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Night 9-10:
A little over a week after Nick's rescue, he was able to sit upright without falling over, and move his right leg.
The next night, he regained the use of his left arm.
Zoldrak knew well enough by now to expect that Nick would probably get worse again, but even so, he thought it might be nice to reintroduce Nick to another hobby of his besides reading—painting.
He laid out a plastic mat to avoid mess and sat Nick down on it, and then pulled out a piece of paper and some of Nick's paints. Not his favorite watercolors—Zoldrak didn't really know what to do with them—but his acrylics.
Nick stared in confused wonder as Zoldrak demonstrated, painting a swatch of red, then blue. “Here, you try.”
He helped Nick hold the brush, and dipped it in the green paint, then brought it to the paper. Nick moaned and moved his arm jerkily, splattering dots of green all over the page and his bare legs. “Woah, that looks nice!” Zoldrak said.
Nick moaned and brought the brush to his face, putting a dollop of green on his cheek. He looked startled. “Careful! You're getting it on your face!” Zoldrak brought his hand back to the page, and Nick looked at it, frowning in confusion.
By the end, Nick was covered pretty much head-to-toe in paint, and Zoldrak, too, had some blotches. He took the brush from Nick and left it to soak, setting the painting (a jumble of paint spatter mostly, with the occasional stroke made with Zoldrak's help) aside to dry.
Running water could be a bad thing for a weakened vampire, and Zoldrak wasn't taking any chances—Nick had lost a lot of weight during his captivity, and hadn't yet gained it all back. He left Nick sitting on the mat as he ran the water, then returned and carried Nick to the bathroom.
He set Nick on the toilet and removed his diaper—the wetness indicator had been painted over in bright orange, so Zoldrak didn't know until he opened it that Nick was wet. He threw the diaper out and lowered Nick naked into the tub.
As soon as he touched the water, Nick moaned. “You OK, buddy?” Zoldrak asked, but he didn't seem upset, only surprised. He flailed his left arm and splashed, then widened his eyes even further and smiled.
Zoldrak scrubbed the paint off, and shampooed Nick's mostly-bald head, taking the occasional break to spot-clean the paint off of himself as well. “What do you think, should we do this again?” He asked. “Maybe it could be a way to document your progress, seeing how your painting changes.”
When Nick was clean, he lifted him out, set him on the toilet, and wrapped him with a towel. As Nick idly kicked his right leg, Zoldrak put a fresh diaper on him, scrubbed his hair dry—getting a frown and a head shake from Nick—and then carried him back to the living room, setting him down on the couch.
“You OK with me watching a documentary on predatory animals, buddy?” Zoldrak asked, watching for Nick's reaction as he turned on Netflix. As soon as the music started, Nick flinched and moaned unhappily. “OK, I'll turn it back off. You need it quiet, huh?”
Zoldrak grabbed the book. “How about I read to you?” He started to read aloud, his arm around Nick, who was waving his hand and staring at it.