DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: It's a bit late for April first...but yeah, busy weekend! An Easter one will be posted in a day or so. It's really, really random so just... go with itXD Leave a review if you can!

Griffin stared at the wall above. The wall stared back down at him… he wasn't sure what happened exactly, why he was passed out on the Lair's floor and staring up at the ceiling, but he was kind of afraid why. But then all the pubs, bars and taverns he hit, trickled back to his head and the hangover induced headache pounded harder and louder.

He groaned and rolled to his side, curling into a tight, little ball. He knew today would be one of those days; the one where to just move hurt and he buried his face in the conveniently placed blanket underneath his head. Wait a minute…

Griffin froze, not moving a muscle, and listened. He was in his bedroom, on the floor near his bed and obviously, he meant to fall onto the bed before he completely passed out but he must have missed. He didn't have time to grab a blanket or whatever the hell was under his head!

"David," he muttered and scrambled up, only to clutch his stomach and swallow down the bile that rose in his throat. He swayed for a moment, gripping the loose sheets he had on his bed before he took a hesitant step forward. Feeling slightly more confident he wasn't going to get sick (holy shit, how many drinks did I have?! I normally hold myself fairly good…), Griffin exited the room to find.

"David!" The word hissed out like when water was thrown onto a small heat surface. David turned around, outfitted in a far subtler look than last time he was here (I'm never wearing green in my life- ever), and gave a wide grin. He placed the new controller on the floor and hopped up, trying to compose himself.

"Griffin? Look's who's awake! I figured-"

"I don't care! Get out!"

Last time, David broke Griffin's precious controller… this one was wireless and it did come out of Griffin's (stolen) pocket money so he'll murder David without batting an eyelash (not that he would even wait to see if David did anything; he'd kill him just for fun!). All in all, Griffin didn't want the incident happening again.

"I wouldn't get angry if I were you… who knows what a non-drunk person may do to a hangover guy." David smirked.

Well, that's a first for David threatening. A very first. He's never been like this before… what's going on? Aw, shit, something is going on! God, what is he going to do today? Griffin thought slowly, trying to avoid adding more pain to his headache.

"Is that a threat?"

"Yeah."

Griffin sighed, his eyes darting around until they settled back on the man in the middle of his lair. Griffin just wanted to kick him out, literally, so he could have a hangover in peace and try to sleep it off so he could get back on track to fighting Paladins tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow…

"Griffin? Griffin!" David said, frowning at him.

"What?" Griffin said, realizing he had spaced out.

David laughed and Griffin scowled, glaring at him.

"Man, that guy must have hit you really hard!" David chuckled again, his eyes darting to Griffin's face. What? A bar fight? Griffin frowned, trying to see if he remembered that… nope. Shit!

"Hit me? What happened last night!" he demanded.

"Oh nothing!" David said in a girly voice and laughed.

"What happened last night, David Rice!" Griffin growled, taking three threatening, swaying steps toward him and his index finger blurred in front of him. David's eyes bulged a bit and then he started to chew his lip.

"Err… do you have a mirror? Anywhere?" David was asking the most random questions.

"What?" Griffin squeaked, still in a bit of shock that he was hit. And the alcohol was still in system too and he glanced around, his eyes landing on the lights… this lights were so blue! Wonderful, bright, light blue lights! Griffin giggled at the stupid, immature thought and bowed his head, trying to smother his laughter.

David popped directly back to the room, giving Griffin a wary and what-is-he-doing look.

"Griffin…"

"Pfftt…what?" Griffin said, puckered his lips trying to control himself.

"Are you okay?" David asked, taking a few steps away from the man. Quite actually, his cheeks were getting this pink color from trying to keep his laughter under control.

"Uh…" Griffin frowned, tilted his head and then shook it. "No! Ah! What did you put in my drinks?!" Obviously he was just spacing out once in a while…

"What? Me! I'm insulted Griffin! Why would I do that-"

Griffin got right in his face, alcohol strong on his breath and David wrinkled his nose at the stench.

"I don't know! You did leave me in the middle of the fucking desert, in a fucking electrical tower and surrounded by men with guns! Oh yes, that isn't against your morals but poisoning someone's drink- nope!"

"Griffin-"

"Well, I'm going to find out what you did!"

"Griffin-"

The slightly crazed, still partly drunk man raced out of the cave at the speed… of a slightly crazed and still partly drunk man could possibly go. He jumped away about a yard away from the Lair's entrance.

"What the hell just happened?" David asked, looking around.

Well, the narrator started, it's his-

"Aw, where'd he go?" David continued, ignoring the voice and walked outside, spotting the jumpscar.

Why doesn't anyone listen to me? Why not? I'm a good person, haven't broken the laws at all-

David leapt through the jumpscar, leading to where he didn't know and followed after the man. The voice was left sobbing it's heart out.

"Gotta find it, gotta find it," Griffin muttered and glanced around, running a shaking hand through his hair. Shaking? Whatever, he didn't care. God, he probably was going to die in any minute! How wrong is that? Griffin O' Connor- dying! Ha!

Griffin chuckled darkly and shook his head, starting to jog when he felt the Rice kid jump over here. Damn kid should stalk someone else! He thought bitterly. Kid was so annoying… Griffin stopped, glanced over his shoulder and slipped into an alley. Hopefully that'll get David off his tail! Griffin saw the lights; music blared from inside and he could just smell the drinks being served. This had to be it… where did he jump again? Griffin shook his head and was about to step in when David appeared behind him and threw him back after he grasped the Brit's shoulder. Griffin's breath whooshed out as he landed with a thud against the ground.

Why didn't he jump? Oh right, he's still kind of… out of it.

"What the bloody fucking hell was that for?!" he screeched. Obviously, his language doesn't improve; it's actually gotten worse!

David raised his eyebrows in slight surprise but not shock; to some point, he was surprised at all. Griffin without swearing was like… David lost his train of thought and spoke: "Wow, Griffin… you're the mad drunk. Most normal people are kind of-"

Griffin didn't really like the words coming out of David's mouth, so he decided to cut him off. "Ah! Get out of the way or I'll… I'll…" Griffin growled at the end, literally growled and jabbed a finger in David's direction.

David sighed and shook his head. "And you'll do what?"

"I'll… I'll drown you!"

"Griffin, I could jump away." Well, no duh, David! But unfortunately, Griffin wasn't at his best

"Fuck you! Now can you get out of the way?" he said with an angry huff. David chuckled.

"Can I?"

"Fine, be a dumbshit, now move the hell out of the way!"

"Griffin, you could have-"

"I know, I know! I could have jumped, blah, blah, blah!" Griffin threw up his hands and disappeared with a pop and a giant gust of wind. David shielded his eyes from the sand and dirt that blew into the wind, smashing into whatever got in their way.

"Damn idiot!"

Ha-ha, David, I'm back! The voice was back! I'm so totally going to find-

"May as well follow him, so he doesn't get into too much trouble." David muttered half-heartedly. He actually didn't want to be even associated with Griffin at the moment; actually… who wanted to be? This was almost as bad when he was explaining the whole "They'll get your family, friends, blah, blah, blah" and then asked him if he wanted tableware! Who does that?!

Back to the story, David leapt through the damn jumpscar, irritated to the bone when he heard a squeal. And it was Griffin. What happen? Did he run into a wall? David sighed and jogged to the other side of the corner, seeing Griffin get dragged into a tattoo parlor. Oh god… it was the big guy from St. Patrick's Day! David debated leaving him but sighed heavily again and went through the door.

Griffin lay strap to a chair, swearing, threatening, whatever violent word or words he could think of, were said directed at the man in front of him. The man was the human equivalent of the Hulk! Except he had pretty little unicorns decorating his ripped jean jacket, colorful flowers and other classic girl junk on his clothing. David knew it was a joke, but… well, Griffin didn't.

David was in on a lot of things that Griffin wasn't.

"What the hell! Let me go! Damnit! Let me go! Why in hell are you wearing that shit? You look like a fucking-" A piece of Ducktape, a wonderful and amazing invention, was slapped and patted over Griffin's mouth. His eyes widen when he saw the tattoo gun-thing roar to life, the twirling noise making him start to sweat.

So what did manly, super tough and anti-social Griffin do? The only thing a slightly crazed, still part drunk man could do: he screamed. Loudly. Even through the tape, which muffled the actual words, it was loud. The tattoo gun was dropped and with that threat gone, just to be safe of course, Griffin struggled in his seat. The chair- it wouldn't let him go!

David, figuring the poor man was probably at his wit's end, un-strapped him and Griffin left like that. Just disappeared. David smiled, laughed and shook his head. Then he turned to the tattoo man.

"I told you it'd work out."

The man laughed a deep rumble and agreed. "Yup, you proved me wrong. Do you think he'll be alright?"

"Aw, he's fine Frank. Thanks!" David handed the actually quite nice man a couple of ten-dollar bills and then followed after his 'friend'. Where did this jumpscar lead? The Lair lay out in front of David, the sand soft and hot as always. The sun beat down on him and already caused sweat started to roll down his neck. He noticed a black slump at the beginning of the lair, sprawled on their stomach.

Next to Griffin was a puddle of his stomach contents. Oh, that's always nice; puke, right at your front door! David laughed though, knowing that last night's pubs, taverns and bars had worked out in his favor. He in fact, paid for the second half of Griffin's drinks. They had a bet last night; David bet that Griffin wouldn't remember what happened last night tomorrow and Griffin bet that he would. It was obvious who won the bet.

David kicked more dirt over the mess (it wasn't his place after all) and dragged the man into the Lair. David placed Griffin right in his bedroom again, threw a couple of blankets on top of him and smashed a pillow into his face. Griffin remained still.

"Huh," David mumbled and then walked back out to the little living room of the Lair. He plopped himself into Griffin's chair, cracked open a soda and decided to mess with Griffin's games.

"AHH! Get the fuck away from me!" Griffin screamed, leaping up and glanced around. He wasn't in a tattoo parlor… his head fell into his hands as his headache pounded in his head. He had one in his dream too. Irony was at work. Yeah, it was just a dream. A greatly screwed up dream but a dream nonetheless. I wonder… Griffin got up slowly and wandered into the living room, peeking around one of the towers.

No noise. No rustling or shifting of someone. No David Rice! Griffin let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and walked out. Then of course, David had to surprise him.

"Hi Griffin!"

The man leapt back from David, shielding his face from any attacks. When he realized who it actually was, he lowered his defenses and scowled at him. Stupid moron. Griffin narrowed his eyes angrily and pointed to the door. David just laughed and yawned.

"How'd you sleep?" David asked.

"You're creepy." Griffin muttered, throwing himself into the chair.

"No, not creepy. Curious."

Griffin rolled his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin and firm straight line; he debated in his head whether or not to tell David his dream. What the hell! A dream is a dream- it won't hurt anyone if he told him. Griffin took a deep breath and retold his dream, keeping in mind to edit a few parts here and there (I don't scream! I give war cries, damn it…)

David just started to laugh his ass off when Griffin finished talking. He laughed and laughed; tears formed in his eyes, threatening to roll over. Griffin stared at the man, wondering what he had for breakfast… or lunch or whatever meal was closest to whatever time it was.

David wiped away the tears and said between gasps of air, "Griffin…that… wasn't… a dream!" He laughed some more.

"You're lying."

"Nope. Happy April Fool's Griffin."

"How does that have any relevance- wait…" Griffin stopped talking, thinking hard in his drunken mind… it flooded back to him. The bet. The date. What was so special on the date, April first. He slowly turned to David, his blue eyes smothering like blue flame.

"I'll give you a ten second start."

"I'll just leave…" David snickered, backing out. Griffin held up his index finger.

"One," two fingers, "two," three fingers, "three…" David laughed and disappeared. Griffin slouched closer into his comfortable chair, muttering curses in every language he knew. But Griffin O' Connor wasn't going down… what's the next holiday?

"Wait till then, David Rice… wait till then and you'll be sorry for the shit you gave me… oh, you'll be sorry." Griffin grinned, picked up his controller and started to play.

Do you know how hard it was to find you too?! God, I was all the way in Russia when I realized you two weren't there!

Griffin glanced around, the voice bouncing off the walls. "Who's there?"

Me, you dumb ass! The voice, the one that was bothering David during your little 'dream'-

Griffin shook his head, turned up the volume warily and glanced around again before he settled into the game. Grumbling came from the air above him and Griffin wondered: have I gone schizophrenic? When the question went unanswered, Griffin decided he wasn't and went to his game.

I'll be back! Whispered the voice…

"Damn fourth wall; it keeps breaking." Griffin muttered and shut off the video game.