Marc tried to understand. He just couldn't. It was impossible to get through is head. Eventually he stopped moving and just rubbed his fingers along the bloodstone and obsidian around his neck. "Damn it... That's how they show their love? Stabbing you and dumping you in the bushes? If you didn't bleed out first you would've probably drowned in the rainfall. If that's how they show their love I don't think I'd like to see them angry."

Then there was that name. Moretti. He knew that name. Of course, who hadn't? A dangerous family, but no one knew they were vampires. Full blooded vampires, too. Was Luca... a bastard child, or illegitimate? He didn't ask---didn't want to stir the pot more than it already was. "Fine, I won't stop you, but it sounds like the stupidest damn idea I've ever heard. Even if I do want to come with you..." He stood and shook his head, sending his hair wild. "I'll go... uh, yeah, well, you'll probably need blood now." He looked down at his bandaged wrist. The wound had almost closed by now, so no doubt it was because of Luca. If anything, he could ask Luca to lend a hand---or tongue---after he was done.

Luca understood, finally, why Marc thought it was a bad idea. Had he seen the people that had dumped him? Were they even from his family or just some stiffs that worked for his father... Or his uncle. Maybe everything that happened had been some ploy to get him away from his father. The man had been told to kill Luca when he was younger, but he had loved his son too much. Now his family was finally getting rid of Luca. "My brother had something to do with it... I'm sure... He... Never approved... I was the heir and he didn't like that..." Maybe his 'uncle' was an assassin sent to kill Luca.

"I don't need... I'm not in need of your blood right now..." Luca said, shaking his head. "I... Well... I'd like a drink of something stronger... Have you got wine...?" He didn't know if it was a good idea to be drinking hard liquor after his injury, but he was craving alcohol.

He was glad he paused at the door; turning, Marc leaned against the jamb and pocketed his hands. "Family can hate each other. It's not rare, I mean. I have a few bad apples in my family and they come around... more often than the rest of us would like. But if you want to go back, you can, and I'm going with you whether you want me to or not. Maybe your father will know. Maybe he didn't want it to happen. But... you should be prepared for anything..." If his father were behind it, what would Luca say? Or do? He seemed to love his father very much.

Taking a step forward, Marc shrugged. "I have wine, yeah. A few different kinds... I try not to lean toward stronger stuff because I could be on call at the hospital at any given time. D'you want to try to come downstairs? I can find a way to get you out of this room... you're not exactly heavy." He added with a bit of a smile. He'd carried Luca quite a bit in their short acquaintance, after all.

Luca thought for a moment, trying to move his legs. It would be a good idea to get out of bed if he had been sleeping for two days, but he didn't have the strength to walk on his own. He hated the idea of being carried about the place. It made him feel useless and lazy. "I should get out of bed, yes... But are you sure you can support me? You don't mind? I'll walk as far as I can on my own..."

He pulled the blankets back and moved to the edge of the bed with a huge amount of effort, placing his bare feet on the ground. He tried to get up on his own, but had to ask for Marc's hand so he could stand. His lower abdomen ached where his wound was, but he could feel it had already healed somewhat. "Do you often help vampires?" he asked with a laugh.

Marc grasped Luca's hand and pulled gently, helping him straighten up. It was against what he'd tell anyone else to do after being stabbed and stitched up at the home of their doctor, but Luca was a special circumstance. He was probably somewhat healed now, but it didn't mean he wasn't in any less pain. Walking was a good idea, nonetheless. He grasped Luca under the arm and helped him to the door, returning the small laugh. "Well, I don't discriminate." He said. "I've helped a vampire on one other date... But it wasn't quite as life-threatening as your situation." He was glad to see Luca made it to the hall. "Okay, we got some stairs. You think you can handle it?"

Luca was interested in his saviour's story. Who was this vampire? Were they lovers? He hadn't heard of a vampire falling for a mortal before, outside his own father of course. As he hobbled into the hall, the stitches on his wound tightened and made him gasp for air. The exercise was good for his cramped body, but it still hurt. "Stairs... OK, I can do this." He adjusted himself so Marc wouldn't be uncomfortable, struggling to the stairs and starting down them slowly.

He stumbled only once, but didn't fall, making it down to the bottom floor without any more hassle. "Where is your living room?" he asked, trying to orient himself in his new surroundings. "I'd like to sit by a fireplace... I feel a little cold."

Marc went first, down one more stair than Luca, and kept him from having access to all the stairs in case he decided to fall without warning. His breath caught once when Luca seemed about to go tumbling, until they made it to the hallway. There was an archway that led to the living room and a door at the back of the staircase that led to the kitchen, past the dining room. "Here." He said easily, leading the half-vampire into the soft-carpeted living room and to one of the soft armchairs beside the dark fireplace. "I was actually about to light one since it gets a bit cool in these old brownstones this time of year." He grasped Luca's hands to lower him rather than let him fall, then straightened up.

"Do you have any preferred type of wine?" He asked, dusting himself free of the extra wrinkles in his shirt. "I probably have it, whatever it is..." He laughed a bit, sheepishly glancing back to where the kitchen was. Since he didn't have a basement he couldn't store his collection downstairs anymore than he already had.

Luca sighed when placed in the comfortable chair, glancing about the new room. Marc had distinguished tastes, but kept the design simple. He liked it. "I'll have anything red, really. As long as it isn't some store-brand concoction from a box." He wondered if Marc had wine from certain years, but decided against asking. He watched the dark fireplace, shuddering slightly. He must have caught a cold from the rain.

"I'm sorry I am still so useless... I would help you light the fire and pour the wine if I could..." He smiled weakly, hugging himself in a vain attempt to keep warm.

Marc laughed, shaking his head as he stepped around to the fireplace and pulled a starter log from the iron basket beside the fireplace, tossing it into the half-burned logs that would relight. "Don't worry about that." He said with an assured nod as he picked up a box of matches from the mantle and struck one, pausing to breathe in the smell before holding the flame to either end of the starter log. "I wouldn't dare think about something from a box." The idea made him shiver, but the fire was coming together well. It was already growing.

"Don't worry about being useless." Marc bent over the chair and squinted at a lint in Luca's jet-black hair, pulling it out. He'd brushed that hair twice a day for the two solid days he'd been out. "I wouldn't ask any of my usual patients to go running laps for me after I sewed them up, and that's the same for you. I'll be right back." He looked like he could use a blanket too, but Marc took one step at a time, going to his pantry to pick a bottle at random just to surprise himself.

Luca shuddered, watching the fire slowly eat the wood provided. Soon he could feel the warmth washing over him. He smiled and closed his eyes, relaxing. He thought about what had happened, trying to piece together the events that led up to his stabbing. But it was impossible. He didn't know who the man with the black hair was. He instead focussed on the sounds of Marc in the kitchen. He had the impeccable hearing of a vampire, able to hear the mortal's heartbeat. His thirst rose, but he ignored it like he usually did.

When Marc returned with a glass of wine, Luca took it thankfully. "I bet you want to know more about me...? I want to know about you, after all."

Marc didn't make a habit of drinking before three in the afternoon. Not even something light like wine or champagne, because it felt odd to him. Like he might have the beginning of a problem that some doctors fell habit to. He was glad to see Luca awake, though, and staying that way when he returned. Settling down on the couch in front of the fireplace, he was to Luca's right. "Well, yeah, I'd like to know more about you. But I wouldn't exactly pry for anything you don't want to give me. Just because you're here until you're feeling better doesn't mean you owe me anything." He should have gotten that blanket, but there was a knitted throw over the couch in case Luca wasn't warm enough. That thing could roast someone if they fell asleep wrapped up in it.

Luca inclined his head. "Please... I'd like to think we could be at least friends..." he replied, glancing over to Marc and sipping the wine. It was good, but too modern for his tastes. He set it down on the coffee table and clasped his hands together. "Unless you don't wish to have my friendship, that is. I... Well, I haven't had a friend in a long time. Definitely not a human friend."

He smiled, rubbing his slightly running nose. "As I said, I am half-vampire. I age slower than most humans but I still age. Most born vampires mature quickly, becoming adults in under a decade. I am 89 years old, even though I look like I am in my twenties." He wondered how Marc would take the news. "My mother was a mortal... She didn't survive my birth. My father... Loved her more than anything else in the world. He was told to kill me but... He kept me alive. I have my mother's looks, he's told me." He closed his eyes and stared into the darkness of his mind. "This is why I can't believe what happened. Father must think I died, or ran away. I have to go back, so he knows... So I know why..."

Marc was quiet, sitting forward a bit as if it would help him hear Luca, despite being less than five feet apart. Age wasn't a surprising concept for him---he'd dealt with vampirism enough to understand that a full blooded vampire was immortal and the very rare half-blooded was still mortal, though they had more than a few lifetimes on humans. Marc ran the palm of his hand over the cloth of the couch and nodded slowly. "I see..." He didn't like to admit he understood now, more than ever. His father still loved him, regardless of what some bad apples thought. Or did.

"Well, I suppose I owe you that chance to find out why you were stabbed and left for dead." He admitted, albeit somewhat begrudgingly. "And at any case..." He reached up, grasping the bloodstone. "I... was involved with a rather young-looking vampire a few years ago. We met at one of my favorite places---in a park near here, not where I found you. He said he was lonely and had just arrived in town, and was trying to get to know the place, but needed a local to help him out. I agreed, and thought that was that, after he learned the layout. He came to me one night in the rain; he'd been shot in the shoulder an couldn't risk the hospital. So I dug the bullet out and bandaged him up. That's how I knew you..." He shook his head, recalling how Gene's eyes went blood red when he was in the throes of pain. "Well. He gave me this after we got involved. Said it would protect me because I'd become adamant that he use me when he needed blood. And he said it would be... a way to show others how committed to one another we were. And if anything, we knew how much we meant to each other."

He looked into the fire, which had flared up rather well now. "I... came back one day and found him gone. He said if he ever vanished to never come looking for him because he didn't want me to be hurt... because he knew someday he might vanish, and couldn't explain to me why. Just... why. So I didn't look for him."

"That sounds..." Luca sighed and picked up the glass, admiring the ruby colour of the wine. It was still watery, not thick enough to trick himself into thinking it was blood. He felt sad that Marc had suffered a loss of a loved one and wondered if it still hurt. He had never been in love, but he wanted to. "I'm sorry to hear about your... About him. I have heard the name before, but I cannot tell you where or how. Maybe he had to get away, back to Italy or... Where ever he was from." He hoped the vampire hadn't been killed.

"I... Well... I haven't ever been in love, I've never had the chance to feel loves warmth bloom in my heart. I've heard good things... But also bad. It hurts when the love ends or your partner leaves... But they say it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." He smiled gently and toasted Marc, sipping his wine quietly. "I'm afraid... I don't want you to come with me. You are a mortal after all. If they... If they find out I have been with you..." He shuddered to think what would happen. The bloodstone around Marc's neck protected him from the curse, but it wouldn't stop fully grown vampires ripping into his flesh and killing him.

Marc looked down. He'd told himself all this. But he didn't know where Gene came from. He was loathe to talk about it, and said he just wanted to leave his bad happenings in the past. Wanted to start over and he didn't care whether Marc was a human. Didn't want to change him. He felt like that.. mattered. And the whole mantra about having loved and lost was almost lost on Marc. He didn't think about losing that love. He had to hope Gene might have survived whatever forced him to leave that night. Even if he never met the vampire again.

"It doesn't matter." Marc finally said. "I'm going with you. You need someone there, support, in case... I-in case you won't like what they tell you. Or what they do. I'm not as fragile as I look---" He snorted, shaking his head. "Damn, I mean... I know vampires are faster and stronger and their senses are so much more... refined... But I don't care. You can't go back alone after what they did."

"'They' did nothing. It was that stranger... My 'uncle'... That did it. I... I am certain it was some plot. My father will be on my side." He nodded, knowing that what he said had to be true. Once his father saw that he had survived and heard what had happened. "Is it alright if I watch the news? I don't usually watch TV, but I find the news rather informative." He waited for the TV to be turned on and switched to the right channel. There was the news reporter, talking about some war overseas. Luca had heard about many wars since he was alive.

The story ended and a new one started, bringing him to stare in horror at the screen. "Police have confirmed that Antony Moretti, the head of the notorious gang, was found dead last night. It seems that the man had taken his own life, but no more is known about the matter."

"No..." Luca cried, dropping his wine glass. "No... I'm dreaming... Father... He can't... No, it's not true! Marc... Please tell me it isn't true!" He slid from the chair and landed on the ground, pounding the carpet with his fists and crying. His father... They had killed him too.

Marc didn't always make use of that television on the wall. There was a gaming system on one side of the fireplace that he used on his offtime, especially if he needed to stay awake on a particularly notorious night or date when he was off, but would need to be called in. Or he watched movies, or the news, like they were now. An hour's news on before three, between one and two, usually for those that were just finishing up lunch or needed a quick update before the afternoon, and eventually, evening news started up.

Blinking, Marc turned is focus to Luca. That name. Antony. He knew that name and so did others. Dead, Antony Moretti? That couldn't be. Every time Marc had seen the man in public he was a tough, solid, powerful and confident man, there was no way it could have been suicide. He slid off the couch to kneel beside Luca, who seemed to forget his own physical pain in favor of a more acute, lasting pain. Marc was cautious when he placed a hand lightly between the screaming half-blood's shoulders. "Luca... Luca, please. You can't break down... Do you think he'd want this?" He'd comforted so many people, but not a half-blooded vampire breaking down at the coldly-received news that his father---a man that loved him regardless of his origin---had been killed. Killed, no doubt, because what happened to first Luca then Antony couldn't just be coincidence.

"Papa... No... Not my papa... It's fake... It's not true... He was... He is invincible... He can't die... He's..." It was hard to talk through the pain, which came from his heart and his wound. That stranger... It had all been a ploy to get him and his father out of the way. Who would get the estate now Luca was presumed dead? His younger brother or maybe even the 'uncle' himself. Did they force his father to put the silver stake through his heart? There was no way he would kill himself. It wasn't possible.

Rage overtook his grief. With new found strength he stood, his fists curling into balls. His eyes glowed red as his bloodthirst took control of him. He'll kill them. The traitors that would do this to his family, to his father. "I'm going." His voice didn't sound like his own as he slowly moved towards the door, ignoring the pain in his stomach as rage boiled inside of him. "I'll kill those bastards with my bare hands... How dare they..."

Marc shook his head. He was so far out of his element now that he didn't know what to say. Or do. He couldn't imagine losing one of his parents and finding out about it through the cool, detached voice of a reporter just doing their job. It was an ugly truth he didn't like, and couldn't imagine dealing with. Not the way Luca was. He gasped when the vampire stood and followed him quickly. "Luca, no!"

He stumbled over himself, catching the wall before he actually fell. "Luca, you're too weak!" Before the vampire reached the door, Marc grabbed his shoulder and slung him into the wall. "You're too weak yet! You can't without..." He blinked, shaking his head and making up his mind right on the spot. He could see Luca's fangs---grown, sharp and almost glowing in the gloom of midafternoon sunlight slanting through the window nearby. He decided quickly---because Luca was still surprised at Marc's sudden movement---and grasped a handful of the vampire's hair, forcing him to bite. The fangs were sharp and long and pierced like a knife through butter, flooding Marc with that special and one-of-a-kind warmth and excitement no one could find elsewhere.

Luca was shocked at the movement, but once he tasted the warm blood of the mortal, he calmed down. Drinking his fill easily, he made sure to lick the wounds so the tiny bit of vampire DNA in his saliva would make them heal faster. Strength returned to his body, but so did logic. It was not a good idea to just barge into the manor, not in his state. He sighed and looked Marc in the eyes, as if searching for answers. "Why did you do that?" he asked, wiping his mouth and leaning against the wall. "You... Forced me to bite you... I..." Had they made a bond that sometimes happens between vampire and mortal? Would he have to drink from Marc from now on? He didn't know how such things worked.

"Marc... Doc... I... I'm sorry I... I don't usually let my... Father's blood do the talking. You are right... If I go in this condition... We will have to wait until I am healed... If Papa... If my father is dead, his funeral will be held next week... I have plenty of time to see his... I..." He broke down and started to weep once more.

Marc braced himself on the wall the moment every concept of balance decided to leave him. It wasn't dizziness from the sudden donation of blood, but the way his mind whirled when he was bitten, when he was sure anyone was bitten, and fed upon, by a vampire. Sometimes the pull of the sensation was an addiction, beautiful and heavy and powerful. He had loved it once, and still did, but by some stretch he actually kept on his feet---and in his right state of mind. Marc sighed shakily, pressing a hand to his neck once the fangs had withdrawn entirely. "I had to." He muttered. The words were far away, it seemed.

As drawn as he was to the concept of revenge---though he knew it wasn't entirely helpful, Marc put his arms around the vampire and stroked his hair gently. "You have plenty of time." Marc reiterated what Luca said. "By the way things are progressing, you'll be healed entirely within the next two days. And maybe sooner with a bit of extra blood." He spoke gently, rocking gently with Luca, not too much, almost as if he were soothing a child.

Luca sniffed and nodded, trying to push the thought from his mind. His father... How could anyone dare kill him? There had to be something... Some sort of... He shook his head. It hurt to think about it and he knew he had to be strong, even though he felt weakened by the knife wound that would have killed a mortal. He got back to his feet and kissed Marc lightly on the forehead. "Thank you."

He went back to the seat and settled down, not touching the wine as he felt properly sated. He watched the rest of the news, but wasn't really paying attention what was said. How did they kill his father? A vampire can only be killed in certain ways, but to make it look like a suicide without bringing suspicion to themselves... Or maybe the rest of the family were suspicious. He was sure that his father's current wife, his step-mother, wouldn't let this slide.

Marc felt himself flush, but willed the sudden color to his face to go away before he followed Luca into the other room again. Where the glass had fallen, there was a very slightly darker tone to the rug, and Marc didn't feel it deserved enough attention. It was a very small spot, after all. He took the glass into the kitchen and washed it, setting it upside down to drain, then returning to the living room and staring at the television. It kept going on about the death of Luca's father and though the vampire didn't seem to be listening, it had to register somewhere what he was hearing. Marc switched it off and grabbed the blanket off the couch back.

"You might have a bit of a cold." He said easily, wrapping the blanket around Luca. "The best way to handle that is just time, really. I've got some teas that help the symptoms if you like the stuff." He lowered his gaze and stared at the floor. "I'll be upstairs. Just call if you need me and I'm not around, alright? I'll be able to hear you." He hadn't checked his email in two days, since Luca had fallen into a small coma.