She just wanted to warn that guy .

The dude in the plaid shirt and jeans had walked off in the direction of the forest, looking rather sick, and Sophia just wanted to warn him. He looked a little wobbly on his feet and she could hear his laboured breathing - if this guy was about to collapse of alcohol poisoning, the last place he needed to be was near that fucking forest.

So she follows him, repeatedly calling and yelling after him. She's about to give up after three loud "hey, stop"s and a number of "don't go there"s when he stops.

"Hey, hey hey." She runs towards him, stopping in the middle to fish through her bag for a bottle of water and her phone. Not soon after she's found her phone and the water does the guy take off again, this time with more speed. But his gait is still off, and she's worried he's about to get violently ill. Still, she slowly approaches the edge of the forest and holds off on the 911.

And it's a bloody good thing she did the latter, because things get… strange, for lack of a more fitting term.

Not soon after he disappears in the inky blackness does she hear loud growling. Sophia quickly begins to retreat, but once she sees the beast, her feet freeze in fear.

The thing is over six feet tall on all fours, yellow eyes glinting malevolently. A corner of her brain tells her that panicking will only further aggravate the creature, so she lets her fear take the reins and stays still at that spot, trying very hard to keep her breathing level. The thing takes a step in her direction, and it does a grotesque imitation of a biped by trying to stand on its back two feet.

And that's how she knows she's fucked and her chances of survival are next to none.

It's certainly not a normal wolf, and she doubts bear spray would even work on this thing, but she will not die without trying, dammit, so she raises her hands, one over her eyes as she uses the other to spray the thing in its face.

Turns out that was a terrible idea, because the monster lets out a loud howl and lunges in her direction, and she gets thrown backwards into the leafy forest floor, skidding to a stop by a tree. Her head hurts, her ears are ringing, and her vision is a little blurry for a moment, but she can feel that it's not that wolf who threw her backwards.

It's a person.

Once her vision clears up, she sees the dark outline of that same someone in a coat ramming themselves shoulder-first into the creature. The thing stumbles back but recovers, and with a loud howl takes a swipe at the person, who darts out of its way with what is surely inhuman speed.

How hard did I hit my head?

The beast in back on all fours, ready to pounce at the person, who turns towards her - WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, NO - sweeps her up and takes off in a run into the forest. At this point, Sophia is in enough confusion and pain to not do anything else except rest her head on the torso of whoever is holding her. The wind whips her face, and her teeth are chattering - the person holding her is way too cold for comfort and for them to be human, god fucking damnit, that she looks up and tries to focus on their face.

It's Demetri.

Okay, exactly how hard did I hit my head?

A minute later, she's been put down on the ground, taken firmly by the arm and being marched to a car. He unceremoniously shoves her into the passenger seat, then takes his seat and floors the accelerator, the car tearing out of its parking spot and into the night.

"You have a concussion," is the first thing she hears him say. His voice has barely any of its control - he sounds mad, to say at the least. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"That doesn't matter right now," she snaps back, "what the fuck just happened there?" He looks at her, eyes blazing. It's a little hard to make out in the lack of light, but his eyes seem to have a different colour. "Are you wearing contacts right now?" She blurts out, cursing her impulsiveness the moment she says it.

"That's what is bothering you?" His voice is louder now, irritated.

"Where the fuck are we going?" "What did you see?" "Where are we going -" "That does not m -" " ANSWER ME! " Her voice echoes off the walls of the car, their squabbling coming to a halt.

"I'm taking you to my apartment," his tone is a lot more even now. "Once you get proper medical attention, I will explain tonight's events."

"Where do you live?"

"We'll be there in two minutes." She casts a look at the speedometer to check if they won't be flagged down by cops - thankfully they're within the limits right now. "How's your head?"

"Well, it's never hurt this bad, and I'm seeing double now." He doesn't answer, simply nods, the car pulling into a driveway. They stop in front of a small block of apartments, and most of the lights are off. He cuts the ignition and quickly gets out of the car, Sophia trying to hoist her bag and get to her feet, but her head hurts so much and it feels like the ground is not at all flat under her feet.

After one more unsuccessful try, Demetri scoops her up once again in his arms and walks to the main door, pushing it open with his shoulder while walks towards the last door on her right. That door is unlocked too, and he slowly walks towards what looks like the bedroom.

Her head hurts and she feels a little dizzy as well, and he puts her down on the bed, her body sinking into the comfy mattress. And not a moment later, he's back with water and a first aid kit. He rolls it out and pulls out a box of ibuprofen from one of the pockets, fingers lingering above the gauze before he decides against it. She notices he's not wearing that coat she'd pressed her head into earlier, clad just in a white shirt and black chinos now.

"Here you go," he passes a pill and a half-filled glass of water, and she puts the medicine on her tongue, quickly washing it down right after. "I need you to be awake for the next fifteen minutes; can you do that?" She nods, and he inches forward, pushing his shirt sleeves up as his fingers gently press on points on her skull. She hisses quite loudly when he touches a rather sore point, prompting a muttered apology. "Does everything feel a little too loud to you?" His voice is gentle and soothing, actually, and it makes her feel a little better.

She tries to shake her head, but it hurts, and he places a cold hand to the back to stop any movement. "No."

"Do you feel like you want to vomit?"

"Surprisingly, no."

"Do you want to go to sleep?"

"Mmhmm."

"Okay. It's not too bad, so you should be fine in about a day or two. But you cannot sleep right away - since you could not walk on your own but are able to hold a conversation, I'll need you to stay up for an hour or so; just to make sure the situation doesn't worsen." A pause. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." There are no lights on the room, but the light from the living room illuminates a wry smile on his face.

"That would mean taxing your brain, and we cannot have that happen - at least not yet. But I'll still answer a question or two right now."

"Why are your hands and body so cold?"

"I will answer that in time - it's complicated, and odds are, you will not believe me." She still has one more, and it takes her an eternity to build up the courage to voice it.

"Are you going to kill me?" At that, he chuckles, looking down before he looks back at her, eyes full of sincerity.

"No." Minutes pass with her staring at the wall past him. She looks up to see him checking his watch, and a few more minutes later he rises from his chair, putting his ever-icy hand behind her head as he helps her slowly lie down.

"I have one more question," she says once she's comfortably nestled in the sheets, peeking at him through drooping eyes. "Are you wearing contacts?"

"No. Ora di sonno, donna curiosa." She watches him leave the room, and the words "what does that mean" barely make it past her lips before she conks out.

That sleep is rudely interrupted by an icepack a while later, and then her brain fully reboots and realises that its her peculiar friend shaking her by the shoulder.

"wha?"

"I just need to check whether you're waking properly," she hears him say before falling back into dreamland. This happens a few times before she gets to peacefully sleep for a while. When she does wake up on her own, its still pretty dark outside. She walks out of the bedroom and into the poorly-lit living room, finding Demetri reading a magazine. "Good to see you were able to make the trip," he remarks, pointing at a couch. "Still, I don't want you over-exerting yourself. These do take over a week or more to completely heal - the symptoms might still linger for a month or plus but the worst should leave in a week."

"I know how concussions work, Demetri." She presses a point on her temple, gently massaging it before she speaks again. "What I don't know is exactly what drugs you are on, because just about no one can run that fast or ram into whatever the fuck that hybrid wolf was and survive."

"I should be asking you that same question, because no one can do any of the things you claim to have seen me do." That smooth motherfucker - turning her own words against her.

"Do you want a drug test done? Because I can order two from Walgreens and have it here in an hour, and then we'll know which one of us is truly off their rocker on PCP."

"You think people get super speed from PCP?" He's chuckling, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Well, no," she splutters, "but they certainly get better at fighting people or things." But the other things she's noticed refused to leave her alone, and she has to find out exactly what he is or at least what he's on. "But your skin! I know I don't have a fever, and your skin was practically ice cold every time you touched me, and might I remind you, this place has the heat set at 78, and you aren't made of metal." A thought. "Are you? Made of metal, I mean? Like a Vision-like droid who's super smart and pretty and super strong - are you made of titanium?"

Now, he's laughing.

"What? I'm serious!" When her annoyance subsides, she notices her guess about his eyes was right - they surely are a different colour, because they're a dark blood red. "Wait, why are your eyes this red? Even albinos don't have eyes that red. And your skin is like super pale all the time, even if it's a little olive, and I've seen enough English people to know you all are not that colour-starved."

"Maybe if you stop talking can I explain," he says, getting up from his seat. "Remember how I told you that you would not believe my explanation for my icy skin?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Good - that means your memory is still functioning and the concussion isn't so bad. Also, you will not believe it at first."

She takes a deep breath, unlocking her phone. "Okay - if you're so convinced I won't, then I want to go get two drug tests from Walgreens." He doesn't protest, picking up his car keys.

"Let's go, then." The drive is short, and he lets her pick out the exact make and brand before he passes his card to the cashier and they leave, back at his place within 30 minutes.

Sophia opens one of the boxes, the saliva testing strip in one hand and the small testing kit in the other. She puts the strip in her mouth, waits the recommended amount of time, then puts in the kit for evaluation. It comes out negative for all drugs listed. "Okay, good. Now, you."

"Fine, but fair warning - this test will not work on me."

"And why will it not?"

"Because I possess no saliva, no sweat and no blood in my body. The venom on my tongue will dissolve it within seconds." Since she knows there are no drugs in her system, the only answer that remains is that he's lying; which she will find out about right now.

"Stick it in your mouth, then."

"Okay." His fingertips brush hers as he takes the strip from her, the cold sending shivers through her hand, and then sits back down. She stands over him, eyes trained on his mouth as he puts it on his tongue.

Within twenty seconds, she watches the porous paper blacken and burn before he coughs it out on the ground.

"Is this proof enough?"

Her only thought right now is, "what the fuck?"