7. Fighting with technology.
Chapter seven
Fighting with technology...
Luka
L uka shifted in his chair, the vinyl creaking beneath him. Eight feet away—the precise distance that seemed to keep Nick’s anxiety at bay—the hunter slept fitfully, face contorted even in unconsciousness.
Strong , his beast murmured, attention fixed on Nick’s remaining hand. Callused . Built for weapons .
Three days of observation revealed much about Nick Walsh.
Evennow, his shoulders remained tensed, ready to spring into action despite exhaustion.
When his shirt rode up during a pain spasm, Luka glimpsed the tapestry of scars across his abdomen—deliberate patterns carved into flesh by someone who considered human skin their canvas.
But Luka found himself drawn to different moments. The flashes of genuine pride when Nick mastered a particularly difficult sign, or the way his entire face transformed when he laughed, years dropping away to reveal someone younger, unbroken.
Three days of inadequate sleep and constant pain were taking their toll. Nick’s color worsened overnight, his breathing shallow, muscles tremblingevenat rest. This was the slow suicide of someone who didn’t believe he deserved comfort.
The room’s scentsbecame overwhelming as Luka’s exhausted senses hyperfocused on every detail. Nick’s fear-sweat mixed with infection and dried blood. Their unwashed state created an unexpected intimacy, scents layering together after days in close quarters.
Ours , the beast purred, responding to the territorial marking. Smells like ours now .
Seventy-two hours without sleep pushedevenvampire physiology to its limits.
Luka’s enhanced senses became painfully sharp, his emotional regulation fraying at the edges.
The beast’s voice grew stronger as his human consciousness weakened, making it harder to maintain the careful boundaries he established.
Take his pain . Make him sleep . Stop his suffering .
Force destroys trust. He has to choose.
He is in pain . We can fix pain .
Not all pain is physical.
Luka’s gaze traveled over Nick’s clothing—the same shirt, jeans, and boots he’d worn for days. The hunter refused to remove a single item, notevenfor sleep. Clothes formed a barrier between Nick and vulnerability, a last defense against complete exposure.
A distant sound from the hallway made Luka tense, head snapping toward the door. Every protective instinct flared, ready to eliminate any threat to the injured human. The intensity of the feeling surprised him—this wasn’tjustmedical care anymore.
His throat ached from disuse, but also from restraint. Part of him wanted to speak comfort, to use his voice despite the pain it would cause.
Gentle sounds . Soft words . He needs them .
But Luka remained silent, understandingthathis damaged voice might trigger rather than comfort.
The heart rate monitor beeped faster as Nick stirred. Luka shifted in his chair, preparing for the potential dissociationthatwould follow.
?I’m here,?he said, though Nick’s eyes remained closed. The gesture was for himself as much as for the hunter.
Nick’s eyes snapped open, but the person behind them vanished.
His gaze fixed on the ceiling, vacant and hollow, like a window to an empty house.
The heart monitor spiked, beeping frantically as his pulse rocketed to dangerous levels.
His chest rose and fell in shallow, mechanical movements, like a machine running on autopilot while its operatorstepped away.
Luka recognized the absence. This wasn’t sleep or unconsciousness—Nick had fled somewhere deep inside himself, abandoning his body to escape what it felt.
Feel what hurts him . Understand the depth .
The beast’s suggestion vibrated through Luka’s exhausted mind. He’d never tried to sense pain without direct contact before. His ability required touch—skin against skin—to work properly. But Nick’s distress radiated from him in almost visible waves.
Luka rose from his chair, moving toward the bed with deliberate care. His hands hovered inches above Nick’s body, careful not to make contact with skin or clothing. Concentration pulled his brows together as he extended his senses outward, searching for the pain signature through air itself.
At first, nothing happened.Then—a faint crackling sensation against his palms, like static electricity gathering over damaged nerves. Heat bloomed above acute pain sources while cold spots marked where old traumadeadened feeling entirely.
Horror built in Luka’s chest as the scope became clear.
Nearly every part of Nick radiated suffering.
The amputation site burned furiously. His throat scar pulled tight with each breath.
Most disturbing was the phantom limb pain—an electrical storm of misfiring nerves creating heat signatures where fingers no longer existed.
Nausea rolled through Luka’s stomach. Nick’s entire nervous system had been conditioned for suffering. Pain had become his normal state—relief would feel wrong, dangerous.
The urge to touch Nick, to sweep away this agony, nearly overwhelmed Luka’s restraint. But forcing relief would betray the fragile trust they built.
Suddenly, Nick’s eyes focused, awareness returning. He saw Luka standing over him, hands extended above his body.
“What are you doing?”Fear flashed across his face as he tried to sit up, his hand moving protectively across his chest.“Don’t touch me! I didn’t say you could touch me!”
Luka retreated to the safe distance, hands raised. He grabbed his notepad: ‘Not touching. Feeling your pain through air.’
Nick’s appeared to fear shift from wariness mixed with curiosity. “How much did you see?”he asked, voice rough with suspicion but lacking its earlier panic. His eyes darted between Luka and the door, calculating distances, weighing odds.
“How long were you doingthat? What did you see?”The words came out tight, strangled with embarrassment and violation.
Luka grabbed his notepad, writing quickly:‘ Two minutes. Felt pain levels only, not personal details.’
“Pain levels?”Nick’s voice cracked.
Luka scribbled: ‘Your body hurts everywhere. Constantly. Old injuries, new infection.’
Nick’s face flushed with humiliation.“So you know... you know how pathetic I am.”The word ‘pathetic’ emerged bitter, dripping with self-loathing.
Luka shook his head vehemently, pen scratching across paper:‘ Pathetic = wrong word. Resilient = correct word.’
He thinks pain makes him weak . Explain strength .
Nick stared at the words, confusion replacing some of the shame.“Can you take it away? All of it?”
Luka nodded, writing:‘ For up to 12 hours sometimes.’
“What’s the catch? What do you want in return?”Nick’s suspicion returned.
‘Nothing. Gift freely given .’ Luka underlined “freely” twice.
Nick’s brow furrowed.“Nobody helps without wanting something.”
Something settled in Luka’s chest, a familiar calmthatcame when the right answer was obvious, as he wrote: ‘ I want you to feel better.Thatis what I want.’
“Why? I tried to kill you.”The genuine confusion in Nick’s voice made something ache behind Luka’s ribs.
‘ Good question. Still figuringthatout.’ Luka paused,thenadded with deliberate care:‘ You need sleep. Pain prevents sleep. Without sleep, you will die.’
Nick lowered his eyes. “Maybe that’s easier.”
Luka’s hands moved sharply:?No.?The fierceness of his own response surprised them both.
Don’t let him die . Protect him.
Luka took a moment to steady himself and wrote:‘ If vitals stable after rest, you can leave. Go anywhere. No obligation .’
Nick searched his face, looking for deception.“You’dreallylet me go?”
Luka nodded, though his beast howled at the thought. Don’t let him leave . Keep him safe . He belongs with us .
Nick’s hands shook with exhaustion, dark circles beneath his eyes pronounced.
Eventhe small muscles in his face twitched with fatigue.
Speakingseemedto require monumental effort.
Nickjuststared at Luka, weighing something impossible.
“If I... if I let you help, you won’t hurt me while I’m unconscious? ”
Luka wrote: ‘I swear. You will be safe. I will guard you. ‘
“Twelve hours?”
Luka nodded.
“AndthenI can leave if I want?”
Another nod.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll try it.”The wordsseemedto cost him everything.
Luka wrote:‘ I will touch your forehead. Will be gentle.’
“Ok,” Nick whispered.
Luka’s cool palm touched Nick’s feverish skin. Relief flooded through the hunter’s system, his eyes widening in wonder before unconsciousness claimed him. His features softened in sleep, years of pain erased.
He fought the overwhelming urge to kiss his forehead, settling instead for gently brushing sweat-damp hair from Nick’s brow.
***
The ancient vending machine rattled,thenmade a disturbing grinding sound before spitting Luka’s cash back out. He pulled a credit card from his phone case and tried again.
Connection error. Please try different payment method.
Luka’s jaw clenched.
Break glass . Take what’s needed .
Tempting. But hospital security might investigate broken vending machines,evenin this abandoned wing.
He’d already filled a large gift shop bag with soft clothing and basic toiletries.
Small comforts Nick probably hadn’t experienced in months.
The thought of the hunter trying to clean infection with gasoline made something protective coil tighter in Luka’s chest.
He studied the vending machine’s dusty contents—water, protein bars, anything to combat months of malnutrition.
We need these things. Nick needs these things.
Footsteps echoed down the empty corridor, too light for security.
Luka turned, recognizing the familiar scent before Jae-sung appeared around the corner.
His friend looked exhausted, wrinkled scrubs hanging from his frame, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes.
He carried two bags—one from hospital lost-and-found, another large pharmacy bagthatclinked with medication bottles.
“Fighting with technology?”Jae nodded toward the vending machine.
?Card stopped working,?Luka said.?Need more supplies.?
Jae set his bags down, pulling out his own wallet.“How much more are you planning to buy? There won’t be anything left.”
?Everything useful.?Luka gestured at the machine’s contents.
Jae handed over a series of billsthatlooked like they’d been ironed and smelled of hand sanitizer.“You’re obsessing.”
?Not obsessing. Providing necessities.?
“Uh-huh.”Jae’s knowing smile irritated Luka, but he took the cash anyway.
While Luka systematically emptied the vending machine, Jae unpacked the lost-and-found items.“These might fit him better than hospital stuff. Slip-on shoes about his size. Jacket’s a bit worn but warm.”
Luka nodded gratefully, and proceeded to select every protein-containing item in the machine.
“I brought everything you asked for.”Jae patted the pharmacy bag.“Broad-spectrum antibiotics. Pain meds, though you said he won’t take them. Wound care supplies. IV fluids. Enough to treat him off-grid.”
Luka paused, looking at his friend with concern.?How did you get all this??
“I found his old admission record from six years ago to check allergies and I used a Medicare number from someone who died last month for the drugs.”Jae shrugged.“Pharmacy doesn’t question prescriptions with proper paperwork.”
The risk Jae had taken for a stranger who tried to cut his arm off wasn’t lost on him. He reached out, squeezing Jae’s shoulder in silent gratitude.
“You need to get him out of here soon.”Jae’s expression turned serious.“People will start asking questions about missing supplies. Hospital admin does random audits.”
Luka nodded, understanding the growing danger. His gaze caught on something unusual—faint red moisture stuck to Jae’s eyelashes. He reached out, wiping one away with his thumb.
?Have you been crying??
Jae looked away.“Custody battle case. Parents fighting over visitation rights while their four-year-old was in my ICU with a head injury. I spent three hours with them arguing about legal details before I had to tell them to stop fighting because their son is brain dead.”
Luka opened his arms to offer a hug, though he knew Jae wouldn’t take it.
“My shift ends in two hours. Need to be back before morning staff arrives.”Jae gathered his empty bags.“Get him stable and gone before someone notices the missing supplies.”
Luka began collecting everything—gift bag, vending machine haul, pharmacy items. The urgency was clear. This sanctuary was temporary. They needed a longer-term solution for Nick’s recovery.
“How is he?”Jae asked, hesitating before returning to his shift.
?Sleeping. First real rest in days.?
“Good.”Jae studied him.“Justbe careful, Luka. Whatever this is... it’s complicated.”
Luka nodded. He knewthatbetter than anyone.