Sam's little announcement hadn't gone the way she expected. Which was a fucking understatement. When someone said 'I'm a vampire,' you kind of expected torches and pitchforks. Not a whole bunch of loonies offering up their necks.

But that was exactly what was happening.

Biting Bucky had been painfully awkward. Not something Sam was sure she wanted to repeat. But it occurred to her, as she tossed and turned in the misery of that experience, that even if she didn't want to bite again, with enough volunteers, there was still the possibility she might be able to sustain life.

They had a damn hospital. Which probably meant they had damn syringes.

It was worth investigating, anyway.

Sam waited until the sunset. She could handle some sunlight, it seemed. But it felt fucking weird. And who knew how long it would last, anyway? Their Overlords had a talent for pulling the rug out from under them. But anyway, in the cool sunset, she made her way over to the hospital. It felt a little wrong to go rifling through the drawers--hello addict habits--but before she even considered it, she spotted Claire. Although they'd only met once, Claire had made something of an impression. Sam appreciated the 'take no shit' attitude. So her forehead crumpled up in confusion and she made her way over. "What's wrong with you?"

Sam was just...not good at people.