[He asked her to let him know when he could help, and he meant that. He just didn't expect that need to come immediately. It startles him, not because he isn't entirely ready to do what needs to be done - he wouldn't have offered if he wasn't - but because he thought she would need more time to think about it, to decide whether or not to trust him with this additional piece. He also didn't expect there to be a crisis immediately, but with vampires, he probably should have.]

[There's zero question in his mind, though. She needs him, so he's here for her. He'll drop everything to protect her, and by extension everyone, from the wreckage that has the potential to explode across the Fleet as a result of carelessness.]

[It's what he's supposed to do. It's what his father would have wanted.]

[Still, maybe there's some small part of him that thought it was over, and maybe that one small part of him is - a little disappointed.]

[He looks at her carefully, his gaze intent but not quite sharp. It's businesslike, really. He's never had a conversation like this before, but it seems like he has from the way he holds himself; it seems commonplace, when half of his mind is occupied with the thought of cold fingers and dizziness and blood in his eyes.]

So you don't think you can tell him, at least not yet, but that doesn't make him any less potentially dangerous.

If he does remember it, if he remembers and gets overwhelmed and starts to feed. You want me to . . . ?

[He's asking, but on some horrible level, her answer doesn't matter. There's one choice and one choice only. That's just the way it is.]

[God, he's tired.]