A/N: Sorry this took so long, real life hasn't been leaving me in the mood to write lately.

Chapter Two

Ryan sat at the kitchen table, a slight crease in between his eyebrows as he mulled over the contents of Michael Weston's wallet. It was the usual things you'd expect to find. A debit card, cash, driver's license, student I.D., and a small family photo. It was the last two he couldn't stop staring at.

His school ID revealed that he was a Sophmore with the intended major of political science. That meant he was just a little bit older than Ryan had thought. The kid had such a young face he'd been sure that Michael was just a college freshman or younger even. In the photo he stood with his parents and what had to be his brothers. There were three of them, all towering over Michael who was holding his high school diploma proudly. Ryan's heart sank at the sight of his beaming face.

The kid would probably never have a reason to smile like that again. He would never finish his degree and walk across the stage to graduate from college. There would be no future career or family waiting for him, just an endless stretch of time where he will be forced to live in the shadows still looking like he was a teenager. Sure he could attempt to continue living the life he had, but from what Ryan had heard and seen himself that never worked out for vampires that tried. They always slipped up and killed someone close to them or were no longer able to maintain the thread of lies necessary to keep what they were a secret.

You should have just left him alone, Ryan berated himself. You're no doctor, if you had just called an ambulance he could have made it without being turned.

"Could you turn the self-loathing down a notch, please? I can practically see the guilt coming off you in waves."

Ryan twisted around in his seat at the sound of the voice and saw Debra standing in front of the entrance to the kitchen, arms folded. She had her up in a messy bun and a disapproving frown on her face. "You haven't stopped brooding since you brought him here, Ryan. Stop beating yourself up so much."

Ryan opened his mouth up to defend himself but then closed it again before sighing. He knew better than to try and deny it. Debra had a way of reading even the most closed off people and it wasn't like he was exactly subtle when he got into a mood like the one he was currently in.

Debra unfolded her arms and walked over to stand beside Ryan. She peered at Michael's photo and school I.D. from over his shoulder. " Young, smart, and just starting to come into the world. He seems exactly like the kind of person Joe would try to recruit, especially now when he's trying to rebuild his coven."

"They weren't trying to turn him," Ryan said, the sound of his own voice odd to his ears. He'd hardly spoken since bringing Michael back with him a day ago. After giving Debra and everyone a brief summary of what happened he'd put an unconscious Michael in one of the spare bedrooms and simply wandered into the kitchen to stew in his own thoughts. He had attempted to do research on the latest victims, including Michael, but his mind refused to stay focused.

"They were just feeding," Ryan continued, turning in his chair to look up at Debra fully. "One guy was completely drained and Michael was getting pretty damned close. Those two clearly had no intention of bringing either one of them back to Joe to be turned."

A small creased appeared between Debra's eyebrow's as she stared at Ryan thoughtfully. "Seems a bit sloppy to just be feeding in an alleyway right next to a popular club. They might have been newer. Did you recognize either of them as missing students?"

Ryan shook his head. "No, but I haven't finished looking through all the missing person reports for the Winslow students yet. One of them looked a little old to be a student though so it's possible they may have just been too stupid to know better."

"Or maybe they're just getting cocky? We don't know how much Joe has rebuilt his coven so far. It's likely he's recruited from more than just the students at the University."

Ryan slumped down further in the chair, sighing deeply as he imagined all the recent missing person reports they would probably spend hours going through. "Probably, he did have a variety of people last time. If Joe has rebuilt his numbers they could be getting bolder because he's planning something big. Most likely it'll be an attention grabber that will also serve to help band his newer and older coven members together under him."

Debra looked at him warily. "You don't think he knows we're in the area, do you," she asked quietly, as if Joe were standing outside listening for them.

Ryan shook his head. "No, with Joe's flair for dramatics he would have sent us some kind of message by now. It's only a matter of time before he does though now that I've taken out two of his people. We need to move quickly. Ask Mitchell to get us a list of everyone who's gone missing in the town in the last year. We also need to ask Michael if he knows any of the students that went missing."

"Kristie Anthony."

Ryan spun around in his chair to see Mitchell walking in, her laptop in her hands. Ryan and Debra exchanged puzzled glances.

"Kristie Anthony," Ryan asked in a perplexed tone.

"She's a missing student that was friends with Michael," she explained, setting the laptop down on the table.

"He's awake," Debra asked, concern coloring her voice. Ryan sat up a little straighter at the thought as relief and guilt coursed through him like an electric shock.

"No, I looked at his Facebook page and searched all the names of his friends from Winslow." Ryan's eyes went to the computer screen and sure enough there was a tab open for Michael's friend page on Facebook.

Ryan looked back up at Mittchel, eyebrows raised slightly. "You looked him up on Facebook?"

"Yes." She answered exaggeratedly slow as if searching Facebook was the obvious thing to do . As if a vampire who was turned long before Facebook was around should have thought of it. Thankfully Debra intervened before Ryan could give a sharp reply

"What about the girl? Was she friends with any of the other victims?"

" Not as far as I can tell. I'm still going through all her social media profiles to see if there are any connections."

Ryan's eyes wandered back to the computer screen and noticed another tab open for a news article on the girl's disappearance. He reached over and clicked on the tab. It was mostly general information; when she disappeared, police statements, general information about the victim. Only one thing stuck out to him.

"She was a literature minor," He announced, still looking over the article. Both Debra and Mitchell paused their discussion about hacking the other students social accounts and looked at him.

"She was?"Debra's eyes widened in surprise. So far that hadn't been able to find any solid connection between Carroll and the missing students leading them to believe they were simply being picked off at random.

" Yep, her major was in journalism but this article says that she was also pursuing a minor in Literature. Now, I wonder who her teacher could possibly have been?"

"It might not have been Carroll," Debra pointed out. "We haven't found anything to link the others to him. I mean, hell none of them were even part of the school paper he helps run."

"You don't think Carroll is the reason the kids are disappearing," Ryan asked in disbelief.

"Maybe not directly. I think someone else may be approaching these kids and turning them while Carroll teaches there as a front. He knows we'll be looking at him rather than anyone else, especially you, Ryan."

Ryan felt a sinking sensation in his chest as the brief feeling of triumph he felt faded. "You think he's just going to lead us on a wild goose chase while his numbers get rebuilt and he surrounds us?"

"Sounds like something he'd do, doesn't it?"

"Yea," Ryan murmured. "Sounds exactly like something he would do." If there had been one thing he'd learned about Joe since they met it was that he loved nothing more than to pull people's strings and persuade them to do exactly what he wanted. Ryan could just imagine the smug look on Joe's face when he caught them all off guard and revealed they'd been chasing their tails the whole time.

" I think it's time I finally had a chat with Joe then."

Both Debra and Mitchell looked at him in utter disbelief. Deb tilted her head to the side as if she misheard him. "What? Ryan we still know next to nothing about how Carroll is set up or who else is with him. You'd be dead before you even left the campus."

"No I wouldn't, you said it yourself Joe wants to lead us on a wild goose chase. Simply killing me as I leave campus wouldn't be fun for him." Ryan twisted his lips into a derisive smile. "There's not enough emotional and psychological torture involved."

"So, he doesn't kill you immediately," Debra replied, a note of exasperation beginning to show in her voice. "I'm sure kidnapping you and torturing you would be right up his ally, now wouldn't it?"

Ryan shrugged, unperturbed by the idea. It wasn't as if it was a possibility he wasn't aware of. Ryan always half expected to die by Joe's hand in some horrible way or another. He'd never cared much for his own safety when he was human and being faced with an eternity of being alive certainly hadn't changed that. All he could hope for was to weaken Joe as much as possible before his death. "Yea, sounds like something he'd do."

He watched as Debra's eyes hardened at his nonchalant tone. She'd never had much patience for his fatalistic way of thinking. Mitchell looked between the two, eyes widened. She looked like a person who had unwittingly been caught between two of their relatives arguing at the dinner table. Ryan noticed her eyes flicker to the door as if calculating how quickly she could run to it without being too obvious.

"We need you Ryan," she said firmly. "This isn't the time for you to start becoming a Maverick on us."

Ryan lowered his eyes, unable to bear the weight of Debra's stare. "What do you suggest we do then," he asked looking down at his lap.

Before she could answer the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen reached their ears. They all turned to see Tyson entering the kitchen with an apprehensive look on his face. Ryan felt his stomach drop.

"How's the kid doing?"

Tyson took a deep breath and let it out evenly before replying. "Good. I think he's starting to wake up though, you should probably get up there."

Ryan shook his head. "I don't think-"

"You were the last person he remembers seeing," Debra said, cutting him off. "You need to be there when he wakes up."

"She's right," Tyson said. "That kid is in for one nasty shock when he comes to, he's going to need a somewhat familiar face."

"Fine then," he conceded, feeling uneasy. " Debra, you need to come with me though. You're a lot better with people than I am and I might need that if he doesn't react well to-"

"Your charming blunt nature?" Debra gave him a wry smile. "Of course. It's best if you take the lead though. Like Tyson said he's going to need to see a familiar face after waking up."

Ryan nodded reluctantly, dread building up inside him like storm clouds at the thought of Michael's accusatory stare when he explained what he had done. Ryan had never turned anyone before or even dealt with those that were newly turned. He just remembered his own experience. Feeling his stomach tying itself in knots Ryan slowly made his way out of the kitchen wearing a grim expression usually only suited for informing people of the death of a loved one.

It had started out as a pleasant rest. Mike had sunken into a deep restless sleep at first, completely at ease in the knowledge that he was safe though from what he couldn't seem to remember. He wasn't sure how long that lasted when the dreams began.

The first time he dreamed that he woke up back in his dorm room. Everything had been exactly as he had left it before heading out with Troy the night before and when he looked down he was even wearing the same clothes having seemingly been too tired to change them when he got home. Mike had been absolutely convinced he was really awake in his own bed.

He'd gotten up to raid his mini fridge for a late breakfast when he glanced over at Troy's bed and his breath caught in his throat at the gruesome sight. Troy was perfectly still with his eyes partially open and his sheets soaked with blood. Taking a few tentative steps forward Mike saw that his friend's throat had been ripped opened. Mike stumbled back in horror his hand flying to his mouth as he let out a hoarse scream. Confusion mingled with terror when Mike realized that his mouth and face were wet. His heart hammering in his throat Mike slowly lowered his hand. Smeared against his fingers and palm was dark red blood.

Mike woke with a start. He was only just barely conscious, still somewhat stuck in that limbo between sleep and consciousness. However it was enough to be aware of the soft bed beneath him, the dark ceiling above his eyes, and the dull ache all over his entire body. The tension slowly eased out of him and his heart slowed as he comforted himself with the thought that it was just a dream. He wanted to turn his to look over at Troy just reassure himself but sleep still held him tight in its grasp. Within moments he was dragged back down under the waves of unconsciousness.

This continued at least two more times, but Mike couldn't be sure. After all nightmares and dreams were soon forgotten after having them. The two that he remembered for sure were just as bad as the first though. In the second he dreamed that he was lying in an open coffin at his own funeral. He could see the preacher standing at his pulpit and hear the murmur of the congregation. No matter how hard he tried though he couldn't move or speak so he was forced to stay in his coffin paralyzed as they closed the lid then lowered it into the ground. Even with his head filled with his own desperate screams all Mike could do was lay there silently, the only real sound being the dirt hitting his coffin.

Just like before he jolted awake just enough to realize it was only a nightmare before dropping back into a dreamless sleep.

In his last nightmare Mike found himself sitting at the bar in The Library. It was exactly like as when he had been there with Troy. In fact when he glanced over to the booths Troy was actually sitting there with the same group of girls as before. Everyone was dancing and having a good time like normal. Except for the girl standing in the middle of the dancing throng. Mike's heart almost stuttered to a stop at the sight of her. He wasn't sure why but the way she was just standing there staring at him without blinking filled him with cold dread. As if sensing his fear her mouth slowly stretched into a wide, toothy grin that revealed canines longer and sharper than any human's could possibly be.

The girl began striding towards him purposefully still wearing her feral grin. Mike's body froze up in fear leaving him unable to do anything other than gape at her in horror. Nobody seemed to notice or care about her. The people she pushed past and jostled continued dancing as if nothing had happened, it was almost as if she were a ghost only he could see. As she got closer Mike was able to recover some of his power of speech. He turned to where Troy was and called out his name. Troy continued chatting with the girls completely unaware of his friend calling out for him.

Mike turned his attention back to the girl and felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest when he saw that she was now only a few feet in from him. He attempted to say something to warn her off but all that came out was a pitiful, 'leave me alone', that sounded more like a whimper than a warning. The girl finally stopped right in front of him. His breathing began increasing and he could feel his hands shake as she leaned into him with her canines bared.

Feeling her breath on his neck Mike looked over her shoulder to see a man watching them. He looked to be about middle aged with a mess of dark blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. The man's eyes locked with his and he seemed to be the only one in the club who could see what was going on.

"Help me," Mike begged in a quivering voice even though he knew the man couldn't possibly hear him over the heavy bass that boomed throughout the club. The girl's sharp canine's pierced his flesh and it was the sharp pain rapidly spreading throughout his neck that caused him to bolt awake.

Mike woke up with a gasp, bolting up into a sitting position with his heart hammering in his chest. He tried to calm himself with the thought that it was only a dream but instead of being greeted by the familiar setting of his dorm room Mike found himself in a room he'd never seen before. Still dazed by sleep Mike blinked several times in order to be sure that this wasn't another lucid dream. He was fairly sure it wasn't despite having no idea where he was at.

Dreams, even lucid ones, usually had an odd movie like quality to them. Most of the time it felt like you were watching things through the lenses of a video camera. Mike was most definitely seeing things through his own eyes. Of course, there was also the dull ache in his stomach and the dry mouth to tip him off that he was probably awake for real now.

That did little to ease his anxiety though as his brain scrambled to figure out where he was and how he got there. The room he was in was mostly bare except for the dresser on the opposite wall from the bed and the nightstand. There was the possibility that he had crashed in another student's dorm room however he'd never seen a dorm building that had wooden flooring. Not to mention the room was way too spotless to belong to a student. It looked more like a guest room in someone's house.

It was difficult to piece together what had happened to him when his mind was still foggy from sleep and the dull ache in his stomach was beginning to sharpen. Glancing down Mike was taken aback to see that he was wearing clothes he'd never seen before. The jeans were too long and baggy in places they shouldn't be and Mike was 100% certain he'd never owned a FDNY shirt in his entire life.

"What...the hell," he muttered to himself groggily. "What did I do last night?"

He could easily recall getting ready and going to the club but the rest of the night was a an indistinct blur for him. The harder he thought about it the more it seemed to slip from his grasp. The images of a girl's face and an alley flashed before his eyes but even then Mike wasn't sure if they were images from a forgotten dream or the previous night.

The sound of footsteps snapped Mike out of his thoughts. His eyes went to the door as he listened to them get closer, his entire body tensing up. They stopped right outside his door and Mike could have sworn he heard a sigh before the door slowly opened. Standing on the other side was a wiry-looking blonde headed man. Behind him Mike glimpsed a dark-haired women peering over his shoulder with a wary expression. He didn't pay much attention to her though. As soon as he saw the man's face everything clicked into place.

It was like solving a math problem and finally getting that 'eureka' moment that led you to the solution. Mike remembered helping the girl get her 'boyfriend' out of the club and letting him down near an alley outside the club. The rest was still a little bit blurry but he recalled the feeling of his attacker biting into his neck as he was dragged back into the alley. Mike's hand flew to his throat at the memory. The rest was so crazy that Mike would have dismissed it as a fever induced nightmare had the man(Ryan, wasn't it?) not been standing there.

That can't have been what really happened, he thought as he remembered the taste of Ryan's blood and the feeling of it running down his throat.

Ryan slowly took a step forward as if approaching a stray dog. "Hey, Michael," he began in a soft voice. "How are you feeling? Do you remember me?"

"Yes." The word came out in a quiet rasp almost getting stuck in his throat. Mike cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, you were the guy from the club. Ryan?"

He nodded. "Yep, that's me." He sounded nervous something that Mike found both reassuring and odd. On the one hand if he was nervous talking to him most likely he didn't really mean him any harm, but he couldn't possibly imagine why Ryan would be nervous.

Ryan cleared his throat awkwardly." This is my friend Debra." The woman behind him flashed Mike a smile though there was something melancholy about it. "How much do you remember about the night at the club.

Mike's breath caught at that. He remembered alright, but what he remembered was impossible. His neck being bitten, drinking Ryan's blood, it was something from a bad horror movie not from real life yet there wasn't even a flicker of a memory that explained it any other way. He felt his insides twist.

The dull pain in his stomach turned to nausea while his answer came tumbling out of his mouth. "I think...kind of...I-I'm not sure if it's a dream or not."

Ryan looked at him with pity in his eyes. "Tell me what you remember," he asked though his tone was lacking any real curiosity. He sounded more like a teacher asking a question they already knew the answer too

Mike squirmed uncomfortably on the bed avoiding Ryan and Debra's expectant gazes. What exactly was he supposed to tell them? A vampire attacked him then Ryan swooped in and saved him like the brooding protagonist from a Hollywood vampire flick?

"It's alright," Ryan reassured, sensing his nervousness. "I just want to know what you remember about that night. Even if you think it sounds crazy."

Mike still hesitated for a moment however Ryan seemed earnest in his willingness to listen and help. He was a stranger but Mike could still hear in his head how desperate Ryan had sounded when reassuring him that he would be okay.

Taking in a shaky breath Mike recounted everything he could. The entire time he watched both Ryan and Debra's faces for any traces of surprise or disbelief but for the most part they remained impassive except for the flash of pity he could see in their eyes. It made Mike wonder if perhaps he had suffered some kind of psychotic break from reality.

When Mike finished he stared at them both expectantly. This was supposed to be the part where they gave him the logical explanation. He'd been drugged, the people who attacked him were delusional maniacs who thought they were vampires, his injuries caused him to hallucinate. Mike waited, hopeful for them to finally put an end to his min-nightmare but Ryan's next sentence shattered any illusions of a rational explanation.

"Michael, none of what you remember was a nightmare."

The words crashed down on Mike like a ton of bricks. "What?"

Ryan took a deep breath and continued. "The man attacking you, drinking your blood, that wasn't a hallucination. Neither was me giving you my blood to keep you alive."

" Is this some kind of joke," Mike demanded staring at Ryan in disbelief. He scooted back further on the bed his faith in Ryan crumbling. He started to see his situation in a far less optimistic light. The chances of him being some sort of vigilante seemed less likely than him being some psycho who abducted him for nefarious reasons. Mike's heart froze as he realized he might very well be looking at the person who had been kidnapping and killing the other students.

"You know it's not a joke Michael," Ryan said firmly though not unkindly. "I gave you my blood. You seem like a smart kid you should know that humans can't digest blood but you handled mine just fine."

He was right. Not only that but Mike could still remember the taste of it; strangely sweet and far from coppery taste he would have expected. The rational part of Mike's brain still refused to accept it though. It could see the answer Ryan was leading him to and rebelled against it.

"What are you playing at? Is this some kind of weird cult recruitment?"

Ryan let out a bitter laugh at that. " Wrong person kid. Try Winslow's favorite literature professor."

Mike's hostile glare turned into one of confusion at Ryan's meaning. He tried and failed to see how any of the English teachers he knew had anything to do with the current mess he was in.

"Maybe want to stop beating around the bush," he heard Debra suggest in a murmur. Ryan glanced back at her and then looked up towards the ceiling in exasperation as if expecting help from above. He slowly leveled his gaze to stare straight at Mike. What happened next was one of the most terrifying moments of his life so far not counting his previous attack.

One moment Ryan was on the other side of the room and the next he was standing right over him next to the bed his canines unnaturally large and elongated. The way it happened was surreal as if someone had seen Ryan running and hit fast-forward causing him to become a blur as he traveled across the room in the blink of an eye.

Mike was so startled that he yelped and jumped back against the wall his head hitting it with an audible thud. He watch, transfixed as Ryan's canines-no, his fangs-retracted back up into his gumline.

"You believe me now," He inquired.

Mike's breathing became more rapid as he looked up at Ryan. "That-what you just did, that shouldn't be possible.

"I know," Ryan replied grimly. "It is though."

Mike continued to stare up at Ryan with mingled disbelief and horror. He felt as if his head were spinning as he tried to process what he saw and what it meant. Vampires. That's what Ryan was and that's what attacked him.

"That thing bit me, I drank your blood." Mike felt as though the room was spinning as he stared at Ryan warily, the question he wanted so desperately to ask stuck in his throat. After a minute or two he was finally managed to choke it out. "What does that mean for me?"

"The only way you become a vampire is to have your blood drained to the point of death and then to drink a vampire's blood." Ryan wouldn't meet Mike's eyes as he continued to talk in a low voice. " You were barely conscious I didn't think you were going to last long enough to make it to the hospital...so I panicked. I gave you some of my blood because I thought that was the only way to save you."

Mike stared at Ryan in a complete loss for words. The mere idea that vampires or anything supernatural actually existed shook him to the core but being told he was now part of it was too much.

Debra stepped forward to stand beside Ryan. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in right now," she said in a soft, quiet voice. "In fact it's almost impossible to ask for anyone to comprehend, but the first step in accepting this is that you have to trust what you're seeing is real. You saw what Ryan just did, that can't be faked."

"I've gone insane then..." Mike whispered.

Debra flinch almost imperceptibly at his words, sorrow flashing across her face. Wordlessly she turned from him and walked towards the dresser on the other side of the room. Ryan's eyes followed her with a questioning gaze but he remained silent. Mike couldn't force himself to care what she was doing however. Once he had actually said the words Mike couldn't stop repeating them in his head.

I've gone insane, I've gone insane, I've gone insane

Mike lowered his gaze to the bed beneath as he dimly tried to recall anything that could have forewarned a mental break.

"Here." Mike jumped as a handheld mirror was shoved under his face. He looked up to see Debra staring him down with an unwaveringly determined expression. "Take it and use it to look at your neck." Her voice held the kind of commanding tone that only his mother had ever been able to master. Mike took the mirror from her hand before he could even really think about what he was doing.

At first Mike wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at until he spotted the two pale pink evenly spaced dots on his neck each the size a of a tack. He tentatively raised his hand and ran his fingers over the two spots. They were both slightly raised and the skin felt extremely thin as though any wrong movement of his neck could cause it to tear open. The memory of his attacker's teeth sinking into his flesh ripped through him, causing a chill to run down his spine.

"See," Debra said as she watched him examine the two marks. " You can clearly feel the marks on you, Michael, you're brain couldn't be tricking you that much."

"It's Mike." His voice was firm as he said it but he could feel his hands shaking as he lowered the mirror. It was a small relief to be proven wrong that he wasn't insane. The alternative wasn't much better and Mike felt like his very bones were quivering.

" So obviously you drink blood," he began in a strained voice. "Does this mean I'm going to have to kill people to live?"

"You don't have to," Ryan told him, his face impassive. "We don't and we're fine."

"Then how-"

"Animal blood," Debra chimed in. He could see her face light up with amusement. "I know it probably sounds cliché but it does the trick. Tastes fine too if you ask me but that's a personal preference."

Mike a little bit of his anxiety begin to ebb away. He'd only ever wanted to help people, knowing that he wouldn't have to contribute to more evil in the world made the situation slightly better.

"What about the other stuff? Sunlight burning, garlic, crosses..."

"Most of it's bullshit," Ryan answered immediately. "Garlic and any other religious related items don't hurt us. We are super sensitive to sunlight, though. If you're out in directly for too long you will get sick."

"That's not so bad," Mike remarked, speaking more to himself than Ryan or Debra. "I'll still be able to go to school."

"No."

Mike's eyes snapped up to Ryan's. Despite the steel behind his voice his expression made it look like he'd just been punched in the gut.

"Michael, you can't go back to school, or see any of your family again. I'm sorry."

Mike flinched back at the tone of finality in his voice. The thought of being cut off from the things that mattered most to him was unthinkable and in a way almost as hard for his mind to wrap around as the recent revelation of vampires.

"Why," he managed to whisper despite the increasing tightness in his chest.

Ryan's shoulders sagged as he let out a long sigh. "Living in the sunlight, masquerading as a human for your family and friends...it doesn't work. At least not for long. The few vampires that have tried always end up hurting themselves and the people around them. "

"I can make it work." Mike sat up a little straighter as a sense of determination took over and pushed back the feeling of despair. "If you just teach me about being what I am now."

"What happens when people start noticing you aren't aging, or rarely go out in the sun," Ryan demanded.

The aging part struck a chord within Mike. He hadn't even thought of the aging thing. "It will be a while before anyone notices, I've always looked young." The excuse sounded weak even to his ears.

Clearly Ryan felt the same. "So, what? You're just gonna try to live a normal life for about ten or fifteen years then disappear when people keep remarking on how youthful you look?"

Mike bristled at the note of derision behind the man's seemingly neutral tone. " As opposed to what? Just disappearing now without a trace?"

"You're protecting them just as much as you would be hurting them." Mike turned his glare from Ryan to Debra his determined expression faltering. She had seemed like less of a hard ass than Ryan, he would have thought she would have at least heard him out. Although her brown eyes were filled with sympathy her mouth was set in a firm line similar to Ryan's.

"You're going to be drawn to human blood. What happens if someone you love gets injured while you're there and you can't control yourself? Or what about the fact that you're going to be lying to everyone around you 24/7? You'll always be holding everyone you care about at arm's length. It's better and safer for you to just step away now, create a clean break."

Every one of her words rang true and as she said them Mike could feel his heart break just a little bit more. Still, there had to be a way. They couldn't just turn his entire view of the world upside down and then tell him he had to abandon everything he knew while he was at it.

"I'll take that all into consideration," he informed them in a voice so cold that he surprised even himself. "But you can't tell me what I'm going to do."

"That's where you're wrong," Ryan said. " We can't just sit by and let a brand new vampire run around. If that means keeping you here by force then so be it."

" You can't keep me here." Mike's voice rose so high that it cracked. Ryan and Debra both tensed and Ryan shifted forward ready to spring. It was unnecessary though. Mike immediately became distracted by a strange pressure in his upper jaw and a sharp pain in his lower lip. He raised a hand to his lips. When he lowered it there was bright red blood smeared on two of his fingers. No one said a word as he snatched the mirror from where it lay on the bed and raised it to examine his face. He could practically feel them holding their breath while they waited for the next moment.

Mike met his own crazed eyes in the mirror and then looked further down to see two long, narrow canines protruding just past the rest of his teeth. His stomach lurched and began cramping up worse than before. The mirror slipped between his fingers as Mike doubled over in pain, a groan slipping through his lips.

"We need to get him food," he heard Debra say anxiously to Ryan.

"Right I'll go-"

"No, you stay up here and keep an eye on him."

Mike clenched his teeth together in pain as the cramping in his stomach worsened. It felt as though someone had stabbed him with a blunt knife and was just slowly twisting it. His breathing became ragged as he began to break out into a cold sweat. With a haze of pain completely surrounding him he didn't even notice Ryan stepping closer to him until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's going to be alright Mike," he said to him in a low, soothing tone. "Just try to concentrate on your breathing, okay? Deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth."

Mike did as he said and though it didn't do much to lessen the pain it did decrease his anxiety some, making it easier to bear through the it. Ryan gently pushed down on his shoulders prompting Mike to reluctantly lie back down on the bed in a fetal position.

"Everything's going to be okay," Ryan repeated in a raspy voice. "You just need a little blood in you that's all."

Mike whimpered at the thought. It reminded him of when Ryan had first given him blood making the cramping in his stomach sharpen as the way it tasted came back to him. It shook him to the core to feel his mouth water at the prospect of tasting it again. Even after seeing how Ryan had dashed across the room some part of Mike had held onto his disbelief, but any slight rational explanation that his mind had conjured up faded as he felt his fangs scraping against the inside of his mouth.

Debra descended down the stairs exhaling slowly as she tried to mentally shake off the image of Mike's heartbroken face. She'd realized that it wasn't going to be a walk in the park. In this day and age of modern science the mere suggestion of the existence of the supernatural, especially vampires, would be insane to anyone. Debra herself had reacted with complete disbelief at first despite growing up with a fairly mystic-like religion. She never had to deal with cutting out her family though. That had already been done years before she was turned.

Debra paused briefly at the foot of the stairs and shook her head as if trying to physically dispel the buried memories that were threatening to rise to the surface. She reset her thoughts firmly on getting the backup blood they kept in the fridge to Mike as soon as possible. Once he drank some blood and saw the effect it had on him maybe they would finally be able to start to move past the denial phase.

Tyson was nowhere to be found when she entered the kitchen. It wouldn't surprise her if he was in one of the spare rooms getting restraints ready just in case Mike got out of hand. The man was much more upbeat than Ryan however he was always on guard, never far from one of the many weapons he kept placed throughout the house. Mitchell was staring at her laptop screen silently. Debra didn't give her more than a second glance as she went over to open the fridge and grab one of the bags of blood stacked in the back.

"Debra?"

"Hmm," was Debra's only absent minded response. She was placing a large black waterbottle on the counter near the sink. Hopefully Mike would be less perturbed by his first drink of blood if he couldn't actually see the color of the liquid.

"I need you to look at something real quick."

Debra glance at over at her from over her shoulder to ask what it was but saw that Mitchell was still staring at her screen a crease appearing between her brows. She carefully set the bag of blood as far from the edge of the counter as possible-after all that stuff wasn't easy to come by-and walked over to stand behind Mitchell.

"I think I found a photo of one of Joe's old coven members," she said uncertainly.

Debra looked down at the screen and saw a photo of a young man with a head of black hair and a perfect smile. He had his arm wrapped around a small brown haired woman with an eerily familiar face.

"Emma."

A/N: I'm iffy on how this turned out so any CC is more than welcomed.