About ten minutes later there was a light knock at the door, and she called whoever it was in.

"C-Come in." She turned and wiped her nose on the comforter, trying to make it look like she hadn't been crying.

"Hey...I heard you yelling earlier, Carden said you were just having a nightmare...maybe we should lower your dosage after all, dreams can be a side effect."

She nodded, "I don't think it was a dream as so much as a hallucination...I...I saw my best friend, the one I killed. Please tell me this is all just a bad dream..ow...ow..." she panted softly as her stitches tugged, she'd forgotten Lottie had made her move quicker than she'd been.

William gently moved the cloak and told her to lay down, it was time to switch her bandages again.

"Adeline...next time you have a nightmare, don't suffer through it. You must have thrashed quite a bit, your stitches are coming lose and these are soaked..." he chastised lightly as he lifted the now blood soaked bandages from her stomach.

"S-Sorry...I...I have a habit of wanting to do things on my own, 'least that bitch told me so." she spat, laughing afterwards.

"What's gotten into you? A minute ago you were crying, and now you're-"

"The drugs." She explains, voice going sing-songy as she reached up and grabbed for the collar of William's shirt and tugged as he went to grab the new bandages on the dresser.

AJ closed her eyes and yelped at the blinding pain when his hand landed on her stomach, just over the stitches that still held, the moment fading as their lips met.

His eyes widened in surprise, it felt like her body heat had gone up again, and despite her body being a complete wreck she still had the strength to want to be intimate. When she finally released him, she giggled, "Sorry, but I really needed that. It's been days..."

"It has. And truth be told, if these stitches hold, we could probably get you cleaned up some. How would a shower sound?"

She sighed, "Mhm...hot water. But with my cast? I don't think we can get that wet, I mean, the skin's already- ah fuck, it'll be fine. Only on one condition, though."

He rolled his eyes, "You really think I'd leave you in the shower alone in your condition in the first place? Not happening, dear."

She grinned, "So...what are you waiting for, then? It's not like I'm still in any major pain..."

He smiled, grabbing for her hand and kissing her palm before his arms went around her, lifting her wedding style into his arms.

"It's really too bad this isn't a completely different context," she mused as they stepped into the shower, although the water wasn't running yet. Well, when it says stepped into the shower, William really had just stepped over the divide still carrying her before setting her down, allowing her to lean against him while he undressed her and started said water.

As soon as the water hit her, AJ gasped and bit her lip.

"Too warm?" he asked, kissing her forehead, feeling her hands form fists against his chest, to which he lowered his hands to her hips and gently turned her, she protesting the entire time, "It's t-too c-cold."

After her back faced him, he reached and turned the faucet, noticing the oddest thing. She had said it was too cold, and he'd turned the water hotter because of it. He knew if she'd still been mortal the temperature of the water would had sent her cowering for fear of a burn by now, but still, her skin felt warm.

"Doll, did you just say it's too cold? I haven't even touched the cold facet, it's only running hot water, and that's all the way, it won't turn anymore other than to turn it off," he explained, noticing she had started shivering.

"That's means it's working. Lycans and even half breeds like me have a unique way of healing ourselves, we've referred to it as 'The Fever' for the longest time, or at least that's what I was taught. Our body temp rises and causes cell to generate faster, repairing whatever is broken or damaged."

"So that's why you felt so cold after you got throw into that wall at your apartment...it must've kicked in to make you feel better."

"Yeah, it works like that. In fact, I'm already feeling better." She smiled, turning back around to face him, hands reaching up to his shoulders for support as she backed up so her hair would get wet.

"That doesn't mean I'm getting out, love."

She giggled, shaking her head, water flying, "I wasn't expecting you to."

After she'd finished washing her hair, she put a hand to her stomach, surprised to not feel the stitches, hell, there wasn't even evidence she'd been hurt in the first place!

"Dissolvable stitches. Quick thinking on whoever's part that thought of that," she mused, smiling.

"Figured I'd spare you the pain of having to remove them later, and be- woah!"

She turned, switching their positions with ease, leaning back against the towel rack for support, trying not to laugh as William stood beneath the shower head, getting soaked, gaze transfixed on her, trying to act mad.

"What? Baby, you said you weren't getting out."

"Well, now I'm not. Might as well take these off," he sighed, shrugging out of his suit jacket, more or less throwing it to the laundry basket next to the door before unbuttoning the long sleeve shirt that was under that, and then pulling the undershirt that was under that over his head.

AJ smirked, having already made short work of the button and fly of his pants. William only looked at her, shaking his head in mock disappointment as those too hit the laundry basket.

"I know where your mind is. And knowing you, there's not enough marks on that towel rack," he smiled, one arm wrapping around her waist, lips going to her neck, she still shivering slightly against him, "Or your body."

She only smiled, biting her lip, twirling curls around her finger, hoping they wouldn't get knotted before she added, "I had to be stupid enough to play the game with a Dandie, didn't I? You know exactly where this is heading..."

And twenty minutes later, AJ found herself wrapped in the fluffiest towel she'd ever felt, completely healed, not an ache to be found besides her shoulders, which, after looking in the mirror, realized it was the first night all over again.

"Ah, hey…mhmm…put me down! I- hm, this'll work," she sighed in defeat as William had swept her into his arms, propped the bathroom door open with his foot, and then carried her back to the bed.

"Do we really have to lie down? I've been stuck laying there for five days now and-" she fell quiet once she noticed how William was looking at her, it looked like he had something on his mind.

"Come on, come here. We don't have to lie down, I just know how much you've missed this," he murmured, lips centimeters from her own as he laid her down, his hands trapping her to the bed.

She smiled, shifting against him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, but he turned, causing her to move with him, curling against his side as he pulled the comforter over them both.

"Mhmm, sure, act like you didn't have this all planned." She huffed, head buried in the crook of his neck, legs already wound together.

She rolled her eyes as she felt him turn his head to kiss her.

"Actually, I didn't. I was hoping, now that you're better and everything's sort of back to normal, if we could continue where we left off that day your friends interrupted us," he started, waiting for her nod.

"And?"

"Well, I still know more about you than you know of me, and I'd like to fix that."

She said something under her breath and then giggled, but he pretended not to hear, instead asking, "What was that now, doll?"

"N-Nothing. Maybe that's not the only thing you'd like to fix."

"You keep thinking like that, the boys will start to think you've cursed that door," William began, motioning toward the bedroom door, "Because I have a feeling your attachment is only going to get worse as time goes on."

She only nodded, "Go on."

"And seeing as you're part of this coven now, you might as well know where we're all from, I mean, how we got to this point, more or less. We've all got our stories, I know part of yours, it's time you've learned mine."

Adeline's eyes widened, and she smiled, sitting up and untangling herself from from the sheets, crossing her legs like a kindergartener.

"Now this I want to hear. Who were you sired by? Vlad Dracul? Giles de Rais? Oh, I know! Elizabeth Bathory!" she guessed, one after the other, obviously having been paging through the local libraries collection of vampiric lore.

William smiled, shaking his head.

"Good guess, but no, no and no, although that last one is a century off. I was turned in 1712, and to this day I can't exactly remember by who. The circumstances were understandable back then, the Riot Act had just gone into effect in Great Britain and those of us that had our groups were less than pleased to discover that our plans could now be breeding grounds for authoritative involvement. Like most young men my age, I had my own group, and after the day's work had been done we'd all find something to do, whether it was heading into town to court the ladies or run around the barren fields playing anything we could think of to keep ourselves busy until curfew called us home. This would sound odd to you that even twenty year olds would have curfews, but with the local legends of those that walked in the shadows, we heeded the warnings and made sure to always be inside be sunset."

She nodded, "Sounds like a ghost story...that's all you've got?"

"Hush. I'm not even halfway through. And yes, although that sounds like a child's cradle tale, we obeyed. One night I had managed to get lost long enough with the group, playing the child's game we had adored when we were younger - hide and seek. And when it got dark, we didn't notice, the fifteen of us were too busy staying quiet and listening to someone's footsteps to realize the fun should have ended. Fifteen people was more than enough to get us in trouble with the Riot Act now in place, but we didn't care. I had always promised myself I'd prove those cradle tales wrong someday, and that night I never knew just how much trouble I was getting myself into. I split off from the main group, not wanting to get caught and read the Riot Act. I should've stayed. As I neared the bookstore I had often frequented, I noticed it was dark - not a lantern in sight. I was past curfew. Walking toward the flat where I lived, I began to feel uneasy...like I was being watched, almost. It was far too quiet to be the city I loved, and it honestly frightened me. Who would have known, that perhaps all those cradle tales weren't made up after all, that the monsters really were out there?
I turned the street corner that led up to my building, but in front of the door there was someone I'd never seen before. From the way she dressed, it was obvious she came from a wealthier family, so I figured I'd chat awhile with her. She never did reveal just why she was out that late, and I never...I never did catch her name."

He put a hand to his neck, absentmindedly remembering the exact spot her fangs had sunk into him, sighing as though recalling the very memory was causing him pain.

"It's been three centuries, and I'm still able to recall the worst feeling in the world. You know it all too well, that moment the venom fully circulates your bloodstream and your heart seemingly folds in on itself and your lungs collapse. But even that's second once you wake back up."

"Wake back up?"

"Yeah, wake back up. I'm sure you remember the pain - not because you're hurt or fatigued. It was a different pain altogether."

"The hunger." She replied in understanding, cringing as she remembered her own confusion after being turned, the way her throat had burned no more how much water she drank. Until she figured out it wasn't water she needed. She closed her eyes, feeling her hands form fists, nails digging into her palm. Great. She was thinking about the past again, that meant the ghosts would be back. And tonight, now that she was one, did that mean Charlotte would be back?

"-ine. Adeline, love, you okay? You're spacing on me." William called, motioning to the bed for her to lie down again.

She did, explaining, "It's fine...I'm just...remembering. My past doesn't like me very much. There's so much I've done wrong, so many people I've killed. Do you know what that's like? The ghosts...I see the faces sometimes, of guys I've killed. Sometimes I still hear them. I just...I think I'm a monster."

He smiled sadly, acknowledging her point, arms winding around her as she curled into him, anything to brush the doubt away that had suddenly fell over her.

"You're not a monster, you just haven't come to terms with your reality yet. Give it another century, it'll get better."

She sighed.

"But does the guilt ever really go away?" she murmured softly into his chest, he could tell the turn of the conversation had began to affect her.

He was quiet for a few moments, thinking out almost the entire response before he actually said anything.

"Sometimes it'll still hurt - just as you can still feel the initial burn of the whiskey after chaser shots. Normally I would say time heals these sorts of wounds, but sometimes, they just simply don't go away. They linger in your thoughts - the faces of the ones you never thought would affect you, the voice of someone you believe you had loved. But then you find yourself mulling over past mistakes and the things you'd do over if you got the chance. Being what we are, we carry with us the misfortune of remembering every last incident of our pride being wounded, or our hearts being scarred when they finally walk away. Time does not by any means heal these wounds; it simply makes them dimmer as the sun rises on each new day. Don't dwell on the past, for if you do, you'll never manage to trace the forgotten strands of your humanity that remain - the simple act of hoping for a better future and the realization that sometimes, we must learn to accept the things that hurt us the most."

She looked up at him, mouth half open in what he guessed was an 'eloquence based awe'.

"Baby, can I please please please refer to you as a walking piece of classic romantic literature? That was just...just...just-"

He smiled, already used to her stuttering if she found something he did attractive or something along that train of thought.

"I know."