Two weeks passed in a blur of night shifts and sleeping through days. Luke fell into a routine—wake at 6 PM, eat something quick, walk to the hospital, work until 7 AM, walk home, sleep. It was monotonous in a way his vampire life had never been.
Except for the 3 AM breaks.
Maya was always there, drinking terrible coffee and looking exhausted. They'd started sitting together without discussing it. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they sat in comfortable silence. Luke found himself looking forward to those thirty minutes more than he wanted to admit.
Tonight, Maya brought actual food—a plastic container of pasta that smelled amazing.
"Leftovers," she explained. "I actually had time to cook yesterday. Miracles happen."
"Looks good."
"Want some? I made too much." She pushed the container toward him. "Seriously, take half."
Luke accepted the offered fork and tried the pasta. It was simple—just marinara and vegetables—but well-made. "This is really good."
"Thanks. Cooking helps me relax." Maya smiled slightly. "When I have time for it, which is basically never."
"How many shifts are you working this week?"
"Six? Seven? I lost count." She ate without much enthusiasm. "Trying to make a dent in the debt. My dad's final hospital bill was two hundred thousand. Mom's was three hundred. Insurance covered some, but..."
Luke did the math. "That's half a million dollars."
"Give or take. Plus interest." Maya's laugh was bitter. "By the time I pay it off, I'll be sixty. Maybe. If I work myself to death first."
The casual way she discussed her crushing debt shocked him. As a vampire lord, money had been meaningless. But Maya was being crushed by an amount that was, to him, pocket change.
He couldn't help her, though. Luke Nash was supposed to be a broke grad student.
"Sorry," Maya said. "I'm doing it again. Dumping my problems on the new guy."
"I think you're dealing with a situation that would break most people," Luke said honestly. "And you're still showing up, still helping others. That's admirable."
"Most people just tell me to file bankruptcy."
"Have you considered it?"
"Every day. But it feels like giving up. My parents went into debt trying to live. Feels wrong to just erase that." She pushed pasta around. "Maybe that's stupid."
"It's not stupid. It's loyal." Luke recognized that burden. "But loyalty shouldn't destroy you."
They ate in silence. The cafeteria was especially empty—just them and one resident passed out in the corner.
"That'll be me in about three hours," Maya predicted. "We had two traumas come in back-to-back. Everyone's running on fumes."
"When's your next break?"
"Break?" Maya laughed. "I'm not supposed to be on break now. I'm supposed to be restocking supplies. But if I don't eat, I'll pass out."
"You should report that. Working without breaks is illegal."
"And they'd fire me for being difficult." Maya shrugged. "That's healthcare, Luke. The system runs on grinding through staff until they quit."
Luke had seen a lot of injustice in three hundred years, but there was something particularly offensive about watching Maya being exploited by institutions supposed to help people.
"Maya." Luke reached across the table, his hand stopping just short of touching hers. "Take care of yourself. The debt isn't worth your health."
She looked at his hand, then his face. "You're kind of intense for a grad student."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. It's nice. Most people don't notice when I'm drowning. Thanks for noticing."
She left before Luke could respond. He sat alone, thinking about her words. How long had she been drowning?
Around 5 AM, Luke's radio crackled. "Security to the parking garage, level B2. Possible disturbance."
He headed for the garage, taking the stairs down. The concrete space was nearly empty. He walked between vehicles carefully, listening.
Shuffling footsteps. Heavy breathing.
He turned the corner and found Maya pressed against a car, a man standing too close. The man was swaying, clearly intoxicated, and held a knife.
"Just give me your purse," the man slurred.
Luke moved without thinking. He closed the distance fast, grabbed the man's knife hand, and twisted hard. The weapon clattered to the concrete. The man swung wildly.
The punch connected with Luke's jaw. Pain exploded across his face—actual pain, sharp and disorienting. He'd forgotten what getting hit felt like. As a vampire, punches had been nothing. As a human, it hurt like hell.
Luke's instincts took over. He sidestepped, grabbed the man's arm, and used his momentum to throw him against the car. The man collapsed, groaning.
Luke stood breathing hard. His jaw throbbed. His hands shook with adrenaline. The fight had lasted maybe ten seconds, but his heart hammered.
"Luke!" Maya rushed over. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." His voice came out shaky. "Are you hurt?"
"No. You just—you moved so fast." Maya stared at him. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"Self-defense classes. In college."
"That was not college self-defense."
"Already called it in," Dave's voice came from behind them. "Saw it on the cameras. Police are on their way. Good work, kid."
The police arrived quickly. They took statements and arrested the attacker. Maya insisted on examining Luke in the security office. Her hands were gentle as she checked his jaw.
"You're lucky," she said quietly. "He hit you pretty hard."
"I've had worse."
"Where did you really learn to fight?" Maya asked, still holding his face.
They were close, her face inches from his. He could smell her shampoo—something floral and cheap. Could see the exhaustion in her features, but also the concern.
"I can't really explain," he said honestly. "But I promise I'm not dangerous. Not to you."
"I didn't think you were dangerous." Maya's hands dropped away. "I thought you were incredibly stupid. He had a knife, Luke. You could have been killed."
"He was threatening you."
"You barely know me. Why would you risk yourself like that?"
Luke didn't have a good answer. Watching Maya in danger had triggered something instinctive. The need to protect her had overridden common sense.
"I don't know. I just... couldn't stand there and watch."
Maya studied him. "You're strange, Luke Nash. Grad students aren't supposed to be secretly badass."
"I'm really not badass. I just got lucky."
"Well, your lucky self needs ice for that jaw. Come on."
Luke let her pull him up. His whole body ached now that adrenaline was fading. Being human was more painful than expected.
Maya found them a quiet corner in the ER and brought ice. She examined his jaw thoroughly.
"You're okay. Bruised badly, but nothing broken. You'll look like hell for a few days."
"Could have been worse. He could have stabbed you." Maya sat beside him, suddenly looking very tired. "Thank you. For helping me."
They sat while chaos swirled around them. Doctors rushed past. The usual sounds of trauma filled the air.
"I hate this place sometimes," Maya said quietly. "All this suffering. All the time."
"But you keep showing up."
"What else am I going to do?" She leaned her head back. "Sorry. I'm being depressed again."
"I don't mind."
"You should. Normal people mind when strangers trauma-dump on them." Maya smiled slightly. "But you're not very normal, are you?"
"What makes you say that?"
"You fight like a trained soldier. You actually listen when I talk. And you got yourself hurt protecting someone you barely know." She looked at him. "That's not normal, Luke."
"Maybe normal is overrated."
Luke eventually clocked out and walked home through early morning light. His jaw ached with each step. He'd been in countless fights as a vampire and never felt pain like this.
It was awful. It was also real.
And somewhere in the pain, Luke realized he'd felt more in the last few hours than he had in fifty years. Fear when Maya was threatened. Anger at her attacker. Concern for her well-being.
Real emotions. Sharp and vibrant.
This was what he'd been searching for.
Luke fell asleep that morning with a bruised jaw and an awakening heart. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he dreamed human dreams—confused and emotional and wonderfully meaningless.
He dreamed about coffee in an empty cafeteria. About brown eyes full of exhaustion and strength.
He dreamed about Maya, and he woke up smiling despite the pain.