Just like that, Raylan's gone, and for one odd, light-headed moment, Tim thinks maybe he'd been dreaming this whole time. That would be an interesting turn from the nightmares that usually plague him. But his dreams after being fed on area always a little strange, never set in Afghanistan's dry deserts, but frequently set in the acres of woods behind his childhood home, or the grassy land behind the baseball fields in high school. Dreams that remind him of simpler times.

Not dreams that involve he and Raylan in a hotel room.

Tim sits up, and the deep breath he draws in helps to clear his head and steady him a bit. The room doesn't spin, at least, even if he still feels a bit light headed. Raylan's across the room, breathing heavily, and Tim knows what happened. He can only guess the amount of self-control that goes into a situation like this from Raylan's end. He can only guess how difficult it must be to resist the urge to bite. Probably, it's more difficult than it is for Tim to keep from begging to be bitten. But that's definitely hard to imagine.

It's hard, he's sure, but right now, he's mostly just annoyed.

"I know." He moves to the edge of the bed, sitting on it with his feet on the floor. He'd stand, just to put them on more even ground, but he honestly doesn't know how well that would work out for him with the side-effects of the blood loss. "We won't. Come back over here."