The next thing Patrick knew, a pillow was violently colliding with his face, accompanied by Frank's voice. "Hey Tree, you slept through class."

Patrick shoved the pillow away, instantly groaning with the soreness of his muscles with the movement. He blinked away the light, trying to get his eyes to focus. It was brighter than it had been when he went to bed. When he rolled to his side, he could see a duller sunlight outside the small window that hung above the area between their beds.

"What time is it?" Patrick mumbled, bringing his palms up to rub against his eyes.

"Afternoon." Frank replied, followed by the crunch of him biting into something and the starting sound of a laptop.

"Afternoon!?" Patrick shot upright, groaning again from the aching. He ripped the blanket off and moved to climb off of his bed. "Why didn't you wake me up!?"

Frank held his hands up where he sat on his own bed with a bag of chips in his lap. "I thought you set alarms!"

Patrick swore loudly. If it was afternoon, then he had definitely missed his midmorning class with Mr. Armstrong. He scrambled to find clothes while also trying to hold his pain off. "Where's my phone?"

"Oh shit, did you even charge it last night?" Frank questioned before popping another chip into his mouth.

"Kind of wasn't at the top of my priority list last night!" Patrick's words were muffled by the shirt he was tugging over his head. He somehow got it twisted and stuck, just adding to Patrick's frantic struggle. He could hear Frank moving on the bed before his feet hit the ground.

"Looks dead to me. I'll charge it."

Patrick managed to get the shirt on in enough time to see Frank plugging his phone into the wall charger. The drained battery batter icon flashed on screen. He swore again.

Frank pressed a hand against his chest. "The foul language coming out of you today, you really did get hit hard last night." He grinned at Patrick, "It is kinda hot when you do it, though."

"Shut up, Frank!" Patrick cut the air with his hand as he spun to look for his shoes. They had been kicked off near the foot of his bed, speckled with dried blood that could pass as dirt without close inspection. He slid them onto his feet, holding the edge of the bed as he did so. "I'll be back, just please don't go do anything stupid because I don't have a phone right now."

Frank flashed a thumbs up, "Save anything stupid for later, got it." He tilted his head as he watched Patrick struggle to put his shoes on. "I think you're wearing my shirt." He said after a moment.

Patrick finally got his foot snuggly in his shoe. "I'll bring it right back!" He hurriedly made his way to the door of the room, but spun on his heel before he made it the full distance. "Book bag!"

Frank pointed to the space under Patrick's raised bed, already back to sitting on his own and digging into his bag for more chips.

Patrick muttered a thanks, grabbing the loose handle of his bag and hurrying out the door. It wasn't the worst pain he had ever felt, but the soreness from his impact with the wall stayed with him the entire run to his class. He narrowly avoided other students and staff as he rushed across campus, earning several scolding remarks that only got halfhearted apologies in response. By the time he made it to the classroom he needed, his breath was labored and wheezy. Students were trickling out of the doors into the room, so Patrick took a moment to pause and dig through his book bag as his chest heaved and tightened.

His fingers finally found themselves wrapped around his inhaler, which he brought out of his bag shaking. He struggled with the cap for a moment, but finally got it off in order to bring the device to his mouth. He pressed down on the small canister, inhaling the burning cold burst of medicine, trying not to choke as he held the device to his mouth just a moment longer before pulling it away.

His breaths were still labored, but the tightening of his chest eased. He tried to focus on calming his breathing as the last of the class made their way out of the room ahead of him, occasionally giving him odd looks as he slid the inhaler back into his bag. Once the path was clear, Patrick slipped into the classroom.

He entered at the top of the rows of seats that lined the back of the room. They cascaded down to a lower level, where the teacher stood, shuffling paperwork he was sliding into his bag.

"M-mister Armstrong!" Patrick held his hand up in a wave before beginning to make his way down to the lower level.

The teacher looked up, smiling when he saw Patrick. "Hey, Stump, what's up?" He narrowed his eyes as Patrick made it to the base of the steps down, obviously catching on to the labored breathing. "Did you just run here? Aren't you asthmatic?"

Patrick laughed nervously through his breaths. "I, ah... So funny... funny story..."

The teacher straightened his posture, crossing his arms over his chest. "You missed the class, didn't you?"

"Me?" Patrick pressed his hand against his chest, letting out another airy laugh. He tried to hold a smile on his face, but it quickly dropped as he nodded, admitting quietly that he had overslept.

"What am I going to do with you?" Mr. Armstrong shook his head. "I'm always ready to help you out, but you've been missing a lot of lectures."

"I know, I'm so sorry." Patrick pressed his hands together, "There was an issue with my alarm, I really didn't mean to miss the entire class."

Mr. Armstrong held his hands up, shaking his head. "You're the one paying to be here, not me." He brought his arms back down to cross over his chest again. "You're lucky I don't have presence in class count towards your grade."

Patrick moved over to the desk, dropping his hands from their plea. "Is there any way I can make up today? Even just spark notes?"

"Besides hoping one of your friends lets you copy their notes?" Mr. Armstrong replied with another question, making Patrick's shoulders drop. He sighed. "Listen, I'm out for the week on business, but there's a night class that covers exactly what we've been covering. I'll give you the room number and time if you can promise to show up."

"Please." Patrick nodded. None of his friends took this class, and the notes wouldn't go up online until the next class was about to begin. He needed to keep as on top of the subject as he could. "I promise. No if's ands or buts."

"Cool." Mr. Armstrong nodded. He opened his desk drawer and rummaged around. He quickly found a blue posit note and pen to scribble down where Patrick needed to go. He ripped off the small square of paper and held it out to Patrick. "It'll be good catch up for you. I expect you to ace the quiz I'm giving when I get back."

"Quiz?" Patrick's eyes widened as he looked up at his teacher.

Mr. Armstrong just brought a finger to his smiling lips. "Study up."

—-

Patrick made it back to the dorm room just before five. He managed to actually attend another one of his classes, now finding himself free until the later class Mr. Armstrong had told him about. When he pushed open the door with a yawn, he found Frank with headphones on, sitting on his bed and biting the end of a pen while intently watching his laptop screen. He didn't even seem to notice Patrick enter the room.

Patrick shuffled across the room, slipping his shoes off and dropping his book bag at the side of his bed. He tapped Frank's bed as he moved towards the phone charger, making the darker haired boy jump.

"You're going to explode ink all over your face again." Patrick yawned again as he pulled his phone off the wall cord and unlocked it. He maneuvered the screen to set an alarm as Frank pulled the headphones down from his ears.

"That hasn't happened in awhile." Frank argued, though he did set the pen down off to his side. He leaned forward and turned his laptop screen towards Patrick, pointing at it when he realized Patrick wasn't fully paying attention. "Look, I think I found footage of that guy from last night. I don't think he was alone."

"No one came running when we stabbed him." Patrick turned to the screen Frank was pointing at. It was a black and white frozen video feed. There was only one figure on screen, who had their head turned to the side, flashing a grin to someone or something out of view of the camera. Patrick leaned towards the screen, squinting at the image. It looked similar to the guy from last night.

"I've been going back and forth over different cameras on and off campus." Frank turned the laptop screen back to face him, "I haven't been able to get an angle that sees him with anyone else though."

"I think he was by himself last night at least." Patrick leaned against Frank's bed, watching the darker haired boy minimize the video feed he had just been observing in order to pull up another one that Patrick recognized as somewhere near the admission building on campus. "You're sure you won't get in trouble for hacking into these?"

Frank let out a laugh. "Of course I'll get in trouble. But they'd have to find out who I am in order to dish it out." He rewound the footage on the new tab before pressing play. That same guy walked into view, glancing briefly up at the camera. His eyes flared on the screen like an animal looking into a trap cam. As fast as the look occurred, however, his eyes were back to a lower level as he turned to someone once again off screen. "Seems he was friendly with someone."

"So there's possibly at least one more on campus right now." Patrick sighed, "Great."

"I'm thinking we can scout tonight." Frank shut his laptop. "Who knows if our second vamp even realizes his buddy is dust yet."

Patrick pushed himself upright. "I'm kinda out for tonight."

Frank turned to him with confusion. "Listen, I know that 'No social life' comment last night was kind of mean, but I didn't think it would actually push you into making one less than twenty four hours later."

Patrick shook his head. "No, Frank, I've got a make-up class recommended to me for the one I missed today... The one I miss a lot of days. It's a night class."

"You're abandoning me for education?" Frank gasped, pressing his hand dramatically against his chest. "It's like we're at a school or something!"

"I can't mess this opportunity up!" Patrick shoved Frank with a laugh. His smile faltered as he thought about his words the previous night. "I just need to make up a few missed projects. I'm still in... but could tonight's recon just be more footage scouting? So I know you're safe?"

Frank smiled at Patrick. "What, you care about me or something?"

Patrick rolled his eyes. "If you die, they'll suspect the roommate first."

Frank laughed. He adjusted himself so that he laid sideways across his bed, facing Patrick. "Or significant other. Do I not have a life outside of this either, Tree?" He poked Patrick's nose with the nickname.

"You and I both know you don't." Patrick replied, to which Frank stuck out his tongue.

"Fine. For you, I will sit in our warm little dorm while you go out into the cold and learn stuff." Frank pushed himself upright to maneuver himself off if his bed. "I'm grabbing snacks if I'm staying in though. Want anything?"

"You know me." Patrick pushed a hand through his strawberry blond hair, "I'm not picky."

Frank nodded. "I gotchu." He ducked under his bed to grab something before straightening. "Oh, and if Ray comes by while I'm gone, I have his notes in my bag."

"You miss a class too?" Patrick asked.

"Better question is: do I ever make any of my classes?" Frank winked, heading towards the door.

Patrick pulled his bag up from the floor and crawled onto his bed. He flipped through his notes, constantly checking his phone for the time. He didn't want to be late for this class. He still had plenty of time, but he was still nervous to miss it.

After awhile, Frank returned with a bag of snacks, tossing some chips to Patrick and setting a bottle on a bundle of blankets near the edge of Patrick's bed. He then climbed into his own bed, opened his laptop, and got back to working on whatever project he was working on.

Both Frank and Patrick's heads snapped towards Patrick's phone as his alarm began to chime. Patrick shut his notebook and swiped away his alarm. "I'm out."

"Keep your eyes open." Frank warned, "It's dark out now."

Patrick nodded as he slid off his bed and pulled his bag onto his arm. "You've taught me, I know the tricks."

Frank gave him a thumbs up before turning back to his laptop screen.

Patrick made his way out of the dorm and down the hall. A few students had their dorm rooms open, letting the sounds of music or video games drift into the hall. He ducked under the path of a football being tossed between two rooms near the end of the hall and began to quicken his pace to get out of the dorm building.

The air was brisk once again, sending Patrick's breath into the air as a faint puff of smoke as he stepped into the night. Despite the chill in the air, there were still plenty of students out and about. A small group played football on a grassy patch. Another group watched a few feet away, occasionally giggling or cheering with encouragement. A pair passed by Patrick, holding hands and smiling at each other. It was nice. It was more alive than what he usually got to experience whenever he was out after the sun set.

When Patrick made his way to the room that the sticky note indicated, he took a short breath before pushing the door open. There was a handful of other students already in the small room and a teacher standing by the door that turned to him with a smile.

"You're my extra tonight, right?" It was an older man with hair gelled into a grey Mohawk.

Patrick nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Billie told me." He gestured towards the seats in front of him. "Take a seat and get ready to take some notes."

"Thank you." Patrick nodded. He hurried over to the rows of seats, choosing a spot near the back of the room. He settled quietly, pulling a notebook from his bag and beginning to prep his new note page.

More students slowly trickled into the room, though it still made for a smaller class than what Patrick normally sat with. He kept his head down, waiting for the class to start. A soft murmur of conversation kept the room active around him. A break in the noise made him pause. It lasted less than a second, but it was enough to catch Patrick's attention. He kept his head down, but raised his eyes to get a look at what changed about the room.

There were a few more students in the room, but one in particular caught Patrick's eye. It was a guy in a stripped sweater, lowering himself into into a chair. He had a hood covering his head, but raven black hair peeked out near his face. Something about him made him stand out from the other students. He had nothing with him. He seemed bored to even be sitting in the room. As other students began to get their notes and textbooks ready, he leaned back in his chair, letting his hood drop from his head.

Patrick inhaled a sharp breath. The guy's features were sharp. His limp hair fell back, framing his face and giving Patrick a clearer picture of the figure. He looked like a regular hot guy... There was just something about him that just seemed... off.

Patrick lowered his eyes to his desk. He could hear the teacher speaking, and he knew that he should have been paying more attention, but he couldn't shake the feeling about the guy in the striped hoodie. He managed to scratch some notes down before curiosity got the better of him. He trailed his eyes back across the room, still keeping them lower than eye level.

The guy in the striped hoodie still sat with his head back and angled at the ceiling. He was sitting perfectly still, almost as if he wasn't even breathing. As Patrick moved his gaze up the guy's face, however, he noticed his nose beginning to twitch. In an instant, the guy's posture straightened as he lowered his head. Patrick dropped his eyeline as the guy's head turned in his direction. Patrick focused his gaze at his desk, but he could feel the eyes of the boy in the striped hoodie boring into him.

For the rest of the class, despite trying to keep his focus on the material being taught, Patrick could feel those eyes on him.

When the class was over, Patrick was slow to slide his notebook into his bag. The other students around him had bubbled to life, shuffling and speaking loudly to one another as they moved to leave the room. Patrick knew one lingered, however. He could still feel the gaze tempting him to return it.

Once the classroom had mostly cleared out, Patrick rose from his chair. He moved to the front of the room, thanked the teacher quietly, and slipped out of the door. He could hear a chair scrape across the floor as he stepped back into the night air. He knew he only had seconds if his hunch was correct. Not far down the wall of the building, there was a alley-like gap between two of the buildings. Patrick moved towards it, reaching into his pocket and wrapping his fist around a small vial. As he rounded the corner into the alley, he could feel the eyes again. He gulped, holding the vial tighter in his hand.

Other students paid him no mind as they moved on with their night. They didn't care that he had ducked into this narrow space between buildings, or that he had hidden himself beside some shipping pallets in anticipation of something happening.

It was in that moment it occurred to him that he should have texted Frank. This was the exact thing he always got frustrated at the darker haired boy for: entering a dangerous situation without warning. There was no time for it now, however, because a figure in stripes was rounding the corner to the dark space.

He didn't say anything as his eyes darted back and forth, bouncing against the brick walls that boxed them in. He stepped further into the dark, sniffing at the air as if trying to pick up on a scent. He was making his way closer to the pallets Patrick was using for cover.

It was now or never.

Patrick jumped forward like a frog, knocking the figure back against the wall and pinning him with an arm across his chest. The figure hissed, immediately beginning to fight back and bare fangs at Patrick.

"Stop it!" Patrick held the vial up, keeping his eyes level with the figure's chest. "Unless you wanna burn like hell."

The figure stilled. He could feel those eyes, once again, glaring. "And what's stopping you, hunter?" The figure growled.

Patrick fought himself to keep his eyes down. Something about this guy's voice drew him in closer, but he knew he couldn't meet his eyes. He focused on his chest, noting dark swirls of tattoos that peeked from under the sweater. "So you know what I am?"

"I know that you stink of something." The figure spat, "I felt your eyes in that room, but you wouldn't return my gaze. Even now."

Patrick felt a finger brush against the underside of his chin. "Nu-uh!" He shook the vial in his hand, beginning to move his thumb to open the cork latch. "None of that, or I'll drain all the holy water on that pretty face of yours."

A laugh from the figure. "Oh, think I'm pretty? Then why won't you look at me?"

Patrick said nothing as a loud burst of laughter echoed off the walls around them from somewhere just outside of the alley.

"What was the point of this?" The figure asked, "Are you really going to kill me with a crowd of people around?"

Patrick pressed his lips together. The holy water wouldn't kill this guy, but it would make him scream. He had also never gotten his stake back from Frank, so he had no immediate way to stab the guy, or even ensure it would go all the way through in enough time to vanish. This was stupid. He should have just ran. He should have tried to message Frank and make a plan.

Patrick pulled back the arm that had been held against the figure's chest, though he still held the holy water in place.

The figure laughed. The finger that had brushed against the underside of Patrick's chin swiftly moved away, but not before cutting into the skin of his neck at a downward angle. "You call yourself a hunter." He hissed as he stepped away from Patrick.

"Yea." Patrick held his head high as he heard the figure take another step away from him. "Keep that in mind the next time you go for an on campus meal." He turned towards the entrance of the alley, seeing a group of students not too far off in the distance. The figure, however, was gone.

Patrick hurried to the main sidewalk, but saw no trace of him. Even glancing at the tops of the buildings, he saw nothing.

Patrick swore lowly before hastily moving towards the dorms. It seemed to take twice as long to get there than it did to leave, but he eventually made it back to the safety of the building. The hall was slightly easier to navigate at this hour and he soon found himself back in this and Frank's room. He pressed himself against the door once he had made it inside, breathing heavily.

Frank was on his bed, shooting him a curious look at he ate from a cup of noodles. He finished his bite and set the cup on the dresser beside his bed. "Something happen? You're pale as shit."

Patrick let himself sink to the floor, still leaning against the door. "I think you were right about the guy from last night not being alone." He panted, still trying to catch his breath.