Venipuncture

Chapter 7: Humanity

Willow's morning run was what it had always been since she moved to Portland last month. Raining, grey, and somehow, depressing.

Willow had moved there because of the opportunities presented to her, and because it gave her enough of a chance to move away from her family. A girl had to make her own way, after all.

But as she ran on the city's streets, her bright green hoodie zipped up as she came to a stop in front of a stoplight, she took a moment to catch her breath. She was alone, and that worked for her. She also made a note to avoid the Underground, or, at least, the area where she thought the Underground would be. She had left that Rune Stone bus pass thing at home, if only because she still wasn't sure that she still hadn't woken up from the tranquilizer induced fever dream.

And what's more, she really didn't want to deal with any more supernatural vampire nonsense right about now.

At that, Willow stopped, and shook her head as she placed her hands on her hips. “Vampires are real," she said. “The supernatural is real," she ran a hand over her face. “Gah."

Portland's winding streets and curious bridges had taken her over many a highway and past many bars, the grey sky overhead keeping her company as the sun slowly began to peek through the clouds.

And yet, underneath those very same clouds sat a world straight out of a fairy tale.

It was absurd, stupid, 'insane.' Yet, it was true. She had dealt with kitsune, goblins, gorgons, and most importantly, vampires.

Well, vampire.

A lithe, thin one with flawless skin and ruby eyes that…

That had robbed her, kidnapped her, and now forcefully introduced her to a world Willow wanted no part of.

Like it or not, Willow told herself, they aren't human. Best not to treat them like they were.

“What I don't get is," she muttered to herself. “Is why me? Why did that vampire make me their go to doctor?"

Her pondering was cut short as something within her sprang to life. It wasn't a bowel movement, thankfully, or even the monthly trouble, but instead, something different. Something worse.

Her breath became shortened, and her skin became clammy, and she turned. Footsteps echoed in her ears, and she turned to find another early morning jogger coming down the sidewalk. Willow let out a sigh of relief. Being snuck up on so many times was making her jumpy.

The jogger came to a stop in front of her, and it gave Willow a good look at the newcomer's face. He was somewhat handsome, or, at the very least, not bad looking. He had a short head of brown hair and a growing goatee.

“Hey," he said. “Nice morning."

“Yeah," she said. “Nice."

She looked at the stoplight in front of her, the 'wait' signal still a red hand.

The other jogger paused and got a good look at her face. “Wait…are you…Doctor Farron?"

Ugh, she hated her last name. Sounded too much like a horse.

“That's me," she said. “Do I know you?" she asked brusquely.

The jogger paused and extended his hand. “Oh, sorry, I'm Dr. Moorhouse. I work at Portland OHSU."

The best hospital in Portland, Willow noted. “I've heard of it," she said. “And I'm surprised you've heard of me."

“Ah, I like to keep an eye out for new talent," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

That…was certainly something. It made sense though, Willow thought. Then, as the light turned green, allowing Willow to pass. “Well, let me know if you ever need a checkup!" she called, and turned and went on her way.

She ran down the street at a steady pace, the usual speed she went through during her usual jogs. But as she went, footsteps thumping against the ground never left her ears, and that same, lingering feeling of fear never left her either. She came to another stop sign soon enough, and sure enough, Dr. Moorhouse came to a stop right next to her. He let out an awkward, and forced, laugh.

“Ha, sorry about that," he said with that same smile. “I run this route too."

“I see," Willow answered.

“So, I have a question, if you don't mind," Moorhouse asked.

“…What is it?" Willow frowned. Whenever someone asked that, it was usually a sign of trouble.

“What made you open up a one-woman clinic? I heard about you from a friend of mine, Irene. She said you were a great intern back in med school."

Willow clicked her tongue. “Exaggerating, I'm sure."

“So…the truth?"

Willow shrugged. “Just felt like it."

“I see," Dr. Moorhouse nodded. “But if you don't mind me—"

“Ah, sorry Doctor," Willow cut in. “I generally like to use the early morning to get my head together, not talk about my past."

“I see," Moorhouse replied. “Sorry for pushing, I was just curious."

“Oh, it's fine," Willow returned, her tone as neutral as she could make it.

They stood in awkward silence for a while before, thankfully, the go sign came much quicker than before. Sure enough, Willow took off, though, this time, much faster than before. She also made sure to take and turn another corner that she wasn't planning on taking, then a few more for good measure.

Twists and turns, a path even she didn't know while increasing her speed until she was truly running, not jogging.

But by the time she made it home, she was certain that she had lost the good doctor, and yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that a pair of eyes was on her. The same kind of feeling that came when she first met Lilith.

Like she as a mouse being watched by a cat.

She grasped the doorknob and spared one last look over her shoulder, searching for any sign of being followed.

And when she found none, Willow entered her home, but wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was overreacting.

She shook her head. There was no such thing as 'overreacting' when you're owned by a vampire.