Blood Is Thicker (Minewet Vampire/Bloodslave AU)

Chapter 11|Part 1

"Shit! Newt!"

Minho swore loudly as his eyes went wide at the sight. He leapt from his chair, quickly going to Newt's side. He grabbed a cloth and wet it, then placed it on the back of Newt's neck to hopefully cool him down so he would stop vomiting.

The blond only threw up for 5 seconds or so though. After that he panted and coughed vigorously, gasping in breaths but still wheezing like he couldn't breathe.

Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. Minho had never seen this happen during someone's Changing and he was more worried than he had ever been in his life.

Newt's eyes slowly shut as he lay there, still leaning over the bed and trying to get a clear breath but failing. And after a short moment, Newt slowly laid back on his back again with a groan, beginning to tremble again and still fighting for air.

Minho re-wet the cloth and began rubbing it over the boy's face, only hoping it was helping. But as he stood over him, gently trying to assist, Newt's gaze very slowly went over to the vampire.

His eyes made him look like he wasn't totally there, as though he were looking straight through Minho and a million worlds away. The Slayer was wan and so miserable looking. He winced a little and gripped just below his chest and at the start of his abdomen, then just barely managed to rasp, "...Min...ho.....It.....h-hurts..."

Minho's heart twisted and wanted to sink away into his stomach as he looked at Newt sorrowfully. And the one thing that kept playing over and over in his head was that this was his fault. He did this. Newt was in so much pain and suffering because of him. And right now, he had no idea how to fix it.

"....J-Just....hang in there....please....You can fight this, I know you can...." He responded quietly and gingerly reached over to run his finger's through Newt's hair and brush it out of his face.

The ailing male moaned and closed his eyes, turning his head away from Minho again.

Minho kept dipping the cloth in the freezing water whenever Newt's warmth would make it lose its coolness from his heat, and then he pulled out his phone from his back pocket as an idea sparked.

He dialed the only number he had that he knew could help, then waited as it rang. "Come on, shank pick up..." He mumbled after the 4th ring.

Finally the other line picked up. "Yeah?"

"Alby..!" Minho almost exclaimed.

"That's my name, slinthead, don't wear it out."

"Alby...I need your help."

"My help? With what? What's going on?"

"It's a long story, and I can explain to you later. Hey, you said you have a bloodslave that used to be a medic for Slayers right?"

"Um...yeah?"

"I need you to come over, and I need you bring him. Like quick, please."

"Why? Minho, tell me what's going on."

"I-" Minho sighed in frustration, "Alby, please, you know I wouldn't ask for your help unless I really needed it. I'll explain everything when you get here, okay?"

There was a silence, then he heard Alby sigh as well, "Fine. I'll be there in half an hour."

Minho let out a breath of relief, "Great, thanks." Then he hung up and shoved his phone back in his pocket. He reached down and wet the cloth again, wrung it out, and ran it gently over Newt's chest. His hand moved with every quick, inconsistent breath Newt painfully struggled for as it ran over the blond's chest. And it made Minho frown softly, "You're gonna make it, Newt..." He said, mostly to himself, "....I'm not gonna let you go....I promise...."