Morose paced into the room and the doctor reveiwing Jex's chart immediatly placed the chart on it's rack. He made an entire semi-circle around Morose, pointedly staying out of his rech as he left and closed the door behind him. They tended to do that now. Stay out of his reach, even though he's not once lay a hand on them, and even though he can move faster then any of them can actually see. Morose looked at him, watched him leave without breaking his step. It seemed that he wasn't slouching as he walked, instead of the usual slouch he was walking confidently with his shoulders straight, his back straight, at his full height. He looked stronger, despit that he's skinny.

Today he wore his usual pants, red seams, a red fishnet shirt under a form fiting nylon shirt, and he carried a black work out bag at his side. His face was scrubbed clean of makeup, his eyes shinning bluer then was usual. While still holding that painful sadness there was some ounce of happiness. As days went by he'd grown more and more hopeful for Jex, happier that he was getting out today.

He stood beside Jex's bed and smiled down at his friend, sitting the duffle in the chair beside the bed. Somewhere in the distance of his senses, Morose could feel Jex, that now firmilar sensation that was always with him. It was like he was more aware of him. He reached out and touched his hand and the sensation grew.

Jex swam through his mind back to consciousness and opened his eyes to a very familiar figure. It seemed that every time he woke there was someone hovering over him. Sometimes it was more than one person but Morose was pretty much always the person he woke up to. He didn't like that he had needles stuck in him and blood taken or that he couldn't speak properly, but Morose had always stuck by him which made things more bearable.

He was moved from the ICU a week or two ago. He couldn't remember, but since then time was spent healing, eating and sleeping with not much in between. He was finally given a clean bill of health and the OK to leave. He was going home.

Jex closed his fingers around Morose and began to sit himself up in bed. He looked about as good as someone stuck in a hospital can. His hair hadn't really been washed in a while and it looked less than perfect. All over his body were hundreds of scars where the thorns had bit into his skin. His chest had healed from where Logan's nails ripped into it. His neck, however, was an ugly mass of scar tissue. It wasn't surprising that he couldn't use his voice properly.

The police were investigating on animal attacks. Apparantly, there was another patient in the hospital with similar bite marks but in a much worse condition. Jex was thankful to not have been him.

He looked at the duffel and wondered if those were his clothes. Oh he couldn't believe it. He was finally going home!

"Hey." Morose spoke in a soft voice. What is it about hospitals that always makes one want to speak in low tones? One of the doctors, in fact, Jex's Suergon, had aranged it so that Morose would be taking Jex home at night rather then during the day. Most of the staff didn't ask questions since the people that had frequinted Jex's room either knew what Morose was or sensed the other doctors fears and in return feared him without knowing why. "I'm taking you home tonight."

His flesh was just a little flushed, warm to the touch. He'd fed, very recently. In fact, it's the first time he's fed in a long time. He'd gone to the slaughter house before coming. He knew Jex would be happy that he'd fed, which is why he'd done it. He let go of Jex's hand and unzipped the duffle, pulling out a pair of blue jean pants, dark blue, with that brand new look. He'd bought Jex new clothes. He'd also called into his work and told them he wouldn't be coming because he'd just gotten out of the hospital. He wouldn't be coming for a month. Morose wanted him to rest.

"Here. Can you put them on or do you need me to help?"

Jex's mood lifted a bit more (if that was possible) when he felt the warm skin. If he'd known that Morose did it just for him, he'd have been even more blessed. But he didn't, and he was happy enough anyway.

He reached out a hand and took the clothes gingerly. That reminded him, a physical therapist wanted to come by and work his stiff muscles for a while..he didn't know when she'd be coming, either. Perhaps that was something to work out at the front desk?

He shook his head at Morose's question. He didn't want to feel completely helpless. After all, if he was healthy enough to get out of the damn hospital, he wanted to be well enough to dress himself.

He tried to speak and when he did, it came out in a hoarse and rough whisper, "I think I can manage.." Jex trailed off, not liking the sound he made. It was completely foreign, not sounding like himself at all.

Morose loved the sound he made. It showed with his blue eyes glittering, shining like potential tears. He looked proud. Considering that he knew that the chances of Jex's speaking again had been extremly slim, he was going to be more pleased then Jex. Especially since Jex didn't know he'd almost not been able to talk again.

He nodded and stepped back away from the bed, turning his back so that Jex could get the pants on, while he busied himself with pulling a soft, black polo shirt from the duffle.

"How are you feeling?"

Because now he's rearing to interogate Jex about who did this. He knew it'd been no animal, he'd seen human foot prints. He'd been harassing the cops more then he had the doctors here.

They were ready to stick him in a cell just to get him out of their hair/

He slipped into the jeans, mentally cursing hospital gowns and their damn drafty-ness. He guessed that since Morose seemed to have forgotten to buy boxers that he'd be going commando. Oh well, at least he was covered.

"Stiff," he said in the gruff, quiet whisper, "but better."

He'd been glad he hadn't been interrogated yet. He'd been avoiding thinking about the entire thing since he first woke up. He didn't want to relive those memories. More over, he didn't want to go back to those times and blame Morose for not being there. If he thought about it, Logan's taunts would be ringing in his head again.

He sat on the bed, waiting for the shirt but not being impatient.

Jex wouldn't have to worry about blaming Morose. He was already blaming himself, and not only mentally. He'd shouted about it in the silence of their apartment, taken it out on himself, freaking out to the police about not having been there to help, he'd even found ENyo and told her.

He'd forgotten boxers because, frankly with his baggy pants, he didn't need them. He'd not remembered because he didn't usually have to. Poor Jex. He'd get over it, they were going straight home.

The ziiip of the pants told Morose he was dressed and her turned and handed him the polo shirt.

A doctor came in, paused at the door, hesitated for a long moment, then finally came in, avoiding Morose. He carried a brown paper bag which he spilled to contents on the end of the bed.

"This is his medication he'll need. This he takes twice a day, this he takes once a day but not on an empty stomach. This'll help you sleep, take it an hour before going to bed."

He indicated the bottles.

Jex looked at all the medicine with wide eyes. He didn't even bother to ask what everything was for, he knew he'd get confused anyway.

He would be very upset if he knew Morose blamed himself. If he found out, Jex would remind Morose that he had been the one to leave and ask to not be bothered. Morose was only abiding by his wishes. Jex felt very stupid now for making such a big deal out of everything that he did. He knew now that it didn't matter. That Morose was Morose no matter what and something as stupid as a species change wouldn't effect that. Jex now understood and they would deal with any difficulties as they approached them.

Jex cleared his throat (or tried to, it was still somewhat painful) and adressed the doctor.

"What about the physical therapist? She'd said I needed more sessions..?"

Oh dear. I hope Jex didn't frighten the doctor with his new voice.

Actually, the docotr was accustomed to such changs in people, especially after they'd been asleep and hadn't used their vocal cords for a long time. He stuffed the medication back into the bad, his hands trembling just slightly. He looked at his watch, his eyes flicked to Morose. He really wanted out of here.

Morose really didn't care.

"I...could give you a number to call and set up appointments."

Morose turned his back, busying himself with pulling out a pair of white socks and black sneakers, setting them on the floor side by side. He was still utterly glowing at having Jex awake and well.

Jex nodded to the doctor who began to scribble down the number and name on a prescription pad from his pocket.

Jex took the socks and shoes, slipping them on and the giddy feeling grew in his chest. His shoes were tied, his clothes were on and he was ready to go. All that was left to do was stand up. He pushed himself off the bed, stood on his own to feet and took a step.

His head filled with a lightening sensation and black dots began to cloud his vision. He took a step back and sat back down on the bed. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried to get up so suddenly...

Morose's hand had darted out and stopped just short of grabbing Jex's arm and holding him steady. He stopped himself because Jex was sitting back down on his own. He stepped closer.

"Are you alright?"

"He will be lightheaded for a day or two. He's been lying flat for days."

Morose looked at the doctor, whose eyes flicked away, then looked back at Jex.

"D'you wanna try again or would you like me to get a wheelchair and I'll push you to the cab."

That's right, he had a cab waiting. He'd obviously come in here with the intentions of immediatly taking Jex home without dicking around through doctors. He'd filled out the forms before coming to get Jex.

For a second it was difficult to hear, but it passed by quickly enough. Jex was feeling weak. When he first woke up and got ready, he'd been full of energy, now he felt like lead had been attatched to his limbs.

He nodded again because he didn't want to hear his voice. He didn't trust his legs yet.

He looked at the doctor. "Go get a wheel chair."

It wasn't a request, not even a please added to the end but the doctor went anyways. This was a nurses job but the doctor was going to do it because he'd been told to. Morose picked up the medication and stuffed it into the empty duffel bag.

The doctor returned, wheeling the chair.

"Thanks."

A nod, then he turned on his heels and left quickly. Morose held out his huge hand to Jex, ready to help him into the chair.

He took hold of Morose's hand (it dwarfed his own) and eased into the chair. He closed his eyes and leaned back, surprised that he was so tired after just waking up.

"I can't believe I'm still so tired.." He voice still crackled, so it was clear it wasn't just from the hoarseness of sleep. It would probably sound like that for a while and that didn't bless Jex. Of course, he should be more thankful, he could not be able to speak at all.

Morose handed Jex the duffle bag to hold and began to wheel the chair out of the hospital room.

"Your weak. It'll take a while to get your strength back."

Morose could feel, no more like sense, that Jex was not pleased with his voice at all and he couldn't keep the faint smile from his lips. How pleased he himself really was.

"The doctors said you may have never been able to talk again. That would have been awful." The smile faded. "It's so wonderful to hear you talking." They were moving down the hall towards an elevator, he knew how Jex felt about elevators but really there was no other way.

Really? He hadn't realized it was that bad. Then again, it's difficult to realize anything when you're doped up with pain killers. He took the bag and closed his eyes as they got onto the elevator. It was both to ward off the fear and because he was dog tired.

"How've you been?"

He was in and out of it during his stay at the hospital, he didn't have much conversation with Morose at all during that time. How was his friend doing?

Actually, he'd had hardly a word with Morose. Most of the time it consisted of Jex sleeping while Morose sat and watched the up and down scroll and listened to the constant beep of the heart monitor and holding Jex's dead hand. It had felt so dead. He couldn't think of himself as dead any more because he wasn't limp, wasn't silent, wasn't motionless. Was that why they would call him undead? Living dead? Morose had taken to calling himself the animated dead.

"Worried."

Truthful.

"I...uh...met Enyo."

Techniqually he'd hunted her down.

His chin began to sag to his chest and then suddenly, he jerked his head up in attempt to keep awake.

"You were worried? Sorry.." Well of course he was worried...Jex's rational thinking wasn't kicking in yet..

"Oh, are you two on speaking terms again?" Once again, he snapped his head up to evade sleep.

"Yes," but he didn't go into detail about what had happened, what he'd come to realize. He was watching Jex attempt to remain awake as he rolled out the door and towards the awaiting Taxie. He stopped as the cabbie got out to open the door for him.

"Go to sleep Jex."

He lifted Jex out of the wheel chair with more ease then should have been possible and slide him into the back seat. He told the driver to wait, returned the chair, then came back and got in beside Jex, reaching out and touching his had. He gave the address.

Jex slept all through the ride home.

It was something they'd have to get used to. While his body was healing, Jex would be sleeping much more often than normal. That would mean more work on Morose's part if Jex ever needed it.

Of course, Jex should understand by now that Morose would be willing to do nearly anything at all for him. When the Cab stopped at the curb, Morose threw a wad of money over the back seat and got out, put the duffle bag in one hand and leaned in to pick Jex up.

He carried him up the steps, then up the inner stairs like a baby, fumbling to unlock the door. In the bedroom, he lay him down on the only remaining matress and started untieing his shoes and pulling them off his feet. He went to find a blanket.

Jex would be surpsised to find that Morose still hadn't purchased another matress. Sure, it wasn't really an immediate need seeing as there was a couch and Jex hadn't been home, but it was sort of symbolic. With one matress it looked like only one person lived there.

When he was set down, Jex began to stir and wake. It was slow and he took a second to gather his bearings. He was back home again and he'd missed getting there. He sat up on the matress and looked around the room. It hadn't changed much. That was good.

No. It didn't indicate that only one person lived there. It showed that only one person slept there. Morose had not slept much since he'd bitten Jex, in fact, he'd slept twice the entire time he'd been i the hospital, and that had been sitting up in a chair. And the nightmares had come even then.

He returned to the room holding a laundry basket full of cloths, towls, and two blankets and dropped the basket, unfolding the blanket.

"Did I wake you?" His forhead creased into a deep self-disapproving from. He'd be very upset if it was his fault that Jex's rest was cut short.

"No, I just woke up.."

Well...Morose didn't seem too worse for the wear. If he knew about the continued nightmares, Jex would have formed another opinion. He'd be worried.

"How long have I been out?"

As I've said before, Jex has no concept of the passage of time at all.

"Only half of the hour. Just the ride home really."

He unfolded the blanket and walked around the side of the bed, pulling the cover over Jex's body and folding it back to his waist. He then crouched down beside the matress, his feet on the floor, butt hovering over the ground with his arms wrapped around his knees. What balance! Probably another vampire thing.

"Do you need the medication to help you sleep? I've called the hospital and told they you won't be working for a while."

Jex chuckled and realized that they were back into their old routine of Morose being the parent. Jex hadn't accomplished a lot (in his opinion) by way of getting Morose into top health. It was nice, though, the familiarity.

"I don't remember, what did the doctor say?"

He reached for the brown bag to look through his medications. Eh, there were too many of them. He couldn't tell them apart.

Morose took the bag out of Jex's hand and dumped the bottles onto the matress by Jex's leg, one arm still holding his legs. Maybe that's what was keeping him blanaced.

"This one. You take to help you sleep if your hurting."

He picked up three of the four bottles, stood gracfully and set them in a row on the only dresser in the room. Then he returend to the matress and squat down again.

He, personally, considered all of Jex's help great. After all, he was starting to learn to use his power and learn how to not suffer because he isn't eating and sleeping.

"Do I need food with it?"

And that was all he was really thinking. He watched Morose walk around the room and looked at him as he squated down next to him again.

"Not absolutly for this one but you probably should try to eat something."

He picked up the bottle and began to read the label, holding the bottle between two fingers and mostly thinking about how Jex really should be sleeping right now. It was important that Jex get better, it was important that he tell Morose who did this to him.

One might need to consider if there is actually anything edible in the apartment. With Jex being gone and Morose not needing anything, it might have slipped his mind.

"So what have we got? Peanut butter and Jelly?"

Anything seemed good after hospital food and the attack was the last thing on his mind.

"Um." He frowned. He usually checked the fridge to be sure Jex had food, he hadn't recently. He stood up again. "Let me go see."

He went to the kitchen and started hunting. Bread, cheese, a rotting apple, several cans of soup, and a half a jug of water. He came back and told Jex.

"I'll make you soup?" He suggested. "And While you sleep I'll go get you some better food."

"Ok, sounds good."

Surely he had a book or something around here? Something to help his eyes droop or numb his mind for a bit? Jex searched the room and managed to find a magazine. Eh, it was good enough.

They didn't have amny books, or magazines, because neither of them were often in the apartment long enough to read. Morose made a mental note to buy some books while he was out, and maybe a few magazines and possibly even an old throw away television. After all, if Jex is going to be resting, he ought to have something to do.

"Fine."

He got up and went to the kitchen. After a while he returned holding a big coffee mug bowl like thing and a spoon. He knelt down and put it on the floor beside the Matress.

He sniffed the soup, his stomach grumbling already. Potatoe. He liked potatoe soup. And for some reason, it always tasted better to him coming from a coffee mug. He was strange like that.

And he only needed a good, thick book or two. He got along fine without television.

Morose hadn't known it was what he'd liked, or that it should be in a mug not a bowel, he'd just served it the way he would have liked it. At any rate, he got a couple of folded towels and put then under Jex's pillow to prop it up some.

"I'm going to the store now. Any special request?"

He would have said don't move around too much but he didn't want to seem smothering.

He blew and sipped at his soup, making himself comfortable where he was probably going to be staying for the next month.

"Strawberry jam. And pretzels?" Odd, but he liked those.

He nodded and left.

Morose came back nearly two hours later carrying three brown grocery bags and a plastic bag with Jacobson's label on it. He'd gotten five different books, Science Fiction, Fiction, Non-fiction, mystry, and a philosephy book. He read the backs to make sure they'd be somewhat interesting but other then that, they'd been picked at random.

He began putting away groceries and picked up the bad of pretzles and the books and silently, too silently, went to the bedroom to check on Jex.

Jex was curled up on the matress, the blanket tucked tightly around him and the mug of soup was empty next to it. Once he'd eaten and taken the pills he needed, he went right back to sleep. It was probably going to be like this for a little while longer.

Morose walked to the dresser and shuffled around, finding a pen and paper and wrote a note for Jex, in case he woke up. He took the books out of the bag and set them by the bed, the note ontop of them. He took the mug and left the room. He washed the mug, then sat down on the sofa with one of the books he'd bought.

He'd only left the note incase he left.

Just gone out. Food in the fridge. Back before Sunrise. Don't go anywhere.

Ok. He could be overbearing in a note, just not in person. Morose pulled a blanket around his arms and torso and settled down for a while.