AN: This author thanks ColHogan for the invaluable feedback and proofreading for this story, as well as the ending of my first one.

Chapter One: A New Day Dawns

It had been six days since Colonel Hogan, Newkirk, and Carter had managed to escape from the prison that Sergeant Faust, a Gestapo agent, had been keeping them in. It had been even longer since Hogan had learned the strange truth about his two men—that Newkirk and Carter were not men, but were in fact vampires, and had been since 1775 and 1933, respectively. Even though they had managed to hide that secret from him for the entire time that they had been prisoners in Stalag 13, they knew that they had to tell him because of a Gestapo agent, Colonel Magerlein, who doubled as a vampire Hunter. Sometimes Hogan still had dreams about everything that had managed to happen in roughly a month's time—how Carter and Newkirk had attacked Magerlein at his house and drunk his blood; how Hogan learned, from a couple of papers that he had stolen from Magerlein's desk, about the Angel Organization that they belonged to, which was made up of vampire sabotage and/or espionage agents; and finally, how the vampiric Faust had kidnapped them, hoping to learn more about Papa Bear and the Angels.

Having just come in from roll call, Hogan found himself staring out of the window that was in his quarters at both the sunny day and the Kommandantur's office that was across from barracks two. I still don't know how I feel about this—though I suppose his saving my life counts for something, Hogan thought to himself, knowing that his werewolf Kommandant was probably filling out more paperwork in his office. Even though Klink had promised that his other half would never hurt Hogan, he still wished that the men that he knew in his life were just that—plain, non-supernatural men.

Leaving his quarters, he approached Corporal LeBeau, who was pouring his team their breakfast coffee. He smiled as he saw him add extra lumps of sugar to both Newkirk's and Carter's, since Newkirk had once told him that it helped to mimic the body's natural blood sugar. Turning his head, he saw his three men sitting down, as LeBeau set the cups down in front of them. Everything is as it should be he thought to himself. Yet, he allowed himself a small sigh as he picked up his own cup. Turning around, he walked back into his quarters, not knowing that Newkirk and Carter were watching him leave.

When do you think Colonel Hogan is going to tell us? Carter thought to his friend, using the telepathy that all vampires possessed. He shouldn't have to do this—not on his own, at least.

This is new for 'im, Andrew. 'E's probably 'aving a million feelings at once—and none of them good. I'd rather not confront 'im about it, since you know 'ow private the Gov'nor is, but we'll give 'im until tomorrow. Newkirk allowed himself to sigh. He had and would always protect his commanding officer—that was his priority. He didn't know how or why it had happened, and at the moment he didn't exactly care. He just wished his commanding officer would open up about his feelings.

Back inside his quarters, Hogan sat at his table and looked dreamily at his coffee that he held with both hands, as though it would solve all of his problems. He took a sip, and then another. However, he sighed and angrily set the cup down on his table. I hate this! he thought to himself. He only wished that he was talking about the coffee, though he didn't care much for it either. Turning to face his door, he found himself thinking about two of his men who were still sitting around the common table. I wonder if they know? he thought to himself. They probably don't, or they might have offered to help me by now. Some friends they are! Sighing, he tried to make himself think rationally, yet he found that it had been almost impossible ever since he had escaped from Sergeant Faust. Robert, you know that isn't how it is. They still care about you—that fact will never change.

As quickly as he had sat down at his table, he got back up and started pacing his room. He had found that he had been very restless lately, which actually surprised him a bit. How can I be so restless when I feel so hungry? he silently asked himself. He had yet to eat any real nourishment since his ordeal, though he had often made himself eat LeBeau's cooking. Lying down on his lower bunk, he found that his headache had returned, as well as his muscle cramps. Sometimes he didn't know what was worse- the physical pain, or the emotional torment. Still, he would never let his men know the pain that he was in, as the last thing he wanted was for his team to experience any friction or guilt over what had happened. At the same time, he remembered a small event that had occurred a couple of days beforehand, as he had made the mistake of informing his second-in-command, Sergeant Kinch, that he had a bad headache when he saw his commanding officer vigorously rubbing his forehead. Hogan found that he had to stop himself from shouting at him that he didn't need any attention from the camp's medic, Joseph Wilson. Yelling wouldn't have done anybody any good he thought to himself. At the same time, he knew that irritability was only one of the symptoms of his physical pain.

Even though Hogan tried not to think about it, he couldn't help but begin to feel out of control, as he noticed that no matter what he tried to think about, his hunger wouldn't leave him. The only relief he felt was that up until that point, he had managed to put enough distance between himself and his men to avoid hurting them. He was also thankful that fortunately, no missions had come in for Papa Bear's team up until that point in time, since he didn't exactly trust himself to be their leader at the moment. The Colonel allowed a single tear to roll down his face as he realized what he had to do, though the very thought repulsed him. I don't want to do it, he thought to himself. Please, not that—anything but that. I'm not supposed to feel that way about blood! Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep, though it was one filled with nightmares as he thought about the event that had recently occurred.

As the event played itself over in his mind, he found himself tossing and turning in his sleep, and he awakened in a cold sweat right before the main act had occurred. Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was time for his mission for that night. Earlier in the day, Kinch had received a message from the Underground that Hogan was to meet a new contact who was stationed in the local hospital. Getting up from his bunk bed, he made his way out of his quarters, through the barracks, and down into the tunnel so that he could prepare for his rendezvous. After he had changed into German civilian clothes, he made his way over to the secret ammunitions room that was connected to the tunnels. Picking up his favorite gun, he found himself studying it—much the same way that he sometimes found himself studying Kinch's or LeBeau's necks, though he knew that his two men didn't notice. Sighing, he tucked it inside his jacket. I know Faust may be dead, but I'm not going to give him the satisfaction he thought to himself. Besides, when I have ever been the type to do things the easy way? As he left the tunnels, he didn't realize that two familiar figures were following him, and that they were also making their way to the local hospital.

As the two figures followed Hogan, they knew that it would be hard for him to control himself and his bloodlust, much as it had once been for them in the beginning. Even though he was going on a relatively simple mission, they wanted to make sure that no harm fell to either their commanding officer or any people that he might have to come in contact with.

I 'ave to admit that I'm glad you talked me into this Newkirk thought to the second man. The Gov'nor should not be left alone in 'is condition. Besides, it will let us kill two birds with one stone, as it were.

Do you think the Colonel will finally steal what he needs? Carter silently replied to his friend. I don't know about you, but I haven't seen him take any nourishment yet. At least, not since Wilson stopped giving him his blood transfusion four days ago.

Neither 'ave I Newkirk replied. 'E may be in denial—that's perfectly natural at first. Still, it wouldn't do 'im any good to lose control of 'imself. More than ever, the Colonel needs our 'elp—and we're gonna be there for 'im when 'e decides to open up. It's just like I promised 'im in 'is dream once—'e won't be alone in this. Newkirk wouldn't let himself think that perhaps the Colonel was starving himself to death on purpose, as the thought was too horrifying to comprehend. He knew that Hogan was probably angry at what he had become, as well as the fact that he would never know eternal peace. After all, I remember what Carter told me about 'ow 'e felt in the beginning…

Before either man had time to think about their commanding officer further, they found that they were outside of the hospital. Sighing, they made sure that Hogan was safely inside before they continued to follow him in at a safe distance.