"Now why do you suppose he keeps twitchin' like that?" Rhage asked, setting his hands on his hips. Phury turned his bright eyes to the blond vampire next to him and shrugged, a very distilled smirk on his face. He pushed a hand through his long, di-colored hair and looked down at the bed, where Butch remained utterly passed out. "Well, my best guess... Dogs do that, when they're dreaming, and Butch isn't much smarter than your average pound pup, so I'm going to go with that."
"Oh shit, watch this." Rhage said with a snicker, leaning down over Butch, who was laying on his stomach, both arms underneath the pillow. Rhage stuck a finger in his own mouth, and then put it in Butch's ear. "You are such a child." Phury muttered at Rhage, who ignored him. Butch sat up with a snarl, aimed to punch Rhage in the face, but seeing who it was, lowered his hand and dropped back onto the bed, rubbing his now gross feeling ear. "What the hell do you assholes want." he muttered, stuffing his head under the pillow. God, he was so not ready to be up yet. He still couldn't shake the feeling he'd gotten from last night. That searing kiss still burned a hole in his mind, it had consumed his dreams that day, and left him still kind of dizzy now that he was awake. He couldn't shake that feeling, that memory of Vishous looking at him like that, like he was literally all that existed in this world. His skin prickled with goose flesh and he rubbed it away, peeking out from under the pillow at Rhage, who was now looking at him kind of strangely. "The hell's your problem?" Rhage wanted to know. Something was off about him today. "Nothin'. Now let me ask again. What. Do. You. Assholes. Want." Phury narrowed his eyes slightly, and Rhage just snorted. "Well, we were coming down here to see if you wanted to drag your lazy ass out of bed and come to ZeroSum with us. We've had some reports of some of those baby powder lovin' freaks of nature around those parts, as usual, and while we were down there, thought we'd at least get a drink. You in?" Butch sat up again, and threaded a hand through his brown hair. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there in a sec" Rhage and Phury dismissed themselves to the living room of the Pit while Butch showered, and slipped into a fresh pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and his Red Sox jacket before heading down the hallway. He turned his baseball cap around backwards and glanced down the hall at Vishous' bedroom door. For a moment, he felt a pang of longing, but kept walking, following the other two out the door.
He was dreaming and he knew it, he also knew that he did not want to be dreaming, but couldn't wake himself. He rolled onto his back, legs stretching out underneath black satin sheets, long fingers gripping the comforter as he struggled to breath. It felt as if someone had parked a truck on his chest, the pain, the lack of oxygen. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. His body trembling under the force of the dream. He hadn't felt anything like this aside from the night he was shot. The night he met Jane. His eyes snapped open, body bowing off the bed as he struggled to pull air deep into his lungs. Images flashed through his head, causing his eyes to rolled back, body going still. Then it happened, he felt something inside of him break, something rip away. A scream tore from his throat, filling the silence of his bedroom.
Vishous shot upright, eyes bouncing around the room, struggling to focus on one thing. "Fuck," He cursed under his breath as his breathing slowly composed itself. Now he could add one fucked up dream to the list of fucked up shit he was already dealing. As that crossed his mind, he fell back with a groan, how was he going to face Butch after last night?
A weird feeling came over him, and Butch stopped, on his way into ZeroSum. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder, at nothing in particular. His eyes lowered, and he only responded the second time Rhage called his name. "The hell is your problem, cop?"
Cop.
Butch's eyes darkened. The way he said that word made him feel a little sick, and the nickname rung in his head like a death-toll bell. That word reflected a memory from the night before, Vishous using that word while he kissed him like the world was ending. Those diamond eyes, that eerie, encompassing way he looked at him. His stomach dropped, and for a split second, he knew something was wrong. Butch was consumed with this all consuming urge to run back to the Pit and go see what was wrong with Vishous. He knew it was Vishous that was suffering, too. He had always had gut instincts regarding the man. Rhage headed back to the stationary Butch, while Phury stood by the door, watching with a bit of antsy curiosity. What the hell was wrong with the guy tonight? He was sure acting funny, and not the usual Butch kind of funny. It was a little bit more...neurotic. Distracted, maybe, that was the word he was looking for. Phury's yellow optics focused on the other two for a short moment and headed into the club. He'd let Butch work this out on his own. Rhage, however, was not being quite so courteous. "Where's your head at tonight, man?"
"...Nowhere. Don't worry about it." he grumbled, shoving Rhage's hand off of his shoulder and following Phury into ZeroSum.
Vishous had started pacing much as he had last night, mind going way to fast. This shit was just ridiculous, Jane was gone, Marisa had left Butch and now here he was, practically throwing himself at the other male. He had forced himself to crawl out of bed, but that was about it. He had made it into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of Goose and went right back into his bedroom, slamming the door with a thud. Then the pacing had begun. Groaning, Vishous ran a hand through his hair, brushing the black locks back from his eyes, something was nagging at him. Something telling him to call Butch, get him home so they could fix this, but he couldn't do it. It wasn't in his nature, though, within the last 24 hours he had done a lot that wasn't in his nature. Shaking his head, he set his glass down on the nightstand, beside the alarm clock. It was his night off, and he needed to find something to do because if he had to stay in the Pit with his thoughts, he was going to go absolutely postal.
Within minutes, Vishous was ready to leave. Dressed in his leathers, shit kickers, a black tee-shirt, jacket and daggers. Taking a deep breath, he dematerialized downtown, having decided that the fresh, though chilly, night air would do him some good, he was just going to walk around. If he was lucky, a fight would come his way. Or, maybe Butch would call. As that last thought crossed his mind, he pulled out his cell, nothing. That's when it happened, he felt the pain of the bullet as it tore through his shoulder. With a hiss, he spun, looking up and down the alley way he had managed to end up in. He couldn't see anyone, but he sure as shit could smell it. Stinky fuckin' bastards.
Something was definitely wrong. He didn't know precisely what it was, but he was 100% sure that something had happened. His pupils constricted to slits, his eyes hidden carefully beneath the brim of the Red Sox hat that never seemed to leave his head. That's it, he thought. Fuck propriety, he was going to have to budge first. Feeling a bit like a teenage boy asking his first crush to prom, Butch pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and stared somewhat hopelessly at the screen for a moment. Phury, by far the most intuitive of the three, peered over his drink, one of his smokes in his hand. "Something wrong?" he asked, inhaling the smoke and letting it out on a breathy sigh. Butch didn't reply right away, his thumb brushing the send button on the screen. "Not a fuckin' thing." the Bostonian replied under his breath, shooting the rest of his scotch and just forcing himself to send the text message.
Call me crazy, but I gotta feelin' you're not doing so hot tonight. What's good?
Maybe that didn't look as pathetic as he felt. Rhage set his drink down with a clink and immediately had his sights on Butch. If it was one thing Rhage knew how to do, it was get what he wanted, in any way that he had to. He wasn't Hollywood just for his good looks. "You better look alive, bASStard. When we go out there if you keep staring into space that way, a Lesser's gonna run you right through. Then we gotta call V to come save your sorry ass, and get Jane in here... Ehlena too, I'm sure. Do you want that mess? I sure as fuck don't wanna go for rounds two and three of THAT bullshit." Now it was Butch's turn to get mad. He turned sharp hazel eyes on the other male with a look that could have frozen boiling water. "Mind your goddamn business, Hollywood. And I don't need him to fuckin' save me, true? I can handle the pasty bastards without any of you guys' help." With that, he got up from the table, throwing a five spot on the counter for his drink before shouldering his equipment and going out the door to do just that, patrol on his own. Phury gave Rhage a disapproving look. He had gone and driven Butch to make yet another in what was sure to be a series of terrible decisions. Luckily, he had the med team on speed dial for just such an occasion.
He got outside, and he immediately smelled what he had suspected was here. With a grunt, he headed forward, praying his phone would buzz. He needed to at least know the stupid bastard was okay. In the mean time, it was game on. For one, he would show Rhage just who the fuck needed saving.
His dagger went flying, embedding itself in the nearest lesser. With a satisfied smirk, Vishous pulled himself away from the brick wall and turned to face the other approaching figure. A gun went off, the bullet whizzing past his head and hitting the wall, causing bits of brick to fall. Vishous let out a slight growl of frustration and looked around, there was one pale freak in front of him and one he couldn't see. He'd bet his ass there were more, the ungodly stench was way too strong for there to have only been three. Cursing a fierce and colorful streak, Vishous advanced, eyes intent on the bastard before him, ears focused on the one hiding. Palming a dagger, Vishous smirked as the lesser took a swing at him, he caught the arm and bent it back at an awkward angle, eyes bright as the creature let out a squeak. Before it had the chance to move its other arm in what would have resulted in another failed attempt to hit him, he plunged the dagger into its chest, watching as it dissipated. Another shot rang in the air, this time, the bullet planted itself in his shoulder, right below the other. With a pained grunt, he slammed his back up against the wall, the pain this time, too much to ignore. Shit. If he didn't get out of there soon, he was royally fucked. Figuratively and literally, because if he got his ass injured good enough, Wrath would be all over his ass and that was the last thing he needed to add to his ever growing shit sandwhich.
The smell of blood stopped him cold, mid-step. Butch's fangs elongated again, and his mouth ached, his whole body combusting at the scent he knew. It wasn't just blood for god's sake. Oh no. He stumbled, catching himself on one knee before he was back on his feet again. Nothing but adrenaline kept him moving at this point. He understood what his objective was. He knew what to do, and his body knew where he was going, even before his mind did. It seemed to steer itself, and he hit the ground running, powerful legs pumping as he hurtled himself down the street. The smell of V's blood mingled with the nauseating scent of baby powder, and Butch was now on the alert. A shot rang out, and he hit the ground, in the push-up position, his dagger in his hand, blade flat to the palm. He felt it cut into his skin as he ducked out of the way of the bullet that whizzed over his head. The Lesser he saw first was easy to obliterate, with a dagger through the sternum, and the next couple fell easily enough, but it wasn't until he saw Vishous that his hatred for the pasty fucks grew to the point that he saw red. He was injured alright, his shoulder busted up good with those fucking bullets, and he was in obvious pain. That is, obvious for someone that really and truly knew V, which was...well, Butch, pretty much. He glanced at Vishous, but neglected to speak to him, figuring his body would do the talking. He extended the dagger from its stationary place in his hand, and spun on his heel, his boot cracking a Lesser right on the nose, sending him reeling. The thing hissed and sprung back at him, aimed to kill, but for his usual, slightly more clumsy style of combat, Butch was in rare form tonight. In a flawless motion sent by rippling muscle and well honed reflexes, Butch cleared a path to Vishous. They kept coming, but for someone that had only barely slept the night before, and whose blood was thick with scotch, Butch was taking no shit tonight. One by one they dissipated with a torrential downpour of screams and hisses. Butch was deaf to the noise. He wanted destruction. He wanted these baby-powder smelling cum-stains to disappear, to die a hellish death for what they had done to Vishous. Yeah, Butch knew V had suffered worse, but the thought of anyone, anything, laying a hand (or otherwise) to his best friend put him in a mood well beyond murderous. When the onslaught ceased, Butch stood alone, having fought from the opening of the alley that Vishous had barricaded himself in. His chest was heaving, and he was streaked with blood from many miscellaneous injuries sustained by Lesser knives and bullets. Blood dripped down his face, over his right eye, and hit the payment with a splash. It was the only sound there. The sound of heavy footfalls got his attention, and when Butch turned his head, he saw Rhage and Phury on their way. "We missed the party, didn't we?" Rhage asked, sounding honestly annoyed with that. "I was hoping I could knock some of this damn dragon's edge off." Butch ignored him, walking past the blond as if he weren't even there. Phury looked around, finding the area vacant. Had the cop done this all by himself...? Butch stopped in front of Vishous, his gaze intense. "Usually...it's my ass that is doing things like this." He was quiet a moment, and he knelt by the Brother, inspecting the wounds. "And I say that...because this? This wasn't very smart. This actually borderlines stupid." He growled as he looked at the damage. "And that's my fucking job."
Vishous watched, completely transfixed as Butch tore through the lessers. The level of respect that he had for the other male had just grown, increasingly. He hadn't even been aware that he could respect him more than he already did. Though, as he stayed there, leaned against the wall, trying to breath past the pain, he couldn't help the thought that dancing around his head, Did he do this for me? His heart beat painfully against his chest as he sank to the dirty pavement. When Butch knelt down beside him, he closed his eyes, listening as he was scolded. He had been looking for a fight, itching for it and he had gotten one, but it wasn't going to be the fight he had wanted. Once they got back to the Pit, Butch was gonna rip him a new one.
With a grunt, Vishous pulled himself upright, eyeing the cop, "Just get me home, true?" His voice was rough, almost gravely. He was full of emotions that he couldn't even begin to explain. There was also something else lurking just below the surface, something like...fear. As his balance faltered, he leaned against Butch, only just having noticed that Rhage and Phury were standing in the alley, assessing the damage that his cop had done. The air seemed to squeeze from his lungs as it dawned on him that once Butch was done wringing his neck over this, he was going to say something about last night. Fuck.
Butch rose from the crouch alongside him, and when Vishous stumbled, he caught him against his shoulder with a grunt. V was bigger than he was, and though he supported the males weight just fine, he felt the strain, mostly due to his own sudden exhaustion. "Yeah, you'll get home, alright." he said quietly. "And when they're done patchin' your ass up...I got a bone to pick with you." The pickup was quick once Rhage got on the phone, though everyone that heard about it back at the compound was deeply surprised that it was Vishous who had suffered injury. V was usually so calculated, always one step ahead of everyone, especially the lessers. Butch stayed beside his friend until the familiar black Escalade pulled up with a screech of tires. The ventures of the medical staff took longer than they suspected it would, due to the fact that the Lesser bullets had done more damage than it seemed at first glance. Butch sat closely by, uncharacteristically silent as they worked on his roommate. He stared straight ahead, right at the wall, his whole body tense and stiff, his pulse practically visible in his throat. Some of the Brothers were deeply unnerved by Butch's sudden icy temperament, how silent and cold he was, but no one said a word. He was on edge, and he even went so far as to growl at Ehlena when she accidentally botched a stitch, causing a little more blood to pour forth.
Disturbed by this, the medical staff was quick, and when they had done what they could to patch up Vishous' wounds, they sent him home. Butch was quiet still, all the way back to the Pit, and still hadn't said anything when he helped Vishous inside. Once the door was closed, he looked out the window a moment, and then lowered his head in his shoulders, closing his eyes and leaning against the door, supported by his arm. When he finally turned around, his brown eyes were dull. He looked tired rather than angry, frustrated and drained. "Are you fuckin' insane, V?" he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You're smarter than that. Ya know better than to go lookin' for shit." He dropped to sit on the couch, looking at Vishous intently for a long moment, and there was a spark in his gaze. "What the fuck am I supposed to do if something happens to you? You can't play with your life, Vishous." He sounded dead serious now, his tone flat and cool, though he felt like breaking into a million pieces. His heart was aching, like he'd been punched in the chest. The very thought of what might have happened had he not gotten there in time... He would rather die.
Vishous eased onto the leather couch with a groan, trying not to jar his shoulder too much. Tonight had not been a good night for him, physically and mentally. He was exhausted, just flat out exhausted. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the back of the couch, breathing slowly as he tried to calm his already shot nerves. "I'm sorry," He finally managed. There, he had apologized, something he usually did not do. That alone was probably enough to floor Butch, but just when he thought he would stop with the sorry, more came out, "I've been completely out of it lately. With Jane, Marisa and now...this shit with you," He took a deep breath, lifting his good arm to scrub a hand over his face, "Fuckin' shit man, it's been rough," His eyes opened slowly, risking a peek at the cop who looked as drained and warn out as he felt, "Tonight...I don't know what happened, I really fuckin' don't," With a soft hiss of frustration, he pulled himself up and started toward the bathroom. He wanted a shower, though, regardless of the fact that he had gotten up and headed that way, there was a chance that Butch wouldn't let him go until he was done ripping him a new one.
Butch got up the minute Vishous did, and he was in the doorway, barring him from getting to the bathroom. "You're not listening to me." he growled, his voice low and rough. "You don't have to tell me that it's been rough. I know as well as you do that the shit has really hit the fan, true?" The smaller male looked up at him with brown-green eyes so full of desperation that he couldn't ever let himself express with words or actions. "That wasn't you being out of it, Vishous. That was you being completely careless." He knew his words were kind of biting, but he had to get this out there. Things had been tense and strange since the night before when their tensions came to fruition. It ended now. He couldn't take this. The apology did get his attention, it really did hit home, but some things were more important than Vishous' pride. Butch was prioritizing. "You can't DO that shit to me, ya hear?" His voice was thick with frustration, and something unusual for Butch. Panic. Butch was usually one that didn't let too much bother him, shrugging it off and rolling with the punches, but this...this was too much. V had put himself in danger, and it was way past the capacity of the younger vampire's nervous system. He wanted to scream and punch walls, punch Vishous if he got close enough. But he couldn't. He was too relieved that the male was alive. Sure, shoulder injuries weren't fun, and it could have been very easily life threatening had Butch not followed his gut. He'd be worried anytime his best friend got injured, but for whatever reason, due to the unearthing of certain feelings, this felt so much worse. "What if something had happened to you? I mean real shit! And just what would have happened if I hadn't felt the need to come chasing after you!?" His face felt warm, and he felt like he'd be sick, but he held his ground, looking up at Vishous with fervor and despondence. Butch stepped forward suddenly, pushing Vishous back, against the wall, where he braced himself on either side of V's shoulders. "You can't...you can't leave me."
"I am listening to you," Vishous snapped, frustration increasing, "I have listened to every single word that's left your mouth," His tone was harsh, his anger growing with his frustration. He knew what he had done was stupid, but at that moment, it hadn't mattered. Nothing had. A growl slipped from parted lips as he watched Butch get closer. His shoulder was killing him, the pain increasing as his blood pressure rose, his heart slamming against his rib cage. When Butch backed him into the wall and told him he couldn't leave him, his heart skipped a beat and his breathing stopped. He struggled for a moment, taking a deep breath on a sigh. Fuck. His mind screamed, though, that fuck was quickly followed by something else, something louder, MINE. Oh, this was not good. Not this shit again. Vishous reached up with his good arm, hand landing on the cop's chest, palm flat, "Back. Off." He hissed, eyes shut tight. Touching the cop was a bad idea, he could feel his heart beat thumping against his hand.
The flat palmed touch to his chest set his whole body aflame. Their eyes met, and the panic in Butch's gaze dissolved, and hurt took its place. Butch was not one to express that kind of emotion, and if he ever suffered that kind of pain, he kept it to himself. His natural reaction to such a thing was anger, and that was just what he did. Butch shoved the man off, throwing his hand off of his chest, and looked up at him for only a split second, his expression icy. That had stung. He cared, he had put his own life on the line to defend the one life that mattered to him...and here he was, feeling like he'd gotten punched in the gut. "Fine." he snapped, about to head down the hallway. "Fuck you, man." he growled, turning his back to the dark haired vampire male. He didn't want to think about what he was feeling, he didn't want to recognize that what had just happened here...well, fuck it hurt. He felt rejected, stilted...shit, just downright upset. It wasn't very becoming of a Warrior to feel such an emotion, something so pertinent to females. He suddenly felt pretty pathetic, and with a snarl, was out the door again. Fresh air was what he needed, he thought. Fresh air, and maybe...another drink.
Vishous growled as he hit the jerked against the wall, his shoulder hitting the plaster. "Fucking shit," He cursed, everything in him screaming for the cop to stay. Butch couldn't go out there, not right now. They could not separate on such terms. When Butch told him off, he swallowed a gasp as pain clenched his heart like an unrelenting fist. Pulling himself from the wall, he bit his lip, moving after Butch as quickly as he could. "Butch," His voice came out weak, "BUTCH!" This time it came out a bark, "God Damn it Cop!" He tore after him, hand landing on the door knob, yanking it open. He moved to walk out the door and stumbling, taking the cop down on onto the pavement, "Not like this cop, you're not leaving like this," He hissed, more or less collapsing into the cop, his body suddenly just giving up.
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