staggered back as Ezra all but exploded into his face, eyes glowing with a dangerous glitter deep in them. Whoa!
"If I love him, Buck? You have no idea what it means ... what the love of a vampire means! We are monsters! We kill!"
"But you haven't..."
"How do you know I haven't, Buck? I am a vampire after all, I live off blood, off killing." Ezra looked at him and stepped closer, intimidating Wilmington, but he didn't actually touch. It was enough to make Buck stagger back, unless his back touched the wall behind him.
"Have you ever been so hungry that it leaves you craving for whatever food you can get? That it erases every rational thought? That it only leaves the animal that follows its instincts? What if your food would mean killing a sentient life form? Another human being? What if you couldn't stop yourself? You'd take whatever you can get, whether it be friend or foe. Even a loved one, someone who trusts you. You wouldn't know the difference. You'd only know the hunger, the driving, endless hunger that burns so hot, it will devour you in the end. You won't just wound. You will kill for it."
Ezra turned, face expressionless, but the eyes glowed again in that eerie light.
"Chris would become such an animal. No remorse, no conscience. He would kill to still the hunger. Even you."
Buck swallowed, but his anger was stronger than his rational mind. He had seen his share of horror movies. Movie blood and gore. Ezra had told them that vampires made up their own image, that little was actually true. But still, some deep grain of truth remained.
"But you didn't kill us back then... when you were hungry," he argued.
Ezra laughed humorlessly. "You were lucky. If I had really tried, even Luther wouldn't have been able to hold me."
"Chris wouldn't have to be like that. He has you. Us. We would care for him!"
"Yeah, right...."
The anger multiplied. "We are his friends! We won't turn away from him!"
"No? What makes you so sure? Ten years down the road and he might be craving death! You have no idea, Wilmington. None at all! Leave me alone!"
He turned his back to Buck, indicating that this talk had just ended.
Oh no, Buck decided. Not so fast. Chris's life was at stake here, and Ezra's too...
"No, I won't! You're his last, best hope!" Buck reached out and grabbed Ezra's arm to turn the man around, make him face him. It was a mistake. Ezra whirled around, and this time his eyes were glowing dangerously. Buck had awoken the vampire.
"I am nothing like that. I am a nightmare! And you better release me at once, Mr. Wilmington, before I do something we both might regret later."
"Mr. Wilmington it is now, all right? Listen Ezra, I don't plan on letting this 'matter' rest just like that. It's Chris we're talking here!  So you had no friends when you were turned," Buck lashed out, uncaring what he hit. "That why you won't help Chris? Why you'll condemn him? Well, he has friends, Standish! Look the word up in a dictionary if you have to!"
The moment the words were out, Buck could have bit his tongue. Ah hell, no....
Ezra's body had relaxed in Buck's grip, shoulder's slumping, head sinking down on the chest and he thought he had finally gotten through to the vampire. But with the last words Ezra did explode. His head jerked up, his eyes flared and a snarl left his lips. It was a sound unlike anything Buck had ever heard come from human lips. With a speed that wasn't human either, the vampire pinned the hapless man against the brick wall.
Buck stared in horror at the inhuman expression, the vampire eyes, and bone-deep fear hit him. He saw a fist thrown at him - with full vampire force. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the impact.
It didn't come.
He felt the air shift as Ezra let loose, only to be showered in bits or mortar and brick. A shrapnel bit into his cheek, leaving a bloody mark.
"Do you know what you want from me? Really know? You want me to kill Chris. Not just mix my blood with his, but to kill him first! Do you know what I have to do to make him a vampire? I have to suck him dry! Every little bit of blood! He will die! Only then he will come back! And I don't even know if it would work," he added in a harsh whisper.
The hand that had held him in place let go and he heard harsh breathing. When Buck dared to open his eyes again, Ezra was gone. He shakily sank along the wall, coming to sit on the floor. Above him, right next to where his head had been seconds ago, a fist-sized hole told of what he had just confronted. Ezra's blow had gone clear through stone, leaving a ragged hole. Not just a dent. A hole. He noticed the fresh stains of blood.
Ezra's.
He had just met the vampire, the creature behind the handsome façade, and Buck knew he was lucky that Ezra had had enough control in his rage not to punch his head into that wall.

* * *

Chris was drifting. His mind felt like it was filled with molasses, moving ever so slowly, unable to hold a thought sometimes. The medication fighting back the infections he had had lately left him woozy, his brain packed in cotton wool. The pneumonia had been successfully fought off, but smaller colds had settled in. His system was weakened with every single one. Chris wondered what time of day it was. He was simply dozing, sometimes sleeping for hours in a row, finding it was still bright day outside when he woke again. Ezra was with him, sometimes one of the others, but he began to fight their presence. He didn't want them to see him like this. He wanted to be alone. Ezra persisted, though. He was there, a constant companion, his touches the only reality Chris felt sometimes.
He was at home. It was a comforting thought, the only one he had had after the fatal diagnosis of a relapse. No more therapy. He was sick of it. He was sick of feeling sick, of the fear of another relapse after a few weeks filled with hope. Chris knew he had signed his death certificate with that decision, but while he wanted to fight, he was also too tired. Tired of nurses and doctors poking holes into him, injecting drugs, waiting for him to throw up.
In a moment of complete clarity, he and Ezra had talked. About his decision, the sickness, the diagnosis, his future. The little Chris knew he had left. And he had touched a topic he had started to think about ever since the first day in the hospital. Chris had asked his lover, only once, and he had seen Ezra's face freeze, his whole body tense, and he had known before the vampire had spoken that his request would be denied.
"I can't," Ezra had whispered. "Chris, I can't..."
He couldn't. Chris had almost laughed. Any other vampire might be able to do it, but aside from Luther he didn't know anyone. Well, anyone he trusted. There was Harriet, the blonde waitress. She was a nice enough girl, but he doubted she would honor his request. Ezra was the top dog in this town and what he said was the law. No other vampire would ever touch Chris. Or Franklin. No, not Franklin. The man wouldn't touch him either.
He smiled sadly to himself. Well, Ezra wouldn't have to worry about this much longer.

* * *

Luther looked up from where he was busy going through the latest wad of bills - for the second time in a row - trying to find the necessary concentration to check and approve them. Lately, he had found it difficult to concentrate on business stuff. Most of his time was spent watching Ezra when he was around or worrying over his friend when he wasn't. The older vampire had grown paler than ever, looked gaunt and haggard, and he ignored life around him completely.
When Vin Tanner walked down into the Grotto, Luther felt a frown crease his forehead, a feeling of foreboding spreading through his system. The young werewolf nodded at Harriet, who was currently checking the bar contents, then approached him.
"What can I do for you?" Luther asked.
Vin's face was drawn, pale, and there was an almost desperate expression in his eyes. "Have you seen Ezra?"
Luther put down his pen. "No. Why?"
"Chris was admitted again." With that, Tanner sank onto the other chair at the table. "Had pneumonia. He fought through it. Declined further therapy in the hospital. Came home yesterday."
Good Lord, Luther thought, an icy feeling curling in his stomach. Please, no ...
"It's back, Luther," Vin said softly, looking the vampire straight in the eyes.
"How long?" he only asked.
"Two weeks. Four weeks tops. The doc's not thinking tops, though. His system's weak, too weak, and it's progressing at a much faster rate than earlier."
The icy feeling transformed into a fist that punched Luther, winding him. He closed his eyes. After a moment he looked at the werewolf again. "Was Ezra there?"
"For a while. He helped Chris, but then... he walked away. Buck and he had a little... disagreement." Vin ran a hand through his short hair. "After that... he disappeared."
He nodded slowly. "I understand. I haven't seen Ezra since the day before yesterday."
"Any idea where he might be?"
Luther frowned, thinking. "Off hand, no. I'll have to check in with some... friends. I'll let you know."
Vin nodded his acceptance and rose. Luther watched him leave, noting the dejected, broken slump of his shoulders.
"Harry?" he called.
The female vampire approached him, her blue eyes holding a worried look. She had watched Vin come and go, and she, too, had noticed his posture.
"Yes?"
"I'll have to leave for today. Please call Martin and let him know I need a taxi."
She nodded, not asking any questions.
Luther leaned back in his chair and massaged the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.
This could get ugly.

* * *

A broken looking building stood lonely and forgotten at the outskirts. Several decades this had been a flourishing neighborhood, but people had left one by one, the empty buildings now open to anyone who needed shelter. Today someone had parked in front of the large double doors that hung precariously in their hinges. The visitor pushed the doors open and stepped into the twilight of the room behind them.
Nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
But something was here nevertheless.
Luther walked into the dark, empty room, his senses telling him that there was someone else present. He could smell it, he could hear it, he could almost feel it. The odor of alcohol was everywhere. His vampire eyesight showed him his surroundings as if it was clear daylight and he singled out the source of the smell within a heartbeat.
"Leave."
Ezra's voice was flat and he didn't even look up from where he sat on a table, a bottle of whiskey in front of him. Two empty ones were already on the floor. Luther grimaced. Even with a vampire metabolism, two bottles would wreak havoc on Standish's system.
"Ezra, we need to talk."
"I said leave!"
"No."
"I have nothing to say to you!" the smaller vampire hissed, taking a draw from the bottle.
"I didn't come here to listen to you. I came here to talk." Luther closed the distance, sighing as he took in the bedraggled state of his friend and boss.
Ezra usually took good care of himself and the clothes he wore. Now his hair stood up on end, he was paler than any vampire he had ever seen, and his clothes hadn't been changed for a while.
"Why aren't you with Chris?"
Ezra didn't answer. He simply stared at the table.
"Your lover needs you, Ezra."
"None of your business." The voice was flat again, completely without emotions.
"It is my business. You are my business. Chris is, too."
"Fuck off," Ezra hissed.
Luther shook his head again. "No chance."
Standish turned away again.
"You are his last chance, Ezra," Luther went on. "His very last chance. You know it, I know it. Are you aware that he once came to me to ask about the turning, the vampirism? It was before this shit happened, Ezra. He had been thinking about your future together already."
The chestnut head came up and there was a dangerous glint in the green eyes.
"I know he asked you, too. Not directly, but he asked in his own way. Chris knew you wouldn't do it, so he asked me."
Ezra snarled softly.
"I won't turn him, Ezra. He is your lover, part of your soul," Luther drove the point home. "It's your decision."
"You're damn right it's my decision! I won't do it!" Standish growled.
"Neither will I, Ezra. Because he is yours. You decide."
"No!"
"It's in your hands," the dark-skinned man went on, feeling the tension rise, watching the muscles bunch under the rumpled clothes. "This time, it's in your hands. The problem with hard decisions isn't making them, Ezra, it's learning to live with the consequences. You can make him live. You can watch him die. But if you choose the latter, you will have forfeit the chance to make it all right."
"All right?!" Ezra screamed and exploded from the table. The bottle went flying to shatter on the floor. "All right? What's all right about this?" he demanded, eyes aglow in a burning fire. "I have it in my hands to turn him into a monster!"
"We are not monsters, Ezra. Chris will make the decision based on what he has seen and experienced in the past year. He knows what he's getting into...."
The table was kicked into one corner by a vicious foot. "He has no idea!" Ezra spat. "None at all! He doesn't know! No one knows!"
"I made my decision freely," Luther reminded him.
"For the wrong reasons!"
"What is the right reason then? If you don't use the power you have, if you don't give him that chance..."
The rest of it was cut off when Ezra rushed at him, slamming the larger man against the wall. Luther winced as he was shoved hard enough into the bricks to leave a dent in the plaster.
"Shut the fuck up! You don't know anything, Luther! Anything! I love him! I won't let him become a monster like me! An addict on blood, shying away from the sun... unable to live a normal life!"
Ezra's voice had risen with each sentence. He abruptly let go off the other vampire and turned to slump against the wall as well. He slid down onto the grimy floor, burying his face in his hands.
"He won't have any kind of life, Ezra," Luther said softly, looking down onto his friend. "Only death. You should give yourself this chance. This time, you can. This time, you have an influence over it."
With that he turned and left.

* * *

He wandered the streets, lost and alone. He passed by the open restaurants and bars, the shops and street vendors, ignoring everything and everyone. Ezra Standish had no eyes for the life around him. A life he had partaken in for so many years, ever since the former head of the Salt Lake City community had passed on. Ever since he had unwillingly slipped into this position, fighting it at first. Like he had fought so many good things in his life.
Ezra smiled wryly. Yes, the good things in his life. Everything he had loved and cherished had passed away.
This time it didn't have to be like it.
'I want you here, for me, with me... at my side. For the rest of my life. Forever.'
The vampire stopped, feeling tremors race down his spine. His stomach twisted in pain.
I'm running again, he thought. From him, from everything.
He walked on after a while, aimless, lost and alone. His treacherous mind guided his feet to the apartment complex he had been so often before. Ezra couldn't stop himself from entering, using the key Chris had entrusted to him.
He stood in the apartment and looked around, not really sure what he was looking for.
"Ezra?" he heard Buck call and the tall man walked out of the kitchen, a surprised look on his face.
The two men looked at each other, silent, sizing each other up, and Ezra detected apprehension in the man's frame. The last time they had met, Ezra had nearly put Buck's head through the wall.
"Chris is in the bedroom," Wilmington only said.
Ezra headed toward the door, and it felt as if the strength was draining from him with every step he took. He wanted to be by Chris's side, wanted to hold him, comfort him, fight with him, for him...
The man that turned around to face him wasn't Chris Larabee anymore. Ezra had seen him fight the cancer, had seen him before, but now ... he didn't even look like death warmed over anymore. Skin pale, the once so living hazel eyes dull and empty, deeply sunken in as well. A bathrobe was wrapped around the fragile body. Nevertheless he smiled at him.
"Ezra..."
Ezra's gaze was fixed on his lover, and he stepped closer. Chris swayed a little and Buck caught him, helping him lay down on the bed. Ezra felt something inside him break at the sight, something that had been stretched for far too long.
"I can't," he whispered brokenly.
'I'm willing to take that gamble for once in my life. With you.'
Ezra turned to leave, the image of the frail form on the bed burned into his mind.
'And if you go, I'll be there with you. You're mine.'
Tears threatened. Words from so long ago, words he had never forgotten, surfaced like ancient demons. As Ezra whirled around, blinking the tears away, he heard it, whispered soft and sad, calling out for him, begging him...
"But you promised."
He flinched as if he had been physically slapped. Oh god... he couldn't.... It hurt. Deep inside him he heard another voice from another time.
Lord, please, he whispered desperately in his mind.
'We see this through together, Chris. You are not alone.'
Yes, he had promised. And he had again been unable to keep it.
The door closed after him.
"I'm ... sorry ..."
And Ezra Standish ran.

* * *

He had no idea how he managed to come home, but according to the fact that he was standing in his house he obviously had. Words and promises repeated themselves over and over in his mind, mingling with other words from other times, images of dead hazel eyes that looked at him in despair and disappointment. The eyes of the man he loved with his heart and soul. Whatever was left of both, now that this man was dying ... He had let him down. Ezra threw his head back as all this pain and torture broke free, as the despair and hopelessness burst out in one single movement.
Ezra Standish's soul screamed in agony.
Nothing ever stood a chance. Not the table, not the chair, not the display case. They broke under the barrage of sheer, unrestrained force. A power unleashed no one had ever seen like this before. Like a force of nature, a storm of immense proportions, an earthquake off the Richter scale, it tore through the townhouse, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. Paintings were torn off walls, falling victim. A shelf was thrown down, the books falling into untidy heaps. In the kitchen, the few plates and glasses shattered on the tiled floor, a myriad of broken pieces crunching under booted feet. Doors were torn off their hinges, big or small, and one thrown piece of furniture left a hole in the wall.
The force of nature didn't stop at just the first floor. It tore through every single room, screaming, raging, yelling. Leaving a wake of broken objects.
Green eyes fell onto the large mirror in the bedroom. Green eyes that were no longer shielded, no longer human. Deep anguish, despair and pain had surfaced out of a tormented soul. Tears brimmed but didn't fall.
The mirror shattered, taking with it the reflection of complete and utter loss, an agony so deeply rooted, nothing could express it.
 

Emptiness.
It was all that there was left.
Emptiness and a numbness he had never felt before.
The pain, the fear, the desperation - they had made way for the all-encompassing emptiness. It was like a weird calm; not the calm before the storm. Just a general feeling of... non-emotions.
All strength left him and he collapsed in the middle of the debris and chaos he had created within less than twenty minutes. Ezra's breath came in short gasps, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm down. He stared at his hand, the skin torn in places. He felt blood trickle down his fingers, gazing at it in mute fascination.
"No," he whispered to himself. "No, no, no....."
The vampire squeezed his eyes shut as the pain returned once more with a vengeance.
"Why?" he moaned brokenly. "Why him? Why again? Dear Lord, what have I done? Why me?"
Tears fell down his pale cheeks, the first tears he had allowed to come ever since the first time Chris had been admitted and then diagnosed. He clenched his hands into fists and weakly beat at the floor. He sank forward, curling into a small ball of misery.
Time passed. He wasn't aware of it. He was aware of little. The pain in his hands faded into nothingness.
"Mrow."
The soft noise made him look up and Ezra gazed into the large, green eyes of his little companion. Shawn sat just a few feet away from him, her round belly protruding left and right of her.
The familiar and the vampire looked at each other and Ezra swallowed heavily.
"Why?" he whispered.
"Reow."
"It's happening all over again. Just like then. One year. Just a year.... Lord, I can't take it!" He wrapped his arms around his body and shivered. "Not again."
Shawn tilted her head. "Mrowt," she suggested.
"Shawn... no ... I can't do it."
"Mroww!"
He stared at her belly, aware that within a week, she would have a litter of newly borns. One of them would be like her. A familiar. And the new familiar would seek a companion.
"I can't do this to him," he stammered.
Her silent gaze made him turn his head away. Luther's words came back to him. He had a choice this time. He had the power this time. He could make a difference. He, and no one else.

"I just acted... didn't think.... and when it was over, I felt so empty. I felt bad about it... having killed her... despite the things she did. Then there was the satisfaction... and that scared me as well. I was pleased to have ended her life, I had wanted to see the light die in her eyes, see the man who shot her. I couldn't understand it all. I felt like a monster and a saint in one."
"You are neither," Chris murmured. "You are a man.

Ezra inhaled shakily. Memories came at the most inopportune times...
"I'm not strong enough for this," he whispered.
 
* * *

"And he just left?" Josiah asked quietly.
Buck nodded, his eyes dark, whirlpools of emotions. "He said 'I can't' and left."
"Can't what?" Nathan wanted to know.
Buck inhaled deeply. "Make Chris into a vampire."
The two men were silent, both looking slightly shocked.
"He offered?" Sanchez wanted to know, folding his hands as he leaned forward to rest his lower arms on his knees.
"No. No, he didn't. Chris... he kinda asked. Me, I talked with him about it." Buck laughed nervously. "Hell. The way that talk went, I'm glad I still have my head on my shoulders. He was... touchy. He completely freaked when I asked him why he wouldn't give Chris this chance to live. He said he didn't want to make him into a monster."
Josiah nodded slowly. "Ezra is a mite touchy when it comes to the creation of a vampire. A creation that involves him. I think it has to do with his past, his own death and rebirth."
"Josiah, we're not talking about Ezra here!" Buck exploded. "This is Chris! He will die!"
The psychologist looked calmly at him. "Yes, that is a fact of life."
"But he doesn't have to die! Ezra can save him!"
Josiah met the irate gaze levelly. "It's Ezra's decision, Buck. Don't you think this is just as hard on him, even much harder? He and Chris share more than friendship. They've been together for little over a year, but even I can see that this runs deep. Ezra loves him, Buck."
"If he loves him, he should save him!"
"Maybe because he loves him he won't do what everyone expects him to do."
"Bullshit!"
Buck exploded from his seat and paced the confines of the room. Nathan and Josiah exchanged knowing looks.
"He has the power in his hands!" Buck whispered harshly. "He has it! Why won't he use it? Maybe he figures he just has to wait for another Larabee to come along!" the chemist hissed. "He has all the time in the world!"
Nathan rose from his chair and grabbed Buck by the arms, pushing him hard against the wall. "Shut up, Buck!" he ordered sharply. "You're talking shit here!"
"Vin told us about your talk with Ezra, Buck," Josiah told him, voice still calm. "Ezra just about told you he'd end his own life if Chris ever dies."
"So he has a death wish," Buck snarled. "Great! But I can't just sit and watch and know that there's help... that Ezra could help Chris..."
Nathan wrapped an arm around the man and guided him back to the couch. "We're all at the end of our rope," the pathologist murmured softly.
Buck shrugged off the comfort and glared at him.
"Where's Vin anyway?" Josiah asked, switching the topic.
"Went over to Ezra's," Buck answered. "Wanted to have another go."

* * *

The door swung in its hinges, half open.
"Holy...." Vin whispered as he looked around the trashed townhouse.
Not good. Not good at all!
The place looked like a tornado had conspired with an earthquake and had struck. Nothing was where it had been. Shelves had been overturned, all prints had been torn off the walls, and even the kitchen furniture had been turned into firewood. The door from the kitchen had been ripped out and thrown clear across the room where it had impacted with the wall and shattered a display case.
Vin carefully walked through the debris, glass crunching under his feet. He went up to the second floor and winced as he discovered more destruction. The mattress of the large bed was in shreds, the bed itself was barely recognizable as such.
"Oh Ezra," Vin murmured.
"Meow?"
The plaintive noise made him look down. In the middle of a torn pillow sat Shawn. The little cat gazed up at him with huge, sad green eyes.
"Hey, kitty," he said softly and crouched down, scratching the offered head.
Vin didn't think Ezra had hurt the familiar. He had only trashed his place; utterly.
"Do you know where he went?"
"Mrow," was the soft negative.
Vin sighed. "I guess you better come along, hm? Nothing left here for any of us."
He straightened and walked downstairs again, Shawn following him.

* * *

The five men sat in Chris's living room. Vin's eyes drifted over to the bedroom door once in a while.
"Now what?" Josiah broke the silence. "If Ezra is hiding, we stand no chance of finding him."
Buck shot him an accusing glare, but the psychologist returned it calmly. He had to be realistic.
"We look," Vin broke the silence. "Wherever. Ask Luther or whoever we can get a hold of.  Luther has found him before. Maybe he can track him down again."
The men nodded.
"You stay here with Chris," Nathan advised.
"Maybe you should..."
The pathologist shook his head. "No."
There's nothing I can do for him, his eyes told Tanner silently. He needs you.
Vin nodded silently.
"What if we find him?" JD piped up. "You think we can convince him to turn Chris? I mean, all he has to do is share a little of his blood...."
"I don't know, kid," Josiah rumbled. "No one knows...."

* * *

"All he has to do is share a little of his blood."
"Do you know what I have to do to make him a vampire?"
The words echoed in Buck's mind as he walked down the empty streets, not even looking who was around him.
"You want me to kill Chris. I have to suck him dry! Every little bit of blood! He will die!"
He swallowed hard as, for the first time, he realized what the vampire had told him just after he had buried his fist in the wall next to Buck's head.
"Only then he will come back! And I don't even know if it would work!"
Chris would have to die. Ezra would have to kill him. His lover. The man he felt closest to, who he had slept with, who he had shared so much with.
"I have to suck him dry!"
Buck tried to imagine Vin in Chris's place, had actually seen him there briefly when he had first laid eyes on Chris in the hospital. He shuddered. Now he had another image to add: him having to kill Vin.
Could he do that?
Would he be able to end the life of the man he loved so much?
His stomach rolled and he had to lean against a building. Streetlights bathed everything in an artificial glow, and across the street crowds were coming out of a theater, laughing, talking, having a good time.
Buck shoved his hands into his jacket's pockets.
"Only then he will come back! And I don't even know if it would work!"
Ezra would have to kill his lover to cure him... without knowing if it actually worked. Chris would die, one way or another, but one death meant passing away. The other was... murder.
For the first time, Buck started to understand the vampire. For the first time, he saw more than just his dying friend.
"Oh God," he whispered, leaning his head back against the cool, concrete wall, gazing up into the cloudy sky.
"Do you know what I have to do to make him a vampire?"
"Yes, I believe I know...."

* * *

It had been a hunch. JD was good when it came to hunches, though they were mostly connected to his computer work. Sometimes they panned out in the world outside the Net as well, like right now.
JD looked into the sun. It was setting already and with it Chris's chances were fading away. They had to find Ezra.
Standish had disappeared off the face of the planet. No one had seen or heard anything of the man in the last two days.  And when Vin had told them of what had happened to the house, the rest of the team had been more than worried. But that worry had transformed into despair and fear when Tanner had added the bad news from Chris. It was only a matter of days now, if it was that much at all. He had nothing left to fight, was barely conscious, and he refused to see anyone. Vin was with him nevertheless. He wouldn't leave his friend.
Everyone else had spread out to look for Ezra. Even Buck. Their chemist had pulled back from the group in those last two weeks after Chris had been diagnosed with a relapse again. He had barely spoken a word, had done his work like a machine, and Vin had confessed that he wasn't any better at home.
JD's first instinct was to go to the Grotto, though he doubted Ezra would hide there. Luther would have kicked his bosses butt from there to Chris's place in a flash. No one had seen Standish at the nightclub and Luther had informed him that no one in the vampire community as such had caught so much as a glance of the man. He hadn't left town either, but he wasn't in any of his usual places.
So JD had followed the hunch. Why he had thought of the cemetery, he didn't know. Maybe he had watched too many movies, but somehow he saw it as a fitting hiding place. Not just any cemetery either. The old one. The section with the ancient crypts. He had tried them all, looking which ones were open, which had been broken open, and in the end he had discovered the vampire in one of the smaller ones, at the fringe of the old graveyard.
"Ezra?"
"Go away."
Ezra was sitting in the far corner of the crypt, curled together, eyes softly glowing. His empty gaze was fixed on the ancient wall, as if he was studying the Latin writing. JD watched him for a moment, then decided that standing around and saying nothing wouldn't get him anywhere. Time was of essence.
"Ezra. It's time for your decision," he announced calmly.
"What do you mean?" The vampire's voice sounded rough, tired ... defeated?
"He's dying. Whatever you intend to do... do it now. Because you won't have much time. There won't be a tomorrow."
His voice echoed hollowly in the crypt and Ezra gave no indication that he had heard him. JD turned and left. He had said all he had wanted to say. No words of compassion and understanding; the plain, hard facts. The time for dancing around Standish was over. It was either now or never.

* * *

Vin looked down at the fragile figure in the too large bed, the skin almost as white as the sheets and like parchment. The man was weak as a kitten - and he was fading away. In front of his eyes. Vin had to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat, the moisture in his eyes. He wasn't a man who cried easily, and he didn't want to do it now. Chris was still alive...
Barely.
Where the hell was Ezra?
It should have been him sitting at Chris's side, watching over him, taking care of him.
But the vampire wasn't there.
And Chris was getting weaker with every passing hour. He struggled with all that was worth, fought with all the strength he had.
But that strength was vanishing.
Visibly.
And Chris was waiting.
"Mwrrrrr."
Shawn pawed at his pants. She was about to give birth every day now, her belly as round as a little black, furred ball, and she didn't want to jump up or down the furniture, though she could. Right now, she wanted to be lifted to the bed.
"Hey, kitty."
Vin placed her on the bed and she slowly stepped over to Chris, butting his fingers with her head, and meowing softly.
The fingers moved, and little by little the man in the bed started to scratch her ears. Shawn curled up at his side and purred tenderly.
"Hey, lil' one," Chris croaked, a small sad smile on his face, before the motion stopped, the hazel eyes closing again.
You are here, kitty, Vin thought sadly, but where's your owner?
Chris was holding on, waiting.
A quick glance outside the window showed Vin a wonderfully colored sunset, and his heart wrenched in despair and grief.
Chris Larabee wouldn't live to see the sunrise again.
"Mwrr-RRRT!"
A sound behind him made Vin start. When he whirled around he looked into two green eyes, glowing with the reflection of the fading light.
Ezra.
"How is he?" the vampire whispered.
Vin got up and approached the man, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing slightly as he left the two lovers alone.
"Dying."
 

To be continued in "Metagenesis"