Adventuring through twisted time.
Raffaele gave a scoff mixed with a sarcastic laugh at Michael's response. "You have a funny way of showing gratitude, you know." His arms folded across his chest in defiance then to the human wanting him to sit down. "I guess I should've just let you bleed out and die there in that filthy alleyway. Very dignified way of going. I'm sorry I interrupted it." His maroon brown hues stayed on Michael a few more moments, but eventually he softened slightly and moved a few feet from the front of the bed. He knew he could be a bit intense sometimes, but really it was only because he wanted to solve this current problem before more began popping up over the city. It wasn't guaranteed he would be there the next time this newborn was out in an overpopulated city of ripe humans to devour. "It's not twenty questions, it's just a few key important ones. I figured you would want some justice since you nearly died and all, but if that's not really something you're interested in.."
Time was running out. Soon the room was going to be visited by hospital staff, detectives, or both, and Raffaele didn't think trying to hold a room full of people hostage with his abilities was the right play. His eyes moved to the open doorway where people continued moving to and fro in the busy emergency room when Michael had asked him if he'd known someone who was a victim to the man who'd also attacked him. "No. Like I said. Concerned citizen." The sanguine didn't even try and make it sound more convincing because he didn't have the patience any longer now that the minutes were slipping away and his window for information was closing on him.
Apparently that wasn't going to sit right with Michael as the next words to leave his mouth made Raffaele smirk. "Are you seriously bargaining with me right now?" Frankly, he was a little impressed by the human's gall and strength still. He didn't answer right away, but again, he was running out of time. Even if he could use hypnosis on Michael then, it could take time to find all the information he needed, even when the human didn't realize he knew what he did. Pulling that information from his mind wasn't simple if the conscious didn't know what it was supposed to be looking for. Raffaele finally conceded in annoyance. "Fine."
A few minutes later and the sanguine was rolling a rickety wheelchair into the room with a pile of clothes that he'd borrowed from a neighboring patient that would have to make do. "Get changed. I'll be right outside the door. Just open up when you're ready." Raffaele didn't particularly like this idea at all, but it was the best option for now. Closing the door behind him, he put his back against the heavy wood and folded his arms again as if he was guarding something precious on the other side. It didn't take long for the nurse from before to come over and when she came close enough, Raffaele caught her blue optics in his. His head softly shook from side to side. A very simple gesture, but the woman stopped where she was and swayed for just a brief moment as if suddenly forgetting why she was at the door. With a confused look, the nurse turned and went back to the desk, making him sigh. "Regretting this already," he mumbled lowly, trying to silently will everyone away from the room.
Maybe Michael should have been worried, or scared, or offended by Raffaele’s words. Instead, however, he actually seemed to relax a little, although he did not remove his eyes from the man. “Finally,” he mumbled. “You’ve been more serious than me or any of the doctors, and you’re not even the one with the, y’know,” he said as he vaguely gestured at this neck. “It's good to see you’ve got more than two emotions.” His words were sarcastic, but it was true. The whole time they’ve been interacting this man only seemed deadly serious or excited. Neither was exactly helpful as Michael tried to dig through fuzzy memories. He just sighed inwardly when the man in front of him claimed he was just a concerned citizen. He believed there had to be something the guy wasn’t sharing with him.
Michael shrugged slightly, trying his best not to disrupt his neck too much. There was a soft smile on his lips as well. “Maybe I am,” he responded. “You want the information, right? Well, I don’t want to be here.” Potentially he might be able to get one of his friends to come get him, but they would insist he stay. That was the last thing Michael wanted. For the first time all night, Michael actually felt relieved when the man agreed. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little impatient as he waited for him to return. He didn’t want any nurses coming in and trying to hook him back up to machines and tubes. He kept his eyes fixated on the door as he waited for him to return.
Michael didn’t ask any questions or argue with the guy in front of him this time. “Right,” was all he had to say at the instructions he was given. He waited until the door was shut to stand up. He wanted to move quickly, but unfortunately that was no easy task. Despite biting it back and ignoring it, the pain radiating from his neck grew and begged to be noticed. Logically he should stay here so his pain could be managed, but even still he forced himself to the wheelchair to change into the clothes brought in for him. Getting out of the hospital gown was easy. Getting into the clothes, however, wasn’t as easy. Each different way he moved his arms forced a sharp pain through his neck. He made the mistake of allowing himself to wince once, which somehow made the pain even worse. “Focus,” he muttered to himself as he forced the clothes onto his body. He went over to the cabinets in the room as well, looking through them until he found some patches and gauze, and stuffed those into the pockets of the clothes he now wore. He knew he’d need to change the dressing on his neck sooner or later. He left his bloodied clothes in the bags on the chair. He no longer needed them. He did, however, grab his wallet and his phone. He made one last detour into the bathroom to finally get a look at himself for the first time since the incident. He frowned at his reflection. He splashed a little water on his face and attempted to tame his hair a bit. He might’ve looked a little better.
Michael sighed heavily, went to the door, and opened it slowly. “Alright,” Michael said. “Let’s get out of here.” The sooner the better. Luckily it was winter, which meant in the pile of clothes brought to him had been a scarf. Michael had secured that around his neck, trying to hide the wound and its bandaging. He wanted to draw as little attention to himself as possible. “I look absolutely ridiculous,” he muttered. The clothes were all about two sizes too big for him, which meant he was spending most of his time holding up his pants so they didn’t fall to his ankles. He knew they would have to make do, but it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
Thankfully, no others were interested in coming towards the room he was currently guarding which made things at least a little more easy as of now. He felt the door finally open from behind and turned. Raffaele couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at Michael's appearance, glancing at him from head to toe. "Yes, yes you do. At least they weren't women's clothing. Unless of course you're into that sort of thing. I don't judge, but I would imagine we would still get some interesting looks." He went back into the room and pushed out the wheelchair with a motion for him to sit. "You won't look as ridiculous seated and we need to move fast. You're not exactly winning any marathons soon or even speed walking races." Raffaele only waited a moment before pushing the wheelchair into the back of Michael's legs to force him backwards and down into the seat. "Good. Shall we?"
Getting through the hallways was easy enough. No one really paid them any mind which made their little escape continue without a hitch. Hospital emergency rooms were like that. The staff couldn't be bothered with every little thing going on when usually they had more important chaos to deal with. The large automatic doors to the entrance moved open and a gust of the cold air from outside swirled around them, but with it came two detectives, obvious in their cheap suits and exhausted faces. He knew they were the ones that had been working on the case. He'd seen them talking to reporters on the news once the media had gotten word that this was looking like a serial killer. Not that they would find anything which could ever lead them to the actual truth of what it was they were looking for. The one good thing they could do was use whatever evidence they did find on the victims that might lead them to a suspect if he happened to be a repeat criminal that was arrested previously. From how Michael described him, Raffaele highly doubted it.
The detectives walked right by them without a passing glance. It wouldn't be long now before the hospital realized Michael was missing, so he quickened his steps and went around to the front of the hospital where a few cabs were waiting. "Afraid your chariot ride ends here." Raff pulled the door open for Michael and slid in beside him. The driver looked expectantly at them from the rearview mirror. "We can't go back to your place. They'll be sending cops their once they realize you're gone," he said, more thinking out loud to himself then really talking to Michael. The sanguine sighed in annoyance. He really, really, really didn't want to bring his newest intel back home with him. "56th street, please."
Once pulling up to the old brick apartment building which was connected to all the others that lined the street like most of the city, Raff climbed out and paid the driver, looking up and down the deserted road. It was hard to tell from all the cars parked along the curb, but none appeared to be any detectives. It was the bitch of parking in a overpopulated city, but also a major tell to him that they were still in the clear. He wasn't exactly expecting anyone to know his involvement, but you could never be too careful. Entering the building, they took the elevator up which was converted from an old lift like many of these renovated factories, before reaching the top. His loft was two floors and simply decorated as this wasn't his permanent residence. Several things were still not hung and a few boxes unpacked, even though he'd had the property for years. There were modern touches throughout, though some of the pieces inside appeared to be very old and rather out of place. They were the kind of things you would expect in a museum or knew you really shouldn't touch for fear of breaking it. "Make yourself at home," he said with an exaggerated gesture while pointing towards the couch. "I don't really have anything to offer food wise. I hope water is okay and sorry for the mess. Wasn't exactly expecting company. We can order something if you like. There's a 24 hour deli on the corner."
Michael rolled his eyes at the man's response. "Women's clothes have looked less ridiculous than this get up," he grumbled under his breath. He was thankful for the help, but that didn't mean it was necessarily going the way he would have hoped it would. He was about to protest the wheelchair. He could walk. He was able. Of course, if he disabled, it would be different. He would use it. But he wasn't. Just injured. Still, he didn't get time to make any of those complaints because the man was shoving the wheelchair at him and pushing him out into the halls. Michael wanted to turn around and say some choice words in his mind, but he had enough wits about him to know that kind of movement would feel horrible on his neck. He settled for mumbling to himself, "you're really quite abrasive, huh?" The pain was starting to radiate outwards from the wound, but he was still doing his best to ignore it. It was growing to be more difficult. He understood as they made their way into the cold, crisp air to not draw any extra attention to himself. Technically it wasn't illegal to leave the hospital. He understood, however, that by not talking to the detectives it could be an obstruction of justice. Just staying in the hospital for another few minutes felt impossible though.
Michael happily ditched the wheelchair when brought to a cab. Truthfully, he didn't know what the plan was from here. Go somewhere, disclose the promised information, and head home? He didn't have to wonder long as Rafael spoke his thoughts out loud. A frown crossed Michaels features. He didn't protest this though, because he knew the man was right. Even if he really did crave the comfort of his bed. "56th, huh? Fancy," he mused. It was quite a drive from where he lived. He let his fingers dip into the pocket of the oversized pants he wore, tracing the outline of his phone. He was incredibly torn between contacting his friends and leaving them out of this. Eventually he'd have to go to the detectives, right? Getting them involved could led to trouble. He removed his hand from his phone.
Michael was pretty silent the rest of the drive. "So how'd we get to the hospital, anyway?" he asked as he followed the guy out of the cab, into the building, up the elevator, and into his apartment. Michael assumed the guy drive him, but that clearly wasn't it.
Michael was, by nature, a curious person, which meant he couldn't help but look around as they entered the apartment. The first thing he noticed was how massive it was for a place in the city. The next thing was there seemed to be some really interesting pieces strown about. He couldn't help inspecting them. He didn't touch anything. He know how to be a decent guest. That didn't stop him from looking though. "What is it you said you do? Like... professionally?" he asked as he looked at something that look particularly old. Older than anything he'd ever seen. Of course, after just a moment of looking at things he wasn't sure he could truly identify, he realized the apartment looked unlived in. Boxes here and there, some still taped shut. Despite the interesting artifacts, it didn't seem to be personalized. "Did you just move here?"
Michael did end up taking a seat on the couch in what appeared to be the main living space. He waved away the guys excuses. "Waters more than fine." He wasn't going to be picky. "I'm sure the Deli is fine too." He dug into the pocket opposite of the one that held the phone, fishing out his wallet. He looked inside. Nothing was missing from it, which still didn't make much sense. Still, he had cash so he should be good to cover himself for now. "So," he sighed. He was still taking in the space around him. "Let's cut to the chase, yeah? What do you want to know?" Michael was still piecing it all together bit by bit. Everytime he felt close to having the night's events pinned down, he recalled something else that didn't make sense. That didn't fit.
Raffaele would've really liked to open the fridge and grab one of the blood packs out of there right about then, but seeing as there was a human who was unaware of the monsters that roamed the world currently sitting on his couch, his hunger would have to wait. If the sanguine could help it, he would try and keep Michael away from all of it. It never really did any human good to know what was out there. Not to mention the sheer panic and chaos it would cause among the population. He'd seen it plenty of times when the world was hundreds and hundreds of years younger. Thankfully, humans were far from believing in things like him existing in the world. Their folktales and legends were all fantasy in the minds of people now which made things much more easy for creatures like him to exist. The last thing he wanted was another war to break out. Desperation was never a good look for the supernatural or humanity.
The sanguine heard the questions coming his way which he wasn't surprised to hear given the state of the loft and the things he kept. It certainly wasn't the normal living space. "I don't really work," was all he said in response to the inquiry and it was true. At least in the context of the normal nine to five. It's not like he ever really had to work anymore, but staying cooped up in France wasn't exactly the best way to live his immortal life. Raffaele found it only made him more into the monstrous sanguine some of his brethren could be from the isolation. His bounty hunting days were in the past for the most part and now he traveled trying to find any rogue newborns causing trouble for all of the sanguine population. "But I've had the place for years. This isn't my permanent residence. It's one of the few properties I own when I'm traveling."
He opened the overhead cabinet and pulled out a glass, turning on the tap from the sink. "I can call in an order if you want at some point, though I can imagine if eating might be last on the list right now." After handing the cup to Michael, he sat across from him on the low profile, square wooden table that could probably hold the weight of an elephant some feet away. There were clear nicks in the sturdy wood that ran along the exposed metal borders bolted into the table where Raffaele had sunk a dagger into over and over again as he paced in front of the piece when he was deep in thought. Somehow it added even more character to it despite its unintentional defacing. Though the entire place had a very industrial feel, it still had its charms about it.
"Everything," he replied to Michael with a slight shrug. "Any little detail. It doesn't matter if it sounds outrageous. Now that you've had some time to get the meds out and process a little, maybe something new will come up. Then, tell me everything you know about the guy you said it could be from the library. If you guys ever talked. If you saw him at the bar before. Anything."
Michael raised an eyebrow at what Rafael had to say, but didn't comment. He didn't understand how he afforded this place, let alone several, if he didn't work. If those places were also in cities, or as half as nice as this, they had to cost a fortune. "So you travel a lot?" he asked, continuing to take in the place. It was interesting how modern some of it was while the place also had artifacts that looked older than anything he had ever laid eyes on. "So why'd you come back here now?" Admittedly, Michael was lucky he was around these parts right now. Otherwise he probably wouldn't be alive.
Michael left out a soft sigh. "Yeah, maybe later," he said to the offer of food. So much had happened that he was not truly hungry, though he'd need to eat eventually. "If you're hungry, though, don't let me stop you. I mean, I'm kinda intruding so, you know, don't be uncomfortable for my sake." Michael wasn't really one for pleasantries. They were in his house so he should be able to be comfortable. Michael didn't make any comment of the marked up table. He didn't think he would be able to make sense of anything in this place.
Instead, Michael tried to get comfortable as well. He tucked one of his legs under himself and took a sip of the water before shrugging a little. "Honestly, I don't know a ton about him. I'm still not even sure it's him." Michael was chewing on his bottom lip for a second, thinking. Stalling. "But," he finally started, "it looked a lot like Marcus. It isn't like I'm best friends with him. I know him, but I don't have much to tell," he admitted. He had told him back at the hospital he didn't have lots of information. "He's usually at the library a few blocks from my place. I can't tell you where he lives or if he lives with someone, but I guess I'd imagine he lives near by. There's other libraries in the city, so there's no reason to frequent that one unless it's convenient." He took another sip of his water, clearing his throat and suppressing a wince. "He's just...nice. We've talked a few times. About books. Nothing serious." Michael couldn't imagine Rafael wanted details about what they spoke about. It was mostly boring. "He always seemed kinda lonely," he admitted. "I invited him to the bar once with me and my friends a few weeks ago. He never showed though. I kind of just figured he isn't a people person." Michael had invited him mostly to be nice. Plus, he did like Marcus for as much as he knew him. "Um, I think he's kinda tall? Taller than me. Brown hair. Brown eyes. About my age. I dunno, he's not exactly sticking out in a crowd," Michael admitted. He felt bad just talking about him like this, but it was part of the deal, and Michael was a man of his word.
"As for tonight," he sighed, "I dunno, man. I feel like I remember it, but it's still not really...adding up." The things he remembered couldn't have happened, right? "I met my friends at the bar. We were there for a few hours. They left. I stayed for awhile. No one out of the ordinary was there, except for you. I left, was about to get into my cab, but then I heard something? Someone? I thought I heard someone calling out for help from the alley, but I'm not so sure right now," he admitted. "But that's what I thought. So I went to check. And then...I didn't see where he came from. I guess from behind? I was a little buzzed, so maybe I just didn't see him." He could recall the events now, but he was still limited to his perspective. "And then I was pinned to the wall, and I thought I was being jumped, so I offered my phone and wallet and...how did this happen?" he asked, motioning to his neck. "I remember you pulled him off me but...what did he do? I don't remember a knife or anything." What he recalled didn't make sense. He didn't want to sound crazy. Maybe it was just the trauma of everything. His brain was acting up. He was trying not to think about the injury until now. Without the pain meds he was in considerable pain. The wound burned and stung and prickled. It took him effort to push the pain away and even attempt to ignore it. He didn't want to complain though. He knew this was the cost of leaving the hospital when he made his choice.
"What can I say, I like the city," Raffaele replied to his question on his being here now. "I also have a few friends here that I haven't seen in a while and wanted to catch up." Not entirely the truth. Sure, he knew people here. One of them being a fairly old sanguine that had been around since the 1700s, but they weren't exactly besties. He had helped her through the trying time of becoming one of their kind when she was turned by another rogue sanguine who was out of control. There were two other humans who he'd had to save when they were captured by this sanguine, but this had been hundreds of years ago and they were both long dead. Seeing the one that had been turned into a what he was wasn't at the top of his list and the real reason of his return. He was there for the new rogue. Raffaele wasn't exactly a people person or socially inclined to reach out to others he knew, even if they were fellow sanguine.
Raffaele studied Michael. Listening to everything he said, it seemed the meds weren't affecting him so greatly that he would remember something new. The story remained the same. There was little to go on, but he was at least given a heading now. A very thin heading. He'd take anything if it meant getting on some trail to finding the rogue before more bodies began piling up. It would only be a matter of time when the next one would drop seeing as this newborn probably didn't have any guidance given its behavior. He had to hope Michael wasn't just some unlucky victim of wrong place and wrong time because if the two were complete strangers, it would make locating the newborn even more difficult.
He watched the confusion return to the human's face. Trying to make sense of the crazy that had befallen him. Still, Raffaele didn't want to give him the truth. Not if he could help it. It's not like it was necessarily a truth one could really grasp onto to make everything right again. He didn't expect Michael would believe him and losing his best witness and lead wasn't the best move. "Desperate people do desperate things," Raffaele spoke, sitting forward and leaning on his knees. "The bar is an easy place to find a mark, especially one who leaves alone and appears to have had a few. Might've been an addict given the erratic attack and violence. Even if it was in the alleyway, it's still a pretty populated area to do something like that so brazenly. "
Even though he wasn't saying it, Raffaele could see the careful and thoughtful movements or lack there of as Michael remained still to avoid causing any pain. The sanguine stood and headed towards the bathroom where he pulled out a bottle of over the counter pain meds from the cabinet. He shook it and felt the pills rattle around in there. Coming back out, he offered it to Michael before sitting back down on the table. They weren't ever meant for use by Raffaele of course, as they would do him no good, but he'd kept them just in case for any human visitors.
"What about the other victims? I know you said you weren't paying too much attention to the news, but do you recognize any of them?" Raffaele took out his phone and pulled up some of the latest articles that had to do with the recent killings. The names and pictures of the victims had been listed in one of them when the police and media realized this was starting to look like a serial killer. "Do you recognize any of them from the library or bar?"
Michael really was trying to tell the guy everything he knew. It just wasn't much. As he had explained, he had spoken to the guy here and there. They weren't best friends, but they weren't strangers either. They were typically friendly. "I have his number. I can try giving him a call?" he offered. Michael still wasn't sold it was this man he knew, even if it looked a whole lot like him. He sat back a little, trying to relax in this unfamiliar place. Micheal absent mindedly chewed on his bottom lip as the man across from him got up and left the room without a word. The gears were moving in his head. He was stuck on what Rafael had said. Desperate people do desperate things. That was stuck replaying in his head when Rafael came back with some pills in hand.
"Not trying to drug me, are you?" Michael joked, but took the pills with a drink from his water anyway. Frankly, even if it was a dangerous move, it didn't matter. He was still injured. Still in pain. Although he liked to act tough and fine, he really wasn't in any condition to do much of anything. If this Rafael guy turned out to be no good, there was nothing he could do about. At least this way he'd have less pain. He shrugged smally but leaned over to look at the photos on his phone. He frowned. "Yeah. I knew her. Kind of," he said at one of the photos of a girl with dark curly hair. She worse a blouse and horn-rimmed glasses in the picture. "We worked together. I mean, not together together. Different departments. Not even on the same floor. I guess it's been awhile since I saw her..." He hadn't even noticed. How didn't he know? How didn't the company say anything? "I think I've seen him at the bar before too," he said about another picture. It wasn't like he went around talking to everyone. He kept with his friends mostly. He did pay attention to his surroundings though. His round face, light eyes, and dusty colored hair was familiar.
"What you said earlier, it got me thinking. Maybe I should have said something before. I just wasn't thinking about it I guess. If it really is him...I know he's been going through some stuff lately. Someone in his family died a few weeks back. A cousin or aunt or something. " Surely the loss of family was enough to make a person do some irrational things, but this? That seemed a bit much. "Your promise about not being a cop better not have been a lie," he hesitated for just a second. "He was really down. Like, really down. You could tell just by being near him. I sold him some weed for cheap. It's a side hustle. Life in the city is expensive, and it should be legal by now," he defended himself. "Anyway, I don't think he was into the hard stuff or anything. I don't know. I don't touch any of that. He bought weed from me a few times after that. He seemed better. I thought maybe it was helping. But...maybe not?" If seemed unlikely that was the cause, but if did appear to be a change in character in the guy. Maybe that was something.
Raffaele folded his arms over his chest and took in the new information about the man that was looking like a possible suspect. Hearing that someone died got him thinking that maybe the person wasn't actually dead, but more like undead. If this person was the newborn and they were close with the family member, perhaps another sire came from this all. It was so close in timing. A newborn changing someone is practically unheard of. They would have no idea what they were doing and to stop feeding before the person was dead, knowing that exact moment when one had to stop, was not as easy as it sounded. Unless, it was someone else who had turned them both. It was a theory. One he wasn't too keen on hoping was true.
"I can't imagine someone being that desperate in grief that they would start attacking people, especially the one supplying the escape method away from said grief. Still, if he was this down as you say, he might've been visiting the bar more often. I gotta say, it's a little weird that you seem to know one of the victims. Did she go to the library too?" It's sounding like there was some connection here. Oddly, it somehow was looking like it completely revolved around Michael now. He knew two people who were possibly involved, one definitely, and now he himself was a victim. Raffaele didn't want to worry the human, but there was definitely something linking them all together.
"Maybe that's where the person is looking for targets. A place you all go that's common. The library. The bar." Raffaele folded his arms against his chest and looked off as he tried to sort his thoughts. "Might have to pay Sally another visit tomorrow night then," he said softly, more to himself. He looked over to Michael then for a quiet moment. "You should probably get some more rest. You can crash on the couch or take the bed if you like."
Michael really didn't know what to make of any of it. He wasn't a detective or a cop or anything like that. He knew he wasn't qualified to figure this out, and he wasnt so sure if Rafael was either. He still felt like he knew next to nothing about the guy. Still, Michael was a man of his word. He promised he'd say all he knew for an escape from the hospital. At least the pain meds he was given were helping to some degree. It was becoming tolerable once more.
"Maybe not, but...what would drive someone start attacking people? You said it yourself, this isn't a one time thing. Someone is probably doing it on purpose. I can't think of any reason someone would act like that," he claimed. He could almost understand if it was a one off thing. Someone with a nasty temper or lost it, or someone who was intoxicated or high, or someone who just had a mental break. All of those people might have a moment where they just lose it. But this many times? To this many people? It was a hard idea to grasp.
Michael sighed and tried to remember. He liked the woman who lost her life. She was kind and they were friendly enough to say hello in passing. Much like the man they had been discussing, however, it wasn't like they were close. "I dunno," he said honestly. "I mean, it's possible. The library isn't too far from work. It's why I go to that one. It's possible maybe she goes there too. I know that isn't really a lot of information to go off of. The city is big, but people tend to frequent places closer to home and work, right? I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to check if she ever checked a book out from there?" he offered. If she had then she went there. Michael felt confident if he asked the Liberians there they would tell him.
Michael raised an eyebrow. "You mentioned you came to the city to visit some people. Is Sally one of those people?" he asked. Sally was kind enough. Not that he knew her outside of the bar either. Michael knew Rafael was right about needing sleep. He'd been up for hours upon hours. The adrenaline of the day had worn off. He was tired. Michael risked the movement and shook his head. If hurt, but he was able to get through it. "I'll just sleep out here on the couch. That's more than fine." He wouldn't feel comfortable taking his bed. "Do you have a blanket or something I could borrow?" If he didn't Michael would make it work. He truly didn't want to be more of an inconvenience than he already was.
It wasn't like Raffaele could tell the human the truth. 'Oh, yeah, this is just normal when there's a newborn on the loose with no guidance and a thirst that drives them to madness and murder.' He supposed he could always go with the psychotic serial killer theory. Sometimes humans were more vicious than his own kind. At least most sanguine did it for survival nowadays while these killers did it for something much more sinister like the thrill alone. That conversation had come up quite a few times when sanguine had considered trying to take over so many hundreds of years ago; Their dangerous thinking of superiority. Well, they had been sorely wrong and the humans were much more resilient, smarter, and tougher than his kind gave them credit for. It was as if they forgot who they were when they were once humans themselves.
"Sally? Yes, we've known each other for quite some time. Old friends, you could say." Vague as always. Once upon a time, Sally had been a normal functioning human herself. She was a mother of three children and doting wife to her lord of a husband. Unfortunately that didn't matter to the sanguine nest that were out hunting one night and lured her and her husband into an abandoned shipyard when the couple had been out after going to the theatre. The monsters were not kind to say the least and ravaged them both, but thought Sally too pretty to kill in the end and instead, attempted to turn her despite the odds. The fighter that she was, Sally made it passed the pain and changes of her body and soul and became a creature just like them. They watched as she killed her husband after refusing to help her feed. Months with them was nothing but oceans of blood until coming upon Raffaele who offered a chance of something different from the senseless violence.
That was long ago...
Raffaele got up from the table and went into a couple of closets before finding some bedding, further proving that the man spent no time in this place. He took a few of the goose feather blankets and pillows out and came back to offer them to his guest. Nodding to the fireplace, he picked up a small remote and placed it on the floor near the couch. "If you get cold, you can turn that on. It warms the whole place up." Not that he himself would ever need it for anything other than the aesthetics of it. The sanguine had spent a few nights gazing at the flames in the dark, letting the only light inside come from the moonlight. "If you need anything to eat, feel free to come and get me. Like I said, that corner spot is always open. My bedroom is the third door down on the right," he said, pointing to the hallway. "If you're feeling up to it, we'll check out the library tomorrow after something to eat."
Michael sighed but didn't press further. He was growing to learn that Raffaele rarely would give him really answers. He seemed to always be vague, answering just enough to not be ignoring him without truly giving Michael the answers he was looking for. He leaned back in his seat. Maybe at a different time he'd push for more answers, but he was truly growing tired. "Sounds like you've got friends everywhere," he left it at. He didn't know how someone managed to travel as much as this guy seemed to. It didn't really matter though. Michael had been through quite a bit in the past several hours without a moment of real rest or sleep. The adrenaline was completely gone. Even wanting answers wasn't enough of a reason for his body to keep going. He yawned, covering his mouth with his left hand in the process.
"Thanks," he murmured softly as he took the pillows and blanket from the man. He set the pillows down near one arm of the couch. He gave a nod when told about the fire place. "Alright. I'm sure I'll be fine." Despite being a naturally curious person, Michael really didn't like to inconvenience someone, which meant unless he was truly freezing, he probably wouldn't touch the fireplace. It didn't look heavily used. There wasn't much soot or ashes surrounding the opening or lining the inside. As a result, Michael assumed he must use it. Maybe Raffaele liked the cold. "Sounds good," he responded, settling into the couch. It was still dark out now, but they realistically only had a few hours until the sunrise. "And, uh, thanks. I'm aware I can be a lot, um, but I appreciate everything," he added as he pulled the blanket up close over his body. He knew the thank you wasn't enough, but he was too tired to come up with much else. Still, the guy had saved his life. And got him out of the hospital. That was no small feat. He couldn't be more thankful. He reached for his phone, finally having the nerve to message his friends. He didn't meantion the attack. He didn't meantion he wasn't home or where he was. He sent them a simple group message stating he wouldn't make their plans that following afternoon but they should continue without him. Then he finally let himself lay down.
Michael fell asleep almost as soon as his head met the pillow. He'd been tired, but the true exhaustion of the day hadn't hit until he layed down. He had thought he would struggle to sleep in a stranger's home, but his body didn't seem to care. His dreams were wild and nonsensical to him. The events of the night had easily seeped into his dream landscape, each time changing just a little. Each time it made less and less sense. His attacker morphing from someone he almost considered a friend to something only seen in fairy tales. A new birdseye view of what happened over the last evening playing out differently each time. His attacker changing. The man who saved him changing. He had tossed and turned on the couch, mumbling nonsensically in his sleep. He didn't wake, however, until the time where no one came and saved him. He woke with a start, a soft gasp leaving his lips. He sat up quickly, too quickly he realized as splotches of grey clouded his vision for a moment. He took in his surroundings. The sun was out now, bringing light into the previously dark apartment. Despite the light he couldn't determine the time or how long he'd been out. He rubbed his eyes, forcing the sleep out of them.
Raffaele nodded in response to his gratitude, giving a quick smile and then made his way down the hall and to his room. Just like the rest of the place, it was a room that didn't seem to have a lot of personal belongings. The closet probably told the most about him as it was filled with a lot of clothing he'd forgotten about. He'd only left them all here in case there was a reason for him to stay in the city for some time. The current situation was definitely one of those reasons. His eyes turned away from the open walk-in to the dresser which had his passport, comb, and not much else. The wood of the dresser was ornate and deserved more attention than being here in this room that he rarely came to where it was mostly just his eyes that admired it. His fingers glided over the top of it before he saw his reflection in the standing mirror. The reflection looked tired. He hadn't had much in the way of sleep since the killings and the circling under his eyes indicated he was do for a drink.
It would have to wait though. Hopefully Michael would be asleep soon and he could move about the apartment more easily without the eyes of the human on him. For now, he slightly pushed back one of the heavy curtains and peered outside. He glanced up and down the street, but saw no immediate signs of any police presence or that of a newborn who may still have it out for Michael. Of course that didn't mean the other sanguine wasn't out there. Newborns could be reckless, but it would sense what Raffaele was as well and the inherent danger it could be in should it try and stand against him. Raffaele just wanted to get to the newborn before anything worse could happen though he very much doubted that no more bodies would end up being found, especially after the interrupted meal that would've been Michael.
He waited some time and then let himself concentrate on the beating of the heart that was down the hall. Its rhythm was even and slowed and he knew Michael had fallen asleep. Raffaele quietly left the room and walked about the space without making a sound. It was hard to shut off the sound of the human's blood pumping so invitingly once he'd tapped into its steady song, but the sanguine ignored the burning that started in his throat and went to the refrigerator. It took a lot for him to not hungrily rip the blood packs open, but he managed to control himself enough and the beating of Michael's heart became more quieted.
Attempting to sleep now would be pointless given his kind, so he didn't even attempt to. Instead, he kept his mind on all the facts of what he knew and what new information Michael had provided. He lay on the bed with his back against the headboard and eyes closed to let his thoughts wander as the hours passed. He only knew it must be close to morning when he heard movement coming from down the hall which was Michael rising from his sleep. The beating of his heart had quickened once awake. Raffaele moved from his darkened room and back out to the large living space. Perhaps it was a bad dream as he seemed to be okay if only a bit sleepy from just rising. A bad dream? "Good morning," he greeted and went to move one of the draping curtains aside to let more light in, being sure to avoid it as much as he could. "You alright? At least as alright as can be? I have more painkillers if you need and I'm sure some food might help. You must be hungry."