The Patient
By: Jeannie Ecklund 
March 2001 
I in no way intend to infringe on any one's rights. I am only
borrowing these characters for this story. I want to thank Joyce and
Grace two NNpackers who so graciously offered beta work on this
story.  Archive permission:  Permission to archive to Mel's FKFanfic
Archive, and the Forever Knight FTP site is granted.  All others must
ask permission.
Other stories can be found at:
http://www.geocities.com/gersknightlady/

The Patient (1/2)

An old nurse shuffled down the hall and entered Ward 14 to make her
rounds.  Her last one.  After tonight, she would retire and leave her
patients to someone else's care.  For thirty years, she tucked a
blanket here, caressed a cheek there.  Only the sound of the many
machines, which beeped, wheezed and clicked, indicated that these
people were alive.  This was a comatose patient ward in a huge
hospital facility.  She'd worked on many floors but this one was her
favorite.

She made her way to the special one, a patient who had arrived the
week Marge started at the hospital.  This patient was a mystery.  She
exhibited strong, consistent brain activity and breathed on her own. 
Marge called her Sleeping Beauty.  She had been placed in Ward 14
because no one knew what was wrong with her.  She seemed...locked in
suspended animation; her youthful appearance unchanged in thirty
years.

Marge gazed into the face of the beautiful woman.  Thick lashes lay
on pale, full cheeks.  Red lips graced her face, which was framed by
thick auburn hair, longer now after all this time. Marge checked over
the thick logbook and adjusted the controls of the stasis bed that
floated her patient about 2 inches above the actual surface of the
bed. There had been a lot of advancements in the 30 years since she'd
started working at the hospital.

No one knew Sleeping Beauty's real name.  She was a Jane Doe, a
victim of an accident or crime.  The patient's eyes moved back and
forth in sleep.  The old nurse wondered what she dreamed about.  The
machines supported tissue regeneration, even exercised her body's
muscles.  If Sleeping Beauty ever awoke, she might very well get up
and walk away.  At least she appeared to be that healthy.  Marge ran
a hand over the warm forehead and prayed again that her favorite
would wake.

Elsewhere:

As night fell, a young man appearing in his 30's shrugged into the
white lab coat. It was his fifth night on duty at the huge comatose
maintenance facility. It was another night in a seemingly endless
parade of nights.  This new job was one with which he might feel of
some use to people and yet he was protected from getting involved
with people, these people could not talk to him. It was a place to
hide, a place to blend into the night. He drove to work barely
noticing the warm beautiful evening. The night seemed to mock him
with its darkness. Lately that's all it was, a big dark hole in an
inescapable life. He parked and checked into the facility and walked
the silent white halls. They smelled of disinfectant and near-death.

The duty nurse looked up at him, "Mr. Nichols.  I'm glad you got
here on time tonight.  There's someone I wanted you to meet.  She
will take you on a tour of Ward 14.  She's a very special nurse and
knows more about this ward than anyone else here.  She's retiring
tonight and wanted to introduce you to her babies.  The black nurse
smiled and the young man felt a pang of nostalgia. Another face of a
smiling black woman drifted through his mind, one who had also worked
in a stark, antiseptic setting.  He shook the image away, not wanting
to remember her companion.

He heard a sound and turned to see a tiny, graying woman moving
slowly towards him. Though about 70 years old, her body was still
straight and her eyes twinkled with laughter.

She held out her hand, "I'm Marge."

"Nate Nichols," he said taking her hand.

She noticed how cool his hands were.  He had bad circulation for one
so young. He looked about 35 years old with his blond hair.  His blue
eyes, however, seemed to reflect the ages and a deep sadness.  He
stood unflinching under her wise gaze.  As Nate smiled down at her,
she saw a kindness about him.  With a smile of her own, Marge held
out a soft, thin hand and encouraged, "Come, I'll introduce you to my
babies."

They walked down to a hall to a Ward that housed 12 patients.  Men
and women, all silent.  Trapped in their own worlds, by accidents and
illnesses.  The machines hummed softly. Nate found the room restful
and relaxing.  He would enjoy this work.  His predecessor had
obviously put a lot of love into this room and its people.  He
noted...no ventilators.  These people...breathed on their own and
possessed a certain amount of brain activity.  It was rare, but
people did wake years after their commitments to this place.

Marge stepped to one patient, "This is George, he suffered a stroke.
He's been here four years.  His wife visits once a week."  Marge
continued to the next patient.  "This is Mary, car accident."  She
noted that Nate reached out to straighten and tuck a blanket and
check a dial. She saw him touch Mary's cheek with a finger.  Yes,
this young man would care for her babies.

"This is Sergio, skiing accident.  He left a wife and two babies at
home.  She comes every evening.  It's only been a couple months. 
This is Mark."  On and on Marge and Nate went from bed to bed.  She
told him stories, all sad and all heartbreaking.  The young man
listened, but did not let the stories affect his heart.  Nate vowed
again that he would care well for his patients, but remain detached.

Marge observed Nate's pallor as he seemed lost in thought.  Offhand,
she remarked, "I hear the beaches are beautiful this time of year. 
You should be out getting some sun."

He glanced at her. "I have an allergy to the sun. It makes me a
perfect night nurse," he stated carefully.

"Hiding from the world too, I bet," she thought to herself.

"A young man like you should be out raising a family.  Why are you
here, Nate?" Marge asked gently.  He was silent and she saw a grimace
pass over his face.

She reached out to touch his hand in comfort.  She saw his body
stiffen but he did not draw away.  "You've lost someone haven't you,
Son?"

He was going to brush her off but saw a genuine concern in her
expression.  Besides, she was leaving.  "Yes, years ago.  There is no
life without her, but this body just goes on," he replied softly.

She squeezed his cold hand with her warm, wrinkled one, "Come let me
introduce you to my most special patient.  I call her Sleeping
Beauty."

She was rewarded by a curious interested look.  "She came here
nearly 30 years ago.  No one knows what's wrong with her.  She
appears to be sleeping and dreaming.  She's a beauty, who never
ages."  She moved to her patient's side.

End Pt 1





The Patient (2/2)

Marge heard a sudden gasp from Nate.  She turned to see him looking
even more pale, if that was possible.  He reached out a hand to
steady himself.  His knees suddenly buckled and he went down.

"Nate! What's wrong?"

"No.  It can't be!" He whispered incredulously.

"I'll get help."  Marge turned to move with surprising speed.

"No," he called after her, "Please...I'm okay," as he struggled to
his feet.

Marge turned back to see Nate peering into Sleeping

Beauty's face.  He moved a trembling hand towards the sleeping
woman's face.

"You know her?"  Marge asked amazed.

The young man no longer heard nor saw Marge.

"Natalie?  Oh my God, Natalie!" his fingers touched the warm flesh
on her face.  He could hear that familiar heart beat now.  It had
been meshed by the sound of the machines and he hadn't even thought
to listen for it.

"Nate, how is it possible?  Is she your mother?"

"Fishermen pulled her out of the water.  She was glow amber and
blood tears streaked down his face.  She quickly realized that he was
not human.

"What!" She drew back, afraid.

Nate's body shuddered and he closed his eyes.  When they opened, the
eyes were back to a normal blue.  "Please don't be afraid."   He
turned back to study the patient's face.  He caressed it gently and
leaned to place a kiss on her forehead, then her lips.  "Natalie."

Not taking his eyes off the patient's face, he asked again, "What
did they say is wrong with her?  Please tell me what the doctors
said."

"You can't know her," she whispered again.

"Please tell me!"

She sighed. What could it hurt?  "Years ago, her blood was studied
by several specialists.  It has an extra_nucleotide_, in it. It seems
to keep her in suspended animation.  The nucleotide couldn't be
isolated.  After years of no progress on her case, the doctors moved
on and left her to sleep.  She was forgotten.  A few speculated it
was a change."

"A Change?"  Nate asked her.

"A change from what she was...into what she was supposed to become. 
There weren't enough of the nucleotides in her body to implement a
complete transformation.  As a result, she has remained in this
delicate, but static balance."

Marge watched as Nate took Sleeping Beauty's wrist in his hands,
bent close and somehow tore her wrist open with his teeth.  Blood
flowed from the wound.

Marge, horrified, turned to run away.

"Stop!" came a command that seemed to invade her body and mind.  She
could not move further away.  She turned back towards the creature.

Nate looked back at Marge.  His eyes glowed amber and the tips of
sharp white fangs rested on his lips.  Blood dripped on his chin. 
Despite his monstrous appearance, there was a look of desperate hope,
pain and love on Nate's face.

Marge continued to stare in awe as he brought his own wrist to his
mouth and tore it open with his fangs.  The blood dripped onto the
bed.  He took hold of Sleeping Beauty's wrist and pressed it to his
own.  The blood seemed to vanish, soaked up by the wound in her
patient's arm.

There was a sudden gasp from the Sleeping Beauty.  Then, the eyes
that had remained closed for so long opened.

Marge found herself able to move again and went astonished to her
patient's bedside.

Sleeping Beauty's large eyes looked into Nate's.  In a voice hoarse
with disuse, she whispered, "Nick?"

"Natalie," he choked out.  Leaning over her, he kissed her beautiful
face.  Blood tears splashed onto her.  They seemed to sparkle like
rubies for a moment and then vanished into the perfect pale skin.

"You're not human!  Are you...aliens?"  Marge asked.

Nate—no his name was Nick—said "No, Marge, not alien altered humans."

Marge reached out and pulled their wrists apart.  The skin was
healed, unblemished.

Natalie was growing stronger by the moment.  Her muscles seemed to
flesh out and become firm and strong. Her eyes took on the same
golden cast that Nick's displayed moments ago.

Nick seemed weaker and stumbled against the bed.

Marge said, "Nick, what's wrong?"

Natalie reached out to take his hand.  "Blood," she croaked.  "He
needs blood."

"Blood?"

Natalie's voice was getting stronger, "Blood, you have a supply here?"

"What type?" she asked already moving away.

"It doesn't matter. Just get it!"

Marge heard the urgency in her patient's tone.  She hurried to a
refrigeration unit in a closet and returned with two units of blood.

Nick snatched one away, sank his fangs into the plastic pouch and
drained the bag dry.

Marge shuddered, but watched, fascinated.  Something occurred to
her.  "You're Vampires."

"Yes," Natalie said, trying to assimilate the information as well.

Nick appeared to have regained his strength and was now trying to
disengage the tubes and machines from Natalie.

Marge removed the IV line and started to unhook the other machines. 
She pushed a diagnostic button to simulate normal readings so as to
not alert anyone at the outside desk.  She turned off the stasis
field and Natalie's body came to rest on the bed.

Nick helped Natalie sit and drew her into his arms.  Sighing with
pleasure, he exclaimed, "I thought I lost you years ago.  I never
imagined!"  He began to kiss her deeply.

Natalie was astonished, pleased and confused.  When they drew apart,
she asked, "Years?"

"It has been 30 years since the night at the loft. Thirty agonizing
years without you."

Natalie searched his face and the memories they had shared through
the blood exchange.  She knew it was true.  She caressed his
beautiful face; eyes were now the deep blue she remembered, his fangs
retracted.

Marge stood back and cried.  Tears of relief for her Sleeping
Beauty, tears of thankfulness for closure on this job.  Tears of joy
for love reawakened and made alive here before her.  It no longer
mattered what these two were.  What mattered was the love and
happiness that filled the room.

Natalie, with Nick's help, hopped from the bed.  Nick picked her up
and began swinging her around with a whoop of joy.  Natalie was
suddenly aware of a draft.  She pulled back from Nick's embrace and
looked behind her.  Marge saw her blush and was surprised to see
Nick's growing look of embarrassment.

Marge suddenly realized that the couple had never been intimate
together.  There was none of the comfort that long-married couples
shared.  Their emotions were charged, the sexual tension high.  What
ever had happened at the "Loft" has stopped their relationship short.

Marge went to the closet and returned with a pant uniform. "It was
Kathie's."  She moved recently and left it behind. I think it's about
your size.

Natalie took the uniform gratefully.  Nick turned away as she
quickly threw the hospital gown aside and dressed.

Natalie smiled at Marge. "Thank you, Marge.  Thanks for all of it. 
Your voice and the touch of your hands are so familiar to me.   Thank
you for all your care.

Natalie moved to hug the old woman, but Nick pulled his love gently
back.  "No Nat, you're not ready to be that close to a human.

Nat looked up at him and nodded.  She reached for Marge's hand and
gently squeezed before stepping further away.

Nick asked, "Marge, can we have some more blood?

Natalie must feed."

Marge nodded and fetched more supplies.  She watched the new vampire
feed for the first time.  The look of pleasure on her former
patient's face made Marge envy the future of this young woman.

Nick quickly interrupted her thoughts.  "Marge, we must get out of
here.  No one can see Natalie.  They would have too many questions. 
Questions that cannot be answered.  No one must know what we are."

Marge smiled at the apparently young couple.  That's what they
seemed to her, though obviously Nick was a great deal older.  How
much older?   She couldn't begin to guess.

"Come," she said, "We can go out the back."

They made their way down the silent hall, stopping only once to duck
into a door as a nurse passed.

Finally, Marge opened a door and a warm breeze caressed them.  They
stepped outside and Nick hugged the old woman to him, "Thank you
Marge.  How are you going to explain your missing patient?"

"I'm not.  You're going to put me to sleep here and I won't have a
memory of this when I wake.  Vampires can do that sort of thing,
right?"

Nick smiled.  "I could do that, but I won't take your memories.  You
have taken care of Natalie all these years and I am grateful."

Natalie briefly kissed the woman's soft velvet cheek.

"Thank you."

Nick held Natalie close and then bent pick her up.

Looking into Marge's eyes he said, "Sleep."

As the couple flew away, Marge slumped down on the step and smiled
as she slipped into a deep sleep.



The end