A/N: Hi guys! Lookit me, posting roleplay stuff here. [/ahem] May Sparrow here. This is a nice little idea MissDomaYuset and I came up with before we started Prescription for Life, which will be continued, not to worry! But anyway, I'm pretty sure we started this a little after Solutions which was a big inspiration for certain characters.

But anyway, don't want to keep you waiting with a long author's note. On with the story!

In Where Obsessions of Different Sorts Collide

By MaySparrow and MissDomaYuset

Summary: Casimiro's relationship with Finas becomes strained as his obsession with finding Adelaide grows. Abner's obsession with hunting vampires may be given a second thinking over when he starts noticing startling similarities between himself and what should have been an easy target.

Characters: Abner, Conrad, Casimiro, Finas

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tessa Stone, and we make no profit in this. I'm only saying this once, guys. Don't sue me.

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It was official. Conrad was pissed.

Not that he never wasn't pissed. It just wasn't often at this level. Obviously, the plot to try not to eat and therefore avoid Worth's office had proven childish and futile, and when he had shown up this night to finally eat, Worth, being the dick he was, seemed to home in on his pissy mood and make it worse, in that special way that made Worth Worth.

And it most certainly did not help that Hanna had showed up about halfway through his meeting, and just hearing that boy's (Because Hanna was no way in heaven or hell a man) high pitched (see?) voice just rubbed Conrad the wrong way tonight, like rubbing satin at the wrong angle. Wait, was it satin or silk? Oh, who cared? All that mattered is that Conrad's temper had all but blown over, and then Hanna looked hurt and Worth made even more fun of him and-

And…

Conrad had stormed out, empty-handed and possibly even more pissed off than he had been. Lord knows he was starving and angry and he did not want to go home to Veser with his feet on the couch playing with that stupid Nintendo when he could be doing something productive but who was he kidding this was Veser for God's sake-

Infuriated, Conrad halted from his jolty pace under a lamplight, kicking the brick wall beside him with all his might. Said wall apparently was too hard for the vampire and he cursed loudly into the dark, gripping the front of his foot with a vengeance. "Damn it all to hell!" he muttered darkly, trying to shake it off and continuing forward with a slight limp.

Oh, could this night get any worse?

Conrad could not say that. He could not, or else it would get worse and the night was still young and AGH! Gripping his head in his hands, Conrad growled darkly. He continued walking past the neon signs that proclaimed each bar, most of which were likely to be shady and greasy and hey, maybe Lamont was in one of them wouldn't that be awkward?

Muttering angrily in his low English accent, Conrad hugged himself, gripping his long black sleeves to the point of tearing. Alright Conrad. Relax. You're just hungry. Well, he knew that. That was so helpful, now, wasn't it? Uncurling his tense fingers from his hoodie sleeves slowly, Conrad was painfully aware of his stomach grumbling, and his hands moved to grab at the area, hopefully to silence it.

He wanted to go home. He needed to go home. Before Veser did something stupid. But he really didn't want to go right now, in this mood. Lord knows it would either block up his artist's muse, or he would draw something extremely violent and he did notwant to explain that to his therapist, not really. Heaven knows she was already suspicious about all his rescheduling.

Sighing weakly (albeit unnecessarily), Conrad paused, leaning against the filthy wall he'd been walking by, making sure not to actually touchit. He'd have to wash this hoodie later. Pushing his glasses out of the way, Conrad rubbed his eyes weakly. He felt a little sick inside, empty. Hollow. Was that because he hadn't been eating?

Heaving an unnecessary sigh (old habits were hard to break), Conrad crossed his arms, eyes closed. Maybe he'd take the long way home tonight. He could try to clear his mind. His therapist had told him the best sort of stress medication was to clear everything away, and with a mind like his, we would do so by ordering it out and shelving it. To do so would take time, time Conrad could get if he just wandered tonight.

And if he wanted to really get away, he could always try to turn into a bat. He was getting used to it (he thought) even though it was uncomfortable. But that would be a last resort.

Scratching his cheek, Conrad carefully pushed himself off the wall and continued walking forward, with no direction in mind. He stuck close to the graffiti-covered wall, and wouldn't stop until his feet would feel ready to give out.

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The sky had long since darkened to the point where Casimiro and Finas were free to venture out into grimy streets of Queens without fear of being reduced to a pile of ash. It was strange when you thought about it. Vampires had so many weaknesses, so many ridiculous flaws… And yet, and yet, they were thought to be the most terrifying creatures in existence- well. They used to be, before that blasted Twilight novel came out.

And the movies.

Dear god.

It gave Casimiro something to laugh about- and he was sure Finas thought it was amusing for a while as well. Sparkling in the sunlight? How delightfully mad of the author to concoct such an inane tall tale.

Though…

Casimiro wasn't doing any laughing tonight. He hadn't been laughing in the past few days really, and the blame mostly settled on the growing pain in his cursed eye. That blasted cursed eye…Admittedly, it looked positively intimidating on the surface, a feature- the only feature Casimiro actually appreciated. Everything else, he hated.

He hated how difficult it was to see out of the eye.

He hated how the pain never went away. Never lost its edge. He'd learned to cope with it- after so many years, how could one not? But the pain was still there…

And lastly, he hated, he hated how it served as a constant reminder of that night.

Of his Sire.

Of her.

And how after so, so many years…

He just couldn't seem able to catch up with her. Never being able to successfully pin her down and finally finish her. She was good at staying one step ahead. He hated that. No, it was more than that- it was driving him nuts.

Not that it ever showed well. And it wasn't because he was repressing his feeling to appear reserved, to appear as though it didn't bother him, to appear dignified in some ludicrous way. No.

There was another reason why he hated the curse. He couldn't get too angry, he couldn't lose control because if he did… if he did…

God…

…No, not God. This was the work of the Devil. It had to be, because at this very moment, his eye was hurting like hell. The cool air that rushed past, enveloping himself and his long, long, long time companion in its chilling embrace did little to distract him. The empty streets below, did little to entrain him, even though he and Finas were perched up high on the rooftop of a random building that Does-Things–That-Don't-Matter for those that Who-Gives-A-Shit. And the….what, seven, eight stars peeking though the mucked up sky certainly did not enchant him.

No, all that mattered was that his eye was hurting, he was more irritated than usual, and as predicted, that red-head was completely useless in finding ANYTHING useful about her.

He was getting impatient.

He stared down intently down at the streets, almost willing a human to wander out alone- someone to not only fest on, but to also vent out his frustrations. "Deficienti!" he spat out to the humans who were not there in growing frustration. "I hate it when the humans take so long to go out!"

Finas was silent beside his taller companion, studying both the night and the vampire at his side. While his opposite watched the streets below, Finas focused on the sky, darkened by the clouds of pollution. He missed the stars in Europe. One could never see them in London, but in the countryside like Derbyshire, the night was clear and beautiful.

He missed home, he supposed. Not greatly, but the traces of reminisce were there every once in a while. He had given up everything for Casimiro, because he had seen his friend's obsession and decided he would stay with him, to rein him in. But Cas was so… drawn in by this need to find his Sire, to remove this curse that he seemed to blame entirely on her… It was too much. Finas was growing tired.

He had noticed his partner's tense behavior. He knew everything about the younger man; did he actually expect to hide it from him? They were the complete opposite of each other, yet they'd been together long enough to almost be able to read each other's mind by seeing the other's face. He could tell Casimiro was aggravated, and he knew why.

But when would he let this go? When would he learn to let everything go, like Finas had long ago, when his family had died? There was a time to hold onto things, and there was a time to move on. Why couldn't his partner understand that?

Drawing his attention back to the streets, Finas's sharp eyes quickly picked out the streak of black and red moving unsteadily down the sidewalk, coming towards them. Almost instantly, he could see every detail of said streak of color, which took form as a man, highly familiar.

"Cas." Even the one syllable was unnecessary; Cas had probably already seen him and recognized him as another spawn of the purple-favoring vampiress. Finas studied the thin gangly vampire below them, his expression blank. The man seemed… tense. Another one of those tonight. Had Finas been human, he would have sighed; as it was, he found no point in wasting breath.

He honestly questioned Adelaide's wisdom when choosing this one. He showed no signs of even trying to be vampiric in the least; if anything, he was more like those vampires in Twilight than real vampires. Which was saying something, because there were no flattering qualities about him.

Thin, pessimistic, and weak, Conrad Achenleck seemed to be under the delusion he was still human. He refused eating like any normal vampire, reduced to blood packets, and even skipping out on those. His glasses made him rather, using an American term, dorky, and his hair… seriously made Finas question his sexuality. When one questions sexuality because of a hairstyle, you know there's a problem.

Despite all this -or perhaps because of it- he was an interesting specimen. Finas enjoyed such puzzles. He hoped to keep this one alive- or, as alive as he was now.

Casimiro continued glaring holes into the pavement below, when he noticed a certain someone having a small fit of sorts as he walked along the sidewalk, totally oblivious that he had a small audience watching him. His first reaction was that there was finally a human he could pummel into- until that whiney tone from the failpire reached his ears. "Would you look at that Finas- it's the kid…" he murmured absent-mindedly. It took a moment for the gears to turn in his mind, but when it did, it did.

"It's the KID!" he repeated, this time with far more enthusiasm. Adelaide's fledging! It was beyond him why he didn't simply go after him- but then, he understood why he may not have taken the kid so seriously (if at all). The kid seemed utterly worthless. And from what he could tell- he didn't even drink fresh human blood- those fresh bite marks were an obvious clue of that.

There must have been a reason, she must have had some kind of contact with him since he last saw him (and kicked him in the face).

He quickly shot up and ran across the edge of the roof top and jumped off the ledge. He knew Finas would know what he was up too, he knew him far too well. But if he did follow, it wasn't so he'd also join in the little interrogation- it'd be most likely to keep Casimiro from losing control again, and keep him from losing his humanity.

He landed expertly onto his feet- just inches from Conrad's face. This wasn't an accident- he enjoyed making an entrance; and if he could intimidate the failpire from the get-go, the chances of him telling him the truth was very high.

Conrad had felt his anger steaming out of him slowly, far too slowly, as he walked. However, his headache had begun to fade, to his relief.

That is, until a certain something landed right in front of him, causing him to curse and stumble back. "Gyuh!" Almost losing his balance, Conrad steadied himself, taking (unnecessary) pants. "Guh- Don't-" such stuttering of the tongue halted almost instantly as Conrad recognized his tormentor, and he felt a frown pull over his face.

It was that absolute arse Casimiro. Reminded of their last meeting together, Conrad resisted the urge to cover his nose. Gah, it had never healed correctly since (Maybe the fact that he hadn't had any fresh human blood didn't help). And he had been shown up by a girl. Oh, sure, Toni was nice, but she seemed to be under the impression he couldn't defend himself.

At least Casimiro had gotten his fair share of beatings from her, too. And she hadn't gotten hurt, thanks to the Casimiro's companion… Finas? Whatever his name was, Conrad was slightly grateful Casimiro had someone to tame him. Though he always seemed a tad late to stop the Italian vampire's shenanigans.

Like now, for instance.

"Any reason why you're trespassing on our hunting grounds kid?" Cas asked with sinister smirk as he narrowed the gap between the two with a harsh jab to the other vampire's chest.

Conrad withheld a hiss. Their hunting grounds? In public? The idiots! He also took offense at the smirk directed at his face, sinister, as though trying to terrorize him. Like that was going to work; all he had managed to do thus far was piss him off further. Besides, it wasn't exactly a secret he didn't hunt.

Cas wasn't going with a direct approach, no, not yet. It'd be honestly kinda fun to shake up the kid first, make him think he did something dreadfully wrong- which in a way he already did. He brought shame to the vampire name- more than that (ugh) book. Not to say he actually cared about the vampire name- just revenge.

Sweet, sweet revenge…

Casimiro didn't give Conrad a chance to respond, not before grabbing the young male by the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall.

Eyes narrowed, the "vampire" felt his offense strengthen as the other jabbed to his chest. He raised his hand to rub the area, about ready to shoot a cold remark as his rebuttal, when he suddenly felt his collar being gripped. Yelping, the short man felt a sharp pain run up his back and through his head as he was slammed into the brick wall he had been clinging to. He flailed madly, slapping at the Italian's wrist pathetically. Upon realizing he wasn't getting anywhere, he finally gave up, throwing his hands down and wincing at his aching head.

"…You're absolutely pitiful- you know that?" the taller laughed.

Upon hearing the man's insult, Conrad looked away sheepishly, actually a little insulted (mainly because he knew it to be true). "Don't remind me," he muttered darkly. He then brought his eyes back up to meet Casimiro's, voice strengthening. "Now can you let go?" His attitude, dark as was, had taken another turn for the worse already.

Casimiro chuckled, but his expression was drifting off into a different direction- a darker one. "…No. I don't think I will."

Oh, where was the man's partner? Why wouldn't he get him out of this already? Looking over the man's shoulder, Conrad noted said partner walking almost nonchalantly towards them, silent as usual. Upon seeing him, Conrad flailed a little more, hoping for a little pity (because he was so sad he actually needed it).

"Casimiro." The man spoke without a glance at him, yet was that a trace of warning in his tone? Was Conrad imagining it, or were there traces of worry in his face?

No, he must be imagining it. He wriggled again, feeling absolutely idiotic. "I haven't even done anything!"

Looked like the kid wasn't as cowardly as Cas had thought- but then it was all too possible that this may just be a severe case of stupidity. He heard Finas coming up behind him and saying his name. He said it in that tone he usually did in when he was warning Casimiro that he may be going too far.

But…he wasn't. This was completely rational. "Relax Finas. I wasn't just randomly attacking this guy," he said, as though he was justifying his actions. He looked at the kid again and responded to him, "And you haven't done anything yet. You will, for me. That is if you want to keep your pretty head on."

Finas's expression darkened only slightly as Casimiro answered him and returned to his little 'interrogation.' The man was such an idiot sometimes. Shaking his head slightly, Finas stepped forward but did not intervene, keeping his face on Casimiro's back and Conrad's face, sending him a slight apologetic look, which was returned with a dark glare (and possibly a pleading expression, but it could have been his imagination).

Finas wasn't stupid. He knew Casimiro. He knew who Sired Conrad. He should already have had an idea of what he was up too. While Casimiro knew that Finas's anger died down long ago, he knew Casimio's only grew.

He knew him so well…

So then… why was he warning him? Even if he wasn't interested in taking revenge anymore, he shouldn't try and get in the way.

His grip tightened on Conrad's collar as he lifted him up a few inches off the ground, still pressing him against the multi-colored paint stained wall. "After all, I dohave some business with him…" His glare grew harsh and raw.

"Your sire. Adelaide. Where is she?" he asked, venom dripping off every word. "You're her new fledging- surely she had some form of contact with you."

He felt his anger growing- and with it his eye burning. He bit at the insides of his cheek in order to keep his fury in check. He didn't want to tear this kid limb from limb before he spilt any useful information. At least…not yet.

"I'm not a very patient man kid. I suggest you start talking," he added. The kid had better not give him a wrong answer. His eye was burning, burning like it usually did when he allowed his emotions to get the better of him.

Cas's captive looked a little sick, sputtering slightly as he was lifted off the ground. He wriggled madly, and Finas withheld a slight disgusted expression, trying to keep his face as blank as possible, as was usual. This was sad, really. The fact that a new fledgling could not even fight off a single-handed grip… Though, it was Casimiro, he was rather strong.

…Was Finas actually defending the failure of a vampire? How peculiar. He quickly drew his attention to said failure, who was trying to form coherent sentences. He seemed to be struggling, due to his… current position.

Conrad started squirming, finally having the desired reaction of fear. Had Casimiro not been so focused on getting answers, he would have stopped and savored the moment. Not to say he was the type to enjoy making others squirm- it was just that Conrad was always such a stuck up priss to him. Seeing him like this would be satisfying to anyone who found the young man's personality less than likable.

At least that was how it was in Casimiro's head.

"I- I don't know!" Conrad spat out, expression twisted from some horrid memory. "The last time I saw that annoying woman-" the man practically shuddered at the word- "I was being shot at! It's not like I've exactly wanted to see the monster that turned me into- this!!" Achenleck's voice actually seemed to strengthen with passion and honesty, and even a little anger as he spoke. This surprised Finas to no end.

But he doubted this answer would please Cas; he had heard the venom in his friend's words, and he had a feeling the eye was burning again. Even if Casimiro would never tell him, the idiot. He really believed he could take care of himself, keep secrets from him.

This was getting far out of hand. Not the interview- the obsession. The obsession with Adelaide. It was far too much for Casimiro to handle alone, and he would never share it with Finas. It could have been different; they could have worked together and planned it carefully, among other things. Casimiro could have lived.

But instead he took up all his time with… with this. It wasn't healthy. People were going to get hurt.

Conrad was looking a little frightened now; something about Casimiro's face was causing him to feel endangered. Finas couldn't see it at this angle, but he could already imagine the expression on Casimiro's face. If things took a turn for the worst, Finas would step in, but right now, no one was getting hurt yet.

When Conrad started yelping about how he had seen Adelaide, no matter how brief the moment may have been, it was more than enough to excite the Italian. "Where? Where did you see her? When was this?" he asked, shaking the failpire slightly, still holding him up in the air.

Had he still had the need for breath, it would have hitched at the suggestion that Conrad may have something useful.

He would have been taking in larger breaths out of anticipation, ready to jump at the next piece of information and just take it and run.

The anger, much to Conrad's luck, temporarily subsided for an irrational high expectation of the quality and accuracy of Conrad's answer- which meant that once he realized that Conrad was a bit too busy trying to live than pay any sort of attention to where Adelaide came from, or even what direction she fled, that rage that had been set aside would come rolling out at him with full force.

As the vampire continued to jump down his throat, seemingly only hearing every other word, Conrad squirmed angrily still, becoming more and more uncomfortable as long as he was pinned to this dirty, dirty wall.

And then he was being shaken and his head was hitting it and ow. He resisted opening his mouth but continued wincing as the back of his head smacked the wall every single time OW. He barely had time to focus on the questions that were being thrown at him left and right. "Guh! Calm the hell down!" he shouted at the man before remembering who the hell he was speaking to and who was pinning who against the wall here.

"All ri- A week ago, at least! Maybe more! I just-" Conrad tried to spit out what he was trying to say already SPIT IT OUT MAN. "I was with some Italian guy- I was being shot at! I- she left before I could know what was going on! Everything was moving so fast- I don't remember where she went!"

He couldn't think straight, his head was hurting, his stomach was screaming, he wanted to go home. And he didn't know if this man was going to kill him but it was goddamn highly likely at this point because he was not helping his own case.

At that moment his stomach decided to prove how annoying it really could be at the worst of times; it burst into another loud growl (no, more than a growl, almost the equivalent of a shout) and he winced. "Fuckin-" It was like he was asking to be killed, he was asking to just piss everyone off, including himself. It was painful, but more than that, it was irritating.

The man felt queasy, both from the situation and the inner turmoil going on. He stuttered weakly –"I don't know- I've told you everything, please let me go!" His eyes shifted from the Italian gripping him to the Englishman behind him. "I just- please!" Reduced to pleading, he squeezed his eyes shut, sickened at his acts, and pained by tight grip on his shoulders.

He could not believe his situation- every night seemed to end negatively for him nowadays. If he wasn't being shot at, he was being insulted by Worth or near-killed by Hanna or knocking Veser's feet off the couch or being smashed against a dirty wall or, heaven forbid, being called by his mother at least once every week. The last thought perhaps wasn't the worst, but it was pretty high up on his list.

At last, Conrad gave up against the hands holding him up, going limp, almost exhausted. He missed the slight worried look that passed over the other Englishman's eyes for barely a moment, as his own were shut in defeat.

He was starving, battered, and tired. He just wanted to go home.

That was… That was the absolutely the worst thing that Conrad could possibly have said to him. That, and the fact that it was painfully obvious that he really wasn't withholding any information. Asides from the fact that he had no reason to protect Adelaide (true, most fledglings do tend to be loyal to their Sires, but Conrad was obviously not spending any time with Adelaide, otherwise he wouldn't have been sucking from blood packets or hanging out with a Zombie and a Ginger when he should have been honing his new-unfound-abilities), his expression, his pitiful, hopeless, desperately helpless expression was just like the one he'd see on a human before he took a little bite.

The expression that screamed 'please don't kill me, I'll say/do anything'

And then the way he just went limp- a signal that he'd given up on fighting back. Did he really have no cards to play, no secrets to reveal?

Was this yet another dead end?

And the fact that Adelaide did meet Conrad but couldn't care enough to aid her own fledgling in fleeing from a Vampire Hunter was a clear sign that not only did she not care for him but might have even left him for dead. Chances were, unless Conrad sought her out himself, he may never see her again (and even then- she was incrediblydifficult to find- Conrad had no hope).

"So then… you're useless then?" he hissed. His humanity- no need to restrain himself anymore for this whelp now, was there? A dead end was a dead end. And if anything, he'd be just as interesting to her dead as alive… well. Just as alive a Vampire could get. And he'd be damned if Finas tried to stop him this time. He knew how much he hated unnecessary violence, but dammit- when would it end? The dead ends, the turn-arounds, the faulty information that sometimes led them across oceans?

"Perhaps it's better that you died then kid," he said in a low voice. "You're a distraction."

The skin peeled back from his eye in wisps of smoke as he retracted his arm to tear into the young artist's face, oblivious to a fourth person approaching the scene.

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Oh, one more thing. I'm going to be gone for the next two weeks, leaving you guys wth this horrible cliffhanger. But don't worry, Ill be back with many more chapters for you to feast on!