The newly turned vampire bolted through the empty halls of the hospital, in search of his warlock friend. When he finally found the room his ally was in, he entered slowly. “Ambroise.” Russell spoke the blonde’s name, taking a seat in one of the chairs next to the bed. He’d been through Hell and back, altering the past with an hourglass relic that held mysterious time-manipulation powers. Of course, he snatched the item from an Oracle who’d warned him multiple times that changing the past came with serious consequences. The warning fell on deaf ears, and Russ was forced to make a choice; give up his human life to save a dear friend or stay mortal and lose said buddy. He chose the former without a second thought, being without Ambroise wasn’t an option.
Tremors wracked the mages’ lithe frame, waking him from his slumber. He groaned in discomfort as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. The wounds from the Werewolves hadn’t been fatal this time around, but his body was rejecting the bites he’d earned. His azure hues widened, the effects of the iv rendered useless, seeing as he’d been given heavy duty medicine to dull the pain hours prior. “Russ!” He gasped, reaching out a shaky hand for his best friend.
Russell stayed by the other male’s side, all the while yelling for a nurse to come. He must have shouted at least five times before a stout woman appeared.
“It’s too soon for me to give him anything.” The cranky lady stated with a huff. She quickly left the room to care for another patient.
Russ growled, “Fuckin’ bitch. He needs help now!” Were he still alive, his heartbeat would be through the roof. “What am I supposed to—“ All at once, everything became clear; he had to give Ambroise some blood in order for said man to get stabilized.
The warlock sobbed loudly, one of his hands weakly clinging to the vamp. “Bébé, h-help...” The plea barely fell past his lips, but it was loud enough only for Russell to hear.
Russ bared his fangs, sinking them into his right wrist until his crimson essence flowed from the self-inflicted wound. He helped Ambroise sit up, and then forced his wrist into the crying man’s mouth. “Shh. Just drink...” He didn’t so much as wince, didn’t so much as feel anything.
Ambroise sighed, and stopped sucking the brunette’s plasma, though his mouth was now stained with blood. “Russell, you’re a... vampire?”
“I don’t expect you to understand right now. When you’re doing better, I’ll tell you everything.” He promised, reaching out to wipe sweat from the blonde’s brow. “Rest well, I’ll be back.” Russ was about to leave when the curtain that separated the mage from another patient was yanked back.
The mage laughed nervously while his bloodsucker ally rose an eyebrow.
“What the hell do you want?” Russ demanded, stepping back into the room after slamming the door shut. He didn’t care if the stranger was also a recovering patient— he’d silence or compel him to forget if he threatened to expose him. “Stop staring at me like I’m some sideshow freak.” He grumbled out, setting his jaw.
A heavy sigh fell past the warlock’s parted lips. “Russ, you’ve got to lighten up. He already knows about me, so...” He trailed off, unable to find the words to explain that his roommate was of no threat.
“Yeah, well I’m not takin’ any chances.” Staring directly into Dean’s eyes, he resisted the urge to compel him with difficulty. “If you tell anyone anything about me or Ambroise, you’re as good as dead.” @headstrongwinchester
