MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Water could revive someone, right? Maybe if he tried that again, or...or something else? Anything to avoid that hospital idea, which felt more and more like signing Rose's death sentence. The media, the scrutiny, the fear from humans confronted with something they didn't understand - it would consume them all over again.

At all costs, Blake needed to avoid that nightmare scenario from repeating itself. There had to be another way to get Rose the help she so desperately needed right now. Some way that didn't put their fragile new life at risk of shattering apart.

If only the one person who might understand would pick up their damn phone...

Just then, Blake's phone lit up with an incoming call, the ringtone seeming to cut through the tense silence like a lifeline. He didn't hesitate for even a second before answering.

"Hello? Martina?" Blake's voice was thick with urgency and relief.

"Blake, I'm so sorry I missed your calls earlier," the familiar feminine voice came through the speaker. "I was doing my rounds at the hospital and-"

"It's Rose," Blake interrupted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "She collapsed again, not even a full day after the last time. I don't know what's wrong or how to help her this time."

He quickly gave Martina the details - how Rose had been fine one moment as they were...intimate, and then the next she had simply crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he could react.

There was a pause on the other end before Martina's tone took on a decisive urgency. "I'm on my way. Right now."

Blake opened his mouth to protest, realizing she must be coming from the city hours away. But Martina cut him off firmly.

"Don't do anything, Blake. Don't call an ambulance, don't try taking her anywhere. Rose is stronger than you think - I've been her personal physician for over a century, I know her body better than anyone."

A tremor went through Blake at those words. Could Martina really make it there fast enough from the city? Even with her vampire abilities, it was a multiple hour journey.

"Cover her up and keep exposing her to fresh air," Martina instructed. "That's the best thing for now until I arrive. Rose is resilient, I promise you. She won't simply slip away."

Blake wanted so desperately to do more, to take some sort of action rather than feeling helplessly idle. But he knew Martina spoke the truth - when it came to Rose's unique physiology, her knowledge superseded anything modern medicine could offer.

Swallowing hard, Blake gave a small nod of assent, even though Martina couldn't see it through the phone. "Okay...okay, I'll do as you say. Just please, hurry."

He ended the call and turned back to Celena, still clinging to his leg and staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Forcing a tight smile, Blake gently scooped up his daughter.

"It's going to be okay, peanut," he murmured, more for his own reassurance than hers. "Mommy's doctor is on her way to help. We just need to be patient and keep Mommy comfortable until then, alright?"

With Celena huddled securely in his arms, Blake set about following Martina's instructions to the letter. He carefully arranged Rose on top of the bedsheets, opening the bedroom windows to allow the cool night breezes to flow over her still form.

Then, feeling useless but obedient, Blake settled into the nearby armchair to keep vigil over his wife. His gaze never left Rose's face, searching intently for any signs of returning consciousness, of life.

All he could do now was wait, and have faith that Martina would make it to them in time. Powerlessness was always Blake's biggest insecurity - but for Rose, he would do anything, including surrendering control to a higher power.

She was everything to him. And he refused to lose her, not after surviving so much to finally find peace together. Somehow, some way, they would make it through this latest crisis too.

They had to. Blake's world couldn't keep spinning without Rose by his side.

Blake sat vigil by Rose's bedside, cradling a drowsy Celena in his arms. The little girl's eyes grew heavier by the minute as she struggled against the late hour. Eventually, her head lolled to the side, her small body going limp with sleep against her father's chest.

Carefully, Blake rose from the armchair and carried Celena down the hall to her bedroom. He gently tucked her into her tiny bed, brushing the soft curls from her forehead before placing a tender kiss there. Despite his inner turmoil over Rose's condition, Blake felt a pang of gratitude that Celena could still find such peaceful rest.

Leaving his daughter's room, Blake made his way back to the bedroom he shared with Rose. As he entered, he was struck by the romantic atmosphere he had so lovingly prepared just hours earlier. The flickering candlelight, the aromatic massage oils, the rumpled bedding - all now haunting reminders of how swiftly everything had unraveled.

Blake set about extinguishing the candles and cleaning up the massage setup with brisk, jerky motions. Sweeping it all into a bin, as if purging the space of those painful reminders. When he was done, the room was left in stark, shadowy stillness.

He settled himself on the small couch at Rose's bedside, eyes fixed intently on her motionless form. The steady rise and fall of her chest was the only reassuring sign that she still clung to life. Every few minutes, Blake reached out to tenderly brush his fingertips over her cheek or smooth the hair away from her face.

"Don't leave me, Rose," he murmured, more to himself than her unconscious form. "Not again. Not when I've only just found my way back to you."

The minutes ticked by in agonizing silence, punctuated only by the occasional soft creak of the old cabin settling around them. Blake's mind raced, thoughts pinballing between memories of their life together and desperate pleas for her to wake up, to be okay.

Try as he might, sleep simply refused to come and offer him even a temporary escape from his vigil. His nerves were too snarled, his heart jackhammering with a volatile mixture of fear, love, and maddening helplessness.

So he kept watch, as the night stretched on infinite and immutable around him. Waiting, with fists clenched and jaw tensed, for Martina's arrival and praying it wouldn't be too late.

Because a world without Rose's radiant presence in it? That was something Blake simply could not, would not accept. She was his light, his love, his everything.

And he would fight like hell to keep that light from being extinguished.