Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The silence of a convenience store was never truly silent. Even without the people, music played lightly over old speakers, neon signs buzzed overhead, and the freezer full of ice next to the door hummed a monotonous tone. It was eerie. Given that it was three in the morning, though, you figured it was better than dead silence. The new LED lights they'd just started installing everywhere were bright on your eyes as you entered, but you adjusted as the doors closed behind you.

Beneath your hands, the cart that you'd snagged on the way in shuddered violently after a few moments of moving. The front wheel spun and squeaked—It hadn't done that outside, but on the linoleum seemed to be a different story.

You could put up with the periodic squeaking, though. It wasn't like there was anyone else around to bother.

You had come to the store with one goal in mind: Restock your fridge and pantry. Thanks to your uninvited house guest from a few nights ago, you'd gone through the dredges of your groceries a little faster than you'd intended. Truth be told, you'd been running low well before that—You had only had fruit and cheese to offer him, you recalled. After living off boxed food for a few days, here you were—In need of a late-night refresh.

Not that it particularly needed to be late-night. But you were up anyways. Grocery shopping at this hour was like an optimistic attempt at tiring yourself out. Plus, grocery prices were so high, lately—You really didn't want to be fully awake to think about that.

As you walked past the pharmacy, you took a moment to study a small selection of melatonin gummies. Could they be worth it? Something about that whole break-in had been making it hard for you to sleep lately. It was keeping you up to the late hours of the night, straining your ear for any out-of-place sounds. Once that odd man had left, it had fully hit—The absurdity of your situation. How terrifying it was that some guy broke into your house. How ridiculous it was that you simply fed him dinner.

How lucky you were to be alive, if that slime demonstration he gave you was anything to go by. A number of your dreams—Nightmares, really—had included various depictions of what might have happened if that apple you'd given him was your hand. With a shudder, you decided against the melatonin, and pushed your rickety cart onwards.

The cherry on top of all the lingering horror was that he knew where you lived. He could decide to pop back in and demand to be fed again at any time. Or even take more... Drastic measures. It wasn't like you really had the means to move away on a whim, and you had a feeling that changing the locks would just be a waste of time...

Actually, now that you were thinking about it, it wasn't weird to be feeling off lately. And that was comforting for a moment, but it didn't quite help the overall feeling. If anything, thinking about it more made it worse. Exactly none of these thoughts were terribly helpful for sleeping, or staying calm in a store.

With a long sigh, you scrubbed at your face, trying to force your attention elsewhere. You were on a mission—You didn't need to think about him. You just needed to find food. One step at a time.

Starting with some deli. Easy sandwich fixings—With how little sleep you'd gotten, you needed something simple.

As you turned your cart and rounded the corner, you froze dead in your tracks. A familiar grey trenchcoat hung off of the frame of the tall man in front of you, a coil of black hair curling out from beneath the hood. The anxiety that you'd been trying to ignore settled to a deep dread in the base of your lungs.

... This was just unfair.

Gavril didn't look like he cared about the cart's noise, or your presence, enraptured as he appeared to be with selecting a cheese from the display in front of him.

Maybe he'd stay that way. This was a public place, after all. Maybe that would deter him from anything odd...? You needed to get past him to get to the rest of the store. With a deep breath, you nudged your rickety cart along, and attempted to scoot past him.

Keyword: Attempt. Something shifted in your lower peripheral—And your cart's wheel suddenly jammed, stopping you directly next to him.

Trying to push the cart didn't work—And it was stuck fast when you tried to lift the wheel to keep going. Adrenaline rose in your veins as you quickly let go of the cart, backing up a bit.

You had a sinking feeling you knew why the cart was stuck.

"Hello, stranger. Having trouble, there?" He purred—But instead of turning to look at him, you glanced down at the floor. Hiding in the shadows of the cart, you could just make out a thin trail of ooze connected to the shadows underneath Gavril's trench coat. A slow panic rose in your chest as the sludge crept closer.

"Don't do that," you managed through the tightness in your throat, glancing between him and his goop. There was a slight jolt at the shoulders of the trench coat. He glanced over his shoulder, curious eyes peering out at you from beneath the hood.

They widened in recognition—And squinted again as his grin turned sharp.

"Ah! Now, why didn't you say something? You're no stranger," He spoke smoothly as he turned around fully. In one hand, he was fidgeting with a large wedge of cheese. The other came up to pull his hood down. If it weren't for the trenchcoat and the sludge that you could still see hiding in the shadows, he could have looked almost innocent.

The darkness creeping across the floor receded—But you still didn't quite feel safe.

"You could even say hello right now, in fact," He prompted, and you glanced up from the ground.

Gavril had shifted to lean against your cart, keeping it stopped where it was—Despite the goo being removed, it would seem that he wasn't letting you rush off just yet.

He was staring at you, silently. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, giving a slight nod. With a start, you realized he was waiting for your reply. Ah. "Uh... Hi, Gavril."

That crooked grin widened. "Oh, you even remembered my name. I'm honored! Now... What are you doing here? It's late, y'know."

You raised an eyebrow slightly. "Of course I remember you. You certainly left an impression. I'm... Just grocery shopping."

He was silent, as he watched you. Waiting once more. Man, he was a little creepy when he just stared... You cleared your throat, and nodded towards the display. "... I need some cheese, to start."

Gavril's intense stare morphed into a gentler smile. "Don't we all?" He replied, pushing himself off of the cart and turning back to appraise the cheese section. "Can't go wrong with a good cheese. Really, I'm having trouble picking myself..."

Duly noted. Should you pick up extra, as a bargaining chip in case he ever decided to break in again? Or pick up less, so he wouldn't be quite so inclined to come back?

All this worrying hurt your head. Tonight—Just for tonight, all you needed was something sliced.

He'd stopped leaning on your cart, so you began to push it once more, heading away from the gourmet and towards the more mundane cheeses.

... In between cart rattles, you noticed that there were footsteps behind you. A glance revealed that he was keeping pace, walking by your side with one hand in his pockets.

Gavril only grinned back when he noticed your look. His movements were totally relaxed, like he didn't have a care in the world. With a sigh, you simply endeavored to just get through it as quickly as possible. Catching him looking at you whenever you glanced over was odd, but you could deal with it.

At least he wasn't threatening to kill you.

He was holding a cheese wheel in his free hand as he walked. Was he planning on getting it...? You snagged a more reasonably-priced package of sliced cheese, and moved on to the lunch meats. A crinkle of plastic from behind you had you glancing back once more in confusion.

That black substance had made a reappearance on Gavril's hands, and appeared to be currently... Eating? Absorbing? Doing something to get rid of the wrappings on the cheese wheel.

... No, yeah, that tracked. Theft seemed a rather petty crime for him. Especially when you considered what he'd hinted he was okay with when he broke in. The gaze he fixed you with still made you feel like prey in this situation—And it wouldn't do to poke the bear. Without a word, you turned to head towards the rest of the store.

The cheese in his hands slowly dwindled as your grocery pile grew larger. Over by the canned soup, you saw a hand reach into the corner of your vision—You flinched back, staring at Gavril as he picked up a can with his free hand. He wasn't reaching for you, at least. Of all the things running through your head, your momentary panic settling... You noticed Gavril's nails. They were painted black.

"Do you ever pick up beans?" He asked as he appraised the label, turning it around in his hands slowly. You blinked as the lettering rotated towards you, and showed he was looking at chickpeas.

"... I don't know. Sometimes, I guess? Why?" You replied warily, reaching out for the soup you'd been going for.

Gavril shrugged as he tossed the can into the air. "Cooked beans are a good snack for rats."

Ah. Right. He had rat friends. You turned to push the cart down the aisle, his long strides putting him back to your side. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his stare. Waiting. With a sigh, you shrugged. "I guess when I'm making chili, I get beans."

He grinned, and faced front again. "Fair enough. Do you make chili often?"

"When I have the time. It keeps pretty well in the fridge," You replied, looking up at the aisle labels to find your next groceries.

... It was a strangely normal conversation. If you hadn't already experienced some of Gavril's odder aspects, you might even be comfortable right now. It was kind of hard to completely relax around a criminal who occasionally alluded to having a body count, though.

He took another bite of cheese as you stopped to survey the snacks, his eyes darting through the options. You squinted at the cheese in his hands, trying to figure out why it looked so out of place—Until you realized that he was just blatantly taking bites out of it, in the middle of the aisle.

"So... Why're you eating that?" You inquired. He met your eyes for a moment, and tilted his head. When he didn't reply immediately, you turned back to the shelf of snacks in front of you. "I mean, in terms of... Putting it in your mouth. When I gave you fruit, you just... Absorbed that. And, given that you've gotten rid of the price tag on that..." You paused to nod towards what was left of the wheel. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't planning on paying for it. "The goo would probably be a little more discreet than... Taking bites out of it in the middle of a grocery store. Why risk it? What's the difference?"

Gavril gave a pause—And then a dark chuckle. "Oh, that. The goo doesn't taste," He replied. "It's quick, and it'll satisfy me just fine, but it's not quite as... Fun as tasting something is."

You chose a bag of snacks, and turned to put your selection in your cart. You didn't get far before you realized something was wrong.

Gone was the air of normalcy your interactions had shakily achieved. Gavril had gotten closer, silent as a whisper. He was standing just behind you, that smug grin on his face. Goo dribbled down the corner of his mouth, and you caught a glimpse of his unnatural tongue as he spoke.

"There are plenty of other ways to have fun with your food, though. For example—I find that the thrill of a hunt to be more than suitable to make up for a lack of taste..."

For a moment, it was as if all the air in the room had disappeared. You stared at him with wide eyes, trying to figure out what you could do.

Should you run?

Shout, and hope there was someone who could do anything?

Like a rabbit staring down a wolf, you were frozen in place.

With a snicker, Gavril stepped back and reestablished personal space. "You're too easy. C'mon, where's the fight that knocked me out the other night?" He teased, walking over to lean against your cart once more.

The air rushed back into your lungs as you blinked at him. Oh. So this was how he wanted to play. He wanted you to struggle, like a fly in a web. You narrowed your eyes and tossed your bag of snacks at him—They bounced off of his arm and into the cart as he cackled, making no move to defend himself.

"Ugh. Well, how am I supposed to know when you're messing around or not?" You grumbled as you leaned on the handles of your cart. A gentle push, and Gavril straightened up to walk beside you. "I don't know you. And it's not like I have my bat with me right now, y'know. I didn't come to the grocery store expecting to get jumped."

There was a thoughtful look on his face... Hm. Should you be worried?

"I think you should always be prepared," Gavril decided on after a long moment, before tucking the rest of the cheese into his mouth. "Never know when you'll run into someone who isn't quite as... Nice, as I am."

"Easy for you to say, with your built-in sludge defense system," You grumbled back, shoving your wobbling cart towards the checkout. "I don't want to have to be on edge all the time. Living like that seems... Awful. Safe enough, I suppose, but..." Trailing off, you reached to grab items from your cart and begin scanning them.

There was no response from Gavril—You glanced up.

... Gone. He was just—Gone. You were alone in the checkout. A quick glance behind the shelves didn't immediately reveal anything about his whereabouts.

Cool. Great. Right after you'd just gotten used to his lurking, too. That was fine. You could feel your heart sinking as you internally begged that he wasn't about to jump out from somewhere to try and scare you.

There were footsteps approaching from behind you—And you turned around to see a man in a plain shirt and beige shorts. Something about him was off, though. His shoes, the way he carried himself...

It looked like he was beelining straight for you. You busied yourself with scanning items instead of worrying. Maybe he was heading for another checkout?

"E-excuse me! Are you alright?"

Fuck. There was nobody else here—He must be trying to talk to you. You turned to glance at him, and tilted your head. "Uh... Yeah, I'm fine. Is there something I can help you with?" You carefully replied. What was this guy here for...? As you got a better look at him, you noticed his shirt looked... Odd. Like he was wearing something underneath it, maybe...?

The man looked nervous, but nodded quickly. "There was a man walking with you a moment ago—Was he harassing you? Do you know him?"

Oh. He was here for Gavril? That was... Maybe not the best of signs. And given that Gavril had disappeared just before he came over—You had a feeling they weren't friends.

For a moment, the thought came to mind of revealing the break-in. You hadn't told anyone since it happened. Nobody would believe you—The goo really shouldn't have been possible, let alone how you handled the situation. To have knocked out your intruder, tied him up instead of calling the police, and then fed him and sent him on his way? And everyone stood up and clapped, you could imagine the response being. Besides, he'd only broken a single vase—Nothing valuable enough to warrant an investigation. But... Telling some random person, right here and now? When you knew Gavril was still... Somewhere out there?

He knew where you lived. And your locks didn't stop him the first time.

"I didn't catch his name. He was just asking me a bunch of questions about what I was getting as I shopped. What's it to you?" You half-lied. Hopefully deflecting would help steer the conversation away.

The man blinked, and dug into his pocket. As he pulled out something small and dark, you noticed the doors across the store behind him automatically sliding open. A grey form darted out—And you could only assume Gavril was using you as a distraction to escape.

"Officer Bailey, at your service!" The man—A cop, brought your attention back, offering you a badge. You tried to look impressed, but honestly, you were already tired of this. First Gavril, now a run-in with the law—All you could hope for at this point would be that he'd just ask for a statement and go. "Allow me to accompany you back to your car—I have reason to believe you ran into a wanted criminal tonight."

You inspected his badge for a moment, doing your best to keep your expression under wraps. "A wanted criminal? He sure looked the part..." You mumbled, passing the badge back and turning to scan your items. It wasn't surprising, given what you'd already seen from him. "Wanted for what?"

You tried not to sound too curious—But you were itching to know. Officer Bailey shuffled off to your side. "That's classified. And besides, I wouldn't want to scare you. We've got everything under control, now that we've got an idea of where he is!"

For some reason... You doubted that. You scanned your card with a sigh, and collected up your grocery bags. Bailey followed you out the door and to your car, as he'd invited himself to do. For an early-morning trip like this, you were certainly getting interrupted an awful lot more than a normal trip. Groceries went in the trunk, and you went into the drivers seat.

The officer tapped on your windshield as you buckled up, and you obliged by rolling the window down.

"If you see him again, give emergency services a call, will you? That man is dangerous. The sooner he's behind bars, the better," Bailey instructed.

"Will do," You said out loud. Internally, though... You wondered if there was a jail cell that could even hold Gavril. His sludge had been dissolving plastic. You hadn't seen it attempt to... Dissolve? Ingest? Whatever it was that it did. You'd never seen it try metal, but you wouldn't be surprised if it could dissolve that as well. Was there even a limit to what it could do? You weren't quite sure this cop knew what he was dealing with, but you also weren't about to correct him. "Have a good night, officer."

"Drive safely," He replied, before walking away. With a sigh, you rolled up your window and reached up to adjust your rearview.

A paranoia check in your backseat revealed it to be empty. There hadn't been anything in the trunk when you'd packed up, so... Gavril was not waiting to jumpscare you in the car.

You spoke a quiet plea as you turned on the engine, for no goop in the ignition and nothing stopping the wheels. Your car was kind enough to start smoothly, and you drove out of the parking lot.

Out of sight of the building and the officer, you finally let out a shaky sigh. So much for being close to relaxing from the break-in. You were shivering in your seat as you drove.

But the trip had done one of the things it was meant to—Exhaustion had sunk deep into your bones. You felt like a zombie walking from your car, straight into getting ready for bed. All you did before giving up for the night was check to make sure your bat was within reach. You fell into an uneasy slumber, your dreams filled with sensations of a shadowy black mass, slowly creeping ever closer.

Chapter Text

You were being pulled out of your sleep by an odd sensation. Something insistent, shifting in front of your closed eyelids. For a moment, you felt the panic rise in your chest—Was something in your room? Your eyes shot open, gasping breaths nearly making you choke. Before you even registered what was in front of you, you were wincing away. The spiraling colors were the opposite of the writhing darkness you'd been dreaming about.

You raised a hand to block out the morning light from the window, groaning softly. A tree outside had been shivering in the wind, sending the light and shadows shifting across your bed. You shivered despite the warmth of the morning sun, and turned away from the branching shadows that had scared you awake.

Well. It was earlier than you'd really wanted to get up, if the brightness outside was anything to go off of. But... You didn't quite trust what awaited you if you tried going back to sleep. You might as well make the most of the extra hours awake.

After pushing yourself up to a sitting position, you rolled your shoulders and stretched out your arms, shaking off the sleep as you slowly did your best to relax. You left your gaze trail around the room.

... Last night was still bothering you. That was the first fully-coherent thought in your head. The dreams that lingered at the edges of your memory were full of twisting shadows. The cart stopped against your hands, the shelves at your back, the way the goo dragged tiny threads of itself behind it as it retreated... In all honesty, you probably hadn't stopped thinking about it all night long.

Your hand trembled as you slowly let it fall back from where it was blocking the sun. A deep breath didn't stop the motion. Well, you had a solution for that.

Living alone was lonely, from time to time, but it allowed you many freedoms—One of which was that you had no housemates to scare by carrying your bat with you through your morning routine.

It was a source of comfort. The worn rubber of the grip and the weight pulling against your hands were a reminder that you'd faced the scariest person you'd ever met with it—And survived. So on days like these, when you couldn't shake the feeling that someone tall and potentially cannibalistic was going to be waiting for you around every corner... You would bring your bat along with you.

It leaned against the door as you got dressed and accompanied you to the bathroom so you could brush your teeth. You leaned it against the corner of the counter as you reached for the toothpaste.

In your still-waking-up fumbling, you managed to bump into the bat. It clattered to the tile floor loudly—But it didn't startle you much, since you were expecting it.

You weren't expecting to continue hearing noises after, however. Something downstairs made a solid noise, making you freeze. Subsequent noises—oh god, footsteps—Spurred you to lurch for the bat on the floor and look frantically for somewhere to hide.

Before you could decide whether the shower was a "good" place to hide or not, the footsteps started up the stairs. No time to hide—Not properly, anyways. You quietly stepped out of your bathroom and around the corner to wait, winding up with your bat. Easy—You'd done this before, you could do it again.

The footsteps reached the top of the stairs, and beelined for the bathroom. With bated breath, you waited anxiously.

"... What in the hell fell up here?" A familiar voice grumbled, quiet shuffling following behind. A drawer creaked open—And your muscles tensed.

Ah. It was almost upsetting that this was becoming familiar, now.

You stepped around the corner and put one hand on your hip, the other still held fast to your bat. Gavril was already halfway under your bathroom sink and shuffling through the items you kept in storage beneath.

"Gavril. What the hell are you doing?" You asked evenly. Your home intruder jumped, and you winced slightly at the sound of him hitting his head against the bottom of the sink.

He withdrew from where he was crouched with a hand on his head and a sheepish look on his face. "Ah! Good morning," he replied cheerfully, and you adjusted your grip on the bat ever so slightly. He didn't seem to notice—Or if he did, he didn't care. "You surprised me—I heard something loud, and came up to investigate. I was worried something happened to you, you know." He pushed himself off of the ground, suddenly becoming much more intimidating as he stood to his full height in the space of the small room. His eyes trailed down to your bat, and the expression on his face lightened as things seemed to click in his head. "Did you drop that? I thought for sure I heard it in here... Did you bring the bat with you? Why?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. You had to fight to keep from answering his questions on instinct. Why were you the one getting interrogated? This was your house. You weren't going to deign him with an answer. "By 'what are you doing', I meant more 'what are you doing in my house'. Y'know, given that I came home by myself last night. And I don't recall inviting company."

Gavril's eyebrows raised, and he grinned. Grinned—The prick. "There's that bite I was missing in the store," He replied, taking a step forwards.

You matched him with a step back, and lifted your bat to your shoulder—He'd have to step out into the open hallway if he wanted to get too close to you, giving you a much better shot at taking a swing. Something about the look on your face must have convinced him, because Gavril stopped in his tracks and held his hands up. "Woah, okay—A little less bite, if you would be so kind? The cops would have found me last night if I hadn't hidden somewhere. And I recognized the area—So, I just thought I could crash on your couch for the night?"

You could feel the anxiety creeping up in your chest as you tried to keep an even expression—But that was getting harder and harder, as a lot of your fears seemed to be coming true. You'd definitely locked your door this time—You had never failed to check and double check since the initial break-in.

So... He could get into your home despite that. And he was using this as a safe space, coming back as he willed... And he really was on the run from authorities. You turned the bat in your grasp, trying to figure out how you could possibly salvage your sense of safety in your own home.

"Okay. It's been a few good hours—Can't you... Leave, now?" You asked softly, almost desperately. This was supposed to be your day off, your time to rest and recuperate before getting back to your job.

The hesitant look on Gavril's face made your stomach sink. "Well... No. If I start moving around in broad daylight, they'll catch me in no time. I mean—How many gentlemen of my stature do you see around these parts? Plus, I have to try and hide anyways, so if I look too suspicious..." He trailed off as he gestured into the air, stepping forwards again.

Instead of raising the bat off your shoulder this time, you just took a few steps back to give him room, watching him numbly. "... So you're staying for the day," You stated quietly.

Gavril perked up slightly. "I kind of have to, don't I? Wouldn't want to get caught!"

Right. And you didn't particularly want to become a statistic on his case file. You'd get another day off some other time—But you only had one life. "... Fine. Okay. Just for the day. Stay out of my room."

Gavril's eyes grew wide, and after a beat of silence, he broke out into a grin. "Can do! Whatcha got in there?"

"Nunya," You replied, before turning to head down the stairs. Footsteps followed along behind you. You'd just have to make the most of this.

"I know that one," Gavril's voice mumbled softly to himself. "Nunya business."

It would seem he got the message. You ignored his presence as you headed into the kitchen.

There was a scrape at your small kitchen table, and when you glanced over, you saw that Gavril was busy making himself comfortable in the chair that you'd previously tied him to. "What's for breakfast, then?"

You could feel a muscle in your eyebrow twitch as you opened your fridge. Of course he wanted you to feed him, too. Why wouldn't he? With a slow sigh, you appraised your options.

"... Bagel and cream cheese," you decided, reaching for the cream cheese in the fridge. Those weren't bad to make multiple of.

Your toaster oven could handle two bagels at once, if you staggered them kind of funny. With a little bit of careful arranging with your one free hand, you did just that. Behind you, you could hear the kitchen chair scrape.

A quick glance over your shoulder saw Gavril investigating a shelf of your photos and trinkets. Satisfied that he wasn't creeping up on you, you turned your attention back to the settings on your toaster. You kept a tight grip on your bat, though.

"This was where that vase was," Gavril's voice murmured thoughtfully. "Y'know, I'm usually much better about moving around in the dark... I hope it wasn't important."

Your toaster began ticking as it warmed up, and you turned to see him brushing a hand over the space where your vase had once sat. There was a slight pang for its loss, but you swallowed it down quickly. You were over it. That's what you kept telling yourself. And... You really didn't want to rock the boat with Gavril. "... It's whatever," You replied after a moment, stepping over to grab a knife for the cream cheese. "Weren't you hungry, though? I'd... Never actually thought about why you were over by the vase and not near the fridge."

Gavril was silent for a long moment—And you half-expected him to have closed the distance to be startling you when you looked back up. He had stopped moving, completely frozen staring at where your vase had once sat. You couldn't see his expression from where you were standing.

... The more you thought about it, in the silence, the less sense it made. The fridge gave off a little light at night, so... It shouldn't have been hard to find a snack. "... Were you after something else? The vase itself wouldn't have been worth much." As much as it might have pained you to admit that, it was the truth. All your items were worth significantly more in sentiment than their price tags—Save maybe your electronics.

Gavril moved again—This time, standing fully. His height put him up at eye level of your tallest picture frames. "Who's in these photos?" He asked, reaching up to point at them.

That... Was a hard dodge of the question. Not incredibly subtle, but then again, Gavril didn't exactly seem like a subtle person. A topic change was fine, though. Your free hand was shaking a little bit, so you decided to keep it busy.

"Which one?" You asked back, reaching up into a cabinet for a pair of mugs. "There's some with friends, some with family, one from a work party..."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gavril reach up to brush a hand against one of the frames. "This... Looks like a family photo."

A proper glance at the picture in question confirmed it. "Yeah. That's my parents, and my siblings. And me, obviously. Our old cat, too—He wouldn't sit still, so he's a little blurry." The mugs found a spot on the counter next to the kettle. "You want a drink? Tea, coffee, juice?"

"Coffee, thank you." He replied softly. You turned to take care of setting up the coffee machine. You picked a brand at random—Something basic, and you couldn't go wrong. With everything set to go, you turned back to your toaster.

"Do you... Talk to your family, at all?"

The question came out of nowhere—And you tried your best to not whip around to look at him. He was looking at another picture—Another family one, you were pretty sure.

"I... Sometimes, I guess? They live farther away. I don't see them as often. They always like to call for the holidays, though," You offered back with a shrug. "What's with all the questions, anyways?"

Gavril glanced over from the photo, and pulled his hand back. "Well, I told you a lot about myself, when we first met..." There was something melancholic about his tone.

Oh, yeah. He had talked about his own family a bit, hadn't he? You could sort of remember the details—You had been a little busy being scared for your life, but what you did remember wasn't great.

There was a sort of tension settling, and the air felt almost tangibly... Sad. The toaster dinged, and you set about grabbing a couple of plates. As much as it pained you to do so... You leaned your bat up against the counter, so you had enough hands to make breakfast.

"Did you ever catch up with your rat friend, by the way?" You found yourself blurting out, before hissing slightly at how hot the bread was against your fingers.

There was a noise from behind you, some gasp of realization—And then footsteps dashing out of the room. You glanced up just in time to see Gavril's coat disappear around the corner. From what sounded like the television room, he called over. "I did find Sobolan again! And he came with me, this time!"

... Huh. You hoped it hadn't spent this whole time eating through your couch. His footsteps came back when you finished putting cream cheese on the bagels. As you walked over to the kitchen table with the plates, he approached you with cupped hands.

Curled up against his palm was a beige-brown rat. It twitched slightly in its sleep, and curled up further against Gavril's hands as you watched.

"Oh, look at you," You cooed softly, reaching up. Gavril lowered his hands slightly, and you ran a knuckle across the rat's fur. It was surprisingly soft—And very warm. "Aren't you just so cute?"

The kettle began to whistle—So you carefully pulled away. There was a smile on Gavril's face—And he ran his thumb over Sobolan's head as you stepped away to go take care of it.

You poured yourself a drink, and left a mug for Gavril beneath the spout of the coffee maker, which began to drip just a moment after.

The smell of breakfast was nice. It'd been a while since you'd cooked for more than just yourself, but it was nostalgic. Or, maybe that was because Gavril had you thinking about your family...?

Gavril stepped over to the coffee machine, and watched intently as his cup was poured. "Do you have sugar? Or sweetener?"

With a thoughtful hum, you glanced at the fridge. "There should some creamer left in the fridge. And the sugar's over here." You gestured to a small container, over near the drinks. It wasn't all of your sugar, but it was convenient.

You made your drink to your liking, and moved to sit down. As much as you tried not to stare, you found yourself watching over the brim of your mug as Gavril scooped spoonfuls of sugar and splashed some creamer into his drink, before sitting down.

"Planning on having any coffee with your sugar?" You asked, amused, before you really thought about it. When Gavril stared at you for a long moment, you felt like maybe you should take it back before things escalated—and you left your bat by the counter, shit—Before he let out a chuckle, and his face shifted into an easy smile.

"You remind me of a friend of mine that I had many years back. A little spitfire, just like he was," Gavril remarked, before reaching for his bagel. "I think that's the term, anyways. Certainly, you have a sort of fire about you."

With a hum, you took a deep breath, and took another sip of your drink. Just play it cool, you reminded yourself. You still had to survive this, after all—Getting too comfortable with a criminal wasn't in your best interest, despite his casual charisma.

As you took another bite of your bagel, Gavril made a slight face—And reached for his plate. He held half of his bagel in each hand, and you were confused, until a quiet noise came to your attention.

The goo. Gavril's tail made a reappearance, twisting out from underneath his shirt, all thin strands and sticky shifting. "Impatient brat," Gavril commented idly, before dropping half of the bagel into the goo. In an instant, the darkness enveloped it entirely—Tendrils reaching and writhing as if they were fighting over it. When the ooze retreated back from whence it came, there was no sign of the half of a bagel that you just watched disappear.

Gavril didn't seem too concerned, taking a large bite out of the other half of the bagel. "Mm. Been a while since I've had a proper breakfast," He mumbled under his breath.

He crammed the next few bites into his mouth as you just looked on, trying to process it. So—It seemed like you weren't going to be talking about the goo. Okay, whatever. Gavril was already done with his food, but you felt you'd be a little longer to finish after the reminder you'd just been given, about how fragile your situation was.

You could only watch on as Gavril stood back up, taking both the creamer and cream cheese with him. In your own home, it felt a unique sort of awful that you couldn't stand up to him.

Gavril opened the fridge, and tucked the creamer away where he'd found it. "These are all the groceries you got last night," He commented, poking through what was inside. "You live alone, then?"

Well, that set off a number of alarm bells in your head. Bristling slightly, you narrowed your eyes at him. "I live with my bat," you replied testily, and Gavril turned around to lean against the fridge door, looking at where it was leaning.

"I am all too aware of that roommate," He replied, reaching up to rub the back of his head. "I'm still bruised—You certainly don't hold back, Spitfire." Surprisingly, he didn't sound upset about that—If anything, he almost sounded... Impressed?

"Yeah, well... I had a feeling it wouldn't end well for me if I didn't." You replied warily. You checked to make sure your bat was still by your side—And Gavril just chuckled. You narrowed your eyes after a moment, when you realized he was done in the fridge and that he was still keeping it open. "Close that door, would you? You're letting all the cold out."

Gavril blinked, and turned to glance behind him. "Oh—Sorry," He apologized, and shut the door without arguing. A small victory—You felt pleased in that much, at least. With a quiet sigh, you finished up your bagel as Gavril returned to poking about at your trinkets.

You cleared the pair of plates from the table the moment you were done. Dishes were a quick affair, rinsed of crumbs and set in the dishwasher, before you grabbed your mug and headed towards the TV room.

You froze when you entered the room—As you were reminded of the fact that Gavril had invited himself to your couch.

Seems he'd also done a bit of snooping—Your blanket for unexpected guests had been unearthed, and lay messily across the couch. A couple of pillows were rearranged, and on the floor... A black guitar case.

Huh. You recalled him mentioning something about a guitar before... You opted to sit on one one of the smaller chairs, nursing the last of your drink as he followed you into the room.

"Y'know, I wasn't really expecting the guitar," You commented as Gavril walked over to the couch. He didn't seem interested in the decor of your TV room—You supposed he'd already done his share of snooping in here, given that he'd found the blanket and pillows from the depths of the closet.

Gavril grinned, and reached for the bag as he sat down. "My pride and joy—This guitar and I go way back," He boasted fondly.

You weren't quite sure what you were expecting it to look like—But when he pulled out a black electric guitar, punky and sharp, it was a surprise—But not particularly surprising, if that made any sense.

It looked natural in his arms—And it was almost hard to believe that those dark rings around his eyes weren't just some persistent corpse paint left over from a gig. The electric guitar didn't sound quite right without an amp, but it wasn't unpleasant by any means as Gavril strummed a couple of chords across the strings. He toyed with the strings for a while, tuning them by ear, before sighing. "No chance you'd have something to plug into?" He asked. Thankfully, he didn't seem offended when you were honest and slowly shook your head. He hummed along as he played a little bit, and leaned back into the cushions of your couch.

"It's a very pretty guitar," You complimented, wrapping your hands around your mug. "Do you get a chance to play it properly often? It doesn't exactly seem like the type of instrument for someone who wants to go unnoticed..." You trailed off thoughtfully.

Gavril tossed his head back in a cackle, startling you. Your grip on the handle of your mug tightened, but you kept the rest of your outwards appearance neutral. "You're not wrong! I had this guitar long before my... Lets say, 'current lifestyle' began," He replied, standing up from the couch. With all the movement, you noticed Sobolan climbing from his pocket and onto the couch—But the rat just curled up on one of the pillows and seemed to fall back asleep.

Gavril, meanwhile, seemed to be all energy. "I was in a band—With my little fox of a friend," He continued on, strumming on his strings as he head banged about for a moment. They twanged softly in response, but you could imagine the sorts of sharp noises it'd be making if it could. "The one I mentioned earlier. Hair like fire, with a tongue to match. Hey now—That might be a cool lyric." Gavril was mumbling to himself by the end, tilting his head casually and plucking experimentally.

From what you could remember, he'd only really talked about his cousin in any sort of positive light before. This was an unexpected turn. Your mug was nearly empty, so you drained the last of it. "And we're similar, he and I?" You asked. He paused, and scrutinized you for a moment longer. He was looking at you—And it felt, in that moment, like he was seeing you in a way he hadn't before. That... Was a little frightening.

"You have the same sort of fire," He replied after a long moment. "The same sort of fight. But the rest remains to be seen."

His voice took an edge there—And you were starting to worry again. Did you make a mistake by pressing the issue further? With your best attempt at a nonchalant hum, you stood up and stretched.

"You left your mug in the kitchen—Did you finish your drink?" You changed the subject, moving towards the kitchen.

Gavril shifted out of your way, and you heard the rustle of his case as you were speaking. "All done," He confirmed, and the zipper started squeaking.

He stayed in the television room as you picked up the last of the dishes, and rinsed them quickly in the sink. The dishwasher would take care of making sure they were sanitized—You were already too tired to put much effort into it.

When you turned to face your kitchen, you froze. In the center of your floor, freezing in place as well... It seemed that Sobolan had followed you, and was sitting stock-still when you spotted him.

"... Hey, little guy. You startled me, there..." It was a good thing Sobolan wasn't a very dark color—You didn't think your heart could take it if you thought you saw Gavril's ooze coming towards you.

Sobolan hadn't done anything wrong, though. You crouched and put your hand out. His whiskers twitched for a moment, before he scooted closer. After sniffing your hand, Sobolan deemed you acceptable, and hopped up onto it. You scritched the top of his head, and smiled. "Guess I should be a good host to you, too. Let's see..."

The moment you offered, Sobolan took up a place on your shoulder. On your phone, you gave a quick Google—"healthy snacks for rats".

"I don't think I have mealworms. Sorry, buddy," You joked, looking at the list. Fruits, vegetables, seeds... Sure, you could do that.

Opening the fridge, you paused. It... Looked emptier than when you'd grabbed the cream cheese. But, Gavril hadn't been alone in the kitchen. He couldn't have grabbed anything...

It took opening up the crisper to look at your vegetables for you to realize. The carrot bag had been opened—But not ripped. Part of the bag was just... Missing.

The carrots just inside were odd as well—Missing chunks, but no sign of being bitten. Pieces were just gone.

With a start, you recalled—Gavril had kept the fridge open for an unnecessarily long period of time. Facing away from it. "That motherfucking tail of his," You grit out quietly, trying to maintain your cool.

You grabbed a carrot, shut the crisper, and closed the door to the fridge. Deep breath. Across the kitchen, grab a cutting board. Another deep breath.

You picked up a knife. The thought crossed your mind, whether or not you could stab Gavril.

You didn't think you'd get very far, frankly. That goo would just stop you or something. With an annoyed groan, you simply set about chopping the carrot into small chunks for Sobolan, trying to focus on something else.

The small pile caught the rat's attention—And he ran down your arm to investigate. You didn't cut up the whole carrot, saving most of it for yourself. You watched Sobolan's tiny hands pick up the pieces. He seemed to be having a grand time munching on them—So you took a bite, too.

... You'd have to go back out to the store soon. Even though you'd just gone—Once again, courtesy of your home invader. Whatever. He could eat what he wanted, as long as that didn't include you, you rationalized. That was enough to stop the thoughts of how expensive it would be.

Together, you and Sobolan finished up your snack, and you set the cutting board and knife into the sink. You turned on the tap for a moment, rinsing them off—And Sobolan reached out, balancing himself on one of your hands to steal a drink from the spout.

Once you were done, Sobolan made his way to the floor by hopping down drawer handles. From there, he began to trot back to the TV room.

Where Gavril still was. You assumed, anyways—You hadn't heard him go anywhere else.

... Actually, you hadn't heard him at all, come to think of it.

Cautiously, letting Sobolan lead the way, you walked back into the TV room. The rat wasted no time in climbing his way up your couch, and onto Gavril.

Sprawled across your couch, totally unresponsive to Sobolan climbing all over him, lay Gavril. Sleeping, in the middle of the day. Right after downing a whole mug of coffee—Though it may have been more sugar than caffeine, when you thought about it.

"God, I wish that were me," You mumbled, stretching up into a yawn. What you wouldn't have given for a few more hours of sleep...

Well, that hadn't really been Gavril's fault. He might have let you sleep as long as you wanted, had you not made a stir upstairs. Once again, you hadn't even realized he'd broken in until he'd announced himself. And he'd even waited before taking significant amounts of food from your fridge. What a gentleman...

With a sigh, you shook your head. With your spontaneous house guests taken care of, you left the room. You still had a whole day off to contend with—And far too much to get done to waste more time. You cracked your knuckles, and got to it.

~~~~~

It was several hours later when the sun was going down, and your home invader stumbled into the kitchen to the smell of stir-fried beef and vegetables. By then, you'd knocked out a pretty big portion of the housework. Laundry, dishes, and a little bit of cleaning... You'd tried to keep as quiet as possible, equal parts wanting to be a good host and fearful of the wrath you may experience from waking up the murderer hiding out in your living room, but Gavril hadn't budged until the smell of food had drifted to his resting place.

"Finally decided to rejoin the living, hm?" You teased, carefully flipping the food in your pan. The sizzling from the oil was the only sound for a long moment, before footsteps started making their way towards you.

When you glanced over your shoulder, Gavril was staring directly at the pan of food. His gaze was laser-focused—And you did your best not to recoil when you noticed that he was... Drooling that black ooze. Yuck.

"Why don't you go sit down? It'll be ready in just a second," You suggested, nervously poking at the meat with your spatula. You weren't sure what you would have done if he didn't—But, thankfully, Gavril blinked, and suddenly seemed a whole lot clearer. He jerked back, before shaking his head slightly.

"Sorry, sorry—I wasn't quite awake yet. It smells good!" His charismatic demeanor returned as he swept back to his seat.

The sudden twist had you reeling—But you relaxed slightly as he began to talk, and returned to focusing on the pan. "Thanks. Hopefully it tastes just as good," You replied pleasantly, trying to shake off the oddness of how still Gavril had been. "It's getting darker out—Think you'll head out once you eat?"

Gavril sighed, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him slouching at the table. "I suppose I should keep moving. Wouldn't do to have the police finding my favorite haunts, now would it?"

Well, that almost made you drop the pan. One of his favorites?? His voice was casual, and he didn't even seem like he was looking at you, fidgeting with his sleeves like he was.

... Well, that meant he was planning on coming back more, didn't it? Damn it. Was being nice backfiring on you? Or was this just the choice you had to make—Put up with this and live, or stand against it and die? You couldn't let him know what you were thinking—So, you decided to change subject.

"Y'know, that police officer I was talking to last night... He knew your name. I think they're aware you're in the area," You mentioned, moving the food out of the pan and splitting it between a pair of plates.

There was silence behind you for a long, long moment. When you turned around with the two plates of food, you were frozen solid by the intensity of Gavril's gaze—Almost the same as how he'd looked at the food, but... With a clarity that his hunger had been missing.

"... And what else did you talk about?" His voice was suddenly cold—And you couldn't help but glance at the floor, searching for any stray shadows creeping your way.

"I just told him I didn't know you. He said you're wanted and dangerous—Wouldn't tell me why, though." You replied quickly. You really didn't want to test his patience right now. "He walked me to the car, and that was it."

"... Hm." Gavril's eyes searched your face for a moment longer, before his posture relaxed, and he stared down at his hands.

That was... Good enough for you. You walked over and set a plate in front of him, before sitting across and tucking in yourself. Gavril hesitated for a moment, but it wasn't long at all before he began to eat, too.

"... You knew that I was dangerous already." It wasn't a question from him, but a statement.

"I had a feeling," You replied, spearing a piece of meat on your fork. "Y'know, I don't think most people silently break into homes twice. Or laugh after being knocked out with a bat, after getting caught breaking into said home."

Gavril hummed, and leaned back. His goo tail reached up over the table, and began to envelop chunks of the food. "No, I suppose they don't."

You leaned forwards slightly. "So... What are you wanted for?"

Gavril raised an eyebrow, surprised—Before that turned into a grin. "What do you think?"

Would it be rude to be honest? "Murder. A lot of it," You replied without considering that thought more. "I feel like if it was anything petty, or even just injuries, that officer would have just... Said that."

Gavril tossed his head back in a cackle, and leaned away. "And you're not the least bit afraid! You could be next, and yet—You'll still share a table with me. I don't think normal people react like that either, Spitfire—Do you have any skeletons in your closet that I should know about~?"

You didn't have a reply for that—He knew that he scared you from time to time, and yet... Here he was, claiming you weren't scared. And sounding downright playful about the whole matter, too.

Well, you weren't going to correct him. "If you were gonna kill me I just figured that you would have done it by now," You simply replied, leaning back yourself and refocusing on your food.

There was silence in response to that—And then, Gavril suddenly stood up. "It's dark enough out now—I think I'll get going."

He was really fond of his abrupt topic changes—But you appreciated no longer being reminded about how much distance there was between you and a very certain death. Before you could say anything, Gavril had cleared the room in a couple of strides, and was back in the living room. You could hear some shuffling.

When he returned, he was ready. Hood up, guitar on his back—You weren't sure if he carried anything else on him. "It's with a heavy heart I must bid you farewell, Spitfire," He said with a bow. One hand out to his side, the goo making an odd arc between his arm and his back. "You've been a most gracious host."

The formalities now were a little funny—But you simply smiled in return. "Safe travels, Gavril."

And with that—He was gone.

Suddenly, your house felt quiet. Almost... Too quiet. Well, it was nice that you lived alone. You pulled out your phone, and turned on some music—Before letting out a sigh of relief that you hadn't even realized you'd been holding.

As interesting as Gavril might have been, there's a certain sense of relief that you can feel when your life is no longer passively in danger. The ooze that came with him had left your house.

With a hum, you turned to the dishes. There may have been extras, but you didn't mind.

Staying alive was another win, in your book.