Mordred and Vortigern
Mordred cried out weakly as lines of blood sprang up over his body, faithfully copying every slice Gwen cut. He deserved it and took the pain as his punishment. Everything that she did to herself, appeared on him. Hank was run off his feet trying to resupply the youth with blood and rehydrate him at the same time. The doctor had no idea how the teen was doing it, and Xavier didn't seem to be able to stop it.
Vortigern tossed his head restlessly, having succumbed to the fever alongside his twin. Spike held his hand as his teeth chattered and the burning hot fingers spasmed around the vampire's cool ones.
"So cold, I'm so cold, Spike..." Vortigern said in broken tones as his body shook.
"S'ok, luv, I've got ya..." Spike whispered to his lover. Damn, where was Nyx? They'd given those bloody apples to her...
"Gwen, please, love, don't, sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry..." Mordred's constant accusations of himself were also beginning to wear on the vampire's nerves. The scent of blood was getting to him. Hot, sweet blood that was so close to the golden haired boy he loved. Loved? Yeah. He was love's bitch, no doubt about it. He caressed Vortigern's face, letting the sweat damp strands run through his fingers.
"Spiiiiiikkeee..." Vortigern moved his head slightly, and dazed chocolate eyes opened for a moment. "Hurts, Spike. Mordred..."
"I know, love, I know..." Spike winced as Vortigern whimpered slightly. He couldn't do anything. Nothing at all. Impotent rage filled him as he watched his boy suffer.