Where Carl learns that curiousity has consequences and Van Helsing learns to appreciate the good life...
Carl closed the door behind him and sighed. What an unbelievable day this has been! Really, a caring Universe would give a guy some kind of warning when things are about to go to hell! Remembering the grotesque creatures that had grabbed him, he shuddered. Going to Hell was an apt term indeed.
Realizing that he was aching from the various abuses he had taken tonight, he decided to shower and change before heading down to the lab. Walking into his bedroom he looked at the mess that he had left on his frantic rush to get to his meeting with Langdon. God, that seemed like a lifetime ago. He stripped off his filthy clothes and tossed them on the bed. He knew he should be neater but right now he just couldn't bring himself to care.
He walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on. Waiting for the water to heat up, he glanced at himself in the mirror and noticed the bruises caused by Van Helsing's attack in the car. He winced and made a mental note to himself not to try waking the man unless he was out of striking range. He then turned away from the mirror and climbed into the shower.
The shower was absolute heaven after the trials of the day. This bathroom was the only part of the house that Carl had done anything to and it was his one real indulgence. The shower was large and could comfortably hold three (not that Carl ever had that kind of company) and was designed with multiple showerheads so that he could work out the kinks that long days in the lab could create. Right now it was currently pummeling out the results of his encounters with refugees from a church roof and one very easily startled Monster Hunter.
After ½ hour of soaking, Carl decided he was ready to get out. Grabbing a towel off the heated rack (if one is going to be indulgent, why not go all out?) he briskly toweled himself off. Then, wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked back out into his bedroom. He walked over to his bureau and pulled out some fresh clothes. Pulling on a pair of jeans, he smiled for the first time in hours. This is why he could never work in an office. Grabbing a button up shirt from the closet, he pulled it on and headed towards the door.
He paused for a moment and looked at the door to the guest room where Van Helsing slept. He was still finding it hard to believe that someone like the Hunter existed outside of books and movies. But he was real; Carl had the bruises to show for it. And to think, all of this happened because Carl had wanted a cheeseburger and fries! And a milkshake a tiny voice in his head chimed in. Carl shook his head, remember the pub he had eaten in and then decided that in light of the day he had suffered, he was well within his rights to have a bowl of ice cream.
He happily headed downstairs to the kitchen where a ½ gallon of chocolate chocolate chip was waiting for him. He served himself a big bowl of it and sat down at the kitchen table to eat it. Ice cream was one of Carl's favorite treats and it was the only thing that could be guaranteed to be in the house at all times. He happily devoured the bowlful and childishly licked the bowl.
The ice cream had put him in a much better mood and he decided that he would check on his guest before heading into the lab and tackling his latest problem. Wandering back up the stairs, his mind was occupied with energy outputs, rotation ratios and other matters and he was all the way to Van Helsing's door before he pulled himself back to the present. Easing the door open quietly, he entered; keeping in mind that this was not someone you wanted to approach carelessly.
Keeping a careful distance from the bed, he tried to access his current guest. The man was laying on his back and seemed to be sleeping peacefully enough. Carl felt an overwhelming urge to push a stray lock away from the man's face but restrained himself. He had already been strangled once tonight and that was enough.
He started to turn to leave when he noticed something on the bedside table. He realized they were the holsters that Van Helsing had been wearing on his forearms when Carl had cleaned him up. He had assumed they were guns of some kind but looking closer he realized they were something else.
Carl suffered from incurable curiosity (a trait he claimed made him a superior inventor) and the siren call of these strange devices could not be resisted. He glanced over at the sleeping man and then ever so slowly reached out and picked them up. He pulled one from the holster and realized it must be the weapon Van Helsing had used on the gargoyles. He looked at it closer and was about to trigger it when a sound came from the bed.
Startled, Carl froze and then realized that it was merely Van Helsing moving in his sleep. Still, Carl realized that if he wanted to examine these things closer, he was going to have to leave the room with them. He fought briefly with his conscience since Van Helsing had not given him permission to touch them but in the end, curiosity won out and he snuck from the room with holsters in hand.
He headed down to his lab and turned on the lights. Unlike the rest of the house which was all antiques and old fashioned, this was state of the art and gleaming. Several computers were lined up along the counters and equipment of all shapes and sizes was covering every available surface. Tucked in the back corner was Carl's desk, buried in papers, trade publications and reference books.
He walked over to one of the work counters and set down the holsters. He removed one of the weapons and could see right away that it was damaged. Probably from one of the gargoyles. He set it down carefully and took out the other weapon. This one seemed to be intact and Carl very carefully examined every inch of it before determining where the triggering mechanisms were. He held it very gingerly by the handle and triggered the weapon. Blades shot out from the center and began whirling in a very deadly fashion. Carl looked at it with mingled horror and fascination before releasing the trigger. The blades slowed and retracted into the center again.
An interesting design and certainly effective for the kind of work its made for. Triggering the weapon again, he watched it with more of a clinical eye. While the weapon had proven sufficient against the gargoyles, it was clear that it wasn't effective enough, judging from the one that was damaged. The gargoyles had particularly tough bodies. Carl had tried to hit one with a trash barrel and the thing had just collapsed on contact with the hard body. He wondered what the blades were made of… and it seemed to him that the rotation ratio was a bit slow for slicing through things as tough as a gargoyle….
Carl didn't have a moment's struggle with his conscious this time. He pulled open a drawer and began to pull out tools. He then began to take apart the weapons to get a better look at them.
Van Helsing woke the next morning and had a moment of disorientation. This was clearly not his bed or his apartment. And while he had woken up in strange places before, they generally didn't include four-poster beds and flower arrangements on the dresser. Fortunately increased consciousness also brought a return of memory and he realized he was in Carl's guest room. Unfortunately increased consciousness also brought with it the need to piss and it was with much groaning and cursing that he got out of bed and headed over to the bathroom. Turning on the light switch he looked at the bathroom and realized it was twice the size of his kitchen. Still, nature called so he abandoned his thoughts on the lives of the rich and took care of business. Looking in the mirror, he decided that a shower was in order and turned on the water. The air was soon filling with steam and Van Helsing had moment of sourness as he thought of his own apartment with its uncertain water temperature and pressure. Ah well, enjoy it while you can. Soon as geekboy knows you are up, he'll be packing you up and sending you on your way. Fighting a sense of disappointment, he stepped carefully into the shower and let the water wash over him.
The hot water did wonders for his mood and went a long way towards easing some of his aches. He probed gently at his shoulder and realized it was healing well. The ribs still hurt like the bugger but it had at least closed in the night. He'd need to stay in bed for a few more days but he wasn't likely to lose any more blood.
He finished washing up and turned off the water. Grabbing a towel off the rack, he dried himself off and dropped the towel on the floor. He started to walk out of the bathroom and then stopped. He turned and picked up the towel and hung it back on the rack. No point in being a sloppy houseguest.
He walked naked back into the bedroom and grabbed his clothes. The shirt was ruined and he decided not to bother. Maybe Carl could lend him something to wear home. He pulled on his jeans and reached to the bedside table to grab his tojos. His hand froze when he realized that the weapons were gone.
He sat stunned for a moment but then anger overcame him. Carl must of have taken them. There was no one else in the house. He stormed out of the bedroom and pounded on Carl's bedroom door. When there was no answer, he wretched open the door. The bed still held the clothes that Carl had worn the night before. Clearly the man hadn't slept here.
He marched down the hall and headed down the stairs. He looked around for a moment and tried to figure out where the treacherous little weasel had gone. He thought he heard music from somewhere in the back of the house and he headed off toward it. His tracking led him into what looked like a lab. And there, slumped sound asleep at the counter was the weasel himself.
"Carl!" He bellowed angrily. Carl, startled from a sound sleep, proceeded to fall off the chair he had been sitting on. Carl's sudden disappearance from view revealed the tojos laying out next to their holsters. Van Helsing shot across the room and scooped up the weapons.
Carl, blearily blinking his eyes, picked himself up off the floor. This was not a good way to start a day. He looked at the clearly irate Hunter with confusion until he saw the weapons that he was holding. He realized he was going to need to talk fast before the Hunter really lost it.
"I'm sorry, it just that I saw that one of them was damaged and so I brought it down here to fix it and while I was fixing it, I realized that power source was really archaic so I decided that I really couldn't just leave it like that so I made a few modifications which then made me realize that the blades were now no longer sufficient to the new torque ratios so I made adjustments to them…" He trailed off at the alarming shade of red that Van Helsing had turned. He gulped and began slowly backing away.
Van Helsing stared at Carl with a mixture of horror and rage. "You did WHAT?" He advanced on the smaller man who continued to back up with an absolutely terrified look on his face.
Carl swallowed hard and tried to make his mouth work. "I made a few modifications. I swear the weapons are just fine. In fact they are better then fine. Trust me, I know what I'm doing". He had backed himself up against a cabinet and looked wildly about for an avenue of escape.
Van Helsing pinned Carl to the cabinet and said "If you have damaged these in any way, I'm going to do things to you that will make you wish you had never been born.
Carl gulped and said, "Please, just try them out. I swear I've only made them better." He looked pleadingly at the Hunter and once again cursed the curiosity that always got him into so much trouble.
Van Helsing glared at the terrified man for a few moments and then stepped back. He looked at the tojo for a moment and then handed it to Carl. "Here, you use it. If it's going to blow up or cut someone's hand off, I'd rather it be yours."
Carl thought to protest this but looking at the angry face of the Hunter decided now was not the time. He took the tojo with a shaking hand and stepped towards a cinder block he had used earlier to test the weapon. He triggered the weapon and then brought it down towards the cinderblock. Van Helsing let out a cry of warning but the tojo blade just sliced through the block like it was a piece of wood. Carl then stopped the blade and turned back towards Van Helsing.
Van Helsing was stunned. The tojo could never have done that before. He looked at where Carl was standing, fear written all over him. It appears that the geek really did know what he was doing. He triggered the tojo that was in his own hand and noticed that the whine was a much higher pitch then before. Clearly Carl had found a way to speed up the blades. He stopped the blade and looked at Carl again. He was biting his lower lip and Van Helsing found himself wanting to give the man a hug to make up for yelling at him. The man really was phenomenally cute, like some loveable puppy.
Carl could see the anger draining out of Van Helsing and began to relax a little. Apparently he wasn't going to die just yet. He walked very cautiously over to the Hunter and handed him the other weapon. He decided that an apology probably wasn't a bad idea.
"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken the weapons without your permission. You are clearly very attached to them and waking up and finding them gone must have been pretty scary. After all your life depends on them." Carl ducked his head in embarrassment and mumbled, "I promise I'll never do anything like that again".
Van Helsing looked at the squirming man and again had to stifle the urge to hug him. He looked so much like a little boy who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He just sighed and said, "I'll let it slide. Just this once you understand. Since you fixed them and all." He suddenly realized that thanks to Carl's inability to restrain his curiosity, he no longer needed to make a trip back to headquarters. He grinned and said, "You know geekboy. You may have done me a favor. Thanks to your fix-it job, you've saved me getting my ass chewed by my boss"
Carl looked up with an eager to please look on his face. "Really? That's great. You know, if you like, I can draw up schematics about the modifications I did. Really, you would think that with the things you are fighting, they'd at least equip you with modern weaponry. "
Van Helsing just grimaced. "These are not exactly "moving with the times" kind of people, Carl. If it worked in the Middle Ages, then it works now." He reached across the counter to grab the holsters for the tojos and let out a groan.
Carl immediately moved to Van Helsing's side. "Are you ok? Maybe you shouldn't be out of bed? You lost a lot of blood last night, you probably should be resting." As he spoke he examined Van Helsing's bandages looking to see if he was bleeding again.
Van Helsing watched Carl fuss with a certain amount of amusement. It was fascinating watching the way this man's mind jumped from one subject to the next, seemingly without pause. Still, he had to admit, now that the anger had drained away he was feeling remarkably tired. When he got back to his place, he was really going to need to take it easy for a couple of days.
Carl frowned as he looked at his dark haired companion and made a decision. "Come on, Van Helsing. I'm getting you back to bed. You really shouldn't be up and about" He grabbed Van Helsing's arm and slung it over his shoulder. He then proceeded to drag the man towards the door.
Van Helsing was surprised. Get him back to bed? He was supposed to be leaving now. One night's stay and then it was back to his own sordid little world where rich little geeks never come. That was the game plan so why was Carl changing it now?
"Look, if this is because of the weapons, forget it. You managed to fix them and I said I'd let it slide. You don't have to do this". He tried planting his feet but this only ended up causing him pain. He tried biting back the groan but wasn't completely successful.
Carl, hearing the groan said, "I'm doing this because it's clear you are in no shape to be running around anywhere. I'm going to put you back to bed and you are going to stay here until you are well enough to deal with those nightmare things that are running around the city. I don't know what your superiors are thinking leaving you alone out here without backup. Its positively criminal!"
Van Helsing couldn't resist a bitter smile. He was out here on his own because his so-called superiors couldn't stand him. Neither could his fellow Hunters. He didn't play by the rules and he didn't kiss ass. Not the way to win friends and influence people.
While he was musing on the state of his life, Carl had managed to drag him to the foot of the stairs. Carl eyed them - they looked rather daunting and he remembered how bad they were the last time.
Van Helsing looked at Carl and said with a smirk, "Well, what's the problem geekboy?" He knew he had hit a soft spot by the way Carl stiffened.
Carl snapped "Don't call me geekboy. I have a name. " He was unconsciously pouting and Van Helsing found himself developing an instant addiction to the sight. He decided that while he was here he was going to see just how often he could get Carl to do it. He smirked to himself as Carl dragged him up the stairs.
He could have made the stairs by himself – not gracefully but he would have made it – but Carl seemed bound and determined to help him and Van Helsing couldn't bring himself to stop him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken such pains for him before and while he hated to admit it, he did enjoy it. So he allowed himself to be dragged along and listened to Carl promising to bring him breakfast as soon as he got him settled. All and all, it wasn't so bad.
Carl breathed a sigh of relief when he got the Hunter back to his room. While it wasn't as bad as last night, it still took a lot out of him getting him back. He resolved to start that weight lifting program as soon as his guest left. Getting him over to the bed he helped the man sit down. He checked him over quickly for any signs that his wounds had reopened but everything looked fine. Really fine actually. God the man had amazing muscle definition. Carl shook himself. He really needed to stop this. He straightened up quickly and said "You lay back and I'll go make you some breakfast. Hope eggs over easy and toast works for you because I'm not much of a cook".
Van Helsing just nodded and said "that's fine. I'm not much of a fussy eater. If it doesn't fight back, I'll call it a meal." Carl looked at Van Helsing for a moment, as if considering if he was serious, then mentally shrugged and then said "OK, I'll be back in a little bit."
Van Helsing watched the man retreat from the room and smiled to himself. So he really is serious about taking care of me. Works for me. Wonder how often I can get him to bend over for things…