The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the shooting pain in his skull that felt like he had knocked heads with a dragon. His whole body felt weak and empty like he hadn't eaten any food in days. His throat was parched and hurt from misuse.

The next thing he noticed was that he was only wearing his trousers.

He tried to concentrate, but the pounding of his skull proved to make it difficult. What happened? Why was he like this? Then suddenly he remembered the smell of blood and a pair of bright amber eyes swirling in his vision.

With a start, he tried to push himself upright, but a pair of smooth hands stopped him. The world spun around him and it took a long time before his eyes could refocus from the quick action. He groaned as the pain ricocheted inside his skull.

Blinking, he found himself looking into Serana's face. Her eyes radiated concern, but she appeared to be much better shape than when he had last seen her. Her pale skin had returned to its usual glow and she seemed to hold herself with a strength that had been absent from before.

His eyes flickered to his arm. She must have healed it; all that was left was a faint silver line and two holes from where she had penetrated his skin with her fangs.

His gaze returned to her and suddenly he was very aware of her hands on his bare chest. His skin seemed to burn slightly under her touch and he must have been recovering from a fever. Serana brought her hands back to her sides and said nothing, just watching him.

"How long have I been out?" he managed to rasp. Without asking, she handed him a water skin that he gratefully accepted. The soothing liquid trickled down his sore throat and quenched his thirst.

"Four days." Her reply had him choking on his water.

Frantically, he inspected himself. He swore he had the same tan skin that he had for as long as he could remember. He felt no different than usual, well actually he felt very different, but not anything like "the sun was weakening him" kind of deal. Feeling his teeth, he didn't find any fangs.

"I'm not a vampire." he realized out loud.

"No, you're not." she agreed.

"Why?"

"After what happened," she said, pointedly not referring to the event that had transpired between the two, "You came down with a fever and starting slipping in and out of unconsciousness."

Now that she mentioned it, he had hazy memories of his fever induced self. All he could remember was the suffocating heat and Serana's face swimming in and out of view. He tried to see if he could remember more, but his head spiked in pain and he let the memories fall away. His mind was fuzzy, but he drifted back to the strain of conversation. Serana was still speaking.

"Eventually, you managed to stay conscious long enough for me to get you to drink the cure. I didn't think you were fond of the idea of becoming a vampire since you've refused the offer twice now, and it would stop the fever, so..." she shrugged.

He nodded. "Thank you."

A shadow crossed her face. "Don't thank me. I nearly killed you; I was starting to think you wouldn't wake up."

"But I did."

Her eyes flashed. "I almost killed you! Do you understand that? When I finally had the willpower to stop, you were nearly gone! What if I didn't stop? How would I explain to the Dawnguard that you were dead? As if they would let me live! If you died, you would leave me all alone..." Her voice lost its volume and became small. "You're all I have now."

He shoved his guilt aside to speak. "I wasn't going to sit by and watch you suffer. I've been traveling with you all this time, pumping with blood, and making it harder for you! Yet not once, even when I was sleeping, did you feed off of me. Of course I had to do something!" he continued softer now. "But I am here, living and breathing. I knew you would stop, and I don't have any plans leaving you anytime soon."

They stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, Serana sighed and looked away. "I still think you shouldn't have done it, but thank you."

So they would agree to disagree. Whitland nodded. "You're welcome."

"Would you like some vegetable soup? No one else is going to eat it."

"Very much."

She gave him a bowl of the soup. He quickly began to eat, but realized three things; one the soup was cold, all the vegetables were still raw, and there wasn't any actual soup, it was just lukewarm water. He supposed a vampire never really had the need to learn how to cook, so he was touched by the effort and decided to eat it anyways. It was all edible. So he scooped up the vegetables and munched on them and the bowl was as good as any drinking cup.

Serana had watched him the whole time and seemed to be pleased that he ate it. "When do you think you'll be able to travel again?" she asked.

He thought about it. The food and water had already done loads for him, and all he had to do was be careful about not to make any sudden movements. He still had a splitting headache though, and was frequently attacked by waves of dizziness. Straining to see the sky from under the overhang, he found it was late in the afternoon and nearly evening.

"A night's rest then we can head out tomorrow." he tried to say confidently, but his body seemed to sag at the idea of moving so soon.

Serana looked like she was going to protest, but nodded. "Fine. You should probably rest then."

"Can I have my shirt back at least?"

Serana let her gaze rove over the length of his body in a way that sent chills down his spine and his heart to splutter. "No," she said in a low tone, "I think I like you like this." Then she gave him a smile that made his insides flutter.

He swallowed thickly and hopelessly tried to calm his racing heart, almost certain that she could hear it with her heightened senses. When her smile deepened, he knew she had just confirmed it. Failing to reply, he lied down on his side and could feel the amusement radiating off of her as he drifted off to sleep.

He was still asleep when something pressed against his chest. It was cold but oddly warm at the same time. He wrapped his arms around it before falling into an even deeper state of unconsciousness. Therefore he was unable to hear the small gasp of surprise that the 'something' made.