Adrian Moretti (theneedtofeed) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2020-06-12 02:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | #january 2018, adrian, adrian x toby, toby |
Who: Adrian & Toby
Where: Toby's apartment, Haven Park
When: Wednesday, wee hours 01/24
Status: Complete
Adrian had hoped he wouldn't stand on these particular crossroads again, where he had to choose a road to go down and they all sucked. Well, in his case it wasn't even really a crossroad, there were two paths to take and while he knew which one was the right one, morally, and ethically, it was the tougher one physically and he felt so tired. He knew he healed faster when he got hungry, when he indulged that beast inside him and let it grow stronger. It'd make the pain go away, he'd lose himself but for someone who apparently couldn't die that was starting to sound less unappealing. The problem was that he wasn't alone in his car far away from civilization. He was in Toby Mitchell's house and Toby was sleeping just down the hall from him. If Adrian let go of it all, he might just eat the guy who'd saved his ass and trusted him enough to take him home.
He sat in the shower until the water went cold, his body hurting too much to move until he absolutely had to and in the end he wound up sleeping in there after he turned the cool water off. His body needed sleep and while the couch was tempting, walking there was not. A few hours. It didn't take much longer than that for the hunger to start and he dragged himself out and pulled on the scrubs Toby had lent him. They were predictably a little snug and the pants were too long but he could still wear them and it was better than the mess he'd been wearing when he... died. Fuck it felt weird to think of it like that but there was no doubt in his mind that had happened and he had no idea why he didn't stay dead. He shuffled barefoot out in the hall, hand pressed against the wall for balance. His head still felt like he'd been hit by a truck and the dizziness sucked but the alternative was worse. He had to eat. He had to eat something that wasn't Toby. All he could do was hope Toby wasn't vegan or some shit, Adrian didn't know what he'd do if there was no meat in this apartment and he sighed in relief when he opened the fridge and found ham and uncooked ground beef. Sorry Toby he thought to himself as he took both packages with him to sit at the small kitchen table, tearing the plastic off and wincing at the thought of trying to swallow actual solid food. He almost laughed as he wondered if Toby had a mixer to make smoothies but even if he did, it'd be too damn noisy and it was only two in the morning, or so the oven clock told him. He ended up with a glass of water, pouring some of it onto the meat and squishing it together before forcing himself to eat it, the fork shaking in one hand, his other hand covering his eyes as if he could will his headache away just by putting pressure on his temples.
It was the dead of the night when Toby woke, yet he’d had a good eight hours of sleep and found himself starving. He knew he’d eaten before crashing, but that bowl of spaghettis no longer felt like enough. After tossing and turning for ten minutes, he decided to hell with it and climbed out of bed, thinking that a PBJ should tide him over till morning. He pulled on his kimono over his pajama pants and padded into the kitchen, freezing the instant he saw Adrian at the table. For a second he’d forgotten why he was there, but then everything came flooding back in an instant. Of course Adrian might be hungry, and he was welcome to whatever he could find in Toby’s kitchen, but the sight of him eating raw meat was enough to make him reconsider his own appetite. “You sure you don’t want to cook that first?” he asked, visibly cringing. “Or… I mean… I’ve got some ketchup.”
Adrian peeked between two fingers and squinted at Toby. He might have been amused at the sight of him if he didn't feel so crappy, pajamas and a kimono was an interesting mix of clothes but... It suited Toby somehow, he'd always been like that. He shook his head at the offer and cringed a little bit himself because he knew what this looked like. It could have been worse, he could have been curled up in the corner, eating the damn thing with his fingers. He'd certainly felt tempted to do that but realized it was a little too feral, even for him. "Sorry," he murmured hoarsely and at least he could do that now, vocalize a little better. "I was starving."
“Yeah,” Toby said slowly. “I figured. I just meant… I’ve got better things than raw beef. Like Pop-tarts.” While not nutritious, they were delicious, at least in his opinion, and a much better late night snack than Adrian’s selection. “Would you like a smoothie? Or… are you happy with what you’ve got?” The urge to reach out psychically and figure out what the fuck was going on was so strong, but Toby was worried if he opened that can of worms he wouldn’t be able to put them back. His head had been a mess earlier and it had finally calmed down a bit. He dreaded starting it back up. “Your head hurting?” he asked as he padded on into the kitchen. The Oxycontin should have lasted a good long time, but maybe it had started to wear off. Adrian had been in pretty bad shape and would be feeling it without something to help numb the pain.
"Everything hurts," Adrian whispered, forcing another bite of meat in his mouth and chewing it slowly. Having someone there to see him eat made him realize just how gross it was but he couldn't really taste it like that, it was soothing - at least until it came time to swallow again. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly through his nose before doing so, wincing as the soft meat felt like spiky metal going down. "I should be dead," he whispered after a moment. Toby wasn't stupid, he'd seen the injuries, had looked alarmed, Adrian knew he wasn't oblivious to how something was very wrong here.
Toby nodded in agreement as he got out the bread, then the peanut butter and jelly. He sat down on the other side of the table and began to make himself a sandwich, doing his best to act like Adrian eating raw meat was normal. Why was it, out of everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours, that that bothered him? Because it’s inhuman, he thought, but then that wasn’t fair. People ate raw meat when they had to, when they had no other choice, but Adrian wasn’t desperate. He had a pantry full of food that had to be more palpable. “Why aren’t you?” he asked, looking up at Adrian as he licked peanut butter off the knife. As a nurse, Toby knew Adrian should be, but it was more than that. He knew things that didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t outright ask about them, not without raising questions of his own.
Adrian paused, dropped his hand from his face and to the table as he thought about it. "I don't know," he whispered. "But I'm not okay. Haven't been... For a while." He took a deep breath, let the pain roll through him like waves before it quieted down a bit again. "I don't think I'm fully human anymore." That was essentially a lie. He knew he wasn't fully human anymore but telling Toby he was a monster didn't feel like a super good idea. He thought he knew him well enough to assume he'd take this all in stride but people could be surprising and maybe Toby would freak out. He'd probably be right to freak out too, but Adrian was trying to break it gently to avoid it. "I'm already healing."
That was a surprise that Toby hadn’t counted on and he set the knife down, studying Adrian for a moment before he leaned across the table and rested his hand on Adrian’s arm. He left it there for just a moment, then sat back in his seat, scooping more peanut butter out of the jar and eating it off the end of the knife. “You had severe damage to your trachea when I found you. Possibly a fracture. Now… Well… You can talk. And eat.” His non-medical opinion was that it was a miracle. Adrian was definitely healing, he could feel it when he touched him. He was nowhere near as bad off as he’d been when he went to bed. “I think you’re human so long as you have your brain. Our way of thinking is what separates us from the rest. Are you a werewolf?” he asked, then immediately thought no, not a werewolf. Yet he still thought it was good that it wasn’t a full moon.
Adrian almost laughed at the question, not because it was stupid but because it was so nonchalant. Was he a werewolf? Did werewolves exist? He'd seen a lot of weird stuff by now but never a werewolf. Had Toby? "Wendigo," he said and that felt as weird to say as that question had been to hear. "I got infected, have to eat every few hours or I go crazy. Bad crazy." He scooped up some meat as if for emphasis, chewing slowly as he watched Toby curiously. He didn't want to go into too much detail and it wasn't just because it hurt to talk though that certainly didn't help. Telling Toby he could feel his body change and had a craving for human flesh just felt like a very bad idea.
“Wendigo,” Toby said, sitting back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the one on the corner. “That’s a new one.” He’d seen a lot as a child, then even more as a nurse working in Point Pleasant’s ER, but this was his first time to hear that term outside a book or a movie. He tried to recall what he knew about them, but came up with nothing, knowing good and well that it was likely fiction anyways. “Can you only eat raw meat? Or is that an unrelated kink?” he asked, raising a brow. If it was protein he needed, Toby could scramble him up some eggs. Or at least season and cook the beef. But he kind of thought this was part of it. It made him glad that Adrian had found something to eat, since “bad crazy” sounded like something he couldn’t have dealt with.
Adrian wasn't sure if Toby was indulging him or if he really believed him but it didn't really matter to him at the moment. He was in pain and it was hard to care about anything else when that was the case. He almost laughed at the kink thing though because no, god no, raw meat was not a kink. "I was starving," he murmured sheepishly, his voice quiet and raw. "And it's soft," he added in a whisper to spare himself that pain. He probably should be quiet, he thought, let it finish healing, but he wanted to talk so he wasn't going to force himself to be mute. "I've been living off beef jerky mostly."
“So, meat then,” Toby said, connecting the dots. Beef jerky wasn’t raw, but it was still meat. That meant a can of soup, even cold, wouldn’t have cut it. “I can make you scrambled eggs, if that counts. Or, like, shredded chicken, which would be soft. You’re lucky I’m not a vegetarian anymore,” he said with a little smile. It was a kick he’d been on that only lasted about six weeks, brought on by one of his exes. It turned out that he liked hamburgers and chicken wings more than his ex. “You weren’t like this before. I’d have noticed. Did this happen when you disappeared?” He knew there was more to the story than Adrian could tell, but he’d come this far, he might as well ask. He’d rather have the truth than try to fill in the gaps himself.
Adrian just nodded at that. There had been six guys on that trip including him and only two had gotten out alive. Now he was the last one. It really wasn't something he wanted to talk about, nor was the vegan thing. They were both lucky there was meat in Toby's kitchen. "You feel like cooking?" he asked instead, giving Toby a pained and incredulous smile as he glanced at the clock. It all sounded good, even if anything he ate would hurt for now, but a hot meal? His stomach did something at the thought, so how could he refuse? He was always running so even when he slept at Aaron's old place he hadn't dared fire up the stove and cook something. Stupid and paranoid maybe, but it had kept him safe up until now.
Toby had meant the vegan bit as a joke, but the way it fell flat made him worry. If he hadn’t had something for Adrian to eat in his kitchen, he got the feeling things would have been very bad indeed. It gave hangry a whole new meaning. “Sure,” Toby said with a little shrug of his shoulder. “Can you have other things, like seasonings? Or does it have to be strictly meat?” He could probably let his senses guide him, but he didn’t want to risk fucking it up. “So… last night, earlier, the guy that attacked you… was that while you were hungry?” he asked as he finished making his sandwich and rose to start cooking. “Or was that something else?” Toby wanted to ask if the guy was still alive, if they should be watching their backs and locking their doors, but he also thought it was better not to. Then, if a body showed up, he could honestly claim he knew nothing about it.
Adrian nodded and shook his head to Toby's questions where appropriate. He could eat seasoning, he could eat anything he could eat before but only meat seemed to keep that particular hunger at bay, the one that made his skin feel tight and his tattoos start bleeding. The last question wasn't easily answered without speaking though so he swallowed his latest bite and helped himself to a sip of water before he tried to talk. "He came out of nowhere," he whispered. "I was walking." He shook his head slowly, a crackling sound in his throat making him feel a little uneasy. It passed and he took a shaky breath. "I think something was wrong last night, with the town." He didn't have a lot to go on but the fight he'd seen just before he was attacked told him it was probably another messed up Point Pleasant event.
“No shit,” Toby snorted. “The hospital was a madhouse. People were either passed out or fighting. It was like everyone had lost their minds. I tried, but… I couldn’t stay.” It bothered him more now that he was feeling a little more like himself. He’d never walked off a shift like that. Never. There were patients that needed him that he’d abandoned and the guilt hit him hard as he began to wonder what had happened to them. He couldn’t know without going in and finding out for himself. “It was bad,” he said quietly. “It still is, I think.” Toby was quiet for a moment, then got the chicken out of the fridge. He didn’t think it would be safe to go out tomorrow, even if he was scheduled to work. He’d call in sick if he had to. He couldn’t handle another day like yesterday and it was better than having to walk out two days in a row.
"Glad you didn't," Adrian whispered. He wouldn't have died if Toby hadn't happened upon him, but he would have suffered, there was no doubt in his mind about that. He just didn't know how much he would have suffered, if someone else could have found him, if he could have gotten arrested, if that murderous crazy man could have caught up with him somehow despite all the bloodloss. At best, Adrian would have curled up in a cold car, trying to choke down oxy and food in his soiled clothes. This was better, even if it meant another person knew his secret. "Can I... use your washing machine before I leave?" If not he supposed he could borrow the scrubs, sneak off to Aaron's place again. Not that he wanted Aaron or Mila to see the dark bruise on his neck.
“Yeah, me too,” Toby said. “Lucky you.” It was one of those times that Toby thought it was his own abilities working on himself, steering his decisions without him really knowing or understanding them. It wasn’t the first time he’d just been at the right place at the right time, but this seemed especially lucky. On any other day, he’d have worked his shift to the end. “Sure,” he said, putting the pan on the stove to heat. “Whatever you need.” It amazed him that Adrian was worried about his laundry at the moment, but he supposed that made sense if he didn’t want to leave in scrubs. It just wasn’t high on Toby’s priority list. “You didn’t seem effected yesterday like everyone else,” he said conversationally. “Even I felt a little out of control. You think it’s ‘cause of what you are?”
"Maybe," Adrian mumbled and it was a good thing Toby wasn't hard of hearing or this conversation would have been a wash. He hadn't even been sure that it was a town-wide thing until Toby told him even if he suspected as much. It wouldn't be the first time he was unaffected by something going on and he couldn't help but think of the giant shadows in the fog and how they either didn't notice him or plain ignored him. "Guess... it has its perks. You didn't seem too affected." Or maybe Adrian had just been too out of it to notice. He winced again, resting his hand against his throat as if touching it could make the pain less somehow.
“Yeah, I was just a ball of rainbows yesterday,” Toby muttered, but didn’t argue. He hadn’t been attacking people, that was for damn sure, but it had messed with him in other ways that went beyond his mood. He couldn’t explain how it felt like the radio in his head had been turned up with no way to dial it back, not without disclosing his own bizarre abilities. And while he didn’t think Adrian would run screaming, he suspected he’d lose whatever trust was between them. Instead he focused on cooking the chicken, adding seasoning and some chopped onions for flavor. The chicken wouldn’t be as soft as the uncooked beef, but that just meant that Adrian would have to chew the meat before swallowing it. “It seems safest to maybe lay low until it passes. I feel better today, but that might change if I step outside, you know?”
"This fucking town," Adrian whispered, covering his eyes again. The smell of sweet spices and cooking meat was filling the kitchen and it made his stomach growl and his mouth water. It had been way too long since he had good food and judging by the smell, this was going to be amazing. He just wished he could enjoy it properly. He itched to call Mila but his voice was shot and she'd know something was wrong. Not to mention it was deadass the middle of the night. He just hoped she and Aaron were okay.
“Right? It’s like some kind of a beacon for weird shit,” Toby said with a soft snort. In the time he’d been away from Point Pleasant, he’d learned that other places weren’t near as dangerous, yet he still found himself coming back home. Despite everything, he felt safer there, close to family and friends. No matter how much he bitched, he doubted he’d ever leave. Toby yawned but kept cooking, and was soon setting a plate of hot chicken and onions down in front of Adrian. “I’m not the best cook, and it’d be better over rice, but I think you’ll like it,” he said with a little smile. “And if it helps you heal, even better.” The nurse in him was super curious about that part. He’d never seen anyone healing like Adrian was and it was fascinating.
Adrian knew he'd be healing faster if he didn't eat but there was no way he was letting this thing take control. He'd fight it for as long as he was able to do so, hold out until he couldn't do so any longer, physically or mentally. "Thanks," he whispered, eyeing the food with a weird emotion welling up inside him. Mix of emotions, really, hunger and gratitude mixed with regret and an acute sense of homesickness. "Smells good." He felt like crying but instead he picked up his fork and knife, poked at the chicken before cutting a piece small enough that it might hurt less to swallow. It had been forever and a year since he had onions and he'd straight up forgotten how sweet they could be but he could taste them now, even before he put them in his mouth, and that just made him feel more emotional. At least he could blame any red-eyed nonsense on his pain, he wasn't terribly eager to air all his feelings.
Something that Toby could never turn all the way off was his sense of perception. If people were angry, even if they tried to hide it, he knew. If they were upset, it was the same, even if they concealed it well. Adrian’s emotional reaction was complex enough that Toby couldn’t pinpoint it, but he knew it was intense. He smiled and ruffled Adrian’s hair, then took a seat on the other side of the table before taking another bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “You know… if you ever need a place do just… do laundry… let me know,” he said thoughtfully. He still didn’t know where Adrian was staying, but he had the feeling it was in his car. He’d had some rough times in his life, but he couldn’t imagine what that would be like. They hadn’t really been friends before, just acquaintances, maybe work buddies, but he felt like it wasn’t outlandish to offer now. And it felt like the right thing to do.
"I stay with my brother in law sometimes," Adrian whispered before shrugging. "Future brother in law." He hoped Aaron and Mila were in it for the long run, he needed Aaron to be there for her, especially now. "Thanks," he added with a little smile to Toby because while he had one place to sneak to, it meant a lot to have somewhere else too, with someone who knew what was going on with him, someone who'd patched him up. They'd never really had an in depth conversation about anything outside of work, Adrian had always envied Toby of how open he was about his sexuality, how free he was in his self expression but he'd always teased him about it - good naturedly, sure, but still. It all felt so far away now, his friends, his work, his family. Even Toby seemed different but Adrian supposed that happened when he was gone for five years.
Toby might’ve changed over the past five years, though if he’d had insight into Adrian’s thoughts he would’ve pointed out how different the circumstances were. The two times they’d run into each other, Adrian had shared something of himself with Toby, something Toby knew instinctively was private. With Adrian being vulnerable, Toby wasn’t as quick to throw up his own walls—he kept the lying to a minimum and was focused more on caring for a friend than on protecting his own hide. Appearances didn’t matter as much in the dead of the night, when his audience needed to be fed more than impressed. “Good man,” he said thoughtfully. He hadn’t cared for Aaron himself, but he’d seen him in the hospital, just like he’d seen Mila. They’d had their own share of rough times, as well as a good amount of gossip. “How’s your sister doing? Feeling better?”
Adrian shrugged softly and gave Toby a wry smile. Of course he knew, probably even more than he was letting on, he was a nurse at Mercy and Adrian knew damn well that working there gave people an interesting peek at everyone's lives. "She's healing," he whispered and she had a long way to go considering where she'd been but he had faith she'd get through it. She had their parents, she had Aaron and she'd always been far stronger than she looked. "This fucking town, you know." It wasn't his to tell and he sure as hell didn't want to talk about the tunnel and the things he'd done to get Mila out, but he still felt compelled to make sure Toby knew it hadn't been Mila who stabbed Aaron, his little sister wasn't capable of something like that.
Toby didn’t have to use his powers to know that something wasn’t right about Mila stabbing Aaron. It was too bizarre, and in that way, too normal for their town. Violent crime was all too common in Point Pleasant, but never for typical reasons. Fog rolled into town and people attacked each other for no reason. People went to Halloween parties and lost their minds, convinced they were whomever they’d dressed up as, including serial killers. For someone often working Mercy’s Emergency Room, it didn’t surprise Toby to hear the town had a part in it and he nodded in sympathy. “I kind of figured,” he nodded. “Glad to hear she’s doing okay though. And that you’ve got her. Family’s important, you know? And people you can trust. Especially when they’re limited.”
Adrian nodded, still struggling with his mixed feelings of how good the food felt in his mouth and how bad it felt going down. He wanted to stuff his mouth full of the delicious chicken but for ease of swallowing he had to keep his bites tiny and it was frustrating as hell. He also wanted to just shoot the shit with Toby, ask him questions, bring up memories but he was useless, tired and in pain so mostly he just wanted to try to eat and then try to sleep again. "Why do you stay here?" he asked between bites, giving Toby a somewhat baffled smile. There was both the non-stop Point Pleasant nonsense but then there was the fact that Toby was gay and finding someone in a small town was hard enough for a straight guy.
“Million dollar question,” Toby said with a little grin and for a second that instinct kicked in, the desire to make up something outlandish, a grand story to hide away the truth. Most people didn’t believe Toby’s lies, but that wasn’t even the point. It distracted them, kept them from asking again, from demanding something more private. He opened his mouth to start down that road, but what came out was something different. “My mom was here. She died a couple years ago. I kept thinking I would move to a big city, get myself a high-rise apartment, hit the clubs, have a life, but… I feel normal here. As normal as I’ll ever get,” he said, lips turning up a touch. “This fucking town… I think it’s just had it’s claws in me too long. Leaving feels wrong now.” Or maybe he was just scared. That made more sense, but instinct always told him to stay and Toby trusted his instinct more than anything else.
Adrian knew as well as anyone that people always came back. He'd studied in Portland and he'd meant to work in Portland, live some sneaky double life where he could be himself without breaking his mother's heart. Yet he'd ended up back home working at Mercy, closeted and miserable. He shouldn't even be here now, the risk of being seen by someone who recognized him was too high and yet he couldn't keep away. Point Pleasant always drew people back home. He gave Toby a small smile that said he understood, that he related. "I wish I'd believed all the stories," he whispered. "Every single one." Maybe then his friends would be alive, maybe he would still be normal.
Toby thought about that for a second, what it was like knowing that there were monsters in the woods or bad men on the streets. He hadn’t known it from the beginning, but he’d found out at a pretty early age, and it had definitely tainted his way of thinking. “I dunno. That’s a lot to believe in—witches, ghosts, monsters, and psychics,” he said. “You’d come across sounding crazy. Or super paranoid. You might not be as safe knowing nothing, but… you’d probably be happier. I sometimes envy the people that don’t realize what’s going on around here. It’s kind of a rude awakening when you figure it out.” He was sure Adrian knew that much at this point. The question was, if he’d known before, would it have made a difference?
Adrian had known there was something strange at the hospital and he'd never fully understood what it was. He wanted a scientific explanation for the noises he'd heard and the smell of smoke he caught in the hallways sometimes but no such luck. Like most of the staff at Mercy, he just chalked it up to something he didn't understand and probably never would, just a weird quirk of the world and nothing to really worry about. It hadn't prepared him for a real life monster in the woods and if he had truly understood something like that could exist in the Blackwater Woods, he would never have stepped food in there. So it was easy to scoff at Toby's words and shake his head. "I wish I'd known," he insisted in a quiet hiss. "Everyone's dead but me."
“True,” Toby said. “Would’ve been someone else though. That’s the curse of this town. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He probably sounded flippant about it, but he’d had a lot of time to think about it. It was impossible to protect everyone, not without running them out of town. People learned to accept Point Pleasant on their own terms, in their own time, but almost always because they’d had an experience of their own, not because of someone else’s warning. He’d seen it happen often enough that he’d just come to accept that was the way it was. “You’re alive though, you know. With some pretty incredible healing abilities. Use it. Protect the people you care about. That’s why you’re still here, isn’t it?”
Adrian thought he would rather it had been someone else, someone he didn't know or care about. He could still see his best friend's empty eyes staring out from a bloody face and it was a sight that haunted him to this day. He didn't say as much because he knew it was a horrible thing to think or say but he felt it keenly. Let it happen to someone else. What Toby said next shook him out of that morbid line of thinking because yes, he'd come home specifically to make sure Mila was okay. He hadn't even intended to stay but she had needed him and he had done horrible things to help her. Now... Who was going to keep her safe from him when he inevitably lost his grip on the last of his humanity? "Yeah," he whispered. "S'why I'm here."
Toby hadn’t had to use his powers to make that deduction. It was the only thing that made sense. Adrian could have gone anywhere else and lived a semi-normal life, rather than being in hiding, but if he left then he couldn’t protect his sister and he didn’t think she was leaving. What would have made sense was for everyone to leave, but they didn’t. Everyone stayed, for whatever reason, and the few that left seemed to come back eventually. “Should you call her? Do you have your phone? I didn’t even think to grab things when we were by your car.” All that had mattered in the moment was getting Adrian to safety. A little thing like a cell phone had skipped his mind.
Adrian shook his head. Maybe tomorrow, if his voice was back to normal but he wasn't counting on that. At the rate he'd healed maybe he'd be able to speak without it hurting in a few hours and that alone would be a huge improvement. Let alone eating. All he knew was that he didn't want to talk to Mila now, even if his voice had gotten better he knew she'd pick up on something being wrong. And now he kept thinking he had to get the fuck out of town because whatever it was he was becoming was slowly getting the upper hand and that wasn't something he was looking forward to telling his sister. Voicemail... Maybe he could just leave her a message and not actually talk to her. His stomach twisted in discomfort at the thought of what that would do to her and he pushed it all from his mind for now. Heal, then think. "Maybe I'll borrow your phone later," he said quietly, pushing the now nearly empty plate away before forcing some water down his throat. He wasn't hungry anymore - not that kind of hungry at least, no pangs and rageful thoughts, just the usual kind of hunger that never went away.
Toby nodded, figuring that it could probably wait a bit anyways since it was the middle of the night, and rose from the table to grab Adrian’s plate and take it to the sink. He could clean up the kitchen in the morning, once the sun came up and he was feeling a little more like himself. As much as he hoped that the day might be normal, he was going to be careful about venturing out again. Calling in sick sounded more and more appealing. “You should probably get some rest,” he said. “Or you can watch TV if you want. But I’m gonna crash. We’ll find your car and your phone and all that stuff in the morning.” If Adrian wasn’t affected by whatever was going around, it might be safe to go out with him. The question was, was Toby safe? He thought so, but wouldn’t blame Adrian if he didn’t want to take his chances.
Adrian felt it keenly now, how much he had missed 'good' people and it stirred up a whole new tornado of emotion in him that he wasn't willing to look at too closely. He gave Toby a little smile instead, one that didn't really reach his eyes and just came off tired and defeated. "Thanks," he whispered and maybe he would watch TV. It sounded so absurdly normal and it might help him fall asleep and not think about what it felt like to have large hands crushing his neck or staring into the dead faces of his friends. He wanted to tell Toby he'd be out of his hair as soon as he was feeling better but it was a lot of words and it was also a promise he didn't trust himself to keep. What if he got worse? The thought of being alone in his car with guys like Kane out there didn't exactly fill him with confidence. He had no idea why the man had wanted to kill him but he suspected it was because of what he was becoming.
If there was anything else Toby could have done, he would have hung around, but he thought Adrian probably needed rest more than anything else. At least now that he’d had some food. He wasn’t totally sure how he felt about the news that Adrian was a Wendigo, but he wasn’t as shocked as he probably should be. It was something to google with a grain of salt when he was feeling a little more with it, keeping in mind that the internet couldn’t separate fact, fiction, and legend. But he wouldn’t do that now. If it turned out to be something horrible, like Adrian had hinted at, he didn’t need that keeping him up. “Wake me if you need anything. I’m just down the hall,” he said, then gave Adrian a little wave before wandering back to bed.
Adrian was dead set on not waking Toby for anything. He was already doing so much for Adrian, he deserved to sleep. Adrian hoped he could sleep too, he felt safer in here than he would in the car, there was nothing in his files that led to Toby so it was a stretch that anyone would look for him here and he had enough food to keep the beast at bay while he wasn't sleeping. He waited until Toby had left the kitchen before he got to his feet, bringing some water with him to the living room. It'd be nice to curl up under a blanket and watch something braindead on TV until he - hopefully - fell asleep but he still couldn't shake that deep seated fear that something else would go wrong - if not tonight, then in the morning when they left the house again.