A/N: God, I hate camping. Hate.

So tomorrow's my birthday. Yay fucking me.

Sorry, I'm not in the happiest of moods.

Taking a break from bromance angst, back to a nearly-forgotten failpire and hunter. Official end of night one as well.

Here's your stinking chapter.

|.|.|.|.|

"Mr. Achenleck… Just get in the car."

Conrad looked up, frowning. What the hell was that tone? The hunter just sounded like he was sick of him already. It was just a bit insulting.

Well, he hoped he irritated the man. He took his phone, and was going to be in his home. Conrad had a feeling it was going to be a long stakeout.

Nevertheless, Conrad obliged the hunter's-Abner's- command and slipped into the car seat, buckling his seat belt habitually and wincing as the ferret jumped into the back. Mum had never let him have animals as a child, and after a few bad situations in which he'd gotten bitten/scratched/just plain injured and had been taken to the hospital each time because his mother was overly obsessive ("what if it had rabies, love? Or fleas?") he had just decided to avoid anything that walked on all fours altogether.

"Where do you live Mr. Achenleck?"

Conrad squirmed slightly, a bit uncomfortable with giving this information. However, after a moment's pause, he got over that small mental hurdle and cleared his voice lightly. "B-By 29th and 166th Street," he muttered, eyes on the dashboard, noting the lack of personal possessions, the lack of the homely feel. It just felt a bit stiff and, to his sharp nose, the scent of chemicals was a bit obvious. "It's, ah, the four story apartment." In truth his apartment building was shorter than most, which towered above his own dauntingly. But it was on a more decent side of town, and he was comfortable there.

Abner gave a small nod of acknowledgment as the car began to pull forward. He was familiar with the area- but it was an area where he received his clients, not where the scourge of the underworld normally lived. He decided that Conrad ether owned his apartment or still had his job to pay rent. But what could a Vampire possibly do for income? It wasn't like they had flexible working hours- perhaps a night shift? Or maybe he worked from home?

He'd find out eventually, he decided and focused on the road. There wasn't much traffic at all, and thankfully his passenger remained silent for the majority of the drive. Through he was uneasy for numerous of reasons- he rarely ever had a passenger, human or not. And usually, his hostages went in the trunk. But clearly, Mr. Achenleck was more than cooperative enough to be allowed some privileges.

Still.

He was a vampire.

A monster.

The artist stared out the window awkwardly, arms crossed, pulled into his body, almost rather… not shyly, but possibly the equivalent. He didn't want to touch the car, didn't want to make anyone mad. He just wanted to please.

Abner glanced at the man whenever the car paused at a red light or a stop sign. He wasn't trying anything funny, and seemed to be curling up into himself. He wasn't doing anything wrong, and as far as Abner could gather, hadn't done anything wrong.

Abner almost found himself wishing he would. It'd make things a bit easier for him if the enemy acted like an enemy. He'd be damned if he were made to feel bad about mistreating a vampire.

The car ride was quiet, at best. It mainly consisted of nervous glances at the hunter on the vampire's part. When he wasn't casting side glances, he was staring out the window, at the flashing lights of red and green. He calmed slightly, his shoulders relaxing and drooping… The pains and stresses of the night began to melt away as Conrad gave a weak sigh and fell back into the seat.

The drive was quiet. He glanced again at Conrad, only to see him relaxing into his seat. He… really wasn't going to try anything was he?

He focused again on the road, tightening his fingers on the wheel. No, no he couldn't allow himself to drop his guard. Even though he was a fledging, even though he still acted like a human, he was still a vampire. His instinct was to kill. To tear into human's flesh and to drain them dry of their life force.

He was a human. He couldn't afford to… relax around this fledging, no matter how weak he may appear at the moment.

Conrad nearly missed the apartment. "A- Here." He pointed quickly at it, snapping back out of his haze. "S-Sorry." He was apologizing for his lack of attention, his relaxation around the man who wasn't hesitant to kill him. He didn't really have a reason, but he just was.

Abner snapped his head back at Conrad, to see him pointing at an apartment complex. He ignored his apologies, as he turned in quickly into a nearby parking spot. Instinctively, Paradox jumped out from the back seat, onto flat between the two front seats momentarily. The creature looked up at Conrad and hissed at him before climbing onto his owner's broad shoulders before the man exited the car.

As they pulled into the parking garage, Conrad tensed again, finger on the seatbelt latch. But when the rat-ferret-thing jumped onto the middle, his hand pulled back quickly. The artist cringed slightly as the animal hissed at him, and for a brief moment he contemplated hissing back, then (over)thought against it. Such a decision seemed wise in retrospect as it leapt onto its master's shoulders as the hunter exited.

For a brief moment, Conrad stayed frozen in the car, eyes following the moving man outside of it. Then he too, snapped into his senses and exited the car, fingers nearly catching on the buckle in his haste. He also caught his fingers in the slamming door, but was luckily (for once) quick enough to pull away fast enough. Sheepishly, the vampire turned to the back of the car, arms crossed protectively over his chest once again.

The trunk was opened, and Conrad frowned at the bag lying there. Obviously, the hunter seemed to have been lying when he said that this had been short notice. How often did he do this anyway?

…Well, in a vampire home? Probably never.

Such thoughts drew Conrad back to the phone call "Abner" had shared with his… niece?

"You always kill your hostages in the end so it never matters!"

Conrad swallowed. God, god, god. Already he had begun to regret his decision. But what choice did he have? Every second/minute/day he spent with this man, complaining or regretting or whatever, was another moment still alive. So what was left?

Conrad was self-preserving first, over-thinking second, and complaining third. In that order. So in a way, what he was doing was in his moral code.

The hunter eyed Conrad getting out of the car carefully as he popped open the trunk to remove a pre-packed duffle bag. "Mr. Achenleck," he commented suddenly.

Conrad's head snapped up and out of his thoughts. What? What did-

"I have to say, your cooperation so far has been quite surprising. Keep it up, and this entire ordeal will seem much less agonizing."

Conrad blinked in surprise, looking the hunter in the eye (not that he could be sure with those goggles) for the briefest moment before snapping his head away. To hear the man say such a thing was…. Odd, for a lack of a choice of words. His arms tightened only slightly around his shoulders, and the artist looked down rather sheepishly. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered weakly, turning to enter the apartment building, still processing.

Agonizing.That seemed to be the key word there. It sunk into Conrad like lead in a pool of molasses, sifting in and making him feel sick with its slow progress. He tried to shrug it off.

"Er… let's just go up." He bit his lip nervously and turned to the stairs, hesitant to head up.

The apartment Conrad had once called home was on the third story, but he hadn't called it home in a long time. Home was somewhere where you were meant to be safe, protected. And in the last few months, he couldn't have called it that, not when it had been taken roost by a vampire murderess, had become a home to a half-selkie kid, and was about to be the temporary home for a vampire hunter. Not when said vampiress had killed him, said half-selkie had driven him insane, and said hunter was ready to hunt him.

So it wasn't home anymore. Just an apartment where he lived. Nothing more really. Yet he kept it clean and tidy, kept everything in order, because that's what he always did. The routine was somewhat relaxing. He would never change that.

The vampire slowly pulled out his key upon arriving to the door. As he entered it into the lock, he rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Veser had, thankfully, locked the slightly banged-up door upon exiting—that was a relief. Veser wasn't an idiot, but he was often forgetful.

Turning the key in the lock, Conrad's fingers left his face to brush the slightly impressed numbers on the door. 2236. Familiar and artful. But never again home.

His hands grabbed the handle, turned, pushed the door open. And quickly, Conrad slipped in, just remembering to leave it open for his "companion".

It was neat, still, neater than he could have hoped for. Veser must have just grabbed some clothes right off the floor and left. Still, the artist winced at the dishes left in the sink, the stray sock lying near the bathroom door. "Ah, jeez. S-Sorry, hang on-" Conrad scrambled to neaten the mess, the almost nonexistent mess. Hands grabbed at the sock, shoved dishes into the washer. The same hands ran themselves under hot water with soap quickly, and shook the droplets off just as fast. Rubbing his hands together, Conrad turned back to his company hesitantly.

Following Conrad up the stairs, VanSlyk remained silent. The stairs were abandoned, and unsurprisingly enough given the ungodly time. This was good; there was no need for neighbors to start spreading around unhelpful rumors.

There wasn't much to say on the condition of the building other then it seemed rather expensive to live in. He was curious to learn how Mr. Achenleck managed to live here exactly- he guessed that it was likely it wasn't through any illegal methods. He seemed too…

Entering the actual apartment, he was quietly pleased to see that it was in fact cleaner then what he would normally see in other people's homes. Mr. Achenleck seemed flustered over the mess the… human had left behind. Taking this moment of distraction, he turns his head to Paradox. "Sweep."

It was a short command; one the ferret was all too happy to follow as he bound onto the floor and scurried across the floor, disappearing into the halls. Paradox's job was to make sure that there really wasn't anyone else in the apartment. He waited for a few seconds, never hearing his pet barking angrily or suspiciously.

"Er…. So, this is it?" The statement fell off as a question, as if Conrad were looking for some sort of approval (and deep down, he really was).

Abner returned his attention his "host". Was he seeking… approval? Exhaling softly, he moved his gloved hand to free his face from the mask and goggles. He only wore them in case of a potential fight- therefore potential blood splatters. But it seemed that nothing of the sort would be happening soon. "Hrm…"

As Conrad sheepishly stood before his guest like a child before a parent, he paused briefly for a moment to question the wisdom of his actions (for what must have been the third or fourth time that night). He was taking in a hunter for God's sake. A killer. Perhaps the man didn't see it like that, but still. And the hunter wouldn't hesitate to kill him, of course he wouldn't care i-

Said hunter lifted a hand and Conrad cringed slightly away, only to be witness to the strangest sighting; "Abner" had removed his mask. Said action revealed deep-set eyes and a straight nose, a tight and straight mouth, and dark and thick sideburns.

A face to his captor and guest.

Peering at the hunter, the artist resisted biting his lip in something akin to intrigue. Such an interesting sort of face, with nearly sharp planes and impossible curves. Somewhere deep in Conrad's little artfaggy heart, he wanted to draw that face. Only for a lingering moment of course, but…an interesting face.

It was surprisingly clean- far better than how those other vampires normally leave behind their living spaces anyways. But it was still… tainted. Someone that shouldn't be alive was 'living' here. Not that Abner planned on answering his questions; even if it was mostly harmless.

Internally shaking his mind clear, Conrad blinked rapidly in anxiety and pushed his glasses up his nose as the hunter studied his home. He paused for a moment, trying to return his focus on what he had been thinking before he had gotten distracted by… let's not think about it. Where was he?

Ah, right. The hunter wouldn't hesitate to kill him, he didn't care the monsters had been people before. If they had lives or families or… wait. Where was the rat?

Just then the hunter heard Paradox barking in the other room, and a loud clattering. Before he could move, the ferret zipped back into the living room, back leg tangled in a strange cord, weighed down by a stick and a black plate- a plate that at one time must have shone flawlessly but was now riddled with scratches due to being dragged across the floor.

Where—a bark made Conrad's head turn sharply towards the door to his room, just in time to note the little creature flying out of it, leg twisted in cords that led to—oh no.

"Ma—My—bu—" Face falling in what must have been some sort of internal pain, Conrad took a step forward and caught himself. "Oh god."

That was his life! His career! His—ohgodohgodohgodAGH.

It was going to be a long stakeout.

Pained and lost expression replaced by one of irritation and annoyance (and repressed anger), Conrad rubbed his forehead and again hesitantly approached the rat, aware of its owner behind him. "Shit. Just…gah."

His tablet. Lord, that thing had taken forever to afford; Lord knows his mother never gave him any money for anything—what, was he going to buy a gun or something? Shoot himself?

Whatever. Just… God. Now it was ruined. Usable, but scratched to the point of… "Ngh."

Not one all too tuned into the latest gizmos, (especially ones of the artful variety) it was beyond Abner of what exactly his partner had tangled himself into. It didn't look very valuable- But apparently it was very important to his "host". Seeing it being abused actually caused him to forget how to speak properly for a moment.

Not that any of that mattered really.

What did matter was the fact that Para seemed to have gotten himself hopelessly tangled in the wires of this… thing. He moved to untangle him when his host, whom was closer, beat him to it. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, restraining himself to bark at that spawn of the devil to get the fuck away from his partner.

The vampire made no closer move to the ferret, but stared at it, a frustrated frown plastered over his face. "I'm not going to… unh." Grumbling angrily, he made move behind the ferret, pulling the cord slack (much to his own unhappiness, what damage was he causing his equipment?) so the thing could get free.

No way was he touching the little beast, no way in hell. But he needed his stuff back.

The hunter paused and looked over the scene again. Mr. Achenleck wasn't touching Paradox. He wasn't even trying to get near him. Though still tense, he did get over his would-be-fit before it ever surfaced. He was still far too close for comfort, but he did have a reason. A good enough reason anyways.

While the vampire was busy trying to untangle the cords from a distance, Abner knelt down next to Paradox, who was still growling bitterly at being caught in such a strange contraption.

Kneeling on the ground, Conrad kept his focus on the carpet and the cord in his fingers. "Let's just… you keep the beast away from my stuff and I'll play along as quietly as possible." The vampire played with the cord lightly, unhappily. Sure, the hunter could force his silence with the gun, but this was easier… right? Leave me alone, I'll leave you alone?

Eyes tracing back to the tablet, Conrad felt his shoulders fall unhappily. This was just too bad of a night. Really. Couldn't he get a little break?

Abner didn't nod at that- only because he didn't like the idea of nodding to a line that included calling Paradox a lowly beast. He couldn't blame him though for saying that though- he didn't expect Para to destroy anything, especially in the two minutes of first arriving here.

Freeing Paradox, he sighed as it bounced back onto his shoulders. "He was only making sure that there wasn't anyone else in the apartment," he explained. And normally, most vampires weren't in a possession of a computer, let alone all the knick-knacks that go with it. That could be due to the fact that most vampires lived before computers became more mainstream, and found little to no use for them. This vampire was changed maybe not even a few months ago.

The animal got free, but Conrad didn't move from his position on the carpet. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired, almost as though he wanted to curl up in bed and not wake up for a year.

But he had already told him that there was no one there. The hunter hadn't believed him, go figure. Conrad rubbed his eyes bitterly, jaw flexing and cracking and spine following suit as he rose finally from his position on the apartment floor. He pulled the near-ruined tablet to his feet and picked it up, running his hands over the scratched surface.

The artist gave a weak sigh (again with the unnecessary sighs) at that. "Yeah. I know." The vampire didn't want an argument then, he was just too done with the night to handle anything more.

"I will apologize for the harm done to your…"

A pause.

"…Toy?"

What else could it be? Really? "My only intention is to draw out your sire to get rid of her- not to pointlessly damage your property." And Paradox was sure not to do anything, as it didn't enjoy being outside of a certain distance away from him. Unless ordered to 'sweep' again, it'd be quite easy to keep an eye on the creature.

The vampire looked up then, eyebrows knitting together unhappily. He resisted a scowl, chewing on the angry thoughts rolling though his mind. Finally, he spoke, tone slightly bitter.

"Hn. Not toy so much as tool. I'm a graphic designer, I use this to work," he explained almost weakly and exhaustedly. The artist didn't want to explain himself to the hunter, but better to get it out sooner than later.

He supposed.

He also supposed he didn't care at this point. His stomach was still bothering him, and despite the fact there was still some time 'til sunrise, Conrad just wanted to sleep. Sliding the tablet under one arm, he turned his back on the hunter, rubbing his eyes. "I'm going to bed, it's been a very long night and I'm tired." He felt himself draw in, smaller, tighter.

"Help yourself to whatever. Guest room's all yours, can't guarantee it'll be at its cleanest. Had a teen delinquent in there, at any case." The last part was meant to come off as a joke, but it was half-hearted.

He began to walk away towards his room, fingers weakly looping in the cord of the tablet to keep it from dragging. Hesitating in the doorway, Conrad turned back to his guest, his new roommate.

"…Good night, I suppose." Not waiting for an answer, he turned back into his room and closed the door, hand resting momentarily on it before pulling away and falling to his side. The artist placed his tablet back on the desk in his room and slipped towards the bed, shrugging off his sweater and tugging off the rest of his clothes, changing into his sweats and t-shirt.

It was weird, he supposed, the stakeout. It was going to be uncomfortable and awkward and downright threatening. And scary, not to mention scary. But as he slipped off his glasses and shut his blinds, he found he was too tired and aching to care. He felt hurt all over. If this made him feel better, if it kept him alive, then he could deal with it.

At least, he thought as he fell into bed and tugged the comforter over his head, he hoped he could deal with it.