An: Andddd we're back on track! A new chapter everyday like I originally promised. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story, because in all actuality, I wasn't expecting much. This was supposed to be just an open ended one-shot, but the spirit of Halloween (and mentally picturing how *hot* Zachary Levi would be if he played a vampire) has got the best of me, dragging this horrifying tale out much longer than anticipated. No regrets. I haven't had this much fun writing a short story before. So again, thank you for reading!

I'd also want to preface this chapter by saying; I loathe the Twilight series/saga whatever. Sorry if you do, but if there's any mentioning of it, it'll be good natured bashing. The vampires in this story are a compilation of all of best candidates I've seen from TV, Movies, and Comics etc. So no sparkling.

Anyways, please enjoy!

Chapter Four

We don't bother trying to tie up Chuck again. It's not like it did much good the first time around. For now he lies across a row of seats with his head resting in my lap instead. I lazily stroke his face and admire the way his translucent skin reflects off the moonlight filtering in from the cabin window. His complexion is a lot paler than I can remember. The usual California tan has all but faded completely. However a soft glow radiates off of him still. It's not sickly, but startling beautiful. Sort of like snow.

The steady rise and fall of his chest tells me two things. He's finally beginning to calm down, and he's definitely alive. After his breakdown Chuck promptly collapsed. Too weak and powerless to overcome his hunger or other primal urges, he had simply given up. Fatigue thankfully overwhelmed him rather than the thirst to slaughter the rest of us. Now he's subdued and resting until we land in Burbank. From there we'll return to Castle. Then, of course i'm totally clueless.

I absently run my fingers through his dampened hair. Chuck appears to be enjoying it immensely; nuzzling against my palm as a pleased noise reverberates from his throat. The corners of his lips twitch into a content smile, and red eyes peer through their hooded gaze. They stare up at me in unmistakable awe. I stop for a moment or two, enrapt by the look he gives me. It's almost like yesterday's look. Or perhaps the one from the day before. But it's not quite the same. Something is missing. I see the genuine love, the undying affection, and the adoration. It's all there, but not.

"You smell amazing," Chuck whispers in an awe-filled tone that matches his current expression.

I smile faintly and ask. "Is that a good thing, or not?"

He shrugs. "Both."

"How so?"

Morgan glances up from the laptop when he hears us conversing again. I notice that he's a bit shaken up from the attack. He shoots me a worried look but that's it before returning once more to his research. Casey is sitting by beside him, silently providing support.

"…it's hard to explain," says Chuck.

"Well, do you want to suck my blood?" I joke, and his face darkens considerably. "Sorry, that was too soon wasn't it?"

"Don't joke about stuff like that."

I frown. "You're still hungry."

He nods. "I want—I need it, Sarah. When I woke up, it was because I smelt it. Your blood. And it was good, really good. Salty but sweet, tasted like life."

I place a hand on my bandage. "Do you…want more?"

"No."

"Why not, Chuck? If you are," myy voice drops like i'm telling him a secret, "a vampire, you have to drink to survive. Isn't that how it goes?"

He closes his eyes and sighs. "I'm afraid that if do that...I will lose control. I know that I won't be able to stop this time, and putting my needs before your life is a selfish risk I'm not willing to take. You're my wife, Sarah. So I'll just find another way."

"Chuck's right," says Morgan from behind the computer. "The longer a vampire goes without feeding, the worse the cravings get. If you offer yourself to him, Sarah, he'll kill you."

"Then what are we supposed to do exactly?" I ask, annoyed. "Starve him to death? Sacrifice myself? Or hope to god that Chuck doesn't go on a killing spree when we get back home?"

"What about a blood bank?" Casey Interjects. "If we can nab enough donations, then it'll give Bartowski a temporary fix."

Chuck sits upright, shaking his head. "No, no way. I won't to steal blood from people who really need it."

Casey snorts. "Tough luck, everybody needs blood. And unless you have a better idea, we're sticking with this one."

"Call Ellie," he suggests. "There's plenty of blood packs at the hospital."

"What do we tell her?" Morgan asks warily. "That we mistakenly went chasing after a vampire who incidentally bit her brother? That'll go over smooth."

"Tell her I'm hurt," says Chuck. "I was wounded on a mission and there was no time to get medical attention. I need a blood transfusion or something. She'll help, I know it."

Morgan's unconvinced. "But she's Ellie, man! She will want to see you, run tests, and probably admit you to Westside."

"Let her," I say. Three heads turn to me in disbelief. "Ellie won't back down, so if we allow her to see Chuck, to diagnose him properly at Castle, then we can maybe see what we're dealing with. It's our best bet."

Nobody challenges my idea. Morgan concedes with a slight nod while Casey appears to be wholly indifferent to however we approach this. Chuck looks positively exhausted. He slumps over and I catch him in my arms. I gently lower him back to his rightful place in my lap. He stares up at me again, smiling appreciatively.

"Ellie's going to kill me," he yawns before drifting off.

Soon our pilot announces that we have arrived safely to Los Angeles. As the jet makes its final descent towards the private air landing strip, I bend forward and plant a chaste kiss on Chuck's parted lips. I taste remnants of my blood but pay no mind to it. It is salty and sweet, just how he described it.

It is life, but it is also Chuck.

Slurp.

Three A negative blood packs later and Ellie still cannot take her eyes off him. She had joined us at Castle almost the same time we returned back. Her shift at the hospital had just ended when Morgan made the call. He gave her the shortened version of the story. Basically, Chuck was hurt and needed a blood transfusion. This was more than enough incentive for the eldest Bartowski sibling to steal enough supplies and rush to meet us before dawn.

The moment she arrived, she was met by an overly eager Chuck. He must have smelt the blood stowed in her purse because I've never seen anybody move that fast. Chuck was a blur, ditching my side for Ellie, who wasn't expecting to be shoulder-checked to the ground. Nor did she anticipate being pounced on by her younger brother. Chuck's bloodlust was working overtime it seemed. Butt instead of trying to rip her apart like he had with Morgan, he left Ellie unscathed. All he wanted was the purse. Once he had it in his clutches, Chuck slinked beside me in an all so casual manner. Like he had not just attacked his own sister. After I picked my jaw up off from the floor, I gave my husband a reprimanding tug of the ear, before tearing the purse out of his grubby little pale hands.

I had taken everyone by surprise when I shouted: "Bad!" Then immediately realized how awkward it was to feel like i'd been scolding a puppy. It didn't help matters when Chuck visibly sulked, embarrassed at his poor behavior.

Now, over an hour has passed since then. Chuck has been forced to sit ("I'm not a dog!" he'd shout indignantly) while Ellie examines him. To get him under control, Morgan tamed the beast with a blood pack per the doctor's orders. He jammed a straw into the open pouch and we all watched in mild disgust as Chuck drank, drank, and drank some more. He drained every bag and wouldn't stop for anything, only speaking when he'd demand for another.

"We should cut him off," Casey says gruffly. Even he is blanching in contempt. "Is it possible to get blood overdose?"

I give a noncommittal shrug and turn my attention back to Chuck. He is spinning around in the swivel-chair. His mood a little too cheerful considering the seriousness of the situation. Meanwhile Ellie orders Morgan around to keep him still, sighing in exasperation when it proves to be an impossible feat.

Ellie shoots me a withering glance. "What is wrong with him besides the obvious?"

"He's regressing," I deadpan. "Maybe it's a side-effect of the bite?" Or maybe he's just finally gone insane.

"Well, can you please calm him down? I can't check his vitals if he's constantly moving."

I nod. "Sure."

When I approach Chuck, the chair makes a single rotation before stopping right in front of me. He notes my stern expression, and merely smiles in that adorable Chuck Bartowski way. It would've worked if not for the blood marring his face, or if the circumstances weren't so dire.

I tell him nicely: "Honey, you need to behave."

"I am," he replies innocently. If he bats his eyes, I swear I'll slap him. "Can I have another?"

"No," I shake my head and his face drops. "I know what you're trying to do, Chuck. It's not going to work on me."

He tilts his head. "What am I trying to do?"

"Seduce me with your vampire powers."

"Seduce with my…" he ponders this for a second, then grins. "Are you sure it's not working?"

"Not in the slightest."

"It almost did last time."

"Wait," I narrow my eyes suspiciously. "You knew about it?"

I hear someone ask. "What's going on?"

"Chuck tried to use his stupid vampire mind control on me back on the flight home," I reveal. Everyone turns to Chuck who looks positively smug. The audacity makes me either want to smack him or tear his clothes off. Not sure which is more tempting yet. "I thought you were adamant about not thinking you were a vampire, sweetheart?"

"I was, but…"

"But what?"

"I wasn't exactly in control." He shrugs. "It sort of just happened."

"Forcing me to free you doesn't sound like it's exactly accidental," I argue.

"It was an accident. Trust me if I had been actually trying to Jedi mind-trick you, it would've worked." Chuck admits this in a voice so seductive it would've singlehandedly shivered me out of my clothes and…

Wait.

He's doing it again!

"Charles Irving Bartowski!" I yell loudly and he smirks. "That's exactly what I was talking about!"

"If you give me more blood, I swear I'll stop."

"That doesn't teach you anything!" I shout, my anger flaring.

His eyes are getting wider and darker, though he remains unmoving in the chair. He's goading me on purpose. That manipulative jerk! Last time I checked, I didn't know that turning into a an overconfident jackass was part of the whole vampire transformation.

Before I lose my patience and wring his neck, Ellie intervenes. It's probably a good idea that she had. If I've learned anything about the way Chuck and I fight, it's that they usually escalate into that of the sexual nature pretty damn fast. Compromising positions are the last thing I want to worry about. As if I have enough to worry myself sick over.

"You two need to separate," my sister-in-law announces suddenly. Her motherly tone tears me from my thoughts and I obey, retreating a few paces backwards. Ellie directs her attention solely on her brother. "Chuck, you'll get more blood once I'm done with you, alright?"

Chuck nods enthusiastically.

While Ellie continues to check him over, I cross my arms and refuse to watch the cross-examination take place. Not because it is uninteresting. No. It's because I'm deathly afraid to make eye contact with Chuck again. If what he says is true, then he can invade my mind with ease. It's not fair that he can overpower me like that. He already had enough sway when he was human.

"He seems to be embracing his disability with open arms," Casey mutters under his breath. For someone who has been silent for the most part, he always manages to make a keen observation. Even Morgan tends to agree with the sentiment, as do I.

"I don't know what's gotten in to him," I say truthfully. "First he's in denial. Then he has a mental breakdown on the jet, almost killing Morgan in the process. Now, he's totally relaxed and content with it."

"That's the stages of grief," Morgan points out tiredly. "Chuck's in the acceptance phase."

I frown, perplexed. "It doesn't make any sense."

Casey grunts. "Who says that it has to?"

And at that, I am left absolutely speechless.

"Open up wide, Chuck."

Chuck rolls his eyes but complies anyways. Ellie is sure taking this well. She's calm, cool, and collected. Exactly how I am supposed to be. Yet I am still freaking out. Just keeping the panic better concealed this time. I watch quietly as Ellie stays fully enthralled by her brother's condition. For the last few minutes or so, she has finished most of her assessment. She took his vitals and tested his heartbeat. It's irregular but there. Finally, she is checking out his newly acquired fangs.

"They look like normal teeth to me," says Ellie in bewilderment. I suppose she was expecting something more. "His lateral incisors are the right length and everything."

"They're retractable," I inform her. "Whenever Chuck is near blood, they pop out."

Ellie nods and digs a hand into her purse. She jostles for a moment before pulling out the last blood pack. Chuck unconsciously leans forward in his seat, almost identical to how he "surprised" his sister earlier. He even licks his lips this time around, which of course sends delightful shivers up my spine.

"This should do the trick then," Ellie muses.

When she dangles the pouch of red liquid in front of Chuck's face, he starts to become increasingly restless. He pants and grips the sides of the chair like he's using every ounce of his self-control. It's a bit cruel to tease him like this, but it's in the name of science. Just as long as he doesn't give into the bloodlust again, and I'm sure this won't end badly. I hope.

"Ellie, be careful," I warn. Who knows if Chuck has developed a preference for preserved or fresh blood?

But to my great relief, he remains still. His canines, however, change. They elongate into two dagger-shaped fangs. Pointy, sharp and deadly. Satisfied, Ellie yanks the blood pack away which almost causes for Chuck to lose his balance and fall off the chair. He catches himself though. Pouting when he is denied his special treat.

Ellie feels sorry for him. I can read it in her face. "Don't worry, you can have it," she says and tosses the pack into his ready lap. Chuck digs in without restraint; tearing the pouch open and blood splatters everywhere. I gag and turn away to shield my displeasure.

Morgan somehow can stomach his best friend's change of diet. Keeping aloof, he asks curiously. "What's the prognosis, doctor?"

"Chuck has what the medical profession calls Porphyric Haemophilia," she explains and takes a seat at the conference table. The rest of us follow. I'm anticipating a lengthy explanation. So I listen intently. "It literally translates into Lover of Blood. This according to urban legends and folklore is the equivalent of what you know commonly as vampirism."

"So it's real then?" Morgan cuts in. "The disease?"

Ellie nods stiffly. "As of now, it's not officially a real condition. Most of the symptoms are unfounded and controversial. But I can tell you what I found about Chuck is fascinating."

"I wouldn't call it fascinating," I comment dryly. "Maybe horrific or surreal."

"From a medical standpoint, I will admit that it is fascinating, Sarah." Ellie says defensively. "But as Chuck's sister, I am absolutely terrified and I'm sure you are too."

I steal a quick glance at Chuck while she's lecturing me. He's covered in blood, dripping red like how he woke up from death's stupor only what? Four hours ago? I struggle to keep an emotionless façade but it's useless. I'm going to be sick again.

Ellie resumes where she left off: "But back to my prognosis. Chuck appears to have been, in the most sensible terms, poisoned. This woman who attacked him, when she bit Chuck, the fangs released a toxin into his bloodstream. It's still too early to figure what it is exactly, but it's deadly nonetheless. It has tainted Chuck's blood, turning his white blood cells against each other. This is the most logical explanation for why he feels the compulsive need to constantly feed on other's blood. It will replenish what has been corrupted and serve as a temporary fix by absorbing the nutrients required to keep him alive. The longer he abstains from feeding, the more likely it is that he'll eventually succumb to the poisoning and die." She pauses briefly, taking in the looks we're giving her. "Any questions so far?"

"I've got one," I say and she nods for me to go on. "When Chuck was bit, I felt him die. His heart stopped beating and the wound nearly exposed most of his throat. He told me what resuscitated him was the smell of my blood." I finish and raise my bandaged arm as proof.

"Think of it like this. Chuck was being infected by the poison, and to fight it off, his body went into shutdown. All of his vitals were probably nonexistent; brain function ceased and there was no pulse. Have you ever heard about extracting the toxin secreted by the blowfish?"

We all nod simultaneously.

"Well, this is exactly like that. It puts the victim into a near deathlike state until outside stimuli or a beta-blocker can reverse the effect. While Chuck's brain was offline, his body was still working to some degree. That means that your blood Sarah, it acted like some sort of epinephrine. It gave Chuck the burst of adrenaline to beat the poison, which also caused his more primal instincts to take over.

"But that's all I can really explain without getting into the mythos of vampirism. The discoloration of his eyes can be similar to if you'd suffer from kidney or liver failure. His pale skin tone is from his lack of nourishment and the sickness in general. But the fangs and his enhanced sense are a whole different story. It's either an act of God or Darwinism."

It takes a good while before all of this information sinks in. I absently begin to fiddle with my wedding band again before lifting my head and asking. "How do you know so much about vampires? This can't be too common of an illness."

It's Chuck who answers my question. "Ellie has been infatuated with strange diseases since before she decided to purse becoming a doctor. Vampirism was the most attractive out of all of them. Mostly because back then, she was obsessed with Anne Rice and any other vampire series she could get a hold of."

Ellie blushes fiercely.

"I remember that!" exclaims Morgan with a huge smile. "She always kept gushing over Lestat and when Interview with a Vampire came out in theaters, she was at the midnight showing. And you called us nerds!"

"At least she knows something," I try to change the subject and save Ellie from further embarrassment. "And I feel slightly less freaked out that my husband is a one of the walking dead."

"Good show," quips Morgan. "But according to El, Chuck's alive and kicking."

"That I am," says Chuck and I nearly jump when I find him hovering behind me. He settles both hands on either side of my shoulder and gives me a reassuring squeeze."I actually feel pretty awesome right now."

"That's the gallon of blood you just chugged," remarks Casey. "If there's such thing as a blood-induced hangover, you're going to be hating life later."

"Somehow I think that's unlikely."

"How long do you think you'll be ok before feeding again?" I ask Chuck, but mean for Ellie to answer.

She does. "The time limit is up in the air for now, but I'd estimate anywhere from an hour to a day."

Morgan's eyes widen. "Where are we supposed to get all that blood? There's no way we'll keep stealing it from the hospital or blood banks."

I chew on my bottom lip before suggesting. "What about me?"

Everyone turns to me and I feel Chuck grow tense. His nails dig into my shoulders and I wince. "What about you?" Ellie says.

"What if I give Chuck my blood? I mean, if he doesn't bite me, then I should be fine, right?"

"Sarah, we've been over this!" Chuck growls. "I won't risk it."

I whirl around and watch Chuck back off in surprise. My eyes flash with my convictions set ablaze. "What choice do we really have? If we can't find a cure for this, you're going to be stuck drinking blood for the rest of your life. You said it yourself; stealing blood from others is wrong. So the only other alternative I see is me allowing you to take mine willingly."

"But what if I lose control again?"

"You won't."

Chuck is astounded by my persistence to not let the topic drop. I see him looking across the table to his friends and sister for help. They give him nothing. He sighs in defeat. "Just know that if I ever hurt you, or hurt anybody because I don't have control, then it'd better to just kill me."

"Nobody is going to kill you, Chuck."

"I'll do it myself then," and he circumvents around the table, heading for the hallway. I begin standing up to stop him from leaving. "I can stab myself in the heart with a stake, or turn into dust if I were to accidently go outside in broad daylight…"

Morgan corrects him. "The whole turning to dust in the sunlight is a myth, dude. I've read tons of variations where you either explode into ash, shrivel up, get a nasty sunburn, or sparkle."

I scrunch my face up and ask incredulously. "What sort of vampire sparkles?"

"You don't want to know," Morgan tells me quickly. "But that's beside the point. All of those options seem to be unlikely. The most realistic of them is that you'll get sunburned."

Chuck gives his best friend a bored stare, before continuing his exit. He waves his hand dismissively. "Whatever, guys. I'm too tired to argue right now, and I'd much rather catch a few winks than debate vampire lore with you."

I call out to him, worried. "Where are you going, Chuck?"

He doesn't turn around when he answers, "I'm going to lock myself up in a holding cell for the day. Try and sleep."

He's met with no objection and Chuck leaves us all behind without a second glance. The four of us exchange apprehensive looks, but utter not a word. This whole vampire business has every one of us discombobulated. Chuck is suffering especially. I can't imagine how he must be feeling; all of the ups and downs, the euphoria and the depression that follows. If he wasn't drinking blood, I'd assume Chuck had developed an extreme case of bipolar disorder.

I bury my face with both hands and think to myself. What a terrible night this has been.

An: It is almost 2am and I'm about to die. Look what this story has done to me! This chapter has reached over 4,000 words. Ugh. I apologize for the crazy amount of dialogue and equally crazy explanation for vampirism. It needed to get out of the way before I continue on with the plot. Also, hope you enjoy the awesomeness that is bipolar/vampire Chuck. He's like an untrained puppy that has a fondness for blood-play and trolling.

Next chapter should be up tomorrow. Or is it today now? Ughx2. Anyways, it'll be about Chuck getting accustomed to his condition, and enjoying the nightlife when Sarah gives him recess from the dark depths of Castle.