Stranger than Fiction

Chapter 13

Fangula awoke with a start, feeling the back of his neck beginning to burn. The sun was shining through the window, and he was directly in the path of its rays. While sunlight didn't bother most vampires like the stories said it did, it still caused a painful variety of sunburn that came quickly and left them strawberry-red. It was only dangerous if they had no way to escape it, and if they stayed in it for longer than an hour. He hissed, and clapped his hand to his neck before it occurred to him to put his hood up.

Jo still hadn't awakened. In the sunlight her bruises were much more livid, and the oxygen tube in her nose only enhanced her vulnerable appearance. He had seen the tube the night before, but his mind hadn't really registered it; come to think of it, his mind hadn't registered much at all. Her brother had been drunk, he knew that much; he had probably been drowning his sorrows over his sister's plight. Fangula couldn't blame him; in truth, he felt he could use a few cold ones, beer or plasma, himself. He touched Jo's cheek, no longer afraid of hurting her. She was vulnerable, yes, but she wouldn't break. "Jo?" he whispered, giving her cheek a gentle nudge.

He hadn't expected a response, and he didn't get one. He sighed, and kissed her forehead. She had made it through the night, and that gave him some hope.

The doorknob turned, and he flattened himself beside the bed and turned bat. From his position under the bed, he saw a pair of worn white sneakers as the nurse checked Jo's vitals. His stomach curled into a ball, and offered up a pleading growl as his senses sharpened to the faint scent of blood. He could see that the nurse had a paper cut on her right thumb, and he was reminded that the last thing he had had to eat was that steak from the night before. She left, and he crawled out after her at a surprising speed, almost getting caught in the door. I'll be back, Jo…

Fangula waited out of the view of the camera until he was alone, and changed back. Drawing his hood down as far as it would go, he began to make his way down the hall.

"Oh, sir, you can't be here right now," said one of the nurses on duty. "Visiting hours don't begin for half an hour yet."

He apologized, telling her that he had gotten lost looking for the cafeteria, and she swallowed his excuse and told him where to go. He quickly found out why she so readily believed him; there was a branch in the halls, one of which led to Jo's room, and the other of which to the cafeteria. He could easily have made that wrong turn on his own, so he had not aroused her suspicions after all.

Fangula saw Roland sitting at one of the tables, but the younger man was engrossed in a novel and a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. The vampire perused the meal choices, and selected a double order of sausage patties without the pancakes, a Mars Bar, and a glass of tomato juice. If he couldn't have blood, then he figured he might as wall have something that was roughly the same color…

He carried his tray over to Roland's table, and hesitantly cleared his throat. When Roland looked up, he asked, "Mind if I eat here?"

Roland smiled at him, and indicated the chair beside him. "It's a free country. I had a feeling you might still be here. How's life treatin' ya?"

"Interesting choice of words," Fangula quipped, sitting down, "What are you doing here?"

Roland held up his book and pointed to it, as if that explained everything. "I'm reading."

They stared each other down until Roland cracked a smile. Fangula shook his head, and tore at the end of the candy bar wrapper with his teeth. "I guess you're waiting for visiting hours to start." He decided aloud, setting his teeth into the treat.

"Yeah. You all right? You don't look so good."

Fangula shrugged as he chewed, and answered after he had swallowed. "I…guess so. And I guess she'll be all right, but…I should have gone after him, Roland!" he turned to the other man suddenly, dropping the candy bar onto the tray. "I should have done something."

"He would have killed you." Roland told him matter-of-factly.

"I don't care; he nearly killed her. I should have done something, I…" he shook his head and looked away, brooding. "I don't know…"

"Hey, come on." Roland put a hand on his shoulder, something he wouldn't have even considered doing five years ago. "It wouldn't have made any difference."

"It's because I love her, because I refused to break it off that he went after her." Fangula told him. He considered brushing Roland's hand off, but decided not to. Somehow it made him feel a little better.

"No," Roland said levelly, "he went after her because he's an asshole. You're not to blame for his attack, and there's nothing wrong with loving someone. And if you don't stop blaming yourself, you're gonna piss me off." He gave Fang's shoulder a little shake for emphasis before he let go, and the vampire snickered briefly. When had the two of them become friends?

"What're you reading?" he asked, starting in on his sausage.

"An old Stephen King book, 'Firestarter.' Ever read it?"

"I've read all his books. His mind's even dirtier than Shakespear's, but you'll never find a better author."

"I'm not so sure myself. This is the first one of his I've read, and I'm barely past the title page. Don't have much of an opinion yet. Oh, by the way, I talked to Flabber this morning."

Fangula frowned, remembering his treatment of the phasm the night before with a twinge of shame. "What did he say?"

"Not much, he just asked me to give you this to give to Jo, with strict orders that you don't look at it or touch it." He held up a longish velvet box.

"What is it?"

"A crucifix. For Jo, to keep her safe from Vlad. Just out of curiosity, what would happen if you did touch it?"

Fangula shuddered. "It would melt the flesh of my hands, and eventually the rest of me would follow. You won't find a more potent charm. Even looking at it hurts our eyes. Keep it away from me."

"Not to worry. She's supposed to wear it only when you're not around. She'll be safe from him."

After a moment, Fangula asked, "Flabber didn't say anything else, did he?"

"No…why?"

He shrugged, and shook his head. "I sort of snapped at him last night. I know I shouldn't have, and I didn't mean to, but…I don't know. I guess I owe him an apology."

"Guess so, but he seemed a lot better today. I don't think he'll be mad at you for long, if he ever was mad at you."

"He was more hurt than mad. I really should apologize."

"Well, don't talk about it, do it. But in the meantime, visiting hours are starting. Let's go see her."

* * *

A surprise awaited them when they arrived; Jo had opened her eyes. They were bloodshot, and her pain was evident, but she was awake. "Jo!" Fangula rushed to her side, and carefully brushed her bangs from her forehead.

"Fangula? Roland…what happened? It hurts…" she mumbled, then she squinted her eyes at Fangula. "Why're you crying?"

He sniffed, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I didn't even realize I was…You…Vlad attacked you. Do you remember anything?"

Her forehead creased, and she slowly shook her head from side to side. "All I know is something slammed into my head and knocked me off my 'cycle."

Roland placed the box containing the crucifix on the night stand, and pointed at the door. "I'll go call Drew and tell him you're awake."

Jo nodded, and Roland was gone. Fangula rubbed his eyes one more time, trying not to laugh. She was awake, and she was okay!

"Fang…" she gripped his hand urgently, and he grew suddenly concerned.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, just…just don't leave…me…" she closed her eyes and sighed, drifting off into a peaceful, healing sleep.

"Never, my love…" he whispered, smoothing her scraped hand with his thumb, "Never."

* * *

It was later that night, when it was just Jo and Fangula in the room, that Vlad the Impaler finally showed up to finish what he had started. Drew had already visited, as had Art Fortunes, and the room was filled with flowers; the people who brought them, however, had left hours ago, and the only hope for Jo lay in her fiancée. He froze under his superior's gaze, unable to move. Jo was asleep; she had no idea what sort of danger she was in.

"You had better leave, Count," Vlad purred, confident that Fangula would back down, "I have unfinished business with your little brood mare, here."

Fangula, however, did not back down. "What kind of a coward attacks a woman in the dark? Without even announcing himself? And then disappears so that he won't have to deal with anyone who might rescue her? I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman."

"You forget your true nature. We are vampires, Count! We live by such 'cowardice', if you want to call it that. I need not explain it to you. Now, I suggest that you stand aside and not anger me any further than you already have…"

Fangula did the only thing he could think of, and the last thing either of them expected. He put his hand on the box, and drew it towards him. Vlad started slowly forward, and Fangula opened the box and withdrew the crucifix, which was not yet attached to a chain. It all happened so quickly; Fangula held up the crucifix, his face twisted in anticipation of the pain that had yet to appear. Vlad shielded his eyes with a hiss and fled from the room, and Fangula noticed with a sort of detached wonder that the crucifix wasn't hurting him at all.

He gazed down at the tiny golden image of Christ, and even that didn't effect him adversely. In fact, it filled him with a curious sort of peace, and he could actually feel the protective, kinetic shell that had formed around them to shield them from evil. He would later learn that if a vampire were to use such an object with love, then he would no longer need to have fear of it. An object of good, used with love and goodwill, would reward the person who invoked it with immunity. Good rewarded by healing and protection, not harm. But of course, he knew nothing of this at the time. With a shaking hand, he picked up the phone and dialed Drew's number at the dorms. He didn't realize that he was still clutching the crucifix until the edges began to poke into his hand.

The line was ringing, and at the second ring Drew picked up. "Hello?"

Fang tried to speak but his mouth had gone dry.

"Hello? Are you there?"

Fangula cleared his throat, and finally succeeded in speaking. "Drew?" His voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Fangula? What's wrong?" a note of fear crept into Drew's voice, and Fangula dropped the crucifix onto the mattress and put his hand to his head.

"He was here. Vlad was here. She's okay, but…I touched it, I touched the cross, and…" he swallowed, "Oh, God…I…I feel sick…"

"I'll be right there!" Drew replied, and the line went dead.

Fangula rose to his feet, slowly made his way to the tiny cubicle of a bathroom, and vomited until he felt that he would soon see his shoes emerge from his mouth. Then, shaking in reaction to everything that had happened, he rested his cheek on the toilet seat and gave a quavering groan. He didn't know how long he had sat there before the stench of his own bile became apparent, and he flushed the toilet with a disgusted sneer. Then he stiffened. Jo!

He stumbled back to her bedside, but she was undisturbed. He sighed, and knelt down beside her. He hadn't had time to think when Vlad had appeared, but now that it was over he was afraid. God, he was so afraid! He had never done anything so brave, so stupid, and now he had to deal with it, to think about it. And he didn't want to. He just wanted to hold her and be held by her. How close he had just come to losing her, and to killing himself.

It wasn't long before Drew appeared in the doorway. Visiting hours were not yet over, so they were both 'legal' at that point. The first thing he said was, "You touched the cross?" Then he joined the vampire at Jo's bedside.

"She's okay." Fangula said again. "He never touched her."

Drew examined her briefly to make sure, then turned to Fangula. "Are you okay? That cross should have killed you."

Fangula didn't answer; he couldn't. He was trembling, and staring at Jo's placid face. Drew did something that would have been out of place otherwise; he took both of the vampire's hands in his own, and turned them so that the palms faced upward. There was not a mark to be seen. He let go, and Fangula let his hands drop to the bed.

"You saved my sister's life…" Drew said quietly.

Fangula didn't speak; he continued to tremble, his eyes so wide that the whites shone all around.

"Are you okay?" Drew asked again, and was answered with a sob as the vampire finally broke down. Drew put an arm around the man he had attacked a week before. His opinion of the vampire had risen considerably in the face of what he had done. Nothing more needed to be said; the full impact of what Fangula had just done had finally caught up with him, and all that remained was to weather the storm. It didn't take long.

"Forgive me," Fangula said when he had calmed down, "I didn't mean to do that."

"You kidding? I'd do it, and I'd probably puke, too." Drew replied.

"I did." Fangula shuddered again, and looked at his hands. It was still true; he was still whole.

"Oh…well, there's no shame in it." Drew said, and they sat in silence for a while.

"Why didn't it hurt me?" Fangula wondered aloud. "I don't get it."

Drew shrugged, and got to his feet. "Look, I'm gonna go get us something to drink…maybe I can convince them to let us stay the night with her."

Fangula nodded, and Drew left the room. He soon returned with two coffees, and the news that they would be allowed to stay, but that it had taken considerable nagging to get them to say yes. That it went against hospital policy, blah-blah-blah…Drew affected a lisping falsetto as he made fun of the head nurse, and put a little extra wiggle in his step as he imitated her walk, provoking a laugh from Fangula. He handed the vampire one of the coffees and sat down, saying, "God, it was just like pulling teeth."

Fangula winced; dental jokes always made him have sympathy pains…

Though it was hardly necessary, they kept guard through the night. They said very little, but in that time they became aware of the startling revelation that they had become friends. Maybe everything would work out after all.