Transformation

[Acorn]

While she talked, he held her and listened. She'd said it was silly, but a fairytale being applicable to his life didn't seem absurd to him. He was a man who could turn into a wolf-like creature at will and they knew of several witches and at least two vampires. Their world was made of magical stuff, and it didn't seem like much of a reach that fairytales and fables could act as instruction manuals for them. He really hoped there weren't more surprises, though. Rita had joked about zombies and banshees, but if they or anything else existed, he was throwing in the towel and dragging Rita to that cabin in the woods whether she liked it or not.

But the cabin would need to have a tub big enough to fit them both, because now that he knew how it could ease his mind and body to have her pressed against him while he was up to his chest in hot, steaming water, he needed it to be a regular part of his life. His earlier adventure had clearly helped him too, silencing parts of his mind that he hadn't realized had been constantly churning away, demanding his attention. Rather than ignoring that part of him, the beast or wolf or whatever they decided on calling it (they could give it a proper name, like Frank), he could give it what it needed and then he could be himself again. Like Rita said, he wouldn't end up half-mad and sneaking out in the night and scaring his—

girlfriend.

She'd used the term casually then continued talking, almost like she didn't realize she'd said it, like she didn't realize how it'd made the air catch in his lungs and his heart stutter. He'd told her he loved her, and he did, with everything in him he loved Rita, and she'd returned the sentiment, but they'd never tried to press a label to what they were. It'd never bothered him that they hadn't, because he was committed to her one way or the other, and he'd make a place for her in his heart for as long as she wanted to be there, but there it was: a label.

His smile started out slow at one corner of his lips, then it encompassed the entirety of his mouth and face so he was beaming at her as she made a promise to never make him walk through the woods naked again.

"Wait," he said, eyes taking on a mischievous glint, "what am I supposed to do with a girlfriend? Haven't had one in so long I've forgotten."

 

[Meraki]

"I think that we—"

Wait.

Rita glanced up at Leon and it took her a moment to process his words. What am I supposed to do with a girlfriend? She cocked her head to the side a bit as a smile stretched across his lips until it widened across his entire expression. Girlfriend. Immediately, Rita felt anxiety well up in her and she felt her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink. Her face was suddenly hot and not just from the steam of the bath. "Well, I – uh…" she stumbled over her words which was rare, "I didn't mean – I just…"

Girlfriend. Rita could not believe herself. She had labeled them without thinking but it felt so natural. They were together, right? They loved one another? Wasn't that the natural next progression? She supposed she had never asked, not in the way that Chase asked her years and years ago. He'd shown up at one of her track meets with a little handmade sign that read "Run across the finish line and then to my heart. Rita, will you be my girlfriend?" That picture had found the front page of the campus paper and it had embarrassed her so entirely. But at least they knew, then, that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Rita and Leon just happened – all of a sudden she blinked and she could not live without him.

She did not feel bad about using the term, she just felt terrible not noticing the moment when her heart decided it was willing to open itself up again to him. Rita sighed and thumped her heart against his chest for a moment, she really needed to introduce her foot to her mouth sometimes. All she wanted was the blush to leave her damn cheeks and for Leon to take his teasing eyes off her for a minute. "I didn't mean to but that's what I am, right?" she said finally, looking up at him all flustered but there was a relaxation in her eyes that came from knowing the answer.

"You think I know? The last boyfriend I had got eaten by a werewolf," Rita joked, for perhaps the first time about her experience with Chase, and she wondered when her heart had gotten so light around Leon. There was still grief there, but she was slowly but surely healing with every moment. She had come so far from that rooftop and she didn't even realize it until Leon pointed it out. "Not to mention I dated him for the majority of my adult life, so looks like we're both floundering together."

"Good place to flounder, really," she hummed in amusement, "in a tub."

 

[Acorn]

The glint in his eyes only grew as she fumbled with her words and he tried not to laugh, but he was only able to rein it into a chuckle that lasted until she plopped her head on his chest in defeat. He brought his hand up to her back when she looked up and he attempted to look apologetic, but his mouth kept sliding into a smile. As far as he'd witnessed, no matter what shit was going down, Rita was always the most composed one on the scene. And there she was, blushing and awkward because of a single word — a loaded word, to be sure, but to see her bumbling because of him was endearing.

When she went on to joke about Chase, his smile grew after his initial surprise wore off. It was good to see her at this point, where she could mention him without her face crumbling or without looking guilty for having brought him up. Being able to see the humor in a situation, no matter how dark, was a good sign.

"My last girlfriend didn't appreciate me bailing on her, even if it was to 'go to school out of state', but by what I hear she got over it quick. Moved in with another guy by the end of the week." He could laugh about it now, but it'd hurt something fierce that she'd been able to pick up and start over that fast. He'd thought they were in love, but after many months of glum review, he'd come to the conclusion that she'd been infatuated with the gifts he showered her with and not him.

He knew for a fact that wasn't the case with Rita, since he still hadn't even managed to get her flowers like he wanted. The only thing he'd gotten for her recently was mud in her car floorboard and blood all over her cardigan.

He'd have to do better.

"Tub's a good place for a lot of things, I bet. Can't for the life of me think of any, though," he said, sliding his hand around to run his palm up her arm and over her shoulder, his expression thoughtful. His other hand, the one still beneath the water, took a lazy, explorative path up her side. He frowned and shook his head, making a show of being disappointed in himself.

"Y'know, it's not too late to back out and find a boyfriend who has a clue."

 

[Meraki]

Rita smirked, "Seems like hunting isn't your only primal instinct, huh?"

There was something incredible about the way Leon could always ease her mind. Together, they managed to keep the other sane and their conversations always managed to lighten naturally. Sure, she was still shaken up, but it was nothing that a night of good sleep in Leon's arms would not fix. Somehow, without her knowing, he had wiggled into all the cracks in her heart and warmed her from the inside out. He knew how she worked, every look, every word. He just got her in a way no one ever had before Chase. Even Chase – their relationship was everything Rita ever wanted but sometimes they bickered about who the other was. She was too controlling, he was too blasé, and they would go to bed upset with one another. With Leon, it was different. Sure, they bickered and disagreed, but he never let her go to sleep upset.

It was hard to be upset, honestly, with his arms curled in a protective cage around her.

"It's okay," she shifted so she could slip on top of him and run her hands over his chest, "I've got enough of a clue for the both of us, and I've been told I'm a pretty good teacher."

And her lips seared against his in a powerful kiss.

/

The next morning, she woke up beside Leon. In the warm Louisiana sunshine, she felt the rays from the window. Orvar had invited them all down for breakfast and so Rita woke up more at ease than she'd felt in the past two months and pulled on a dress as she dragged Leon down for something to eat. It was a rather uneventful breakfast, but Rita noted the way that Leon's words last night had shifted the dynamic of the group. Becca seemed a bit down, though she brightened with Rita next to her, and Nate had an expression that was more or less unreadable on his face.

When Orvar offered Rita a mimosa, she took it happily and sipped it down. He sat down at an empty place setting with his own drink and hummed along in the conversation. It was interesting to have seen such a sunny day outside and then be sitting in the dining room with the windows blacked out with curtains. It felt strange to have the chandelier illuminating, but Rita was just beginning to understand what exactly a vampire could and could not do.

"Rita?" Nate said finally as they were all sitting around chatting and Rita's head snapped up at the sound of her name from Nate's mouth. Especially when it wasn't followed by a painful barb.

"Nate?" she raised an eyebrow and noted the way he sat. While the rest of them were slow moving and relaxed with the late morning, Nate seemed a bit more tense leaning forward to rest his forearms on the dining room table. "What's up?"

"I wanna do it."

Rita stopped mid-sip of her mimosa and set it down. "You wanna…what, exactly?"

"I want to let those witches take a look at me," he said finally, but still not looking up to make eye contact and that made Rita a bit wary, "I want to be able to do what Leon does."

Rita just eyed him for a moment before looking over to Leon and back at Nate. "It's…"

"Dangerous, yeah, I get that. I'm just fucking sick of sitting in the car. Will you help me, or no?"

It was strange to her that he was asking her for help, but she was starting to understand. He was starting to understand. He saw Becca and Leon flocking to her when they felt out of control, so it was only natural that he started to understand and gravitate towards that. With a shake of her head, Rita looked up at him, his brown eyes looking back at her and for a brief, brief moment, she remembered Leon's eyes the first time she'd spoken with him in the facility. It froze her for a moment, and then she exhaled.

"I'll do everything I can," she said finally before turning to Orvar, "What do you think, Orvar? Do you think your witches could lend us a hand in trying to recreate what Lorelei managed to do to Leon's seal?"

 

[Acorn]

While they talked, Orvar stared into the ruby abyss of his wine glass while he held it by the stem and slowly tilted it back and forth. The dark red liquid coated the inside of the glass, but when he tilted it back, it didn't recede the same way wine would, it oozed. Leon returned his fork to his plate and sat back in his chair, his stomach suddenly sour. He realized it was hypocritical, seeing as just last night he'd hunted and then torn the gut of a deer open, but he was certain that Orvar wasn't drinking deer blood.

The vampire lifted the glass to his mouth and sipped from it, and Leon assumed he'd answer once he'd finished, but Orvar resumed his staring and tilting. Maybe he hadn't hadn't heard Rita or didn't see that they all looked at him expectantly. Leon cleared his throat. Orvar's eyebrows slid up his up his forehead and his eyes moved like they were being played a frame at a time until they came to rest on him. Leon was used to the vampire being a little weird, expected that sometimes he'd sit and stare unblinkingly at nothing until something pulled him from where he'd disappeared to, but that wasn't nearly as disconcerting as being pinned by his gaze.

"You hear what she asked?" Leon said, and Orvar continued to look at him blankly. Apparently not. "Nate wants to have a seizure."

The vampire blinked rapidly and shook his head. "Pardon me?"

"No, he doesn't," Becca said, pursing her lips up at Leon. "He wants to be able to shift like you can. Rita asked if the witches can help."

Help him have a seizure, he thought, but didn't say because he'd received warning looks from multiple sources at the table.

He grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, withdrawing from the conversation. Based on his own experiences, messing with the seal resulted in collapsing, convulsing and foaming; there was no way it'd be any different for Nate, especially if they were working off second-hand information.

"I'm certain they would try," Orvar said, further stirring to life to pull his cell phone from his suit pocket. "One moment." Then his fingers flew across the screen faster than Leon could follow and then he slid the device onto the table.

While they waited, Leon ended up meeting Nate's eyes and they stared at each other silently. What had it been like before he'd been able to change whenever he wanted? It'd only been a couple months, but he'd nearly forgotten. There'd been uncertainty, a feeling of helplessness, and knowledge that didn't make it to the facility in time before the full moon the Enforcers would find and gun him down. Nate had never been in that position — if anything, his situation had been worse — he'd had to shift outside, far out in the woods, and hope he didn't encounter any humans while he was transformed. At least he'd had the containment units to guarantee he didn't hurt anyone.

Orvar's phone buzzed and the vampire glanced at it. "They'll be here shortly."

~*~
​

"It ain't gonna stick," one of the witches said to their gathered group in the hallway near the door of Nate's room. "We tried, but we've gotta get a look at that grimoire of Lorelei's."

"My grimoire," Becca mumbled, and the witch looked from Rita to Becca, her eyebrows arched.

"I'm sorry honey, what?"

"Doesn't matter," she said quickly, then: "Will he be alright?"

"Oh, with a bit of rest, he'll be right as rain. We didn't blow the thing wide open like Lorelei did with Leon." She reached towards him with her hand, probably to pat his arm, but she took one look at his expression and slid her hand into her pocket instead. "Anyway, it's only temporary. At the rate the seal is rebuilding itself, he's got maybe a week before he's right back where he started. If we wanna to break it all the way, we've gotta see the original spell."

He looked at Rita, dismay scrawled across his face, but he didn't say anything. There was no point. He could argue until his fucking face turned blue, insist that it wasn't safe, that they should stay where they were and let Orvar's people handle it, but Rita would point out that they knew the facility better than anyone. She'd say that Nate and all the other werewolves deserved a chance at controlling their change just as much as he did, and that because it was within their power to fix that for them, then they couldn't in good conscience hide in New Orleans.

"Hope you've got a plan," he said.

 

[Meraki]

Rita's mind started formulating a plan the moment they watched Nate's body go rigid. He didn't quite seizure in the same way that Leon had, but she watched as he fainted under the pressure of what they were trying to accomplish. Just before he fell, Rita watched his eyes find hers, scared and looking for answers, and she knew she couldn't let him down. They couldn't let him down. Maybe they could help every werewolf, but Rita protected her own first. That grimoire was what Nate needed and then, after he was taken care of, they could start worrying about everyone else.

But going back to the facility, now that was a suggestion that made Rita's heart thud uncomfortably.

They all stood outside of Nate's door conversing about the best next steps, but Rita's eyes were on the door. Nate would be so frustrated when he woke up, after he found out that what they did was only temporary. It would take a little, too, in order to get him to understand what it took to transform in and out of his wolf form. He'd asked for her help and she was not about to let him down. They were far from done, but helping Nate meant facing the demons her and Leon had run from some time ago now. They all deserved a chance and they had the power to do something – so they had to do something. After all, if they didn't – who would? Not to mention, how many werewolves was Lorelei torturing with that grimoire? If they had no way to work on transformations, it could be an opening for those under their control to take back their lives.

Rita didn't have to look over to Leon to know his expression. He would want to keep them here, to be safe, and she understood that more than anything. No part of Rita wanted to put them in danger, but there was no one else. They were finally in a position to do something. "I do," she said finally, her hand finding his without a moment of thought.

/

After Nate managed to get his bearings, Rita laid out the plan. They would take a van (courtesy of the ever-resourceful Orvar) back up to the city. It was a bit of a drive, but without familiar plates they would be fine making it untracked into the state. Once they made it to the city, they would have to be perfect with their timing. The night after a full moon was the quietest night at the facility. If they moved after seven, they would have unlimited access to the first floor. In order to get the grimoire, they would have to lure Lorelei out and that was sure to be a production.

Becca would work as their bait. All she would have to manage was to convince whoever was still working the front desk that she wanted to turn herself into her aunt and Lorelei would come running out like an addict. It was a risky play to lure her out and bombard her with an onslaught, but just as Rita repeated over and over. It was not a fight they had to win, they just had to keep her distracted enough to get the book. That was it. They did not have to be more powerful or reckless, just smart and they would get it.

"Walk me through it again," Nate said as they broke into the city limits, "What happens if I can't transform?"

"Then you find me and I'll get you a gun," Rita explained, "Just don't let your guard down, either of you. If you feel unsure, do exactly what I said – okay? Do that and you'll be fine."

"Becca, here," Rita unzipped her jacket and handed it to Becca – it would only be slightly larger on her. She also moved to grab one of the few things Rita had packed from the facility. A bulletproof vest, the same she'd been wearing when she met Leon. "Put this on and put the jacket over it. Nothing's going to happen to you, but you're going to be on your own for a few minutes – just know that they can't touch you, ok? I'm not going to let any of them hurt you."

It felt like sending children to war – but none of them were children.

They pulled the van over less than a block from the facility and Leon killed the engine. Rita let out a deep exhale and turned again to face Nate and Becca where they were riding in the back. She was terrified, of course, but it never showed in her expression. She turned back to Leon and took his hand, squeezed it tightly, and brought it up to kiss. No matter what they would do this as they always did anything – together.

"You ready, Becca?"

 

[Acorn]

"No," she said, tugging the vest on and then shoving her arms into her jacket. "I mean, yes. Yes, I'm ready. Why wouldn't I be ready? I tell them I can throw tea at people with my mind. Then she'll come up and… and—" Becca's freckles stood out as her face grew white. Leon understood. He couldn't think about the witch without his stomach twisting into knots or flashing back to one of a hundred memories where she looked down at him, smirking, and then broke bones, crushed organs, and set him on fire from the inside all without even touching him. Lorelei might be her aunt, but he wouldn't put it past her to have fucked with Becca in some unredeemable way, too.

"She'll come up," Leon continued for her, "and we'll be here."

"You promise?" Her voice was tiny and her words clung to him.

"No way in hell we'd leave you," he said. "Unless you want us to, then I'm sure we—"

"No! Don't even joke about that," she said, but she'd found a smile somewhere. "Okay. I can do this." Becca took a deep breath and held onto it, and before she let it go, she slid open the van door and pushed herself out. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she zipped her coat and closed the door behind her chanting, "I can do this," under her breath. She wasn't the same timid girl they'd found at Olive Garden in Texas, who hadn't been able to make eye contact with him or Rita when they'd first met. This Becca was ready to go into a lion's den, and she didn't even look back at them.

From their vantage point, they watched Becca walk towards the nondescript office building and she didn't stop until she reached the front door. She tugged on it, but it didn't open. Shielding either side of her face with her hands, she leaned towards the glass and peered in, then smacked at it until the door opened and a man came out. Plainclothes, hand at his waist, finger pressed to his earpiece as he repeated what Becca said to him.

They didn't have to wait long for Lorelei. She came out in a knee-length black dress and heels, her red hair curled and pinned like it had been at the investor's ball when she'd walked him on stage and stripped him of his clothes and dignity before forcing him to change in front of a crowd. He clenched the steering wheel as he watched Lorelei beam smiles at Becca, shift the grimoire to one arm so she could reach out and curl her finger around a strand of long, red hair. She must've been working on someone when she'd heard about Becca, brought the grimoire up with her because it was too precious to leave behind. Goddamn, he wished he'd thought to grab it before they'd fled.

He squeezed Rita's hand one last time, and as soon as she sprang into motion, he did too, stepping from the van and disrobing so he could shift.

When he stepped out from behind the vehicle, he saw Becca shake her head, pull away from Lorelei, then turn and start running for them.

"Rebecca, don't be silly. I just wanted to talk! Come back!"

Lorelei began walking after her, but came to an abrupt stop when she saw the van. She tilted her head and squinted.

"Puppy? Is that you? And Rita, too?" She perched her hand on her hip and laughed. "You little hussy! You wanted me out here, didn't you?"

 

[Meraki]

Just as Rita anticipated, the scene escalated quickly.

By the time Becca came running back, Lorelei had already called out for them and Rita saw the man who had spoken to Becca run back in for reinforcements. They had only a few moments before they were swarmed with quite a few Enforcers and they needed to work as quickly as possible. Nate was a wildcard, Becca had limited magic, and Lorelei knew exactly how to manipulate Rita and Leon. They should have lost instantly, but fate seemed to be on their side as they all sprung into action and Lorelei looked genuinely surprised to be face with an onslaught. Rita didn't speak and instead pulled her gun from her holster and raised it up to shoot a warning shot at Lorelei's feet, knowing she would redirect anything Rita shot at her directly. All she wanted was to discombobulate her before the inevitable.

And with one shot, Lorelei's broken concentration and Rita's running footsteps, the other Enforcers exited the building in their bulletproof vests with guns drawn. But just as she thought, only about two of the four were armed with silver bullets, and the other two held tranquilizers. It was just like she thought – they weren't expendable to the Enforcers, at least Leon, Becca and Nate weren't – and that meant they had a shot at this. No one would be taking kill shots until it got dangerous.

"Rita?" one of the Enforcers spoke her name in surprise as she approached and they lowered their gun just enough to take a good look at her. She did not hesitate to move in and take a strong uppercut to the stomach, knee to the head and throw the first Enforcer to the ground. All she had to do was keep guns and tranquilizers away from Leon and the others. She had faith they would figure it out from there.

"Oh no, no you don't," she heard Lorelei's voice as Rita felt herself thrown back a good twenty feet and hit the sidewalk. This time, however, Rita braced herself for impact and rolled out of it, bounding back with as much energy as before. After abandoning everyone and going on the run with Leon, she was not about to let Lorelei and Jenny win. Not when she still had breath in her body and a gun in her hand. Hell, even without a gun she would fight until her knuckles bled and were raw to the bone. Lorelei was otherwise occupied as Rita ran in and heard Nate call her name.

She moved back to the first enforcer she took down and relieved him of his gun and tossed it back to Nate. "How do I use this?" he called out to her.

"You point it and pull the trigger," she called back, winded as she moved in and took out both the second and third enforcer that had exited the building. She thought about trying to use the tranquilizer on Lorelei, but it was too risky when the woman had shown Rita a million times over that a simple human couldn't touch her. It was okay, though. She didn't need to nor want to touch her and soon enough they would be out of her fire red hair for as long as Rita could manage.

The fight raged on as Rita moved in on the last enforcer and disarmed her, sending her over Rita's shoulder and into the concrete below. With one punch, Rita managed to subdue her and stumble back up to her feet. She was exhausted, sweat drenching her brow as she just kept fighting and fighting. She glanced back for a moment to see Leon, Nate and Becca all taking on Lorelei and she was about to move to help – when she heard footsteps behind her.

Everything moved in slow motion. Rita turned just as she heard the crack of a bullet discharged from a gun and when her green eyes finally met the man standing a good hundred feet back, everything in her went numb. Jackson. She tried to say the name but nothing was responding. Her gun clattered out of her hand and down onto the sidewalk. Her knees locked and everything remained rigid as if she were frozen in place. It wasn't until Rita managed to move a couple fingers did Rita start to feel a deep, insufferable burning spread through her abdomen. Her hand moved to touch the source of the burning and she glanced to see her fingers drenched in a deep, menacing red. All at once, the burning consumed her and she felt her knees grow weak and her mind grow blurry. She tried to take a step back, to call out for Leon, but nothing was processing. What was happening to her? What did he—

All she could feel was unbearable pain, enough that it would have pulled a scream from her throat if she could have found her own voice. The blood was pouring out of her, drenching her hand and staining the concrete below her and the clothes she wore.

In an instant, Rita felt her knees give out and she collapsed to the ground. She tried to move, but nothing was responding and instead she saw only one man glancing down at her from a few feet away with his gun drawn a second time at her. That's when it registered. He…Jackson shot her. "I could have protected you," Jackson growled, "but now I see that you're better off dead."

She tried to cry out, but all she could see was blackness tugging at the corners of her vision.

 

[Acorn]

Except for the calls they made to each other and the grunts and cries of pain as Rita bounced around from Enforcer to Enforcer and took them out, the scuffle occurred in near silence. It made the sound of gunfire all the louder. Leon jerked his head towards the source and saw Rita drop her gun then reach for her side and pull her hand away, her fingers glistening wetly.

There was a moment where he didn't understand what he saw, a moment where Rita was still okay, but then she hit the ground and it became real. His heart, his stomach, his everything dropped and he tried to scream her name, but all that came out was a garbled sound of panicked rage. Jackson loomed over her, gun raised and Leon scrabbled towards them on all fours. Lorelei's laughter rang out behind him as he left Nate and Becca with the witch. He didn't see when she flicked a wrist, sending Nate flying, nor when she did the same to Becca.

Leon was faster than he'd been the first time he'd gone after him. Jackson didn't even have time to reposition the aim of his weapon before Leon was on him. He had him on the ground and he tore into the Enforcer the same way he'd torn into the deer. Jackson got his arms between them, tried to push him off, but Leon didn't budge. He opened his mouth wide only to clamp it down again on his neck and pulled back, taking with it skin, artery, and muscle.

Two to three minutes tops.

But he needed it to happen now. He needed him dead. He couldn't hurt Rita again. He grabbed Jackson by his face, claws digging deep, then lifted him and slammed his head into the pavement, over and over again. The man's hands fell limp, he stopped moving, stopped breathing, but Leon didn't stop smearing him into the ground until Lorelei's laughter broke through his rage. He went for her, then, his lips peeled back in a snarl. She didn't stop laughing until he lunged at her face at the same time another smaller werewolf went for her back. She ducked and spun around, her eyes wide, and managed to fling a wrist up to send Nate away, but he didn't bounce like he had when he'd been in his human form; he was pushed two, maybe three steps, then he was after her again.

Leon circled, pushed into her space at the same time Nate did, and she screamed at them, throwing aside her grimoire so she could hold both hands out and they fell back, but when they renewed their attack there was a wall between them; invisible but impenetrable. She continued holding her hands out as they threw themselves against the shield she'd created.

"Um, I'll take that," Becca said, stepping up to retrieve the grimoire from the ground. She held it to her chest tightly with both hands and took several backward steps as Lorelei spat her fury. "You bitch! You fucking bitch! Come back here with that!"

He didn't hear what else she said because he left Nate to stand guard and went to Rita. He didn't see the pulpy mass that'd been Jackson's head. He only saw Rita. Blood, more blood than there had any right to be, surrounded her. Her eyes were open, she still breathed, but she didn't respond when he crouched next to her and carefully, so fucking carefully, scooped his clawed hands beneath her and stood with her in his arms. He was so engrossed with making sure he didn't hurt her as he walked her towards the van that it wasn't until Becca screamed, "NO!" and Lorelei went flying damn near to the office building that he realized she'd tried to go after the grimoire.

Lorelei didn't get back up.

Becca clutched the book and moved to his side. She breathed hard through her mouth, but in between breaths, managed to speak. "Okay, okay. Okay. Right. We've got the grimoire. We've got Rita. Rita, oh God. We should go."

Leon nodded.

 

[Meraki]

Nate shifted immediately when he saw Lorelei hit the ground. Despite her power, his attention was entirely on Leon as he scooped Rita up in his arms and rushed her to the van. Grabbing his pants and slipping them on, he picked up his shirt and tossed it to Becca before making his way to the driver's side. He climbed in quickly, turned the key and zipped up the hoodie he'd been wearing. There was too much adrenaline coursing through his veins for him to feel tired and once everyone was in and Leon turned back, Nate put those backroad southern driving skills to use and skidded out onto the street. All he knew was they needed to get out of the city. They needed to speak with Orvar. They needed to do a lot of fucking things, but above anything else – they needed to help Rita.

The gunshot had ignited something in him, the image of her collapsing shattering the uncertainty of transforming.

"You have to get the bullet out," Nate said matter-of-factly, remembering the way his own mother had bled out in front of him, "then use my shirt and apply pressure. Do not let up."

No matter how drenched the white fabric became, no matter how much her eyes fluttered closed. They had to keep applying pressure. It was a day's journey back to New Orleans – she wouldn't…fuck. She wouldn't make it. They couldn't let that happen.

Not when she'd done all of this for him.

/

She was drowning in an all-consuming pain. It burned through every vein and Rita wanted to cry out, to grasp the point of impact and curl in on herself, but nothing responded. Her hands hung uselessly at her sides, her eyes blinked slowly as she tried to process. One moment she saw the wolf and then Leon. Were…were they moving? She saw the darkness tugging at the corner of her vision, splotching like the moments after a camera flash. More than anything, she was freezing. She felt goosebumps raise on her skin as the blood poured out of her and it shuddered up her spine and shoulders uncomfortably. She saw them then – Becca, Leon – but she opened her mouth to speak and instead all that expelled from her lungs were shallow, labored breaths.

She tried desperately to move her hand and eventually it conceded just enough that she could feel the familiar warmth of Leon's hand in hers. It was burning hot, sweltering compared to her chilled skin. She held on with as much fervor as she could manage, but it was a weak, limp hold. Everything felt like moving through molasses. Her eyes, her hands, her words – nothing responded to her brain as quickly as she was used to. Her eyes fluttered closed to for a moment, a sweet escape from the pain, before she felt a deep pressure.

Immediately, her eyes clenched tight and a heartbreaking scream echoed through the van. Whatever was happening, it felt like someone was stabbing her with a thousand knives out of her abdomen. It was searing, painful and tears prickled in her eyes though she had no idea what was going on. All she knew was the wave of immense pain caused her to grip Leon's hand in a vice grip. But then it ebbed and there was just cold.

She could feel the blood hot and sticky against her skin, but slowly she began to lose feeling in much of anything. Her eyes struggled to stay open, the blinks became longer and more languid. It became almost impossible to keep them open under the weight of unconsciousness pulling her down.

"Le-" she tried to speak, but the sound was a whisper. A broken, painful whisper. "Leon."

 

[Acorn]

When Orvar had offered them the van, Leon had laughed; it was a monstrosity of a vehicle, with enough room inside to fit ten or more people easy. There were only four of them — what'd they need a big-ass van for?

Now he understood.

Orvar's people, or maybe Orvar himself, had removed the last two rows of seats, leaving the back open enough that someone wounded could be stretched out and tended to. Becca had placed herself at Rita's head and held onto her by the shoulders so she didn't shift around too much while Nate drove, and he was at Rita's side with her hand in his.

Her shirt was soaked with blood and when he peeled it back, it was like pulling two freshly glued pieces of paper apart. His heart flip-flopped its way into his throat, but Nate called out instructions from the front before panic could set up properly. How were they supposed to get the bullet out? They had the first-aid kit that Rita always made sure to bring, but they couldn't go digging around after a bullet and risk hitting something on the way.

They needed a hospital, a doctor, someone who knew what the hell they were doing.

"We can't," Becca said when he suggested it, "they'd be there."

"I don't give a fuck!" he exclaimed. "She needs help!"

"Maybe… Let me try something first, okay?"

He watched as Becca relinquished her hold on Rita's shoulders and then placed her hand over her abdomen, her palm hovering millimeters above the gunshot wound. She closed her eyes and her face scrunched up.

Then Rita screamed. Her hand tightened on his painfully and he opened his mouth to tell Becca to stop whatever she was doing, but she blinked, lifted her hand, and held out a bloody bullet pinched between her fingers. Rita's hand became lax in his even as Becca groped around her until she came up with the shirt Nate had given her and pressed it against Rita's side. Her eyes were drifting closed. She was fading.

"No, no, no." He leaned over her and brushed his free hand over her forehead, cupped her cheek, hoping the contact would make her eyes open again, but they remained closed. "Rita, wake up. You've gotta wake up. Please."

He held his breath as he slid his hand around to her neck, felt for her pulse, and only breathed again when he felt it flutter beneath his fingers. She was still alive, still fighting, but if they didn't do something, she'd keep bleeding, keep losing life a little bit at a time until there was no fighting, just fading until there was nothing left. His chin crumpled and his mouth became a thin line as he choked back tears. He couldn't break now, Rita still needed him. Leon brought her hand up to press a kiss to the back of it.

He still had her hand cradled against his mouth when a cell phone went sailing back to them.

Nate turned around just enough to make sure they'd seen it and said, "Tell Orvar. He'll know what to do."

"I'll have a doctor meet you," Orvar said moments later over the speaker, "I'll call back with coordinates."

Then, the vampire hung up.

A doctor. They'd fix Rita, they'd patch her up and she'd be okay. It was a light, some bit of hope to cling to, and Leon ran the backs of his curled fingers down her cheek. "We're gonna get you through this. You've just gotta keep breathing, okay? That's all you need to do right now. Just keep breathing."

 

[Meraki]

It was so hard to stay awake.

Within a few moments, Rita could not feel much of anything save for the uncomfortable pressure against her abdomen and the warm touch of Leon's hand in hers and his fingertips against her cheek. She could have sworn she'd heard him – Rita wake up – but everything was veiled in a heavy fog. All she wanted to do was keep her eyes close and give into the darkness that beckoned her like a warm blanket. Her skin was just so cold, shivers running up and down her arms, but she heard him again. Was she hallucinating?

Just keep breathing.

Each inhale became more labored, the exhales shaky, but Rita did as she was told. She held onto the edge of the light and tried to will her eyes open. It seemed nearly impossible, but there was something about his touch against her cheek that just called to her. In all the darkness consuming her vision, all she could think of was him. Leon. She'd promised him that she would be okay, she'd told him to trust her and to believe that they could and would all make it through this. She always feared watching him die after everything with Chase, but she was not about to let him endure that feeling. So even though it made the pain swell through her, she kept breathing.

In and out, over and over again, even when it felt like lead had settled on her chest. Her heart beat loudly in her own ears. She felt Leon's lips against her hand, his fire to her ice, and it pulled her to her senses for a moment. Each touch and kiss pulling her back to him like a wave crashing against the shore. She managed to open her eyes ever so slightly, just enough to catch a blurry glimpse of him as her mind begged to shut down. With her hand in his, she extended her fingers slowly and just enough so that she could touch the skin of his cheek. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He needed to know she was there and that above all else, she was not going to die today.

/

His senses were still on overload and Nate could smell the blood. He willed himself to not look back and keep his eyes on the road. Once Orvar sent them the coordinates, he punched it into his phone while driving and set the GPS for the fastest route. He probably should have pulled over but Rita was fucking dying, so the risk of a car accident didn't seem much in comparison. He drove as fast as he could manage, not wanting to get pulled over and have to explain why they had a dying woman with a gunshot wound in the back. There was no way Rita would survive if they stopped.

Hell, he didn't understand how the fuck she was going to survive now. The doctor seemed so far away and Leon just kept coaxing her as she started to slip away from them. Of course she was slipping away, there was so much blood in the back of that van even Orvar would have trouble resisting it. But they just had to keep driving, just had to keep pressure, and Nate just had to keep his eyes on the damn road.

But every moment, the thought of what he'd said to her before echoed painfully in his ears. Sure, he thought the Enforcers would try to take her out, but he never in his life thought that it would end like this. A point-blank shot and then she was down. Sometimes he forgot how fragile humans were, how fragile she was. He'd taken her shit day in and out and it was difficult to realize that she was not invincible. She seemed like it. She took all of their shit and just kept moving, kept helping, and he had never once heard her complain. That scream was one that sent shivers up his spine. He'd never heard her like that. But she was strong, that much he could see.

She'd managed to keep herself alive for nearly an hour now. With that amount of blood, she should have been dead but she wasn't. It seemed that Rita always kept her word.

As quickly as he could, Nate got them to their location. It was a little clinic in a side town on their way south. It was late enough that there was no one there, except for a man in a lab coat standing outside of the main doors. When Nate pulled in, he raised a hand as if to prove to him that he was waiting for them. Nate pulled as close to the front door as he could manage and killed the engine before he turned back.

"You need help?" he asked Leon, though he was certain the last thing the man wanted was for anyone else to touch Rita when she was in such a state. "We've gotta get her inside."

 

[Acorn]

A series of cracks appeared in his facade when she brushed her fingers against his cheek. His breath caught and he tightened his grip on her, pressing his face into the hand he held with such ferocity that it made him tremble. "Love you," he mumbled, then made a small sound in the back of his throat as his face collapsed in on itself. Tears stung but he fought to keep them back, clenched his jaw and willed them to stay from his eyes. Until that moment, he'd been focused on staying strong for Rita, but she touched him and it struck Leon that she might not come back from what'd happened, that every moment that passed might be the last. That could've been the last time she touched him, the last breath he watched lift her chest, the last time he caught a glimpse of her green eyes.

Becca looked up at him when he sniffled loudly, but he couldn't see her until some of the pain leaked away. When the world finally swam back into focus and he saw her expression of heartfelt concern, he scrubbed at his face with the heel of his palm and shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said thickly, even though she hadn't asked.

She didn't question his lie.

~*~
​

Just as Nate had expected, Leon didn't accept his offer of help. He wordlessly gathered her up, held her against his chest and tried not to focus on how pale she was and how cold she felt, how her arms and legs dangled limply, how he had to cradle her head so it didn't roll back. He focused on walking. One step at a time. Carefully, to the clinic entrance. Nate had parked close enough that in reality, he'd only had to turn with her and take a few steps, but time passed strangely and he felt each second stretch like taffy, yet as soon as he'd blinked, they were being ushered into an examination room and he gently placed her on the bed. Before he stepped back he leaned down to kiss her forehead and squeezed her hand, smiling grimly.

The doctor, an older man with wild grey hair and bushy eyebrows, had already snapped on gloves and was poised with a pair of scissors that he took to the front of Rita's shirt as soon as Leon moved, and he was sure that if he'd spent any more time in his way, the man would've shoved him aside.

He backed up as far as he could in the room, making space for Nate and Becca, and he crossed his arms over his chest to watch. As the doctor examined Rita, he felt a warmth at his side and he glanced at Becca before returning his attention to the medical bed. She wrapped her hands around his bicep and leaned her head against his arm, then sighed.

"She'll be okay," she said.

"Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and Becca tightened her hands on his arm reassuringly.

~*~
​

"What? We've already stayed here too long."

"The surgery wouldn't be conducted here. You would need a surgeon, which I am not, at the hospital, where you aren't. The best I can do is to give her something for the pain and put a bandage on, but that won't stop the bleeding." He pulled his gloves off and held them loosely in one hand. "She needs a surgeon."

"How long would it take?"

The doctor made a scoffing noise and threw his gloves on the nearby counter. "I just said I'm not a surgeon."

"Fine. Your best guess, then."

"A few hours, and that's not counting recovery time. Then they'd want to keep her for observation for a day or two."

Leon stalked away from the wall, running both hands through his hair. He walked a tight circle, mouth caught up in a scowl, and then shook his head. There was no way. When he'd insisted on taking her to the hospital when they'd first gotten into the van, he'd imagined something like an emergency room visit where they'd check her out, bandage her, give her some pain medicine, and then send them on their way. But the doctor said she was bleeding from the inside, that it wouldn't stop until a surgeon was able to cut her open and stitch up whatever the bullet had nicked. It was too bad that Lorelei wasn't around to do the second half of her job, where she'd heal him up after breaking him.

His face grew slack as realization dawned on him.

"Becca, you can heal, right?"

"Huh? No? I mean, wait. What do you mean?"

"Lorelei, when she'd… when she'd break shit, she'd do this thing. She'd hold her hands over me, and they'd glow gold, and then it fixed whatever she'd fucked up. Can you do that?"

"I've never tried," she said, her voice made small by her uncertainty.

Leon went to her, caught her by the elbow and she blinked up at him. "Can you try? Please?"

~*~
​

The doctor had been unsurprised by Becca's ability, and the only thing he'd had to say about it after she'd finished was a dry, "Interesting."

She'd been able to seal up whatever had been leaking on the inside, but the entry hole and the path the bullet had taken still remained. He'd wanted to push her to do more, but she'd almost hit the ground after she'd finished and tried to step away from Rita. Nate had rushed over and helped her to a chair while the doctor busied himself with bandaging Rita. He also gave her a shot, "for the pain," and then another, "for infection."

He carried Rita back out, a blanket the doctor had given them cocooned around her. Nate had Becca by the arm and she leaned heavily on him until she could flop into the back of the van and then dragged herself over to a corner where she curled into a fetal position. She'd done a lot for them; helped fend off Lorelei, pulled a bullet from Rita, and then reached inside her and did something only a surgeon should've been able to.

She deserved some rest.

Leon got Rita situated in the back of the van, a coat under her head to act as a makeshift pillow, the blanket tucked around her tenderly, then climbed in to sit next to her as he had been before. He rested his hand on her shoulder, tightened it briefly, and then reached up to run a finger along her forehead, pulling away strands of hair that'd fallen into her face.

"Guess now all we gotta do is make it to New Orleans without getting pulled over," he said quietly, then laughed with what little energy he had left; it ended up being a tiny snort through his nose.

 

[Meraki]

Becca was something fucking else.

Nate helped the redhead into the van before turning to shut the door and slip back into the driver's seat. They still had a way to go before they even broke through Louisiana lines, but thanks to Becca, Rita had a shot. Poor choice of words, but it was true. She didn't look like it, though. Her skin was pale and he had watched Leon support her entirely as he carried her to and from the clinic. The doctor had given her a few shots, one specifically for painkillers, and for that Nate was glad. He couldn't handle another scream, he didn't have it in him. It sounded fucking selfish, but there was something about Rita crying out so deeply in pain that made his spine curl.

He kicked the car in drive and started back out onto the road. After a quick check-in with Orvar, he drove and drove without break until the low gas light came on. Pulling into a gas station, he slipped out of the eerily quiet van and filled up the tank. While he was out, he grabbed a few energy drinks, a couple waters, and a shitty tourist sweatshirt before slipping back into the van – refueled and ready to go. When he was finally seated, he unzipped his hoodie and slid the new sweatshirt over his bare skin. The warm zip up was handed back and laid over Becca as he set one of the waters beside her. He didn't want to wake her, but she would need to stay warm and hydrated. That kind of magic had to come with one hell of a headache. He turned to toss two water bottles to Leon. One for him, of course, and the other – "in case she wakes up," Nate said simply before settling back into his seat and turning the key.

It was just a waiting game now. They needed to get her to a bed, somewhere she could be warm and actually heal – not the makeshift bed in the back of a van. Maybe then, lying beside her, even Leon could get some rest.

/

All Rita saw was darkness.

She could not feel anything in her body anymore. Nothing hurt, she wasn't cold – nothing. She wondered, for a moment, if she was dead but surely that couldn't have been it. After everything a person went through in life, there was no way the afterlife was just eternal darkness. Rita tried to move, but nothing responded, and she could not find her voice. There was nothing in that moment – no sound, no feeling, no Leon. Where was he? Where was she?

She couldn't even find her own heartbeat – it had been so loud in her ears before.

Then, in an instant, Chase was there – smiling at her. It was the most vivid image she had ever remembered, almost real as he stood there off in the darkness. There had been a time in her life when she would have run to him, would have fought with everything she had to find a way to him, but instead she felt a panic raise in her. It was the first feeling she had managed – sheer panic. Leon. She could not leave Leon behind, she would not leave Leon behind. He was still there and she knew him, she knew that he was still holding on, still fighting, and she had the choice Chase had never had. She could let go, let the pain leave her forever and hope for peace, or she could claw through the pain to find her way back to Leon.

She had to find her way back, she wasn't done yet. She had planned a future so easily with Chase, until it was all shattered, and Rita wanted to try again. Rita wanted to take the risk, to choose to stay beside Leon and fight for their future. She wanted, above all else, to finally get her chance. She had finally opened her heart and she would not break his – not so long as she had a single, shaky breath still in her lungs.

Just breathe, she remembered him saying, so she willed herself to try and find her lungs. Slowly but surely, she began to feel the breaths rise and fall in her chest again, a faint heartbeat thudding in her ears. Then there was pain again, searing and throbbing, but it was eased just a bit. Everything felt like it was weighed down but she just kept willing her body to wake and she knew it had to respond eventually.

/

By the time they broke into New Orleans, Nate was nearly nodding off at the wheel. He pushed and pushed until they managed to pull in and they emptied out of the car. It was the next night and a much more alert Orvar was standing in the doorway of the home as the four piled out of the car. Leon took Rita and Nate moved to help an unsteady Becca to her feet. When it was clear after a step that she wasn't making much forward progress, Nate picked her up too and carried her into the house. He ignored the knowing looks from Orvar and brought her up to the room she'd occupied across the hall from his own. He pushed the door open and tucked her in to bed after slipping off her shoes.

"Get some rest," he said finally before moving back to Leon and Rita's room. The door was open and they were working on getting her inside. Nate had hoped to see her awake and alert, but nothing changed much over the last few hours. She was still pale and unconscious, curled up in a blanket and Leon's arms. "Lemme know when she wakes up," he said finally with a yawn he could not control. He felt useless now, with Rita under Leon's care and Becca passed out, he just sort of stood there for a moment before he walked back to his own room. He peeked in the cracked door of Becca's room to see her completely passed out and he shook his head. He walked in and sat in the chair in the corner and just took a moment to exhale.

It didn't feel like a moment where any of them should be alone.

So when he nodded off, Nate didn't fight it. After a whole day of driving, he passed out contently in the comfortable arm chair.

 

[Acorn]

He looked up in surprise at the sound of Nate's voice but was quick to agree to his request. It was the least he could do after Nate had pulled through for them like he had. Even as he'd sat in the back of the van with Rita, he'd realized things wouldn't have turned out like they had without Nate. He didn't know if he would've been able to take on Lorelei by himself, but he hadn't had to because Nate had been there. He'd set them on the path to get Rita to the doctor, taken care of Becca when she needed it, and he'd not complained a single time about driving for hours on end.

Leon was glad they hadn't taken him back to the woods and left him there.

Once Nate left and it was just him and Orvar, Leon returned his focus to getting Rita situated. Without having to be asked, Orvar turned the bed down, fluffed Rita's pillow, then stepped back so Leon could place her on the mattress. He left her wrapped in the blanket the doctor had given them, then pulled the sheets and comforter up and over her. She'd been so cold; it couldn't hurt to double up. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Rita and placed his hand on the side of her face, running his thumb over her cheek.

Exhaustion had settled bone-deep in him after shifting, being half out of his mind with worry, and staying up more than twenty-four hours straight, but he didn't want his head anywhere near a pillow just yet. He needed to stay awake, he needed to watch her, make sure she was alright, and he couldn't do that if he fell asleep. He had to—

"You should sleep," Orvar said from the doorway, and Leon startled because he'd forgotten the vampire was still in the room, "but I understand why you feel as if you cannot."

Leon stared at him blearily. If no one was watching her, then who would get help if something went wrong? He couldn't have Orvar watch her because he didn't trust him to stop himself from nibbling on Rita. But it wasn't just Orvar. Even if Becca or Nate had been in a position to watch her, would they watch her like they should? They didn't love her like he did, they wouldn't watch her the same way. How could they?

"Leon," the vampire said his name gently, and when Leon looked at him again, Orvar smiled. "If you allow me, I can expedite the healing process."

Expedite the… healing process? Could he make Rita better again? Make it so she didn't look so frail and pale in the middle of the bed. Make it so he could hold her without worrying that he'd hurt her? Make her open her eyes, make her smile, make her laugh?

"How?" he demanded.

Orvar unbuttoned one of his sleeves and rolled it back. "My blood would work within Rita to heal her if she drank—"

"No."

"Leon."

"No."

"Very well. If you change your mind, please let me know."

He shook his head, turned to Rita, and even when Orvar closed the door behind him, he didn't look away from her again.

Fucking vampires. Blood wasn't the solution to every problem. And what was the cost of the healing? Would Rita be tied to him in some way afterward? He supposed he could've asked rather than shutting Orvar down, but Rita was already on the mend. They didn't need to risk her doing something like drinking a vampire's blood just to speed things along. If it sounded like a good idea to her when she woke up, then he wouldn't stop her, but it wasn't something he'd force on her just because he wanted her well again.

Leon continued to sit by her side, but as the night crawled on, he found it impossible not to scoot down on the bed a bit, pull his legs onto the mattress, and curl up next to Rita so he could watch her face while he rested his head for a moment. He could even place his hand on the center of her chest to feel the steady rise and fall as she breathed, and that way he could close his eyes long enough to make them stop stinging. Just for a second. He managed to open his eyes again once, twice, but the third time, they closed and remained shut.

He sighed, nuzzled his cheek into the corner of pillow that Rita wasn't using, then he was asleep.

 

[Meraki]

The next time Rita came to, there was so much pain it near dragged her out of unconsciousness. Suddenly she could feel her fingers, the weight of her breath and a heaviness on her chest as if someone were pushing her down. Her breathing was shaky and slow, but what she noticed most was the overwhelming pain radiating from her abdomen. It felt like it was one fire, burning her from the inside out. She felt her fingers twitch at her side, slow and labored, but it was there. There was a warmth next to her though, an inviting warmth that beckoned her back into consciousness.

Leon?

When Rita willed her eyes open, the brightness of the morning stung her eyes so painfully that they fluttered back shut and she shifted with a bit of a groan. Where was she? Was she still in the van? Had she ever even made it to the van? She turned her attention to the weight on her chest, but could outline the familiar spread of fingers across her skin. She knew those hands – far too large to be anyone but Leon's. She tried to will herself to speak, but there was nothing and her eyes revolted at the idea of opening back up but she had to try. What was the last thing she remembered?

A gunshot and then pain – such immense pain that it sent a shiver up her spine just thinking about it. She had never in her life felt something as painful as that. She was shot, wasn't she? At the realization her mind recognized the depth of the bullet wound in her abdomen and the pain grew worse, threatening to fog her mind back up and pull her under. No – no, she'd been asleep too long. It was dark before, now it was light. Were they back in New Orleans? How did they get there?

With a gentle groan, Rita managed to open her eyes just a flutter. She lulled her head to the side to catch glimpse of Leon lying there, though he was slowly coming into focus. "L—" she started but her throat felt dry and scratchy, begging for any sort of hydration. A cough rippled through her, causing her to wince in pain as her wound cried out against the pressure. "L-Leon?"

 

[Acorn]

He'd slept long and hard enough that he'd had multiple dreams, but her voice pulled him from sleep so abruptly that he couldn't even recall an impression of them. All he could see was Rita, her eyes open, awake. She was awake. Since he'd lost his shit in front of Becca, he hadn't allowed himself to put words to the fear that she might not wake up, but it'd sat beneath the surface, festered and bubbled until that moment, the moment she'd opened her eyes and she'd called his name.

He breathed a series of relieved laughs and sat up, careful not to jar the mattress as he moved, but it was so well constructed he hadn't needed to bother. "Hey. Hey you," he said, smiling and reaching for the side of her face so he could cup it in his palm. "Goddamn, it's good to see you awake." He shook his head and the smile collapsed like the center of his abuela's cakes when he'd stomp around too much in the kitchen. "So good," he repeated, and cleared his throat and slammed his eyes closed, trying to get ahead of the tears.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, then opened his eyes again.

She looked fucking miserable. Every line on her face told of pain and was it any wonder? She'd been shot and he had her wrapped up in a blanket like she was a butterfly in waiting.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I— you were so cold in the van and— here. Let me get you out of there." He released her face and pulled back the comforter to loosen the blanket the doctor had given them, so maybe it wouldn't make her wince with every breath. "Unless you're cold? If you're cold I'll put it back." His hands hovered over her, prepared to go into motion again as soon as she said the word.

 

[Meraki]

Hey you.

All she wanted was to hear his voice and there it was, deep and warm as the first day she'd met him. It eased the panic welling up in her chest and it certainly helped to feel him loosen the blanket around her. Suddenly it was like her body was freed and her lungs sucked in slow, careful breaths. Each one hurt with the rise and fall of her chest, but at least she could breathe. What hurt the most, more than any wound, was the look of relief on his face as he slammed his eyes shut. Rita moved just enough as he loosened the blankets and slipped her fingers into his. She did not have much strength, but it was important to her. His touch was everything and Rita knew more than anything what it felt to be in his position.

She took a shaky breath and tried to test out her movement, but everything hurt so deeply had she winced and let out a soft whimper. Her hand tightened on his, though not the vice grip she'd had when the bullet was taken out of her. "He," she finally breathed out, a gentle smirk finding her lips as her tired green eyes looked up to him, "It's good…" she breathed, "to see you too."

"I'm s-sorry," she managed out though she felt like she was running on empty. The pain fogged her mind and she fought through it. The last thing she wanted to do was fall back asleep. "For…for scaring you." The words were depth of her words echoed between them before she let out a small little breathy laugh and clenched her eyes at the feeling that rippled through her abdomen. "And sorry for…for shooting you that --- that one time and swearing I didn't."

It was just a graze, but she hoped the pain he'd felt was nothing like this. It was a lighthearted joke though, one that came naturally even through the immense discomfort.

"I'm n-not cold," she exhaled, "It just hurts – so much."

"What…what happened? Where are we?" she blinked a few more times as the rest of the room came into view, "How did we…get back to New Orleans?"

 

[Acorn]

Leon held her hand and savored how warm it was, how when he'd shift his fingers, she'd respond to the movement in kind; it wasn't like when he'd held onto her frigid, limp hand in the van. He'd held onto her for hours, willing some of his heat to transfer to her, but it'd been a fruitless endeavor. She had scared him. She'd made him think about what life would be without her in it and it'd terrified him. To go to bed alone, wake up alone, dredge through all the shit alone — she'd woven herself so neatly into his everyday that he didn't know what he was supposed to do if she pulled the thread back out.

But he didn't think she needed to apologize. She couldn't help how attached he was, how useless he'd be if something happened to her, just like she couldn't help that Jackson had shot her. He'd never be able to hurt her again, at least. He blinked and licked his lips, but Rita saved him from thinking about what'd happened in further detail with her joke.

"What? You're finally admitting it? Took long enough," he said, and snorted a laugh, "but I reckon I can forgive you."

His expression sobered quickly when she mentioned hurting. Leon didn't remember a time she'd mentioned being in pain. Even after she'd had her head slammed into the wall by a werewolf and ended up with a concussion, she'd never breathed a complaint. She'd soldiered through. With the help of some pain medicine, though. He mainly remembered that she'd been high as a kite the very first time she'd kissed him, then she'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. Besides the shot the doctor had given her, he realized she hadn't had anything for the pain — not even Tylenol (not that he figured it'd do much to take the edge off a gunshot wound).

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning over and stroking his hand over her hair. "You give me just a second and I'll tell you everything." He leaned back and fished his phone out with his free hand, then tapped a message to Orvar; it was daytime, there was a possibility the vampire had gone to sleep, but he was the first person he could think of who would be able to help Rita with her pain.

"Alright," he said, and dropped his phone alongside his leg on the bed. "We got back to New Orleans 'cause Nate drove us the whole way. He didn't stop except to get gas, didn't even ask anyone else to take over. Impressed the shit out of me." He opened his mouth to continue, but closed it again and shifted slightly, pulling her hand closer to him so he could encapsulate it with both of his. "Now, I hate to be the one to tell you this," he said gravely, though the starts of a smile tugged at his lips as he continued, "but you got shot."

It probably wouldn't be news to Rita that he was shit at poker.

There was a light tapping at the door, and Leon disregarded the sound as a figment of his imagination because there was no way that—

tap, tap

"I have Rita's medicine."

No, not a figment of his imagination.

"Door's unlocked," he called out, not wanting to leave Rita's side for even the handful of seconds it'd require for him to let Orvar in.

"And the curtains closed?" Leon looked at the open curtains that allowed sunlight through the windows and sighed. Right. Vampires and sunlight didn't mix. Looked like he'd have to leave Rita, after all. He squeezed her hand before he stood and went over to the curtains, pulling them shut and hiding them away from the sun long enough for Orvar to visit.

"Alright, you're good," he said, then made his way back to Rita and sat down right as the vampire entered, pill bottle in one hand and a slender glass of water with a bright pink bendy straw in the other. "I believe you are to," Orvar held the bottle up and twisted it until the label faced him, "take one pill every four to six hours as needed."

He deposited pill bottle and glass on the nightstand next to them and smiled at Rita. "I'm happy you've rejoined us, my dear."

Then, Orvar left them alone.

"Swear I just texted him," Leon muttered. He extracted a pill from the bottle then held both medicine and water out to her. "Hey, bendy straw," he said as he tilted the glass so it twirled towards her. "You need help?"

 

[Meraki]

"Shot?" Rita feigned ignorance, but her smile gave herself away, "I thought it was…s-something I ate."

She was already frustrated that her lungs didn't seem to be producing enough air for her sentences, leaving her breathing a bit harder than she would have liked it. The pain radiated with every breath and when she heard Leon beckon in the figure behind the door, she felt a bit embarrassed to meet Orvar's eyes when she was so useless, but he smiled at her and it was a genuine brightness in his expression. Happy you've rejoined us. So it had to have been bad, then. Rita could tell from the pain that the shot was a good one, one that should have probably killed her, but the last thing she wanted to dwell on was dying.

She could not remember anything after the bullet being pulled from her, but she did not remember dying. Slipping maybe, but she did remember seeing Chase. She remembered fighting to come back. A shaky exhale left her lips and Rita offered Orvar a gentle, tired smile as he exited to leave the two of them together. He always knew exactly what they needed, when they needed it. It was a skill Rita envied a bit, honestly. "He's a v-vampire," Rita managed out with a knowing look, "are you…really that surprised?"

She watched as Leon shook out a single pill and held the water towards her. Rita did not even think twice about trying to sit up, her shoulders only making it a centimeter off the bed before her abs contracted and she let out a yelp. "Fuck," she breathed out, her breathing coming in heavier bursts, causing even more discomfort. She clenched her eyes shut until the initial wave of pain passed. Once they were open, she blinked hard a few times and tried to ease her breathing. Sitting up seemed entirely out of the question now, given she was under forty-eight hours after injury. It was a stupid mistake but Rita was not used to having to be helped with such simple tasks as water.

"Yeah," she finally breathed out, accepting his help. "I am never…" she caught her breath, "doing that again." Maybe after she had some pain killers in her system it would be different but she was just foggy with the pain. Everything seared and ached, everything except for the parts of her body Leon held onto gently. When his fingertips hit her cheek, it eased every thought in her mind. The pain was exhausting her, though, and she was slowly beginning to lose the energy she'd woken up with. She let him bring the pill and bendy straw to her lips and Rita drank the water slowly. It churned uncomfortably in her stomach but it quenched the dryness of her throat. She took a few long sips and pulled away, seemingly a bit out of breath from such a simple task.

"Have you s-slept?" she asked, "Or eaten?"

Leave it to Rita to worry, even when she brushed death.

"Is everyone…a-alright?"