Dog Fights

Chapter 17; Recovery

Although he was told not to, Ezra apologized for nearly bleeding out in the car.

Of course he wouldn't have died, but the screaming all the way back to S1 must have been obnoxious. Why couldn't the guy have just threw a silver cross at him? Even if it would have embedded itself into his forehead it would have hurt less than this.

He wouldn't let them put him under. Not to stop the burning, not to take out the bullet, not to stop the sobbing and crying. Luckily by the time they got back the bullet was almost halfway out, having been pushed through its entrance tunnel by his healing body alone.

By the time Amelia, she was the only one Ezra would let come near him with any form of sharp object, had taken out the bullet, the ones pinning him in place on the metal cot had been covered in bruises and scratches. He never tried to hurt them, but the pain that accompanied the silver object and having it dug out proved to be stronger than the self control he had left.

And after that they tried and tried to feed him, as the wound in his abdomen kept reopening while trying to heal, but he could only stomach so much. He grew genuinely fearful of throwing up, knowing the action of his contracting muscles would send a new flare of pain through his body. They knew one person who could possible help.

"Ezra?" the frail voice asks, making the vampire roll his head tiredly to the door of the infirmary room he was staying in. Leon's grandmother waits in the doorframe, smiling warmly as he opens his eyes a little more than he had them before.

"Oh, poor babe," she says quietly, walking into the room as if afraid to make excess noise, "what did they do to you?"

"Shot me," Ezra says weakly, not being able to help pulling the corners of his mouth into a smile. The woman laughs quietly, standing beside the bed and patting the top of his hand.

Ezra watches the grandmother as she digs through her suitcase of a handbag, and in the gentle quietness of the room finally takes notice to features he's never looked at before. Even with her tied back grey hair and aging skin, he can still see the resemblance she had passed down to Lora and then Leon. All three generations hold the same warm personality and understanding, making the vampire feel accepted and welcome- even if others tend not to favor him.

Ezra tilts his nose up half an inch, catching a familiar scent as the woman pulls something out of her navy blue bag. He sighs as deeply as he dares.

"Leon," Ezra calls, loud enough to carry across the room yet quiet enough as to not strain him. He knew he had caught the smell of the human, but just didn't know where.

Leon slowly steps around the wall and into the doorframe, eyeing the room nervously before finally catching sight of the vampire. It takes a moment before Ezra guesses the human hadn't gotten the entire story, and didn't even know the full extent of what had happened.

"Ezra?" he asks quietly, stepping to the side of the bed as Ezra pushes himself into sitting a little straighter. His back pops as he settles against the pillow behind him, waiting a moment for the dark spots to disperse from the edges of his vision before looking up to the younger.

Leon hesitates before reaching up and touching Ezra's pale grey face. All the color he had built up was drained yet again.

"I thought I told you to be careful," he whispers, giving a small smile as Ezra grins tiredly, "I didn't think that meant almost getting killed."

"Silver won't kill me," Ezra says, grabbing Leon's hand and pulling it down from his face. He doesn't let go as the woman behind them leans on the dresser. At least it's her and not anyone else. "I guess that doesn't mean the bullet didn't do some damage though."