I wanted to take the time to thank everyone who's reviewed so far! I really appreciate the feedback ^.^ I didn't finish this chapter as quickly as I had hoped, but oh well. :P Hopefully chapter eight will be faster, right? ;)

"Who is that?" Sam asked when Marko had completely disappeared. He had a feeling the curly-haired boy could hear everything that was being said (how else had he known to make food when Max had never lifted his voice above a relaxed volume?), and Sam was aware that if they classified that question as being too "nosy," they could respond unpredictably. And there was an unspoken question that hung in the air—something Sam was almost too afraid to ask. He needed to build up his courage to face it, and until then, he would work his way up with smaller-scaled questions. Sam needed to gauge Max's reaction to things the older man might consider probing. He had been gracious so far, but Sam felt anything but warm around him.

"Marko?" Max asked, surprised Sam was inquiring such a thing. "He's with me." As if that was everything Sam needed to know about him.

"With you?"

"Yes. Would you like something to drink?" Sam was missing out on some kind of lingo here, he knew it. If he was going out on a limb here and assuming they were vampires like the man that attacked him and Michael, then was that some kind of undead slang? "With me" could mean so many things, and Sam's mind wandered on that subject.

"No…" he answered cautiously, afraid of what he would be given if he said yes.

"Are you sure you don't want water? You look parched."

How could Max see that Sam was thirsty? He had gotten a glimpse of himself in that mirror upstairs, and while he looked like he'd been through quite a bit of action—what with the blood-stained shirt and all—he hadn't thought he looked…bad.

"I'm fine," he insisted, uncomfortable enough with the fact they were trying to feed him. Speaking of which. "Why are you making me food, anyways? Shouldn't you be locking me up in the basement so I don't spill anything I shouldn't to the outside world?"

Max chuckled and his eyes dropped to the tablecloth for a brief second. Sam was unnerved by the fact that Max hardly moved ever. He didn't fidget, either, or barely move a muscle. He was completely still, yet he seemed at ease at the same time. It was…odd, to the say the least. "I have no desire to do that, Sam. I'm confident you won't become a liability when you leave. Not when your brother's safety relies on your silence."

Everything stopped. He swore that even his heartbeat stilled for a fraction of a second. Max watched Sam with a small smile on his face—the same friendly front he'd been putting up the whole time. "What?"

"Actually, the safety of all of us depends on you keeping our secret, but that includes Michael now, as well."

"What secret?" he asked slowly.

"Our nature," Max explained thoughtfully. "In a way, we're the same as the man that attacked and bit you. We're vampires." His grin never faltered, and Sam grimaced.

"Michael…"

"Is one of us now. It isn't as bad as you might think, Sam. We can go over what it entitles later, before you go to see your brother. I wouldn't worry a second about it, if I were you."

"But when Michael and I leave…he'll still be okay…right?"

Max sighed. "Michael will be staying here. You're free to leave when you wish, but he won't be going with you."

Something snapped inside of Sam, and he stood abruptly. "I'd like to see you try to make him stay," he challenged.

"Sam…" Max began calmly, but Sam cut him off.

"You can't keep him here as your…your prisoner!"

"It's for the better."

"According to you! He's not staying!" He was growing frantic at the thought of having to live without Michael—not because he was dead, but because he was being kept against his will by vampires for all of eternity.

Marko stood in the doorway with a plate of hot food that, under normal circumstances, Sam would have probably salivated at the sight of. He turned his back to both of them and stalked out of the dining room, through his anger barely catching Marko's enraged, "Are you kidding me?"

Sam's first thought was to walk right out the front door—which he was allowed to do. Max had made that clear. But he still had no idea where Michael was being kept; staying was his only way of discovering that location. Once he knew it, he would work on how to get both of them out of this situation.

He yanked open the first door he came across, down a secluded hall that he may or may not have been in already; he couldn't really remember. The layout of the house was disorienting. Sam planned on locking himself in it, until he calmed himself and thought of what he was going to do next. He slammed the door and gripped his hair tightly with his fists, pacing the room. It took a good five seconds for him to notice the still-sleeping blond in the corner, completely unstirred by anything that had happened so far.

Damn. He's really out cold, isn't he?

The sun was completely unsheathed outside, now, and the only thing keeping the room from flooding with light was a very thick curtain over a small window. It was placed in a way that, if the curtain was pulled back, the sleeping vampire would be in the direct path of sunlight.

Sam swallowed, approaching the window tentatively. He glanced back at the vampire, half expecting the man to sense what Sam was considering and snap awake. But he never moved a muscle.

Should he really do this? There were two other vampires in the house (that he knew of), and if they were stronger than he had anticipated, this move could be very, very bad. Then again, vampires were supposed to die in the sunlight, right? If Sam stayed under its cover, they couldn't touch him. Until night fell. But he could sneak out the window before then. But then that would make the Michael situation more complicated. But…

Oh, damn. He really shouldn't.

Sam sighed and lowered his hand from where it had rested on the leather.

"What are you doing?"

His stomach dropped to the floor and he jumped back several feet.

Marko was standing in the doorway (when the hell did the door open?), arms crossed over his chest and looking very pissed. Sam spluttered for some kind of explanation. He knew. Marko knew what he had been thinking for those brief seconds. Fuck. He was dead. He was so dead.

"I…I was…I didn't…" Marko still waited for something, probably wondering what kind of stupid excuse Sam would conjure up.

When it was obvious the blonde was too scared to come up with anything, the vampire cut off the boy's stuttering. "You know, we have something in common, Sam."

"What…what's that?" He was surprised Marko was talking to him at all; he had expected the vampire to kill him instantly.

Marko took one step closer to Sam, who in turn took three steps back. "You care about Michael, right? And I'm sure you'd be devastated, if something were to happen to him." He spoke slowly, deliberately, like he wanted Sam to pay very close attention to what he had to say. "So why don't you stay focused on yourself…leave the ones I care about alone…and everything will be fine." Sam's throat went dry, like he had swallowed a bag of sand. He couldn't speak, only nodded. Marko's smile was sickly sweet. "Good. Now get out of my room."

Sam hesitated, his heart leaping to his throat at the prospect of having to walk so closely to Marko. The curly-haired vampire watched him go, and they never took their eyes off each other. He didn't move, otherwise, which Sam was thankful for; he was sure that if Marko had moved a single muscle, Sam would have died of fright. He never thought it was possible to be so scared of a single person—let alone someone who hadn't even done anything to him. But this menacing fucker just proved Sam wrong.

He ended up locking himself in the bathroom, hoping that if someone wanted to get in, the bathtub would protect him. He didn't know how long he sat there, curled up in the claw-footed, porcelain tub. At some point he must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to the sight of perfectly clean whiteness. He was rolled onto his side and shrunken down into the tub, so he slowly sat upright.

He felt a sharp pain in his head—an inevitable migraine. Absently, he wondered how long he had been out. A brief few minutes? Couple hours? He still felt exhausted from last night, so he wouldn't be surprised if it was now the evening. Sam was too tired to climb out of the tub when there was no reason to; he didn't even attempt it. He just lay back down and closed his eyes.

The tall blonde stood outside the bathroom door, ready to rap on the wood with his knuckles. Sam could see him, from an odd angle in the hallway—almost as if he was standing there himself. Somehow, he also knew exactly where this was taking place, and that the door the blonde stood in front of was the door Sam was technically behind. It was clear, minus a few tiny details, just like his vision in the classroom.

The hell? What was up with the confusing visions?

From the other end of the hall, Sam heard, "Let him be." His angle of perception changed and he was looking down the hall at Marko, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Not irritated—just…purposeful. Cocky, even. Ugh, Sam hated cocky people. "He can't be walking around the house when Michael gets here."

"Oh yeah—him. How was he when he woke up?"

Michael? Why were they talking about Michael? Was he here? Even though Sam wasn't physically experiencing this, he still had reactions to everything being said, just like if he was standing in the hall between the two blondes—and his heart leapt out of his chest at the prospect of Michael being near.

"Bad enough that Star took Laddie somewhere else."

The taller of the two grimaced. "What's Max gonna do with him?"

Marko actually paused, much to Sam's surprise; he was going to think over his answer for a second.

He's hesitating.

The fuck? Okay, Sam didn't know Marko—at all. But it still surprised him to see a person who seemed so confident respond tentatively to someone he was obviously comfortable around.

"I don't know."

Fuck! I gotta wake up and do something!

Sam tried pulling himself out of the vision, afraid that this was happening right now and he needed to react as soon as possible. But he was glued to the spot, just like he had been in that classroom.

Wait, his subconscious told him.

"Well, we tried." The taller blonde sighed, stepping away from the door. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and eyed Marko. "He could still pull through, though. He wouldn't be the first to go bat shit crazy at first."

Marko was agitated. Not ticked—just ticking. He was bothered by something.

By Michael?

Again. The hell was going on?

Wake up, goddammit!

"Maybe I gave him too much."

"You didn't. It can't be that." His smiled warmly. "You still rock, Marko."

The teeniest little smile formed on the curly-haired boy's face in return. "Thanks, Paul."

A loud bang! followed by someone shouting Max's name interrupted…whatever was going on here. The very second that loud noise sounded, Sam snapped out of his vision. He was still laying in the tub, and from the other side of his door he could hear the shouting still. It was happening right now. He had seen it as it was happening. Like an out-of-body experience.

Ugh. Just… He wasn't going to focus on that right now. At the moment, his mind zeroed out on one thing.

He bolted out of the tub and unlocked the door with such frenzy his hands fumbled on the handle when he opened it. Sam was running down the hall then, where the noises were coming from, only one name floating through his mind.

Michael.