He couldn't see.
He remembered the knife going in. Remembered the searing of the metal cutting through flesh. He remembered the sensation of dying. Quickly he sat up at the thought and immediately reached for his torso.
Nothing there. Not a scar; not even a scratch on the surface of his skin.
Feeling around he could tell he was on a narrow bed. It was pushed against a wall; probably slid into a corner as his fingertips confirmed it for him. A soft sheet and blanket were pulled up to his waist, tucked neatly around his hips. He could feel a windowsill to his right, and the faint warmth of the light filtering in around the thick curtain covering the glass. It was cold out.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
The sound of his own voice surprised him as it echoed through the room. The faint sound of footsteps seemed to come from a long hallway just ahead. He blinked furiously several times, trying to clear his vision. He still couldn't see. The steps came closer. It was a woman. He could smell her as she got closer. Faint roses, spice...softness.
"You're awake," she said, her voice slightly raspy. He couldn't tell if she was dehydrated or had been crying. "Welcome back."
The edge of the mattress slumped a little as she sat down upon it. He could feel warmth from her then. Human. Vampires weren't frozen by any means, but they didn't put off this kind of heat.
"I'm sorry," he managed to say. "I can't...I can't see you. I can't see anything."
"I see," she began with irony. "You need to feed. I'll be right back."
The weight lifted as she stood up and left the room. A short time later he was given a pouch with a small straw protruding from the end.
"Drink," she whispered.
The salty, thick iron taste of the liquid soothed his parched mouth and he instantly began to feel better. He could hear the beat of her human heart, a little faster now as she cautiously sat down beside him again. He didn't expect that, and continued to sip until it was gone. Reaching out he caught her wrist, feeling the faint but steady pulse there now. She pulled away from him very slowly.
"I...I need to go check on something."
Like that she was out of the room, but the smell of her lingered and it made him hungry again.
"How long?" he asked the next time she entered the room.
He still couldn't see her, but light had returned to the edges of his sight. He sipped from the new bag of blood she had supplied him with, waiting very patiently for her answer.
"41 days," she replied quietly. This time she had chosen to sit in a chair away from him. He'd heard the scrape of its legs across the floor and the tap the back of it made as it hit the wall.
He nodded thoughtfully.
"A lot can happen in 41 days," he said. "I still can't see you."
He heard the faint shift of her legs as she adjusted in her seat.
"Are you afraid of me, Mia?" he asked softly.
She smiled then. He could feel it across the room.
"Afraid of you? Not exactly. You know full well I've never been afraid to die. More of I'm afraid of what you will do. After all, I did kill you, Dmitry."
He could feel the warmth spreading through his veins from the next bag. He chuckled wryly.
"But alas, here we are, Mia. How? How did you bring me back? Moreover, why? You and Numel could have had a happy life together."
Mia rubbed her hands along the lengths of her thighs, the sweat from her palms making dark patches upon the surface of her black jeans.
"Why is a little simpler than how, Dmitry. Because you were right. Because I DO love you. Goran I loved. Numel, I did not. And because of Karmen."
Dmitry could feel the confused expression he began to wear as his eyebrows knit together. Such hatred in Mia's voice as she said the other woman's name.
"Karmen? What does she have to do with all of this?"
The singular ball of hate began to burn in the middle of her throat as she tried to push it down; push it down deep where she could focus again.
"Because she knew, Dmitry. She wanted the both of you gone. You for your ambition, and Numel for his betrayal. She always knew you didn't turn me, but she let me believe it, anyway. I took a chance and I brought you back. But at a cost..."
He understood. She was human again. It explained the sound of her heart, suddenly beating like the flapping of hummingbird wings as her anger festered. It explained the heat he could feel radiating off her from across the room.
"You're human again," he said very softly. "And for that you're afraid."
"No," she said, an edge of frustration to her words. "I had to use the dagger. Before the sun rose, I had to find and use the dagger!"
Slowly she rose and made her way toward him, kneeling and placing her head on his lap.
"I'm not afraid of being human, Dmitry. I'm not afraid of you drinking from me. I'm not afraid of you turning me. In fact, one day we'll need it. "
She was acutely aware of her cheek upon his thigh, and the feeling of his fingers stroking her hair as she stayed there. After a few quiet moments she rose to sit beside him.
"No. I'm not afraid of that. I want you to. You need to heal, fully. Blood bags aren't going to cut it. You need a host. A full, healthy host, and I'm not ready for anyone else to know you're alive. I need to be human again, for just a little while longer. At least until..."
She watched as he nodded in silent understanding. Leaning into him, Mia exposed her carotid to him.
"Drink, Dmitry. But not too much. We're not out of the woods yet."
To any of you who have managed to find my little ditty, thanks! I wasn't happy, as you can see, with the ending of this little show. So maybe I'll do it a little justice. Maybe I won't. Join me for the ride.