"Do you think he'll be okay though?"

"Well, he's still breathing. He'll recover."

"And supposin' he attacks when he wakes up?"

"Don't be ridiculous Jack. Michael would never do such a thing."

Morbius heard the two familiar voices tug at his consciousness through a layer of fog and confusion. He tried hard to place them from his memory, but even with the mental distraction at that moment his body convulsed involuntarily as he retched up water from deep inside that covered his chest in a disgusting wave. Oh god, river water, that's right.

Despite the fatigue he narrowly was able to open one eye to glimpse his surrounding and there before him an intense golden light surrounding what he believed to be an angel.

"Michael? Oh Michael! You are okay!" The radiant figure leaned over his prone frame and encircled him in it's warm arms.

"Am... Am ..I dead..? He managed to squeeze out the words between hacks of more fluids.

"Michael, it's me it's Martine!" She snuggled his chin with her nose and planted a kiss on his cheek despite the smell and bile that covered him.

Recognition flooded him with relief and he wrapped her in his arms so firmly that he soon loosened his grip fearing he'd hurt her. "Oh god. Martine. You're safe, I was so worried."

"I'm safe?! Michael you almost died!"

"What happened?"

"Well I was out walking and I heard a man, I don't know who but from a block away I heard him shout your name." Morbius nodded knowing that it was Spider-man's final yell that she had heard. "And I ran and I ran and I looked all over the river where the yell came from Michael, and like a damned miracle you washed up on the shore."

She finally broke the hug they had both been holding onto and stood straight no longer blocking the light from his eyes. He shielded it with his hand instinctively and bared his teeth.

"Sorry about that bud, here I'll dim the lights." The ambiance of the room shifted suddenly becoming much easier for his eyes to handle.

"Jack?"

"Yep, it's me. Martine called me when she found you. She couldn't move you by herself." He stepped over to where Morbius could finally view him looking like his usual self, arms folded in defiance.

"Wait, where are we?" He gathered the courage to attempt to sit up but failed, only budging slightly and rolling to one side. He could tell that he was on top of a cot raised up off of the floor.

Martine answered. "We're at a hotel room, Jack put it under his name and he's not part of the investigation so we should be safe here."

Michael finally used his arms to pry his chest off of the cot and sit up slowly, flipping his legs in front of him and letting them dangle towards the floor. He looked Martine over and she was nothing like he remembered. She was plainly dressed in teal, her outfit filthy with water and river mud, her face red and splotchy, she had been crying. He just silently stared and evaluated as she moved closer to grasp his head in her hands but when she touched him he turned his chin away. "Martine don't look at me. I'm.. I'm not the same."

She refused to listen and instead grabbed his head forcefully tilting it back towards her, he closed his eyes as she felt his now pointed ears and how his eyes had widened, worst she took her fingers and pried open his lips glimpsing the set of ivory colored fangs that had replaced his old canine teeth. She gasped and he forced his mouth shut and turned away again. "I warned you."

At that she took a step back bringing her hand full force flat across his left cheek with a loud smack. It stung badly, even worse coming from her. Michael froze turned away staying his reaction but Jack flinched at the motion. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare tell me not to look Michael after all the lying and ..and.. and Michael you were DYING and you didn't tell me!" Her tears betrayed her demeanor and they rolled across her face in a gush.

He couldn't stand it. He did this. Not Emil, not fate, not Spider-man, he was to blame and there was nothing he could do to fix it. "Martine I.." but instead of finishing he simply gathered her into his arms again and held her while she sobbed. She was warm and comforting and she smelled so nice that Michael fought a strong impulse to sniff her and lost. the smell was attractive and sweet, it lingered around his thoughts like cord suddenly pulled taut... Oh no. He felt the fangs extend and fought them, his body becoming rigid with the effort as his vision slid into darker shades of red. No. Not her. Not Martine!

"Michael I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Her voice broke him like a pick shattering a pillar of ice into a million pieces. He felt his control returning.

"Martine you aren't safe here."

"Michael we're fine. The police don't know.."

"It's not the police I'm worried about Martine... it's me."

She backed away a bit and Jack stepped forward reaching into his hip pocket and showing Morbius the muzzle of the gun he had stowed there. He tilted his head and Michael nodded in agreement. "Jack promise me you'll use it on me if you two are in danger."

"You know I will."

"Good." He hopped down off of the cot to the worn down red carpet resting on the balls of his feet at first and taking time to stretch, every part of him seemed sore. Martine gave him another look over and retrieved a polished steel suitcase from the top of the hotel bed. She clicked the locks and handed him two long metal cylinders. It was blood.

"Martine.. how did you?" He unscrewed the lid looked down into the shadowy contents of the container, his fangs extended again.

"Don't ask, just drink it."

He tilted the cold steel to his lips and gulped down a half-liter of fluid. It was room temperature and starting to clot, that was good as anticoagulants would probably kill him. Compared to fresh blood it was sour and a tad bitter but he drained the first.

He had a harder time with the second cylinder, it wasn't bad but his body retched forcing him to spit half a mouthful down his chest. He tried to compose himself but a coughing fit came on and it took a minute to shake off. Martine stepped over and rubbed his back to soothe him, "Are you okay? does it work?"

"No, it's okay. My body feels better but my mind is still clouded with thirst. Please give me a moment my love." He threw the rest down his throat in a torrent and chugged it, setting the empty container down on the cot when he had finished. His eyes glowed red and his pupils shrunk in size. Martine and Jack backed away and Jack put his hand conspicuously inside his pocket but after a moment Michael's features reverted to their former state.

Martine stepped cautiously forward and caressed his face as he nuzzled her hand affectionately. "You need a shower, I brought you clean clothes. Anything else you need we'll find a way to talk together. The police are monitoring the apartment they think you'll come back there."

"What do they know?"

"Everything. They even have photos of you from the Delphinus, the fishing boat you attacked after Emil on the yacht." He eyed her quizzically but she remained calm. "You left a bloody handprint on the door of the cabin..."

"I'm sorry.. I was tempted to go to you but I decided death would be better than risk it. I'm a weak creature Martine."

"Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael.. That is anything but weak and you're no creature."

His heavy eyelids drooped with fatigue as he nervously bit his lip. "You haven't seen what I've done. It's like another being takes over, I can't stop it."

She fished out of her pocket two keys on a simple ring and three letters in torn and ragged envelopes. "Here, take these with you when you travel."

The envelopes held correspondence with contacts of his in the science community. He flipped through them confused. "Martine.. why?"

"They're all researching conditions like yours Michael. This way you're free to find a cure for yourself."

"Martine I'm putting people at risk by simply existing! I need to turn myself in." he said the words but the ever-nagging logic center of his brain knew that it was impossible. He'd die of starvation in the cells or worse, go into the thirst's possession and not be able to return.

"Michael you're strong and a good man, I believe in you." He enjoyed another brief hug before she backed away. "Ugh, you do need that wash though!"

Jack reclined on the bed watching the old brick of a television while Morbius soaked in the hot bath water. Martine sat by the tub looking him over as he lathered and washed his skin. To her he looked different, not just the pale white skin tone but different all around. His hips seemed narrower, his muscles more built and tight, and his fingers seemed longer with the pointed claw tips. Morbius shrank under her gaze, he just wanted to be hers again, instead he knew that she hardly could recognize him the way he was now. "Martine I..."

"It's all right Michael, I have to leave soon just get clean. We can talk for now."

"I just wanted you to know, why I never told you about the disease." He gulped. "I wanted so badly to be your husband Martine, and then I was diagnosed and I knew I'd never even live that long.. I didn't want to disappoint you. You mean the world to me and I couldn't disappoint you." He finished talking and sat with his head in his hands sobbing followed by a few minutes of palpable silence.

"I know Michael. I know... here I got you something else." She shifted on the floor to reach into the hip pocket on her left side coming up with a tightly clasped fist. "Here, hold out your hand."

He took it gently from her the weight of the gold wedding band pressing into his palm like a burden. "Martine I.."

"It's okay Michael, you are my husband and everything will be okay."

He turned his face down, he couldn't look her in the eye. Not now. "How will I be able to reach you? Are you staying here?"

"No.. I have family in L.A., I'm going that way for a while as soon as I'm cleared to travel."

"Please stay safe."

"I will."

When he stood the filthy water sloshed around the tub and coiled over the drain looking for escape. The towels were damp but he dried off as best he could and took the sack of clothes she had brought. It contained standard slacks, a sweater, underwear, socks, shoes, and an overcoat, he recognized it all as his own and put it on under her watchful gaze. The fresh clothes helped him feel more like a man again and he thanked them both profusely for the gesture and their help before he set off on his way. He tucked the wedding band into his pocket but inside his suitcase he packed the soiled costume, just in case.