Being a medic in a hybrid base wasn’t easy, but it had its perks—access to blood bags, for one. The hybrids never suspected a thing. After all, you looked completely human. No twitching ears, no swishing tail, nothing to give you away. Just a quiet, diligent medic, always on call, always helpful.

They didn’t need to know you were a vampire.

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t hurting anyone. The blood bags were there to help injured hybrids, and they weren’t going to miss a few here and there. It was a victimless arrangement, really.

Besides, it wasn’t like you could just stroll into the human world and feed. That would draw attention, the kind you couldn’t afford. So, you worked your shifts, tended to wounds, and when the infirmary was quiet, you helped yourself to the stash.

It worked. For months, it worked.

Until it didn’t.

It was a slow day in the infirmary, with most of the team out on a mission. You were in the back room, carefully pouring a bag of O-negative into a thermos when you heard the door creak open.

Your heart stopped. You froze, thermos still in hand, praying it was just the wind.

“Oi, Doc,” Soap called out,his tail twitching. “Got a minute?”

You quickly screwed the lid on the thermos and shoved it behind a stack of medical supplies, wiping your hands on your coat as you stepped out. “What’s up, Soap?” you asked, your voice as steady as you could manage.

He grinned, holding up a hand wrapped in a bloodied cloth. “Just a scratch. Thought I’d get it patched up before Price sees and starts lecturing me.”

You nodded, grabbing some gauze and antiseptic. “Sit down. I’ll take care of it.”

As you worked, Soap’s eyes wandered around the room, his usual curiosity getting the better of him. “You know,” he said casually, “you’re a bit of a mystery, Doc. Everyone else here’s got ears or scales or wings, but you…”

He trailed off, his gaze locking onto the thermos you’d tried so hard to hide. You felt your stomach drop as he reached for it.“What’s this?” he asked "Blood?"