An: Ok, so I previously mentioned that'd I update this story once a day, but last night was a no-go purely because it was Nevada Day and Chuck Day. That's a holiday for me, where I watch my favorite television show, then proceed to party for the entire night. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

We're just one step closer to the climactic end of this vampirific tale. It's a bit tinier then chapter 2, but these were meant to kind of be on the shorter side.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three

The idea of Chuck being a vampire is simply one too ridiculous to conceive. It'd been the first thing cried out—by whom else but Morgan, the instant Chuck satisfied his appetite with my blood. The almost sickeningly innocent smile he gave us runs through my brain on an endless cycle. I can't seem to make it stop. It reminds of Abbey Dandridge. What she had done to Chuck. What she had done to me. My wound. Chuck had stopped the bleeding, draining the cut dry. It is now bandaged, only burning when I think back to moments earlier.

Back to when Chuck died.

I shiver.

My eyes are settled up front and I am determined to ignore him. Casey forced the distance upon us. He said I was too emotional to handle being near my husband. That I couldn't handle it. That I should get some sleep. But sleep is impossible. There's so much static keeping me awake. Both in my head and elsewhere. And Chuck isn't helping at all. He is persistent to grab my attention by any means. I can hear his constant struggle; wriggling around restless in his chair while the bindings keep him strapped firmly in place. At some point he lets out an inhuman growl of frustration, effectively breaking my resolve. With a deep sigh, I finally turn around.

Chuck is fastened in the seat two rows behind me in our private jet. Morgan and Casey sit beside him on opposite ends. While Casey keeps a tranq pistol handy (I'm positive that it'll be useless), Morgan is hunched over a laptop. He has torn himself away from the mass hysteria caused by Chuck's sudden death and even more surprising revival. Now it is the thousands of results dedicated to theories of vampirism that attracts him. The jet has been uncomfortably quiet since we hastily abandoned New Orleans. For good reason considering what just happened. All of us are lost in deep thought. Our minds are left scrambling to rationalize what our eyes had just seen but chose to disbelieve. Meanwhile Chuck continues to squirm and even gnaw at the straps with his teeth. I feel a pitiful stab at my heart once realizing he hasn't quit moving since we took off over an hour ago. I feel even worse because it is unlikely he'll ever quit until somebody either frees or knocks him unconscious.

He huffs again and this time it sounds almost human. I don't want to appear rude, diverting his focus like this, but he needs the distraction. As do I. Clearing my throat has the desired effect. Chuck perks up instantly, and looks at me with bloody eyes.

"Is this really necessary?" Chuck asks, panting unusually hard. "What's the point of tying me up…I mean, guys, it's me!" He tries to appease with a shaky laugh. "Don't you trust me?"

Casey's grip on the pistol falters when he grunts, conflicted. Morgan glances at his best friend with a sympathetic look before returning to his research. And I am caught in the crossfire with Chuck eagerly waiting for me to come to his aid. He waits for a response and frowns disappointedly when I give nothing away. There's an instant where I seriously consider releasing him. The idea comes as I am caught staring helplessly at his ruby gaze. A chorus of foreign voices invades my mind and sings harmoniously, overwhelmingly. He wants freedom. He wants out. He wants me. Chuck tells me all of this wordlessly, yet I understand him perfectly. But I resist whatever power he has over me and fidget with my wedding band instead.

"Hey, I think I found something!" Morgan's relieved voice booms throughout the cabin only an instant later.

The standoff between Chuck and I ends abruptly. Thank god. We break eye contact and that strange intrusion of the mind fades. I regain control and direct my efforts to Morgan, whose gaze is still riveted to the laptop screen.

"Does it have anything to do with vampires?" Casey growls with annoyance. "Because if I have to listen to that fairy tale bullshit one more time—"

"Of course it has to do with vampires," says Morgan. "Chuck is a vampire."

"That's ridiculous."

Morgan shoots him a glare. "Why is it ridiculous, Casey? Chuck was bit by some lady-thief who has never ever been caught in over a decade! When I zoomed, the Intersect showed me footage of some of Abbey Dandridge's past conquests. She is a freaking ghost. And did you see her teeth? They were fangs, no question about that. The wound on Chuck's neck proves that…"

"What wound are you talking about?" asks Chuck. He is able to cock his head and show that besides dried blood, there is no trace of injury. "Like I said, I'm fine. I don't know what you think you saw, buddy, but I wasn't bit."

"Then how do you explain your eyes?" I interject in a hushed whisper, though a sudden urge to scream at Chuck bubbles to the surface. And so my voice grows louder, fiercer with each accusation. "Or how about when you died in my arms? Or maybe when you blatantly started sucking my blood like a—!"

Chuck visibly winces when he begs. "Don't say it!"

Morgan is dumfounded. "Why not? Sarah's right. She just made a lot of valid points that are indisputable. Casey can't even argue against it and neither can you. So what's the point of living in denial? We need to all be on the same page to figure this out, right?"

"There's no such thing as vampires…" mumbles Chuck.

"Dude, you're so full of it."

Chuck sets his jaw and doesn't speak. I note the subtle fear weighing in his countenance. Actually, it isn't subtle at all. On the contrary, he looks downright terrified. Like he knows that Morgan is right about him being…a vampire. Even if the facts are there, I can't make myself embrace the idea that my husband is what? A monster? I know I'll come around eventually, as will Casey, but this is ridiculous.

"I don't get why it's so hard to believe," Morgan continues on in the same incredulous tone. He is standing now with his arms outstretched, expecting for someone to offer a counter argument. Nobody does and he sighs. "Look, we all saw what happened to Chuck. The bite marks might've healed already, but I'll bet there's a scar. So far all we know for sure is that something is wrong with him. Drinking blood isn't exactly normal behavior for a human being, is it?"

Casey nods. "What do you suppose we do then?"

"Well, I mean, we'll be back to Burbank within the hour. Then we can get Chuck to Castle and figure it out from there. Run some diagnostics, check if his heart is even still beating."

Chuck rolls his eyes. "I'm alive, Morgan. I can feel my heart beating just fine, and I'm breathing on my own too. Do you want to check my pulse, because I can assure you I'm just peachy."

"What if it's not your heart beating, but everyone else's, and you can hear them? You're breathing out of habit. It's normally an involuntary action. I bet you could stop breathing right now and be totally functional."

"So that's it, huh?" says Chuck. He is staring directly at me again. Hurt shining in his eyes. Pain evident in his voice. "We're all positive that I'm a vampire just because Mr. Intersect said so?"

Oh, Chuck. I think sadly.

Morgan does a comically fast double take before slamming the laptop shut. Casey just shakes his head. Rather than appearing irritated, he's just exhausted. Fatigue is catching up to all of us. All of us but Chuck.

"Man, are you being serious right now?" Morgan exclaims. "You're having Intersect-withdrawals and blaming it on me? At a time like this? We shouldn't even be thinking about the Intersect or hell, even the company. You're top priority. Sarah and Casey will be more than willing to back me up on that. And if we can get you back to normal, then I'll find a way to give you the stupid thing back!"

I watch helplessly as Morgan approaches Chuck with purpose. A weird feeling sneaks upon me as the two close the distance between each other. Or rather, Morgan does. It makes me feel sick because somehow I suspect what exactly will happen next. Though there is no way to avoid it now.

Morgan lays a hand on Chuck's neck. "See!" He shouts and then points to the bloodied wound. What used to be a gaping lesion has been replaced with two puncture marks in his flesh. While Morgan continues to prod, I see Chuck barring his teeth. A deep rumbling comes from the back of his throat, a preemptive warning for things to come if he is continuously provoked.

Anyone who's had a run-in before with an attack dog knows this is clearly a dangerous sign. Don't mess with it. Don't provoke it. Don't feed the beast. It will rip you to shreds.

My eyes grow wide in alarm, and I leap to my feet. "Morgan, stop it now!"

As the words slip from my mouth, I am already too late. In a flash, Chuck rips from the bindings and has Morgan pinned on the ground. The plane shakes with turbulence which makes it impossible for Casey or me to act immediately. Chuck hangs above a writhing Morgan with his fangs protruding, long and menacing. When the rocking subsides, Casey stands up and fires a round of tranq darts at Chuck. All hit their designated target but as I suspected, Chuck is unaffected.

I take the missed opportunity to intervene, but I'm not too sure what I'll do once I separate the two of them. How will Chuck react when I defend Morgan's life before his own? He seems far from caring about anything other than tearing his prey apart. If anything, my interference will only anger him more for denying his hunger. Then he'll certainly be after me next.

Before I reach them, Morgan zooms and the Intersect kicks into gear. He manages to get a decent punch at Chuck's trachea, which alive or undead, still must hurt like hell. Chuck rolls off of Morgan and chokes for air that according to vampire lore, he shouldn't even need. As Morgan scrambles to his feet, a look of horror dons his face. Chuck holds himself up on all fours; body trembling as a sob wrecks through him. We all watch in complete stunned silence.

Recovering first, I slowly move towards Chuck like it's a dream. I fall onto my knees and without delay, reach out a hand to run through his hair and caress down the side of his face. My palm settles against his cheek, forcing him to lift his head and meet my gaze. His red eyes have dimmed into a dark crimson shade. In the right light it even looks reminiscent of his chocolate brown. The fear finally seems to have overpowered Chuck. I see no trace of denial, but bitter resentment and blatant dread for what he has become.

He mouths something that I cannot quite hear. I try reading his lips and realize that he's saying my name. I lean forward and sport my best reassuring smile.

"Chuck, I'm here. What is it? You can tell me anything."

When he speaks, it's a whisper:

"Sarah…I'm so hungry."

An: Dun. Dun. Dunnnn! Chuck's a-hungry. Told you this chapter was short. Last update was purely a fluke I think. Next chapter will have Chuck sating his hunger temporarily, Ellie will stop by to diagnose her little brother, and Sarah will get to see firsthand how her husband adapts to the changes he's undergone, which isn't entirely unpleasant mind you.

This story is also looking like it won't be done till after Halloween. Unless of course I decide to crank out two really long chapters and an epilogue. But I'm having too much fun with this, and I might stretch it out just a bit longer. :)