When the monster slipped from the room, it was with a scowl on her face. She had to have heard or seen something while shut in that had enraged her. The voices had continued the entire time, and when she finally emerged she looked to be in an awful mood all over again. She ignored him entirely at first, shuffling through the room before abruptly stopping and kicking a heavy object in her way. Immediately she hissed in pain and gave the obstacle a glare like it personally had done this, probably realizing that this hadn't been a good idea in the first place, but he could understand that. It was an expression of frustration, and he knew those well. He rumbled in a sort of assent where he laid, although he was also quick to prepare himself to be ready to move if needed if she suddenly turned the outburst on him.

It was only then that she really seemed to remember he was there, and she turned as though surprised. For just a second he thought that she was going to come at him too, but she just wound up letting out a low mumbling sound and sagging onto the thing she had kicked. As much as his instinct insisted otherwise, it was starting to seem that she really had decided not to further harm him after all. Which should have been impossible. The ones like her, they only wanted to hurt the ones like him, even if they didn't seem to quite become crazed with it in the same way his own kind did. But then she'd also stopped him from dying, so…?

No. No no no he didn't want to think about this right now. His head actually throbbed from focusing on this for too long. He did his best to quiet the thoughts, shaking his head as if he could physically get rid of them. It didn't do much to help.

He'd blocked out his surroundings for that moment, practically a blackout, and by the time he came back to awareness, the monster was staring in his direction. A snatch of a growl escaped him and he slunk back into a sheltered space by the corner, shaking himself out with the hair on his neck standing on end. He hated that staring. Maybe this would be better if she didn't still have one of her eyes.

As much as he wanted to avoid it, questions that he had no way of expressing kept boiling up. What was he going to do now that he had her here? What was it that had stopped him from killing her, and how could he get rid of it? And behind them all was simply a great, roaring why? From experience, being caught up in things like this was never good. They only ever led to anger, frustration, even more confusion than he was normally left wrapped in. Pain.

This was the monster's fault, he rationalized. He wouldn't be having any of these thoughts if it wasn't for her.

Maybe… maybe the only way to fix this was to kill her, after all. Something deep inside him almost crooned that yes. Yes, that made sense, when almost nothing else did. Out of view, he heard the monster shift.

Okay, so, there was still one giant, unresolved question. What the hell was she going to do about this Hunter situation? She'd totally botched even trying to explain this, but it seemed like a pretty fucking big deal that this infected had apparently saved her goddamn life. She was still trying to sort out this information and what it meant, but at the same time, she wasn't sure she really wanted to pick it apart, either. Something about it left the feeling of a heavy stone in her gut.

Had it honestly been her treating him that had prompted it? Was he actually capable of recognizing that? There was definitely no question that he'd been trying to kill her before, and even now he seemed fairly aggressive. She didn't know whether it made it better or worse that she was entirely sure that he wasn't making the move to come at her even though he really wanted to. This had to be some freak case. Something that would never happen again in a million years, right?

She groaned and stared towards the window for a while, noting that the grey sky outside had finally broken into a snow squall. A few errant flakes drifted in through the opening, and a chill wind came with it. It was a little freaky that the Hunter ran so feverish she could see his breath already. The weather made an atmospheric drop to her sitting there moping in thought, anyways.

Eventually, she shuffled herself off of her cozy chair. "You're killing me, kid," she mumbled, no pun intended.

At the moment, he seemed to be doing his very best not to look at her. She sat on the floor, idly eyeing what she could vaguely make out as a singular emblazoned sparrow on the back of his dirty sweatshirt. His back muscles twitched under her gaze like he could feel her eye on him. Maybe he could, the Hunters especially did seem to have one hell of a Spidey-sense.

"And what am I supposed to be calling you, anyways?" she mused, drumming the fingers on her injured hand on her knee to test them. Still sore, predictably, but usable. Just "the Hunter" or some variation was starting to sound weird. She had to differentiate him somehow, right? Even if it was weird acknowledging that he actually had a name. At least, the human that he'd been did. "Lambchop? Leg-o-Lamb? Mary had a little Lamb?"

He tensed and a growl rolled through him in response to her voice. She could just imagine an "ooh Skyler, you're so funny. Please, go on." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine. How about just Adrian?"

Unexpectedly, the leaper jerked violently. He whipped around to face her, teeth bared and body language as stunned as if she'd physically struck him, which in itself gave her a damn heart attack. Holy shit. That was… that was honest-to-god responding to his name. This infected knew his goddamn name.

Her mouth went dry and for a second she couldn't say anything else. She had to swallow a lump before she continued, "Y-yeah. You know that?"

He edged closer, out from under his table.

"Adrian? That's your name, isn't it-"

A snarl ripped through the Hunter and, faster than she had at all expected, he lunged for her.

Confusion. Fury. Bursting across his brain. Making him see white with it as he crashed into the monster. He- he recognized that sound. That was… it was him.

Name. Me.

The realization was as jarring as missing a jump and flooded him near-senseless.

But how?! How was she making noises that he understood, how did she know something so deep and private about himself that he hadn't known it until he'd heard it? Chaos railed and paranoid, wild thoughts raced.

The blood would fix this. It always did; it had to. He'd lose himself in the glorious give of her flesh, any other thought would be drowned out in that perfect roar of adrenaline and blinding pleasure. Good. That was good. He had to end this. His claws curled to dig into her. His heart beat at a manic pace. His eyes stung.

Something sliced through the frenzy. Something grasping- touching-... Panic, raw and consuming, struck. She was holding onto his wrist. Terror that he couldn't comprehend overrode him, forced him off and away even as he needed to tear into her.

His head was screaming. Exploding with throbbing pain, foreign thoughts and images trying to force themselves in. Like the hallucinations, but more violent. It was like he could feel something cracking. No. No no no nonono he couldn't do this, he couldn't do any of this!

Escape became the strongest drive and he scrambled for the tiny entrance he'd dropped in through, slipping on something cold and wet, but a mixture of the panic and lingering weakness made him miss his jump up to it. He scrambled down the wall, chest heaving, and instead blindly raged against one of the heavier objects, sending it toppling with a crash. More stinging in his eyes. He tore at anything nearby, shrieked, finally collapsed into a panting, exhausted heap below the opening. Wrapped his arms around himself, trying with every ounce of him to hold himself together. Never before had he felt more aware of how thinner-than-string whatever was keeping him going was, or just how frayed.

Even without looking, he sensed the monster standing nearby. He screamed again. Hate. He hated her. Everything was her fault, she'd done all of this. He was so deeply wrapped up in this world of misery that he hardly noticed her slowly turning and walking out. The entrance closing behind her had an air of finality.

Alone.

After the past few days, it shouldn't have been possible for any more tears to be left in him, and yet it came out of his control. Frantically he held onto his chain like it was the only thing tethering him to what remained of his sanity in something vast and dark. He could feel the cold from outside dusting over and around him.

And as he laid there, a few things did start to fall into place. Crushing realizations, things that he'd known all along but had never wanted to think about because they threatened to tear him apart.

How the truth was that everything he did, all of the struggle and the ache and fighting tooth and claw and sweat and blood against the Clean Ones and the Others and starvation and sickness every. Single. Day was for nothing more than a desperate, primal urge to push his death back a little further each time. The only things to numb it were the hunt and the killing. It was never going to stop but no matter what he did, he was still going to- going to die forgotten out here anyways. Like none of it had ever mattered.

And he hated… hated this monster, this woman prey who had come here and forced him to imagine anything else. With her… with her smelling like Before, and his name, and- and helping him. For making him stop for long enough to realize how utterly exhausted he was. He was so, so tired. His body was and his mind was. He didn't know how he was possibly going to get up and do any of this again. He had no sense of time to know how long this had gone on already. To him, it might as well have been forever.

In that moment, curled up on the floor of a place that should have been safe for him, he clutched the chain to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut against the frigid wind.

And he hoped against hope to die where he laid.

He willed it so hard that he didn't look up when he thought he heard the entrance opening. It was only the sound of a voice that drew some of his attention. Even still he hardly twitched, letting out a low rumble of his own. Monster. What was she still doing here?

Feet shuffled across the floor. The monster's voice came again.

"Adrian."

"Adrian," Skyler called out again. If anything he seemed to shrink further away at the sound.

Damn it though, she might have been pretty awful and grating in general, but she'd like to think of herself as not a complete monster. Not that she really knew what the hell she was supposed to do. A firm "there there" seemed pretty weak for whatever the hell this kid was going through. Unfortunately, all she could really tell from the outside though was that it seemed, uh… pretty fucking awful.

Still though, she hesitated in place. Somehow it seemed like it would mean something if she made another move here. Maybe something serious that she couldn't take back. She twisted the throw that she'd collected from the other room in her hands and shivered faintly.

This… this wasn't her. It didn't come naturally to her and she could admit that. But fuck, she felt like she at least should do something. At least try, even if it was just some gesture. She meant, sure, he'd more or less tried to kill her again, but this had to be some shit for him to go through.

Her hands clenched. Fuck everything. Even someone like her could recognize genuine suffering, and maybe… shit, maybe it didn't matter what it was coming from. It gave her the momentum she needed.

She didn't let whatever sentimentality had come over her totally cloud her judgment, though, and she was still cautious and slow as she crouched. Instinctively, just knowing what he was, the back of her brain still screamed at her not to get so close, but she swallowed it back for now.

The kid shuddered when the blanket draped over his shoulders. Some unidentifiable, low sound left him, and he shifted to look up towards her at such an angle that she could actually catch a glimpse at his glazed eyes. He hardly looked angry, which was almost alarming, considering the only time she'd seen that had been when she'd looked at him while he was unconscious. More than anything, he looked very tired and confused.

"Shit. You're, ah," she mumbled, horribly awkward but trying to keep what her sister might do in this situation in mind, "You're okay. Fuck. No, you're not. You're totally not. That was dumb." It probably didn't make much of a difference what she actually did say; nothing really seemed to catch aside from when she used his name, anyways. She let out a single, tense laugh. "God I'm bad at this. I feel bad for you when the only one there is me. But… well… I'm what there is. I'm what you've got. And I'm… sorry I can't do more. You- whoever you were- deserved better than this. 'S not like you asked for it."

Cold fucking comfort. It was probably best that he didn't understand her. She grumbled, shuffling back to her feet. "I… I'm gonna go now."

Something caught the leg of Skyler's pants as she stood. Her heart thudded unevenly without even looking down and she froze. Briefly her knees went weak, and the blood drained from her cheeks.

"No."

The grip didn't release. She turned slowly, and the kid… Adrian was sitting up with the throw hanging off of his shoulders.

"No. No. You stop that right the fuck now. There is nothing I can goddamn do."

Her attempt to pull her leg away was met by him instead standing up, nearly at his full height aside from a slight stoop, hardly a foot from being face to face with her. The memory of him streaking his own goddamn blood over her face flashed back at her and she nearly jerked back, but opted for standing her ground, even as he panted and let out a low snarl. He rocked on the balls of his heels. Flexed his clawed fingers. Even started to make a false start at her, but held back at the last second. Skyler watched all of this, unsure of whether she was just tempting fate, but she seemed rooted to the spot.

"Make up your mind, Adrian. Are we gonna do this again, or no?"

Her words meant little, she knew. His lithe body tensed and rolled. She was going to fight back if there was an attack, of course, but the seconds ticked on. He seemed oblivious to the few snowflakes drifting over him. Finally though a shudder went through him along with a low, rumbling sound and he grounded himself with more conviction. Stubborn. He really was. Just like her.

Slowly, a stunned smirk grew over her face. This was just un-fucking-believable. With that, a low chuckle left her, and she saw him twitch again, possibly in alarm. Briefly she reached out her bandaged hand, patting over Adrian's fevered shoulder.

"You don't know the kind of mistake you're making, kid," she warned. Not that it would do any kind of good. This was past the point of turning back. "But, hell with it. If that's how you want it, I'm willing to play this."

She had no idea what she was getting herself into by not walking away either, but then again she never did with most situations, anyways. Why should this be any different? It was as simple as two outcomes: Either she'd find out what happened, or she'd die. And she was more than certain it'd be interesting to see which one.