She'd mostly stopped shaking by the time she made it back to King's room, but she still hesitated for a long moment outside the door, trying to compose herself, stay strong for him, and for herself.

It was a wasted effort - as soon as she opened the door and stepped in, King saw everything that she was trying to hide. He knew her too well, and she'd never regretted that before now.

"I'm going to guess that you've heard the good news, then?"

She didn't know how he could be so flippant about it, even given his propensity to make a joke out of everything, especially the things that shouldn't be joked about. She moved further into the room, shutting the door behind her and avoiding King's eyes until she'd regained at least some control of her emotions.

It was a wasted effort. She dug deep - so fucking deep - into her reserves and it still wasn't enough.

"Caulder told me, yes." Her voice wasn't shaking now, and that was something at least.

King nodded slowly, his eyes drifting away from her face as he lost himself in his own thoughts for a moment, and when he came back to her, his expression was twisting ruefully.

"Not really the outcome we were hoping for, I guess," he said, and the corner of his mouth quirked up a little.

"Caulder's not giving up." It was important to hold onto that. She had to hold on to that, and so did King.

"Yeah, I know." His smile this time was no more genuine than the first, just a bit bigger. "But just to be on the safe side, I think I'll be cancelling any holidays in the sun for the foreseeable future. Don't want to burn, after all."

Her eyes prickled, tears welling up in them in spite of her best efforts to keep them at bay. She took a deep, shaky breath, holding it down inside her and trying to stay calm, but then she caught sight of his face, the concern crinkling his brow, and she let it all out again, even more shakily.

"Hey, now. You're supposed to be the strong, silent type, remember, Whistler? I'm the spunky, emotionally available sidekick."

That helped - her breath, when she released it, came out in an explosive little chuckle, one that was cracked and broken around the edges but still better than a sob.

"That right?"

"Damn straight. Of course, you realise this makes me the cute one?"

"In your dreams, King."

"Only the really good ones," he said, and just like that she was struggling to keep it together again, fighting back the tears and the screams of anguish, knowing that neither would help him.

It was a close call, but she forced it back down again, slamming the lid down as hard as she could and fastening it as tightly as she knew how.

"Are you okay?" she asked him when she'd finally managed to lock everything away, knowing that it was a stupid question but needing to hear the answer anyway.

"I'll -" He trailed off, his mouth twisting wryly again. "I was going to say 'live', but somehow that doesn't seem appropriate."

"You promised me," she said, surprising herself with the ferocity of the words. She surprised King, as well. He retreated into a wary kind of silence, watching her closely but not answering her, not at first. "You -"

She bit off the words, clamping down on them before she let them out but it didn't matter. Her meaning was clear.

"And you promised me, too," he said quietly, his words lacking the force of hers but hitting home anyway. He held her gaze steadily, and she was the first one to look away, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat, the one that was threatening to choke her. "Abby..."

He trailed off again, searching her face for some sign, something she couldn't even begin to grasp. She had no idea if he found it or not, but he settled back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling rather than looking in her direction, and sighed softly. "I'm not giving up, okay?" He shot her a quick glance, his eyes tracing over her face again. "But I think I'm entitled to think that this whole thing sucks donkey balls."

He was a master of understatement, but she'd take it. She'd take anything if it meant he was sticking with her, refusing to quit even after this latest setback.

Setback. It sounded so innocuous in her head, like it was a minor hurdle when it was anything but.

"Can you do something for me, please?"

She nodded, knowing from the slightly diffident tone in his voice that she probably wasn't going to like it much. But she guessed her feelings about stuff like that didn't matter anymore, not in the grand scheme of things.

"Make sure you do keep Zoë away from me," he asked, turning his head again and looking straight back at her. "That might be the one thing I'm not joking about."

This time he didn't look away and neither did she.

"King..."

His face twisted, something dark and dangerous flashing through his eyes. "Do you know what Danica threatened me with? The last time she got her talons into me?"

The switch in subject confused her and she shook her head mutely, searching her memory and coming up blank. He'd never mentioned it and that didn't bode well, even given the fact that he was talking about his psychotic ex.

"She told me that she knew what scared me most. And she was right, to give the horse-humping bitch her dues. Do you want to know what it was?"

She didn't, she really didn't, but she nodded anyway, unable to help itself. It was the very least she could offer him and yet lurking underneath that was a dreadful kind of fascination, the need to keep poking at it, just to see how horrific it could get.

"She told me that she'd turn me again, make me into the thing I hate most. Then she'd wait, and for someone with impulse control as poor as hers, she could be really fucking patient if it was going to get her what she wanted. And then, when I couldn't stand the thirst any longer, she'd feed Zoë to me."

It took a second for the words to sink in, heavy and bitter, and then she focused on tamping down any reaction, biting back the instinctive denial that rose to her lips. She couldn't afford to indulge it, not when he was watching her as closely as he was, waiting for her to fall apart. To give him the confirmation he expected - that he wasn't worth fighting for. His steady, half-expectant gaze scared her more than the words themselves, like he was hanging by a thread and just waiting for - wanting - her to cut it.

She took a deep breath and nodded, keeping it brisk and business-like, burying the screaming so deep that not even King would be able to hear it.

"And I'd have done it, too. There's no point in pretending otherwise. What was it Drake told Blade? 'Sooner or later, the thirst always wins'? Well, the fucker had a point."

"King..."

"Don't." His smile, broken as it was, managed to take the sting out of the word. "You promised me that you wouldn't let me hurt anyone, and by anyone I mean you and Zoë. The rest of the world can go fuck itself." He paused for a moment, his eyes crinkling as he thought. "Okay, maybe I'd pass on Caulder. Maybe. I mean, Marta I'd definitely pass on. She makes a mean chicken soup that's - pardon the pun - to die for, but Caulder's kind of on my shit list at the moment, for obvious reasons."

She dredged up a smile from somewhere, even though she wasn't feeling it. "I notice you don't include Sullivan in that little list of exemptions."

"Yeah, well, he's kind of an ass. Just in case you hadn't noticed."

"I'd noticed," she said, and he nodded slightly, giving her another of those half-smiles even as his fingers tapped against his waist, the jerky rhythm giving him away.

"And what about you?" he asked suddenly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm..." How the hell was she supposed to tell him and not make it worse for him? How the hell was she going to lie? "I've been better," she admitted, because King must have figured that much out. It wasn't exactly rocket science. "The whole situation... well, I've heard it described as sucking donkey balls. Gotta say, I can't really argue with that."

"Yeah," he said. "I've heard the same thing." His smile this time was more genuine, more like King, and a pang went through her. There was no way she could find anything to say that would make this whole fucked up situation bearable.

When it came down to it, she'd always been better with actions.

She started to unlace her boots, which took longer than she would have liked. Her fingers were still shaking and the fact that he was watching her silently, a slight frown creasing his face as though he was trying to figure out what she was up to, simply made it worse. Eventually she managed to toe them off, and settled on the bed beside him. He hesitated for a moment before shifting sideways, moving towards the wall and giving her room to lie down.

She slid her hand across his waist, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder, and his arm came around her automatically, pulling her closer. He smelled of antiseptic and the faint, lingering odour of fever sweat, and his skin was still a little too warm to the touch, but he was breathing and his heart was still beating. She burrowed in, closing her eyes and holding on until his other arm came to wrap around her too, tightening imperceptibly when she twisted her fingers into the fabric of his T-shirt.

"What happens now?" she asked softly. She hadn't been able to follow all of Caulder's monologue as he'd explained - all she'd been able to focus on was the howl of denial echoing around and around inside her brain, blocking everything else out. Shock, she supposed, as if she had the right to be shocked when King was the one going through it. "When does...?"

She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence and it didn't help when he didn't answer her immediately. Maybe her question hadn't been clear, and she was running through it in her mind, looking for a better way to phrase it, a way she could live with, when he finally said, quietly and subdued, "Caulder's going to stop administering the antivirus tomorrow. I think that's what he said. I kind of..."

"Tuned him out?" she suggested when he didn't seem able to finish his sentence either.

"I'd argue with that but... yeah. Sounds about right. So, I don't know whether he's just going to stop and make me go cold-turkey or whether he has to wean me off gradually. You know, like a twelve step programme or something. A 'hello, my name is Hannibal King and I used to be a vamp' kind of deal."

She nodded, the move rubbing her cheek against his chest. It was oddly comforting, feeling his heart beating underneath her, the sound of it strong and steady.

Only it hadn't turned out to be strong enough.

That wasn't fair and she knew it, just like she knew that Caulder wouldn't be stopping the antivirus without really good reason. But life, as she'd known from a very young age, was about as far from fair as it was possible to get, and this whole situation really wasn't fucking fair. It just wasn't.

"I'm scared," he said suddenly. His voice was tight and tense, startling her for a moment before his words sank in. Something inside her broke, shattering into a thousand pieces all of them cutting into her. She tried to sit up and look at him, but his arms tightened around her, holding her against his chest as his breath caught in his throat.

She stopped fighting him, trying to be whatever the hell he needed and taking her cue from him. Her heart was racing, matching his, and all she could do was cling to him, holding him as tightly as she could because she couldn't let go if she tried.

She wasn't going to try.

"I know," she whispered, her heart breaking for him all over again. She didn't need to see his face to get how scared he was - it sang out in the timbre of his voice, the way stress made it crack and break, and the subtle trembling of his body where it pressed up against hers. "It's..."

She was going to say 'it's okay' but she couldn't lie to him, not about this.

"I'm scared, too," she admitted instead, her voice cracking like his had. She had no right to be scared, not when he was the one going through this and not her, but she couldn't let go of it, not when the fear had wrapped itself around the very centre of her. "But I'm not losing you, okay? I'm just not."

He nodded, his breath catching again, a little click in his throat and a ragged exhale. She closed her eyes, pressing herself even more tightly against him and able to feel his pain all too clearly, too clearly for comfort. He buried his face in her hair, his breath wet and warm against her scalp.

She held him while he shook. He never made a sound, nothing outside of the occasional hitching of his breath and the soft rhythmic beating of his heart.

Her face was wet against his shirt when his shoulders finally eased, but he didn't call her on it, avoiding his normal cheap jokes and saying nothing to ease the tension. But then the tension had already eased, washed out of her by her tears, and by his. She felt empty, hollow with exhaustion, but that still seemed more bearable than the weight of everything she'd been carrying for days now.

It wouldn't last. She wasn't quite stupid enough to believe that it would even if she had been capable of lying to herself.

"Thanks." His voice was hoarse, but stronger than it had been, not as bright and brittle, but more real somehow in spite of its roughness. "See, I told you I was the emotional sidekick."

She smiled, just a small one but it still felt like a victory. "You also told me you were the cute one."

"Are you disagreeing?"

"No. You feeling better?" she added softly, and he nodded, his cheek brushing against her hair. She hesitated, the inevitable words forcing themselves to the surface to come out in a comforting lie or two. "It's going to be okay, you know. Caulder's going to find the cure and... it's... it's going to be okay."

He nodded again, but she didn't think he believed her. She couldn't fault him for that - she didn't believe it herself.

-o-

Once King had finally fallen asleep again, she'd eased herself away from the warmth of his body before she could fall asleep next to him, remembering her promise to Sullivan as well as her promise to King.

She couldn't sleep, not knowing what was coming, and she was left pacing the floor, counting the steps in her head because at least that drowned out some of the screaming. She only stopped when she realised even that reminded her of King. She couldn't stop picturing his face, the expression on it when they'd been trapped in the basement together, the hunger and the fear.

She'd put Zoë to bed hours before, reading her a bedtime story the way she'd been neglecting to do recently, and that was just another lump of guilt to swallow down until it lay, like lead, in her belly. And now it was just her and too much information about an enemy they were never going to be able to fucking defeat.

If she hadn't cried herself out by now, she'd have sunk down at the table and buried her face against the rough, wooden surface in despair. As it was, all she had to cling to was her anger and she wasn't letting it go any time soon.

She couldn't. She was pissed at Sullivan, pissed at Caulder, pissed at the world. Sooner or later something had to give, and Abby was beginning to think that it was going to be her.

The words were blurring in front of her, any patterns she might have found hidden by the sheer weight the data. She needed Hedges, but Hedges was dead and gone, like Dex was dead and gone, like Sommerfield, her father, Henderson, Carruthers. Now it was just her and King left, and she was losing him, too.

She swept her hands through the useless pieces of paper littering the table top, sending them spiralling up into the air. It didn't help - the anger still pulsed through her, a snarling beast that she couldn't keep fed.

She supposed that she had that much in common with vampires, at least.

She'd still have that much in common with King.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?"

Sullivan had somehow managed to sneak up on her, although given the way she'd been silently raging she suspected that it hadn't required much stealth. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame as if he didn't have a care in the world, eyeing the scattered remnants of her temper tantrum with a raised eyebrow and a sardonic twist to his mouth.

"Did you want something?"

Her voice was ice, savage and unyielding, and his eyebrow went up a notch, but he didn't call her on it. He had that much sense, at least, even if he didn't have enough sense to keep his distance. He pushed himself away from the doorframe and sauntered into the room, his hands pushed casually into his pockets and his shoulders slumped.

But she wasn't fooled - she hadn't missed the quick, furtive glance he sent towards the infirmary or the wariness in his eyes when he looked back at her.

"You've heard," she said flatly. It was the only explanation for him seeking her out now.

He nodded slowly, gauging her reaction. She didn't know if he'd found what he expected or not and she didn't care either. She wasn't even sure whether she should be expecting sympathy from him or not, but it still surprised her when the next words out of his mouth were: "That's not why I wanted to talk to you."

She mimicked his eyebrow raising, too pissed and heartsick to give any ground, and his jaw tensed for a moment before he let it go. It washed over him the way it wasn't washing over Abby, not when it had dug its claws in deep and was ripping her apart. His eyes took in the devastation, the scattered remnants of her research, and when he finally looked back at her his expression was considering.

"You find anything?" he asked neutrally and her jaw tensed, too wound up to take it as anything other than criticism, even if that wasn't the way he'd intended it.

It probably wasn't, to be fair to the man, but then hadn't she just been thinking how fucking unfair life was?

"Lots of death, lots of property damage, lots of bad shit going down." Even she couldn't miss the fact that her phrasing sounded a lot like King's. She curled and uncurled her fingers, consciously trying to calm herself. "How do you tell vampires killing from people just killing each other?"

Sullivan shrugged, his eyes never leaving her face. "When the people who are dead are missing a hell of a lot of blood," he said, but for once he didn't sound sarcastic about it. He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I've got some potential leads, if you're interested."

She stared at him, wondering about his motives, why he was bringing it up now. He was still waiting for an answer and in the end she offered a tentative and noncommittal, "Okay?"

He nodded thoughtfully to himself - or at least, it seemed aimed more at himself than at her. "It's out of state," he said, and she could tell from his expression now that he knew she wasn't going to be happy about it.

"You expect me to leave King now?"

"I expect you to do your job, Whistler." His tone was uncompromising but the look in his eyes softened slightly as he added, "What else are you going to do? Sit around and watch him turn again? Do you really think he'll thank you for it?"

The observation silenced her, hitting home as hard as Sullivan had probably intended. There was no answer to his question and Sullivan seemed to realise that, pressing his advantage.

"Ask him," he said. "I think we both know the answer. And, yes, what's happening to King is a goddamned tragedy, but it's not the only one. People are still dying out there, Whistler. Sometimes our people." He stepped back, moving out of her personal space and shrugging his shoulders tiredly, looking suddenly exhausted. "A lot of times not, but innocent civilians are supposed to be the reason we doing this, aren't they? The ones we're supposed to protect?"

That was the official version, but she knew better and Sullivan must have known that. Her father had fought to avenge his first family, the family he'd actually cared about. Sommerfield fought for her dead husband, Hedges for his brother, Dex his partner. And Sullivan himself was doing this for his wife. The same story, just different endings.

Her story was different, and so was King's. But in the end it didn't look like they were going to be different enough.

"Talk to King," Sullivan repeated, studying her closely as he said it, no doubt able to tell that she was wavering. "He'll tell you the same thing I am - you're needed out there, Whistler. More than you're needed here right now, no matter what you think."