Sunday Morning

January 21,

10: 00 AM

Valli was in the middle of preparing breakfast when Kane stomped down the stairs from the warm, soft bed he had in his immaculate room. The host hummed and bounced to a song in his head, his oversized fluffy pink blanket hoodie designed with cartoon goats thrown over him. He wears it every morning to cook. A large mug of coffee sat out for Kane, and a smaller yet wider cup of tea sat closer to Valli. The cup used for his honey tea is a cute pink kitten-themed mug, complete with ears at the rim and a slim tail as the handle. Kane doesn't speak upon entering the kitchen, by now expecting Valli to be aware of his presence. The man doesn't disappoint, grinning cheerily over his shoulder as he scrambled eggs.

"Good Morning! How did you sleep? Is the bed still treating you okay?" He is much too chirpy for Kane in the mornings, no matter how genuinely concerned and joyful. However, the hunter knows it's because the retired man wakes at dawn out of habit, drinking coffee and tea in the double digits before Kane gets up.

Taking a seat at the island counter, Kane drapes his button-up shirt over the stool next to him. He has taken to walking around the house shirtless, showcasing beefy muscles and thick arms to the air. Valli keeps the fireplace on and when it's off, the heat is on. The man saw no issues in staying topless — Valli can't get an eyeful to be upset. There was also no rule not to. Behind him, he can hear the fireplace roaring with a fresh flame and feel the heat circulating the house. The added warmth from the oven and stove creates a heatwave in the kitchen, leaving the wider man a tad too warm. Compared to Kane's missing shirt and his thick jeans, Valli doesn't find an issue with the temperature in his fluffy hoodie and short shorts, which the other can't even notice under the top.

"How aren't you hot?" Kane ignores the questions, going for one of his own. It makes Valli pause, hand holding the pan with scrambled eggs and the other a spatula above a plate. His head turns to reveal the profile of his face, the puzzled frown and furrowed eyebrows clearing into understanding, a crooked smile tilting into view.

"Oh!" He laughs, turning back to his eggs as he shrugs. "My body always runs a little cooler. I get cold more easily and tend to run the heat without much need. I mean, I turn off the house heat when I use the fireplace, but still." Valli gasps, spinning around with the plate filled with eggs, and wide, concerned, eyes directed at Kane. "You too hot? I've noticed you run pretty warm. I can turn the fire off?"

Needlessly, the man shakes his head. Sipping his coffee, the strong and bitter taste punched him in the face. "Nah. I'll be fine. Whatever works for you." He weakly assures, pretending not to notice the sweet smile on Valli's lips over the rim of his mug.

A phone ringing gains their attention, interrupting any response the scarred man could give. He perks up, settling his mug on the counter to walk past Kane into the living area where his personal phone is on the coffee table. The hunter watches from the kitchen, curious. Kane is man enough to admit he likes observing Valli, whether it's due to his appearance or the protective nature of the bigger hunter looking out for the vulnerable around him.

Valli doesn't tilt his head down to the phone, simply flipping it open and sliding his thumb over the number pad to find the answer button. Raising the device to his ear, feet leading him back to the kitchen as he greets welcomingly. "Hello! This is Valli!"

The other side of the conversation is silent, Kane is left in the dark about who it is and what they want. He's put at ease by the dimpled grin on his host's face, the bright recognition suggesting it's one of the hunters that the man manages. He's seen Ma's eyes sparkle and her shoulders copy Valli's in losing tension, the worry on them falling. Enthusiastically, the greeting is changed. "Adam! I was beginning to worry! You hadn't called in weeks!"

As he listens, the man finishes plating the food he made. Bacon is placed with the eggs, three large biscuits are added, and gravy is poured over the fluffy buttered soft bread. Once the ceramic plate is filled, the white of it is covered to the inch with food, he slides it to Kane with a broad, lighthearted smile. He refills the man's coffee, the phone held to his ear, humming occasionally to show he's listening. The moment the coffee pot is safely returned to the coffee maker, Valli pauses movement, and the homely expression Kane has been receiving vanishes. Those sightless eyes mold into dull daggers at the floor, the soft hands grip the phone and edge of the counter, and the gentle merry voice switches to chastising.

"You what?!" Like Ma, he doesn't give time to respond to the redundant inquiry. He is continuing angrily, parent-like, with a wrath that shocks Kane. The man halts eating, fork to his open mouth, to merely watch the unexpected ire. Sparring a thought to be thankful he can be seen looking like an idiot. "You're MIA for goddamn weeks and you just now tell me you tried to take four fucking Demons by yourself!?" Kane winces, slowly shoveling food into his maw as he listens. If I did that to Ma, I wouldn't be leaving her house for weeks. She would've broken my ankles.

"No! Shut up!" Valli snaps sharply, lips twisted in a nasty frown that doesn't fit on his face. "You went in alone with four demons. I know for a damn fact you didn't come out 'all good'! So you're gonna get your ass down to me, you're on house arrest until any wounds are healed!" He orders, next demanding. "Where are you?"

Kane observes his host pace the length of the island counter, doing mental math to figure out when he could get the fence done. He doesn't want to be around when this Adam shows up, if Valli is anything like Ma (and it appears he is similar to her more than previously thought), it's best to stir clear and find a hunt fast. He won't risk getting caught up in this mess, too many times has he been present to get the butt of Ma's ire when she was still raging from a stupid hunter decision. By Sunday night, latest Monday morning. It should be done by then.

After minutes of setting out orders for the wounded hunter, the phone is hung up and dropped on the counter. A searching hand grasps the large mug of tea, raising it for the vexed man to take a long, calming sip. Eyes closed, Valli inhales the warm scent of his honey and black tea. The scars on his eyes wrinkle softly, the thin flesh of his eyelids puffy and roughened. Kane silently proceeds to fill his mouth with food, watching flatly behind half-lidded eyes and his shoulders hunched over his plate, strands of his unkempt hair falling over his bushy eyebrows.

"Sorry for that." Valli apologizes, cheeks heating as a pale pink blush paints his face, a nail tapping sheepishly on the mug. He shrugs, a shy smile twitching to life. "Adam is fairly new in this life. He thought he was ready to take a group of demons on. He wasn't."

Kane snorts, eyebrows jumping to show the mirth he feels at the explanation. Swallowing a gulp of coffee before he responds, his throat clogged with the mouthful of food. A stifled chuckle reaches the scarred man's ears, calming the butterflies in his stomach and allowing his fingers to settle on the mug. "And he's alive? He should be dead."

"I know. I told him to be careful and start with one or two creatures. Don't get outnumbered." Valli shakes his head, clicking his tongue. "He is so in trouble. I'm gonna keep him on lockdown for a month, just watch me. I swear," his lips purse in disbelief. "These new hunters are just so damn stupid! Can't do a damn thing with common sense!"

"You sound like my dad and Ma." Kane muses, a light smirk forming on his face, he finds levity in the rant and it is sensed by Valli. The host's cheeriness returns full force at the knowledge the Hunter thinks he is somewhat amusing, his words at least.

Valli smiles joyfully, "Well, considering Ma sounds like a wonderful person, I'll take that as a compliment!"

The other man nods, remembering himself. His shoulders close around his head, and his eyes snap down the empty plate, only gravity and crumbs left to greet him. A fist clenches the fork in his hand. Grunting out shortly, awkwardly. Uncertain how to push himself away from the conversation he hadn't meant to participate in. "You should."

###

Monday,

January 22, 2012,

11: 10 AM

Valli is pouting to himself. He is reclined on the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate, knees pulled to his chest, and a thin blanket over his legs. The TV is on, playing a nature channel on low volume. He's simultaneously listening to the calming noises from the screen and the sounds from outside the window behind the sofa, it calms his mind to focus on Mother Nature's soundtrack. Thinking over last night, when Kane came inside after dark and announced the fence was finished. Complete with new bright lights to keep the field lit, he said. Then the hunter had asked how much he should pay for the stay, explaining he needed to 'take off' before morning. The man huffs to himself, I'm blind, not stupid, either I did something or he doesn't like other people. Or both.

After signing the book to mark the day and time, Kane left before midnight, handing over thirty dollars rather than the twenty the owner requested. Valli heard the loud heavy truck roar to life, the gravel under the wheels. He listened, straining his ears as the distance grew and the truck rolled onto the main road. The only thought in his mind as he sat on the porch was; I might have a crush. Shit. He rolled his eyes at the absurdity of himself. By the time he went to bed, he decided to push those silly feelings down. If Kane returned and a relationship was created he'd revisit the crush. For now, it is best to ignore them simply.

Besides, there are more important things to worry about. Like the one he hears driving up the driveway, the light vehicle bouncing on the rough terrain as the small pot-holes and large pieces of gravel rock it. Valli sighs through his nose, his lungs sinking with the exhale. I always tell him to find a sturdier car, he's going to be killed in that tiny thing.

All hunters he interacts with are classic cars or the heavy, bulky kind of vehicle people. Both choices are expected, and good. Classic can be fast, smooth driving, and provide spacious weapon storage. Trucks have more storage and are great for running over specifically aggressive creatures. Tiny little square cars are not the best choice. Considering how easy it is to flip, damage, and smash completely. The first time Valli felt the outline of the car, via insistence, he ranted about how a werewolf or a wendigo could trample it without even noticing the car in the way.

Adam found Valli a year ago. Flying down the driveway on a souped-up motorcycle, stomping rudely on the porch, and demanding to learn how to hunt. The story was his girlfriend was attacked by a Ghoul, a dead creature that feeds off humans and robs graves. A hunter took the ghoul out, put a bullet in the half-eaten woman's head to end her agony, and burned both remains. Adam was furious, terrified by the scene he walked in on (he witnessed his girlfriend being eaten alive). When the hunter present refused to reveal the hidden world of monsters, Adam followed him and got into some trouble. Hunter after Hunter circled Valli's name to him, eventually bringing the determined man to his porch and making him Valli's problem. Adam just refused to leave, returning each day he was refused information.

The rejection was meant to protect him and keep yet another human from entering the supernatural realm, allowing generations of hunter-families to continue the work. The Safehouse Owner often wishes he could have gotten rid of Adam at the beginning — he's a handful of ignorant and reckless.

Settling the mug on the coffee table, he pushes off the sofa to meet the skipping footsteps bouncing up the porch stairs. Turning the corner into the entry hallway the moment the screen door is opened, the cheerful playful greeting grates his nerves. "Hey, Valli! I made it in one piece!"

"Barely." The blind man corrects, crossing his arms and training his eyes to the space the other is taking up. Adam is standing by the little desk and book used to track visitors, his voice guiding Valli. The retired hunter notes the man hadn't stepped out from the demon trap under the desk just yet and is on the rug hiding it from view. The demon trap the younger man isn't aware of. Keeping this notice in his mind, he lets loose his irritation. "You mean you barely made it back in one piece. Four Demons?" The words tilt into harsh sarcasm, an underlining suspicion in them. "What? You just forgot everything I said or figured one year of hunting is enough to know better than a hunter with basically thirty years of experience on you?"

The young hunter sputters, chuckling nervously. The floorboards under his feet creak with the shifting weight of his body, and the air surrounding Adam pushes towards Valli with the new movement. Sharp senses and a trained nose hook into the coppery metallic blood aroma and a clogging scent of sulfur and burnt-out fire smoke. The smells trigger a natural response within the experienced hunter, Valli's spine straightens smoothly, his legs spread to shoulder width to stabilize his balance, and his arms fall to the pockets of his oversized hoodie. He has no weapons on his form, merely protection tattoos, but there are hidden compartments by each trap.

"Riiight..." Adam coughs, raising his hand to the nape of his neck to cautiously stroke the cut there. His slim face is littered with bruises, minor scratches, and shallow scratches. Green eyes discolored with heavy bags under them. Rushing to respond the twenty-year-old stumbles over his words, squirrelly and fretful. "Right! — Well, I finished that werewolf hunt you sent me on and I was coming back — I swear I was!" He takes a small breath, hands waving and gesturing, the air brushing against Valli suggests. "But then — then I stopped off at this bar, as I do, and I overheard these guys talking, right? Turns out they were hunters..." He gulps, embarrassed. "I-I mean, they were — until we got to their motel room..."

Paying no mind to the older man's arms, the left limb disappeared from his view, leaving only Valli standing in the doorway to the living area. His hand found the tiny latch in the wall behind the sofa arm, pulling it up silently with two fingers and carefully sliding his hand inside the secret nook. The cool feel of raw sharpened metal greets his flesh. A dagger wouldn't harm most monsters, Demons especially, but one dipped in holy water or dead Preacher's blood will. A quick feel inside the nook reveals a small potion bottle, the item snatched into Valli's palm the moment he recognized it. The bottle isn't opened just yet, there needs to be confirmation of a monster to demand he use it. Valli will not waste supplies by being overly paranoid.

Outwardly, to Adam, he hums and nods along to the rushed and chopped sentences. Once the young man's voice fades into a mumble, he responds almost coldly, uncharacteristically reserved. Adam's thin eyebrows furrow at the man's ghostly eyes icily gazing at him, the stone blank expression off-putting. "I've told you about the hunter bars across the states. Hunters don't go to just any normal bars and Demons wouldn't walk into a bar filled with Hunters; not when every inch is salted, trapped, and holy watered. Somewhere you made a mistake. Where was the mistake, Adam?"

"What—"

"Let me clarify." Valli interrupts, head tilting, eyes unmoving from the target he can't scope out. "Either the mistake was how bad that lie was, maybe it was walking into my house possessed by a demon. Or letting one hitch a ride inside." Slowly, he walks calculated steps around the trap under the rug to the middle of the entrance, directly in front of Adam with ten feet between them. Launching a stern order, "Walk into the kitchen."

Confused, the new hunter begins to walk steadily towards the kitchen doorway — getting knocked on his ass within the first five feet from the front door. The man squeaks, landing on the floor with a racket, and shakes in faint electricity stocks. Valli wastes no time. The moment he feels the vibration of the invisible wall activated by the trap, the bottle pops open and the clear holy water is coated on the dagger. Adam doesn't receive time to process he is stuck in a demon trap before a searing heat pierces his thigh, he screams in bloody agony, eyes snapping down to find a dagger sticking from his leg.

Valli had thrown the dagger, making an educated assumption of where the man's legs would be due to the sound and the thumbs on the floor. The Bed and Breakfast owner makes no move to assist the man or creature he stabbed. Instead, pulls his phone from his pocket to locate a number, sighing in disappointment one of his hunters got possessed. By a demon no less. Now he has to figure out if the smokey demon is good or bad, had permission (because idiots do that), or if the demon went inside Adam forcefully. Addy is not gonna be happy — it was meditation day today.