Melissa had slept a fitful sleep, waking up sporadically during the day. Her condition had worsened. Matt had done nothing but watched her, because he could do nothing but watch. Being hit by the car had done more damage that he originally thought. And Melissa was going to die. Once again, there was nothing he could do at all, but watch her die. Briefly, he had entertained the thought of taking her to a hospital, but then there would be the matter of explaining the blood loss, the car accident that he knew almost nothing about, as well as why he had left her for so long. Melissa hadn't spoken, but occasionally looked at him and flashed a short, painful smile. She tried to block out the pain of her organs not functioning and think of Matt, and why he had stayed. Surely he must need her too. He had to. If not, why had he found her, why had he stayed, why was he sitting right beside her? No, he had to need her, simply because Melissa couldn't think of any other reasons. Her thinking strayed from Matt, to the pool of blood beside her on the pillow. She coughed, producing more, and tried to sit up. Matt rushed over, and saw flecks of blood on her lips, dripping down her chin, soaking into the once white pillow. As he gently sat her up, he knew there was nothing more he could do - expect one thing he dreaded.

"Melissa? I hope to whatever gods are listening that you can hear me." Matt looked intently into eyes he wasn't sure saw him, or anything, trying to see some sign of recognition. She blinked, and that was good enough. "Melissa, listen to me okay? You're losing too much blood, and I don’t know what to do. But, I have to ask you something. Listen good, okay?" He stared intently, frantically at her, and she weakly nodded. "Okay, I have to give you my blood…" He heard a small noise from her throat rise in protest. "Shhh, don't worry, its not enough to turn you, but you need it, because you've lost too much. But I had to ask you first, and I need you to want this, because if not, then I don't want to do it." There was an edge of fear in his voice, and he tried to be confident. But Matt didn't know if it would work at all. "So, Melissa, please, tell me you're okay with this, because I don't want to see you die at my hands, not now." Her eyes were clenched shut as she coughed again, spewing blackish blood on the orange sheets. When Melissa opened her eyes again, they were clear, and settled, with an air of confidence. Mustering up the last bit of strength left in her, she spoke aloud.

"Yes." Was all she could say, as Matt sighed with relief, and fear. He was worried for her. He'd never seen it done, didn't know if it could be done.

"Good, good Melissa. Stay calm, okay? I don’t know if this is going to work, I don’t know how to start…" He thought for a second, then drew his wrist to his mouth, and pierced the flesh. Before pressing it to her lips, he laid Melissa down again, away from the blood stains on the bedsheets and pillow, near the end of the bed, where it was clean. He had sure she was as relaxed as she could be in her fragile state, and held his wrist just over her mouth for a second, doubting himself briefly, before pressing it down to her lips. She welcomed Matt's blood, anything for relief, for healing, and drank watching his face. Matt had closed his eyes, appearing peaceful almost, trying to gauge when she had had enough. But he slowly became entranced by the act of someone feeding on him. It had only happened once before, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should be paying attention, but was too lost in the intimacy of the act. Only the dizzying, light-headed feeling that he experienced brought him back and slightly grounded him, when Matt realised she had too much. Melissa was still sucking hungrily on his wrist, trying to draw every last drop of blood out of him, when he pulled away, and collapsed on the bed next to her. She now had more than enough blood into her, almost enough to make her turn.