"Want that hot chocolate, then?" Lazarus asked, closing the door. He didn't know what else to say. What were you to say to a person who had just killed someone she once loved?
"I'll pass, thank you." He nodded and walked into the kitchen, making a coffee for himself. "Uhh... I feel funny," she moaned as he switched on the kettle. He looked up at her, a concerned frown lining his forehead.
"I dunno. I just feel a little strange, mind if I take a shower?"
"No, of course I don't mind," he muttered, his frown not lifting. She smiled weakly, walking slowly into the bathroom. He knew she wouldn't feel great after what she had done; in fact, he didn't blame her for how she had acted in the park at all... he had just been so scared of losing her and snapped. Now he was afraid he had made her worse. Abandoning the coffee, he stood in the bathroom door, "D'you need anything?"
"Okay... well, let me know if you do," he mumbled, turning away to return to the kitchen. She didn't reply as he moved away, instead getting undressed and climbing into the shower to set about washing away the blood. Lazarus finished making his coffee and settled on the sofa with it, staring blankly at himself in the TV screen. There were smears of blood on his torso and face, and his jeans only made him look like a hobo.
"Umm...Lazarus?" she called after a while.
"Yeah?" he asked, putting his coffee on the floor and rising, standing by the bathroom door.
"What makes a werewolf sick?"
"Umm... not much that I know of... why?"
"Because... I think I must've eaten something bad."
"Oh, um... do you want me to go to the shop and get you some medicine or something?" he wondered; he didn't even know if there was a medicine for food poisoning.
"I dunno... I've never been a wolf. I don't know what makes you sick... what do you think I should do?" He thought about it for a moment, before shrugging.
"It'll probably just pass, but I can get you something if you want me to."
"Then, a glass of water will be fine."
"Sure," he nodded, returning a moment later, pushing the door open to give it to her. She looked rather flushed as she took it from him. Something stirred in her stomach again.
"Eugh..." she groaned and Lazarus watched almost anxiously as she drank slowly, worried that he might be wrong. "It's not just sickness. I generally feel really funny. Like something's different." He kissed her on the cheek.
"You'll be fine," he murmured, praying that he was right.
She latched her arms around his waist, "I hope so, perhaps... can wolves get pregnant?" His eyes widened. He hadn't even considered the possibility, and when he thought about it, he realised they hadn't used protection. He put his arms around her.
"Umm, I'm not sure, to be honest. I- I'm sure it's not that, it's probably just something you ate."
"It's just...I haven't really eaten anything and I remember my sister when she became, you know."
"Then maybe you're just ill because you haven't eaten enough? Wolves need a lot to eat," he suggested.
"I..." she sighed, "perhaps you're right. Ignore me."
"We'll see how it goes, hmm?" he sighed, kissing the top of her head, closing his eyes against the unbidden images that flashed in his head. A dream he had, while the hunter was still after him. The scene where he and Melissa were stood in the kitchen watching as their children played in the garden. While it wasn't a bad image in itself, he just didn't know how Melissa would cope if it turned out she was indeed pregnant. She nodded, a worried frown tugging at her lips as she slipped from his arms and made her way into the bedroom, where she collapsed onto the bed. He followed, standing in the doorway.
"I can go get a pregnancy test for you if you really want," he shrugged.
"Wouldn't want to be a bother, as you said, it's probably food poisoning. Ignore it."
"Hmm," his frown came back, matching hers, "it wouldn't be a bother. Do you want another drink?"
"No, I'm okay, thank you."
"Okay," he nodded, "well I'll be in the shower if you need anything," he muttered, picking up some clean clothes. She nodded slowly and he took one last, concerned glance at her as he walked out of the room again.