In A Dead World || Vaughn || COMPLETE

[Evelyn van Buren]

"You're right," she replied shortly. She was too tired to argue. She'd shaken her head when he offered her the drink, it seemed like too much effort to take it from him; And...somehow sitting here sipping whatever was in that flask with a Hunter seemed a little too strange.

This whole situation was rather strange already. She couldn't remember the last time she'd sat chatting to a hunter in the middle of the night on a deserted street with her guard down. She blamed it on her injury. Had she been perfectly healed, she'd have left him behind ages ago.

Well, maybe. She lowered her head into her hands, trying not to pitch forward out of the seat. She didn't like to think she was that heartless. A human left injured outside usually never made it to a hospital. She had noticed the stiffness about him as he made to sit. He'd managed to sprain something fairly badly. He wasn't running anywhere for a while.

But he hadn't been alone, she reminded herself. He'd had his whole battalion with him. She wondered if it were too late to lead him back to them and then quietly vanish like she usually did when involved with human affairs. Taking the spotlight was generally Vik's job.

As she was debating the likelihood of Logan's people still being around despite his useless communications link, Evelyn's head jerked up as Logan leaned back to take another swig from his flask. She narrowed her eyes in the direction of the farther end of 81st Street. She had the horrible conviction that the Vampire was moments away. Lurking in wait for both of them to close their eyes for a single second.

She was close to it. So close. She longed to take a short nap right here, and maybe she would have if she'd been in any other area of the city. She slid her glance to Logan, wondering why her warning had had absolutely zero effect on him. Was he mentally unhinged? He must be, she decided. She was a Lycan, and even she was anxious.

Although when her whole body was slowly numbing and she was on the edge of blacking out, she doubted she would keep on caring. She was starting to tip over ever so slightly and she straightened before she could topple over on him. She did not intend to pass out in the middle of the street. Clearly Logan had been hit in the head too hard and couldn't think straight anymore, so he had yet to realize how dire the situation was.

She reached up and massaged her side gently, casting him a glance. Her fingers felt dampness. Her eyes trekked a bead of blood as it dripped down his cheek from a bruise on his forehead. She wondered if she should say anything. Sitting here rather vulnerably, she was starting to grow a little stressed, feeling like she would never be able to move again.

Logan still looked way too relaxed for someone with blood dribbling down his face. His jacket was covered in a sheen of dirt and blood and she noticed he had a twig in his hair. She stifled a sudden yawn, leaned over and yanked the flask out of his hand, deciding he'd had enough. It was making him stupider than he looked. She paused, squinting down at it and trying to decipher it by scent alone, before she lifted it to her lips with shaking hands.

Taking a quick sip, she lowered it and corked the flask with fingers that were growing more unresponsive every minute. She had to get home, get herself cleaned and patched up. What she was going to do with Logan, she didn't know.

Her feet felt like they might be able to handle a walk. She licked a few stray drops of liquor off her lips, inhaled slowly and pushed herself off the bench, biting her lip to subdue the cry of pain that rushed up her throat as her side throbbed. Logan's flask in one hand, she turned to fix him with a look that was meant to be firm but probably only looked exhausted. Not very persuasive.

"Get up. We need to move...somewhere." As she spoke, she braced a hand on the back of the bench, feeling her legs quiver just slightly. She couldn't keep functioning much longer.

"Oh, and I'm keeping this." She waved the flask at him with a satisfied half-smile before she turned and began the trek back toward the park.

She had no idea what she was going to do from here. A strange, heady feeling was overtaking her and she had barely made it past the low half-wall into Kings Landing before the ground shifted under her feet. She managed to grab onto the wall and sank to her knees to regain her balance. The blackness was once more threatening to close over her and she fought it for borrowed time.

I could go home...even if he comes along, she mused, in between scattered thoughts. It'd be worth the risk. I'd rather lose the apartment than my head.

She leaned her head back against the stone wall, feeling her legs slide out sideways. The park was somehow much quieter now. Or maybe her senses were dulled. She should've stayed on the damn bench, she thought dully as darkness swept over her.

She was only dimly aware of the world around her now. It was like a black film had been applied to her eyes, darkening shadows and blurring out edges.

[Vaughn Logan]

The bench was cold and littered with grime. Vaughn could feel his weight slipping down lower, and lower into the bench. He ran a hand besides him in order to support his weight and the feeling of toppling over. He felt chips of wood under his hands that pricked him slightly when he scanned over them.

He watched her take his flask and sip on it gently. A slight smirk ran across his face, Just chug the damn thing, he thought to himself. Vision became blurred, and the darkness became nothing but shadow. Vaughn could feel his head throbbing and moving around slowly without his control.

Vaughn watched her closely. She seemed a little pathetic as she sipped on the flask. Obviously she was feeling just as worn out and useless as he was. Alcohol fell from her lips as she quickly licked and wiped it up. But, for some odd reason (or not odd reason) everything she did seemed sensual to him; even if his vision was utter crap.

"Like hell you are" Vaughn said, reaching for it but failing. His depth perception was off and he ended up having his hand land on her thigh. He retracted it slowly, looking over at the darkened streets. "You see something?"

Vaughn could feel a hot streak running across his face, but couldn't differentiate it from a new pain, headache or possibly even a sweat-roll rolling down his face. Vaughn let it roll, leaning his head back and feeling his eyes close.

"So...what...now..--" Vaughn's voice died out but eventually he perked himself back up with a slight jump, eyes opened completely as if given a second life.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

Vaughn followed close by her, helping her stay up when she stumbled and using her for support when he felt himself giving way. They helped each other through it, even though he had a feeling she didn't want him there. A part of him didn't want to be there either. He could be sitting in front of the fireplace, sipping on a cup of coffee, propping his feet up on the coffee table--But no. Instead he was doing a drunking-waltz in the middle of the night with a beautiful Lycan woman he barely knew. Come to think of it, he's had a night similar to this before.

He watched her slump down and sat down besides her. "Something wrong?" Vaughn gave her a slight nudge and responded to himself with a follow up, "You okay?" She looked lifeless and about ready to fall over. It would be a long night.

------------

Words: 436

[Evelyn van Buren]

The hunter had followed her when she began moving. She’d understood the weariness he was probably feeling; it mirrored hers, and so she had no, as she normally would, snapped at him when he held onto her arm. She hadn't even said anything remotely threatening when he'd reached for the flask while they'd been seated and put his hand on her thigh rather uninvited.

She didn't really have grounds to complain at the moment. She was sure she was leaning more of her weight on him than vice versa. Maybe he hadn't noticed.

Fat chance. He was probably aware she was no real threat to him regardless of her calm words.

"Something wrong? You okay?" he was asking her now, as she tried to fight back the urge to close her eyes and yield to an enticing unconsciousness where her side wouldn't feel like it was being branded by a white-hot poker. She clenched and unclenched her fists, the prick of her fingernails on her palms jabbing her sharply awake. Inhaling sharply, she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to conceal how she flinched even at a simple nudge.

"I'm fine," she said, too intent on staying awake to filter her tongue. Her golden-brown eyes met his, flashing in annoyance. "I just like to sprawl on cold sidewalks for my own amusement."

As she spoke, she could sense the lurking Vampire drawing closer. The ache in her side seemed to recede in light of this threat. Or maybe the healing process had finally begun.

She reached out and braced one hand on Logan's shoulder, one on the half-wall behind her, and hoisted herself onto her feet in one liquid move. The only thing that gave her away was the sudden bloodless pallor of her face as the pain caught up two seconds later.

She pressed a hand gently to her side, biting her lower lip hard, and looked down at the hunter commander. He didn't seem to be showing any signs of superhuman healing, so she reached down, yanking Logan up rather roughly. She was definitely healing, but he still felt abnormally heavy for a human. Even a muscular human. Evelyn staggered momentarily and caught her balance before she slipped her arm through his to support his weight (and occasionally to lean on him if she needed it) and continued walking. She only paused to pick up Logan's flask.

She kept silent as they trudged through trees and shrubbery. Moonlight dappled on their heads through the green canopy overhead. The park was eerily silent, like it was holding its breath so she could hear every twitch of grass around them. As they stepped around a prickly bush, she glanced behind her, trying to test the air with both her ears and nose for signs of the Vampire. Still tracking them.

She led Logan to a stream of cheerfully tinkling water from the lake, pulling him gently across it. The water only came up to her knees before they reached the shore, where she felt their scent sufficiently muddled, and led him into the woods again.

"That ought to confuse the bastard," she murmured, pausing in a little grove of ash trees. Logan wasn't looking like he could handle more walking, and she was aware he tired out much quicker than she did. She pulled away from him and sank down onto a fallen tree trunk, ignoring the sickeningly sweet smell of decaying wood. She was simply too exhausted to care that her several-hundred-dollar dress was now splattered with dirt and bloodstains. She picked off a twig caught in the beautiful silk belt at her waist and expelled an aggrieved breath.

"I think you need a break," she said to Logan with a characteristic note of finality in case he decided to do what most men did when their strength was questioned, and act macho.

She waited for him to find a seat somewhere and then asked a question she'd been mulling over on their walk, when she wasn't busy cringing over the dry-cleaning bill she was about to incur. "What compelled you to run after me? Especially without a weapon?" She tilted her head curiously at him, one hand going up to massage her side again. "Were you planning to tackle me with a stake? Hold me at stake-point and question me, perhaps?" Thin, arched eyebrows rose in mild amusement. "You are a strange breed for an already strange breed of humans."

[Vaughn Logan]

"Sprawling, eh?" Vaughn said almost half-eyed and dizzy. At the moment he was in the mindset of a college girl at a party for the first time, not knowing where anything is and ending up walking into a refrigerator or a half-full trash container. Walking was almost a chore at this point, but he knew they had to continue on because of the Vampire undoubtedly lurking close behind.

They past through trees, thick brush, and other areas alike just to flee from a Vampire. Vaughn had doubts there was even one following them. For all he knew the werewolf could have been lying, or her senses could have been damaged due to her current state of fatigue; there was no real way to be sure.

"That ought to confuse the bastard"

The bastard? Vaughn couldn't differentiate if she was talking about him or the Vampire, because right now he could feel himself knee almost knee deep in cold water for no apparent reason. Was he in a cold sweat? Didn't matter; Vaughn kept on walking.

"I think you need a break"

"I think you're right," Vaughn said, lifting up a hand weakly with his eyes still squinting. Vision was still coming back, that was good. That Vamp-bitch must have hit him hard if it was even affecting his vision and brain activity.

"I feel like shit" Vaughn said, sitting a little distance away at the end of the tree trunk. Vaughn was no able to interpret his sentences and realize he what he was saying; that's a good start.

"Sorry to disappoint you but I still got my pistols" He said, shifting his jacket open, revealing a little bit of a metallic object tucked away in it's holster along his belt.

Vaughn could hear the shifting of mice in the thick layer of dead tree leaves that lay scattered across the forest floor. A sudden hooing sound in the distance; Vaughn wasn't the only one hunting out here tonight.

"A stake? What good would that do?" Vaughn let out a scoff and looked down at the ground, spotting a greet caterpillar scrawled out against a rock, squirming around frantically for a reason Vaughn couldn't understand at the moment.

"If I would've been hunting Lycans all this time with a stake I probably wouldn't have much of a body left."

Vaughn turned and faced the werewolf, shifting his body weight to one side and maneuvering himself so he was in a more confrontational position.

"Are you afraid of me?" Vaughn said, looking at her with his eyes partially squint, forming a serious look on his face. In the corner of his eye he spotted movement. Another hooing sounded and he could see a great large silhouette of an owl swoop down and pick up it's dinner with it's talons, dragging it away with it to the top of the treetops.

"Are you afraid that one day I'll be looking at you through my sights; are you afraid that one day you'll be the hunted?"

------------

Words: 508

[Evelyn van Buren]

Despite the dark, Evelyn's eyes could track his gaze and she followed it to a caterpillar crawling and wriggling around on a rock near his feet,

She looked up and her eyes alighted on the glint of a pistol at his side as his jacket fell back down. Evelyn turned her head and cast her keen eyes around the clearing, listening for sounds of oncoming danger and deciding that letting on to him that his firearm disquieted her was unwise.

She hated guns, really truly did not enjoy being on the receiving end or even holding one. They always felt to her like a double-edged weapon, too easily and often misused. There was little skill needed to cause severe damage and she'd seen enough bullet-riddled bodies of her kin to be able to shake off the buzz of alarm she now felt. When she'd been a young girl, barely fifteen, she'd had her first encounter with a gun - her mother's death at the hands of a hunter. She had ended up resenting the weapon more than its wielder. It was a quick, efficient way to eliminate a problem but, unlike a crossbow, the only skill required was that you aim in the general direction of your target.

It was probably this convenience that made humans overconfident in their handguns and put death in the hands of people who didn't know how to use it.

She privately thought she'd rather be feathered by a silver-tipped arrow shot at her by an expert marksman than a silver bullet shot off by some rookie hunter who got lucky.

She felt the log tremble slightly beneath her as Logan shifted. She shot him a glance, taking in his sudden change in posture. She didn't make a move in response.

Even when his words took her somewhat by surprise. She ignored the tremble in the air as an owl swooped low nearby, ignored the sudden stench of rodent blood as it found a meal. Her eyes blazed in a mixture of defence and anger at his words. Did she seem like she was scared? Automatically, her spine stiffened and she crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to wince as her wounded side ached.

Maybe she was. He was armed and she was not. She doubted he would prove a threat to her, but she was also under no assumption she was safe. Hunters were unpredictable, and she wouldn't put it past him to backstab her if he needed a way out of a dangerous situation. Humans were terribly speciesist beings.

"Are you afraid?" he asked her again several times, this hunter she didn't know well enough to fear. She supposed most sane Lycans would be. She'd always urged her kind to be wary of any encounters with hunters.

She pulled her gaze from his for a moment to formulate her answer. She wasn't sure why he'd ask such a thing - did he expect her to say yes?

Well, she was about to disappoint him. Evelyn's hostile stare vanished, replaced with her usual air of impassivity. She pushed herself to her feet, walking carefully toward the other side of the clearing as one hand massaged her side. She leaned against a tree, already breathless, and checked her watch. Its glass front was miraculously intact. Evelyn lowered her wrist and met Logan's eyes across the few feet of space between them. "I could ask you the same, Mister Logan," she said coolly. Her mouth quirked into a wry smile. "Except going by the very telling way you displayed that gun, I already have my answer."

The smile she gave him now was decidedly wolfish, the gold in her light-brown eyes glinting almost maliciously. She wondered if he'd fall for it. He'd already seen her in a weak moment, but he had to know she was recovering. Slowly.

Deciding she had notched the hostility level up enough, she straightened, sucking in her breath and letting it out slowly to ease her body's aches. "We should go. The longer we sit around, the more things will decide they want to eat us." She glanced over her shoulder at him, adding matter-of-factly, "And yes, there are Vampires who won't pass up Lycan for dinner."

Without waiting for him, she stepped out of the clearing. She was almost certain now that he could make his way home. He wasn't unarmed. She felt no reason to stay.

With an agility honed through her canine form, she slipped between the trees, vanishing in the direction of the path.