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In time, I even regarded Vlad as a guarded sort of friend. Time passed as time does, and early spring came to be early summer. Roses bloomed in carpets in the garden, too many to fade when night fell. I remember lying in the grass with Edward's head on my shoulder, searching the sky for stars, while Vlad sat nearby, just barely not touching us. While the house was on the edge of London, the thick murk still made stargazing problematic. Vlad told stories of times long past, of other sorcerers he'd met, of kings and generals. Then, out of nowhere, I was struck with a sudden fever. It flushed my body, bringing with it a terrible headache.
“Xander?” I could feel Edwards' hands on my shoulders. I knew they'd be warm, almost hot, they always were ,but they felt cold. I shivered violently.
“Alexander?” That was Vlad. He didn't sound concerned, like Edward did, more... clinical. “Ah. A fever. We should move him.” I felt myself being picked up and carried, but I couldn't seem to concentrate on it. I'd had These strange fevers before usually when I was in bed; so I could just ride them out. I was laid on a bed, and shivered violently again, wondering how I could be burning up and still feel cold.
“Xander.” Edward's voice came. “I have something for you to drink.”
I shook my head, afraid for an unknown reason. “I'll be fine.” I rolled onto my side, and started coughing. “Just let me sleep.”
“Xander, please, I'm worried about you. Let me help.”
“No.”
“Edward, let him be.” Vlad's voice came. “Here, put a cloth on his forehead.” something damp touched my face.
“But he's dieing!”
“Not yet, I don't think.”
I felt Edward's hand curl around mine. “I don't want you to die, Xander.”
“Makes two of us.” I joked weakly, not opening my eyes. “It'll pass.”

And I slept.