Hello! And welcome to Endlessly, the sequel to The Sickness. I encourage you, if you haven't read/finished The Sickness prior to reading this, please go and do so, otherwise nothing will make any sort of sense. Other than that, enjoy! :)

Sunday morning, 8:36 A.M.

Pain. Burning. White-hot agony that sears the flesh and scorches the bone. Teeth clenched in a grimace and throat pouring out a howl. Shaking. Trembling. Thrashing. Violently shifting and clawing. Scratching and screaming, almost, as the pain burns deeper and deeper. Ragged breaths and desperate whispers for cold, cold, cold… please, cold… Make it cold, make it cold. It's hot, too hot… burning… hot…

"…make it? Oh, God…"

Another growl, a grimace, and a violent wave of burning agony spreads, another deafening scream of torture. Brutal. Guttural and deep from within the throat, the chest that's heaving and collapsing with breath. Sweat breaks out to cool the surface of overheated and pink flesh, once pale with such imminent death. It fails.

"…increasing… too fast.. change… might not make it…"

Late Sunday morning, 11:59 A.M.

Burning. Agony that rolls over petrified and sticky-hot skin, making the tremors visible but brief. Mumbled moans and whimpers, but no further screams. Maybe the occasional whine and incantation of a prayer or a curse.

The membrane of eyelids are bruised almost black in their blue and purple hue. Any time they lift, the eyes are bloodshot, vessels popped and destroyed from strain. The pupils are blown black, enveloping the irises. The face is paling, lips are dry.

"…heart rate is slowing.. Maybe…"

Sunday afternoon, 2:25 P.M

Drifting… In and out of swirling, warm darkness. In between clouds of all sizes and dark colors, in and out of complete emptiness. Complete warmth and comfort. Far from the stars that seem forever distant and soft in their fading light. Out of reach, even if only barely so. Drifting amongst the seas of endless, fading stars, all clinging… Clinging to their glow. Dying.

…Dying? Dying implies weakness, age, injury, sickness or failure… No, not dying. Clinging and holding on to what life is left within them. What warmth is left. What darkness. Clinging to those shreds of light. Light… like humanity.

"…changing… still under…"

Humanity?

"How much… wakes?"

What humanity?

"…uncertain…"

Sunday evening, 5:18 P.M.

Still. Cold. Very, very cold. Aching and immobile. Stiff and rigid, joints locked and muscles frozen. Like waking from a long, wintery sleep. The moment where the eyes open and the neck turns for the first time, unyielding in its lock. Cold. Only there is still darkness. Once warm and filled with stars. Now just dark. Now just cold and empty.

It's like lying on a stone floor, held there by some unseen force. A weight on the chest and limbs, holding them down. Like lying in death, creeping in and swooping close. Such cold, unkind and unyielding death…

Sunday evening, 6:02 P.M.

Fingers pressed to the pulse points of the throat and wrist, marred with healed scars of vicious teeth marks, Lynn waited in silence with Adam fidgeting at her side, watching with wide and nervous eyes. Her jaw was set in an unreadable expression, her eyes guarded, her mind blocked to the blue eyed male. Even if Adam tried to push through to see what she saw, hear and feel what she felt, it would have been useless. She was focused. He was anxious.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Adam shifted his gaze from Lynn's face down to that of Tommy's. The blond's eyes were closed to the world, his lips parted ever so slightly, pale and cold to the touch. No breath passed through his teeth, his chest did not rise and fall with breath. Tommy was silent and cold as the grave. And it was a wonder that Adam wasn't crying about it.

"The pulse is gone. He's dead." Lynn said gently, her eyes unfocused as she removed her hands from the blond's seemingly-sleeping figure to let them rest in her lap. Adam bit through the skin, feeling blood pooling into his mouth and trickling down his chin. He wiped it away quickly, licking his lip and healing the wound almost instantly. It wasn't even painful.

Tommy's frame had been laid out upon the floor, his arms at his sides, legs drawn straight out and relaxed. His head was tilted back some, his face angled to the ceiling. His shirt was stained with crusty red, a small hole in the center of his chest. His jeans were splattered with blood, well-worn and loved once before the mess of this day. Adam felt a shake in his very being as he reached out, touching his lover's cheek. He was cold, even to Adam.

"How much longer?" Adam whispered, frowning at the desperate crack in his voice. They couldn't risk any more sun exposure and had stayed in the warehouse as the sun rose high into the air and then began its descent. It wasn't exactly the most comforting of places, but they had blood bags and they had darkness, and that was enough.

"Not much longer. The venom has stopped the function of the heart and internal organs. At this point it's a matter of waiting for the brain to become responsive again.." There was a tone to Lynn's voice that made Adam frown, and he turned his attention towards her.

"What if the brain doesn't respond?" He asked, and Lynn grew somber, her eyes locked on Tommy's pale face. Adam frowned a little further, licking his bottom lip before speaking. "The brain will respond… right?"

"It should… It's supposed to," Lynn commented, her voice quiet. Adam let out a breath, but he knew there was something else. Lynn was tense and quiet, staring intently at the blond, as if waiting—hoping—that the venom was going to work.

"What do you mean it's supposed to, Lynn? Is there a chance that this whole process isn't going to work, and that Tommy suffered an agonizingly torturous death?" Adam hissed, his voice cold and demeaning. Despite the tone and the words, Lynn didn't seem to be phased by any of it.

"It's slim, but it's there. Tommy had lost so much blood and was so weak before you injected the venom into his system. His heart might not have been able to take the pain. That's why I was saying he might not make it. The rate was increasing too rapidly, too hard and stuttered to that of the change itself. It's…slight, but it's possible that his heart stopped and he died before the venom could finish spreading."

Adam tore his gaze away from his mentor, staring with fear at Tommy. The idea that Tommy might not make it frightened him. And with that fright was an immeasurable amount of guilt that was tied to one thought: if Tommy didn't make it, Adam would have killed him in the most painful and agonizing way possible. He would have taken Tommy's life away in a wave of burning agony followed by ice cold and stiff death.

Biting down on his lip again, Adam could feel the sting of venom in his eyes as tears welled. He reached out slowly, taking Tommy's right hand in his own, holding it close. It was cold and still to the touch, and Adam to fight the soft whimper that threatened to spill forth from his mouth. He held Tommy's hand like he was holding onto hope. Holding onto to something—anything—that he could believe in. He had to believe.

Beside him, Lynn sighed softly before standing and crossing the small space of the room to where Vix was huddled up in a corner, sleeping. Adam watched from the corner of his eye as the elder vampire grabbed her jacket that had been resting on the back of a chair and draped it over Vix's curled up and sleeping form. He allowed a small smile before returning his focus to Tommy's expressionless and pale face, letting out a heavy breath.

It hadn't been easy by any means to watch Tommy thrash and scream in pain. More often than not, Adam had been tempted to tell Lynn to just end it for him. Just take his life away and make the pain stop. But deep down, he kept repressing the urge. Deep down he knew that, if this plan were to succeed, it would be the right thing. He was giving Tommy a second chance at life. A chance to live in his prime for all eternity…

But, all the same, he was damning Tommy's soul with this decision. He was ripping it out and replacing it with a demon. A demon with a lust for blood that would never be fully quenched. Sure, he was gifting Tommy with immortality, but it came at a terrible price, and it was that price that made him want to end it for Tommy. End the suffering and let him sleep in peace.

Sighing heavily, Adam pressed a soft kiss to Tommy's knuckles, letting his eyes drift shut. The whole day had been exhausting between the lack of sleep and the beating he took from Joshua. Not to mention, he hadn't had a true and decent meal in several days, and while the blood bags sufficed, they weren't ideal.

"Come on, Tommy… please…" Adam whispered against Tommy's skin. He wasn't always one to be proud to beg, but in this case he had no other alternative. Tommy was still and quiet, ice cold to the touch. "Please, Tommy…"

Please…