Notes: Sorry that this is sort short and slightly jerky. I got stuck on the other part and this was the only way that I could get past that. I probably won't use this pov again. Sorry if y'all hate this. I'm thinking that there're about 2 more pov's coming. Though they will mirror each other and seem redundant they aren't. BTW I know that this part is not very good and flaming me will only result in me doing a bunch of ranting and raving, so please don't bother because I don't have time for it!

Little Wing

The warm smell of turnkey and gravy filled my nose as I entered the room. It took me back to last Thanksgiving when Gabe and Judson started a small food fight with the mashed potatoes. The memory brings a small fond smile to my lips as I push farther into the somewhat private room of Gabriel Patterson. What the hell. I nearly say loud and sharp the moment that I spot the slices of turkey smothered in light brown gravy covering the floor at the foot of his bed. Near the windows I hear a small gasp. Why is it so dark in here? I quickly move toward the soft noise.

"Gabe?" I say coming closer to him. Through the dim light of the room I can see that he's leaning against the wall, barely keeping himself up.

My heart sitting tight in my throat, I nearly cry when he turns his agonized brown eyes to me. I can see the clear struggle for him to find the one word that would make him feel safe and warm. Putting the burden onto my shoulders; a burden that I would gladly take if it would put the sparkle of life that used to dance in his eyes like a fairy celebrating the coming of spring. "Help," he was barely able to force past his pale dry lips.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sliding my arms around his shoulders and easing him back to bed. "You don't look good at all."

"I'm hungry."

"And what was that," I gestured toward the food scattered over the beige and white tiles of the hospital floors, "dog food?"

"I don't want that."

"What do you want, I'll go get it." I can feel the pain he's in, as it leaves his body in title force. I can see it on his face that he truly wants something to eat, but that the food he'd thrown to the floor was not on his menu. What in the hell happened last night?!

"I don't know what I want, Mac," he scoffs at me. "I just know that food is not it."

"Didn't you just say . . .what happened last night?" I stare hard into the big brown pools trying to read what's going on in his head, looking for answers to my questions. I can't believe that Gabe was put into the hospital by a mugger and Judson had no clear answers for me. Men, I angrily say to myself. "All I can get out of Judson is that you were attacked by a mugger."

"I wish," he breaths, as if saying the words would rid him of whatever it was that happened to him. "John Blood came looking for Judson last night. When Judson refused, again, to join him and become whatever he is; the Captain bit me."

"Whoa, wait a minute!" What?! Did I just hear that correctly. Captain John Blood was dead. He had to be, he lived over a century ago! "He what?"

"Bit me. Look." he pulled the bandages from the side of his neck to reveal two small puncture wounds and one large bruise.

"Knock, knock," a cheery voice from the hall calls into the room. Soon the face and body attached to the too cheery voice comes into our view. She's a petite red head with slightly pale skin. "Mr. Patterson, my name's Aimee, and I'm here to give you your release papers."

"What about the anemia?" I hear him ask through the fog of shock that he shoved me into with the news what happened the night before.

"He said that it's not that serious, and wrote you a prescription for iron pills, and scheduled you for an iron test at the end of the week." She handed Gabe the papers and quietly left the room.

"You have to help me find him," Gabe's soft demand yanked me from the dense fog.

"How?" How do you find a dead man? If that man wasn't dead before he did this, he will be when I get through with him.

"I can sense where he is."

"Where is he then?" I can hear the disbelief oozing from every syllable that came from my mouth.

"Very close. He wants one of us."

"One of you?" I can't help but feel a little lost at his words.

"He wants Judson to join him, but if he can't get Judson he's content with me. We have to stop him."

"Well, then," I say without even really knowing what I'm agreeing to, "we'd better get started.

The cool evening air rushes over the skin of my arms as Gabe and make our way, him leaning against me for support, down the street. I don't know where he's leading us, but I can tell that it's somewhere near the docks. The fresh salt water and seagulls tell me that much.

"He's very close by," Gabe mutters as we close in on the marina.

"Gabe," I say stopping the furious pace that he set. "I can't believe that this is real. This is too much." I've never been a firm believer in the supernatural or the occult. It was never my job. Cold hard facts was my job. Knowing when to break out the guns or knives or bare fists was what I was trained for. I knew that world not the fantasy world that Judson and Gabe loved. Granted, Judson wasn't some eager beaver when it came to things outside the realm of normality.

"I need you."

Nodding an okay we start back with the pace that we had before.

Like a madman searching for lost treasure Gabe stopped us just outside warehouse.

"He's in there."