First Bite

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Santana shivered in shock. Why was she crying water? Why hadn't she gotten sick from human food? She started to tremble, but Brittany put her hand on her arm and hushed, "It's okay. Stay calm. You're okay, I've got you."

Listening to Brittany's words wouldn't have been enough alone, but paired with the calmness she could feel Brittany willing into her, Santana stopped trembling, though her eyes stayed wide and fixed on Brittany's.

"What does it mean?" she gasped.

Brittany gave her a timid shrug. "You know more about vampires than I do."

But Santana didn't feel she knew much about vampires. She hardly knew her own Maker, it seemed, and now the things she had grown used to about being dead were changing. What would be next? Would she be able to go out in the light? To touch silver?

She pushed those thoughts down. It was impossible for a vampire to turn human. She was probably ill with some mysterious supernatural disease and Quinn would make her drink all kinds of disgusting concoctions with monkey root and organic hemp seed to combat the toxins eating her from the inside.

She started to panic more at the thought of getting sick, but Brittany anchored her.

"Easy, sweetie..." Brittany whispered.

"What if I'm sick?" Santana asked.

"Do you feel sick?"

"There are all kinds of crazy supernatural diseases and poisons. I must have gotten something while I was angry and my guard was down."

Brittany repeated her question. "Do you feel sick?"

"No, but..."

"If you feel okay and you look okay, then you're okay. You're just... special."

Santana frowned, looking at the ground. Brittany's calmness was commanding, but Santana was still perplexed. Why had she started crying water? She hadn't had a sip of water in fifty years. Where had it come from?

Brittany rubbed her arm some more. "Would it make you feel better to ask Quinn if she's ever heard of something like this?"

Santana wasn't sure. On the one hand, Quinn was a talented physician who knew more about supernatural illnesses and injuries than anyone in their county. But Quinn was also Quinn, and until Santana figured out what she was up to, Santana wanted to give her as little information as possible.

Brittany could sense Santana's hesitation. "How about we Google it?" she said, pulling out her phone. Her thumbs typed for a few moments before she waited for the page to load. Then Brittany frowned. "It has a bunch of stuff about Buffy and someone named Bram."

"Stoker," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "He wrote Dracula. Biggest piece of shit I ever read."

Brittany nodded and put her phone away. "Did you know him?"

"Stoker? No. He died before I was born, and Dracula isn't real."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment and Santana could almost hear Brittany think. She had an adorable crease in her brow that made her look so serious and determined.

"What are you thinking?" Santana asked. As she studied Brittany, she felt her chest warm a little bit.

"Well..." Brittany seemed hesitant. "When I was little, I remember my dad saying something-"

Santana felt a sliver of ice slide through her arms and legs.

Brittany stopped, looking up at Santana. "I'm sorry," she whispered, apologetic for the fear she could feel slithering through Santana at the mere mention of her father.