I Missed You {Hannah}

[JOEL VULPINI]

He was in New York.

Joel had been to New York only once. It had been a school field trip, seventh grade, and oh, it had been lovely -- the city was beautiful, the streets were so busy, and it was so like Chicago and so different at the same time. He had adored the place.

Of course, then the bus had left him behind and it took them a whole ten minutes before they realized he wasn't there and came back for him. One of Frankie's friends had convinced the teacher that he was there, when, in fact, he was sitting on a bench on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the bus to get there. It had all been a wonderfully cruel trick, with the intention of leaving him behind and then having a good laugh about it when they got to the hotel.

It had been a nasty end to a good trip, but Joel hadn't really held it against the city, only the people.

He had been staying in Trenton for the last three months. He'd had a job as a barista at a coffee shop, an easy job that didn't require a terrible amount of working hours in one go and didn't include a lot of cameras or monitors. Though he'd hated everything about New Jersey, he had liked that job -- it was a very nice place, and it paid well enough for him to pay the rent on a small apartment.

But then, of course, they'd gotten a new employee, a good-looking young man, and he...he was always giving him these looks, these looks, and it was so obvious that he knew, knew everything Joel had done. Such a clean and orderly and strong young man. He had to be an undercover agent. He was going to take Joel in...and then they would torture him, and probe his brain, and then they'd put him on Death Row and he'd die all alone. No. No, no, no, he couldn't let that happen.

One day, the man took a camera to work and took a picture of Joel. That evening, Joel tracked the man down and put a knife in his chest.

He hadn't wanted to. He really hadn't wanted to. All the blood, it was messy, and hard to cover up, so hard to cover up.

But he had to. He didn't want to, he never did, but he had to, or else he would die himself.

So he had left Trenton. He had left Trenton and taken a train to New York. He had taken a train to New York, and he had done his best to find his baby sister's address, clinging to the false hope that she might remember him, want him around. That she might still love him like she had when they were children.

Today was the day.

He bit his lip as he ascended the stairs of the Lost Boys Housing complex, shifting the strap of his worn old travel bag on his shoulder. Would she be happy to see him? Would she be mad? Would she slam the door in his face? Should he have called first? A thousand desperate questions streamed through his mind, and he found himself subconsciously clutching at the rosary around his neck, a gift from his mother for his twelfth birthday.

Please, he prayed silently. Please let her want me. Grant me this one kindness. Please.

The Lord worked in mysterious ways. Joel's life was proof enough of that.

He found his heart racing as he reached her door. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he took a deep breath, steadying himself as best he could. It was now or never. He was here, so might as well get it over with...

Chest hammering, he knocked on the door.

Knockknockknock.

ooc:
Outfit!

[HANNAH VULPINI]

OUTFIT OF A LITTLE SISTER WHO THINKS SHE'S A BIG SISTER!

Hannah Vulpini had not seen her family in five long, long, years. In some ways, this was a comfort. Her Father, especially, had been a great source of stress in her life. Frankie Jr. too was exhausting, a terrorize his siblings, and putting on the most innocent of faces for their parents. Hannah was sure her... Mother was well aware of Frankie's behavior. How could she not be? She was their constant caregiver, despite Daddy wanting the children to have a Nanny. It was unseemly for a woman of her status to do something as trite as care for her own children. While Olivia Vulpini was not Hannah's birth mother, she had taken care of Hannah. She had loved Hannah. The young woman, who had just been a girl when she last saw her Momma, missed her. Truly, deeply. But most of all, who she missed, so very unquestioningly was Joel.

Hannah was not the sort to make bones about her feelings. That said, there was no doubt in their home who's Hannah's undoubted favorite had been. The shyer, sweeter, Vulpini boy had been one of Hannah's few solaces in Chicago. He never wanted her to be anything but what she was, not like Daddy or Frankie. Daddy had wanted her to be a princess who dawned pearls, who captivated young man at dinner parties, and who remained a virgin until her husband thought it fit to take it from her, and then produce many children. Frankie had wanted her to remain in her room, away from the eyes of boys who would want at her, and try and paw their hands up her skirt. Though, Hannah theorized, this was not based on any affection for her, but because if she married a man Daddy approved of and carried on the lineage, half the fortune would be hers. Poor Joel... though no one was ever allowed to look at Frank Sr.'s will, they were all certain Joel would not see a dime.

Poor, poor, Joel who's only misfortune was to be born in a family who was not equipped to handle his sensitivities. He had been a sickly boy, prone to panic attacks and bullying. Especially at the hands of his elder brother, who was quite popular. Who had swagger with the ladies and was musically inclined. And, yes, he loved to show this fact off.

Hannah had not wanted to leave him behind. But she had been young, and youth made some selfish. There was too much pain in that family, Hannah couldn't deal. She fled, promising to call, knowing he would never speak on a phone. Promising to write, which she only did once a month, and had stopped when Daddy had been returning the letters. She missed her big brother, who was the only person to love her unconditionally. True, she had managed to make a placebo family of sorts with friends she had grown fond of. Holden and Mona, more siblings than she and Frankie had ever been. Hannah could only stare from afar, dwell jealously, and maybe offer a silent prayer to their time apart had made Joel strong.

Today Hannah was sitting alone in her apartment, watching Jerry Springer, eating Cocoa Puffs out of a Tupperware container. She had gone out earlier that day to snap some photos, but had since retired, annoyed with her own lack of muse. She wore thrift store cargo shorts and a soft yellow tank top and belt, as well as a pair of sheer black stockings that hid her flesh from under her shorts. Her black boots were worn and tired, the shoe lace ends frayed from being stepped on. As always she wore her own knit-ware, a long and baggy sweater that could hold three of her, and a gray and yellow beanie. Her make up was applied to darkly for her fair complexion, yet carried a striking appearance , contrasting with her shocking blue eyes. From under the hat, Hannah's long dark hair spilled down her back, swishing a little past half way down.

When the knock came from her door- far too meek to be Mona or Holden's- Hannah was watching as one white trash's man explained that he had not meant to get her twin sister pregnant, twisting the feather necklace in her fingers with anxiety. Looking up, she wiped the milk that dripped on her chin with the back of her hand, and set the Tupperware on the little beaten up table. Her apartment had lacked the finery her Father's house held. The pieces were pre-owned, many speckled with paint after she had thrown one of many museless tantrums. There were two closets that could be considered bedrooms, one storing her paintings that she was growing certain would never see a gallery, and the other had a bed and tv far too nice to make sense in this apartment. Trotting over to the door, Hannah undid the three thick locks, leaving the chain on to peer through. "Who is i-"

Hannah's blue eyes widened.

Joel.

Joel?

JOEL!!

Closing the door quickly, she ripped off the chain, running out to embrace her brother who was never far from her thoughts. "JOLLY!" She cried out, pulling him into a deep hug. Though he was not tall, he towered over his younger sister, who cried into his chest. Not fast. spilling, tears; thick ones that trapped themselves in her mascara painted eyelashes. Clutching his face, Hannah laid kisses on him, smiling through her tears. Jolly, her childhood nickname for him, a bout of accidental irony. Joel would never be jolly, she feared. Even now, he looked pallid, his hair was far too long, and the scruff on his face was prominent. And he was thin, so very thin. When was the last time he ate? "Jolly, how did you find me? This is so great, I've missed you so much!" Holding him close again, Hannah was sieged with guilt she so often tried to store away. "I tried to write... I wanted to call, I did! I'm so sorry Jolly..."

[JOEL VULPINI]

A million thoughts kept cycling through Joel’s head as he stood there, stiff and nervous. What if someone else walked up the stairs and saw him standing there? What if they thought he was some sort of creep or hobo asking for money? What if they tried to kick him out before he even got to see Hannah? What if Hannah wasn’t home? Oh, no, he hadn’t thought of that! What if he had the wrong door? What if she knew it was him and she didn’t want to see him? What if she absolutely hated him because she thought he had lied to her? What if she held their father’s crimes against him?

No, no, no, he was being ridiculous absolutely ridiculous—

What if Hannah knew?

What if she knew what he had done, killed all of those people, and what if they had lied to her and told her that he had done it brutally and done horrible things to the bodies? What if she thought he was some sort of horrible sexual sadist and never wanted to speak to him again? What if she knew, oh, what if she knew?

No, no, of course she didn’t know. Nobody knew. Right? Of course. He was very meticulous. He didn’t leave evidence. He didn’t have a signature. He just killed the evil ones trying to hurt him, and then he moved on.

He was lost in thought when he heard the locks start to click, but the sound made him snap to attention. His heart rate sped up tenfold. This was it. This was the moment.

"Who is i-"

His breath stopped dead in his throat as he caught sight of one of his baby sister’s familiar blue eyes, and even just seeing it sent a wave of relief through him.

But then, she slammed the door.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

He knew it. He knew she didn’t want to see him. He knew she hated hi—

Suddenly, the door flew open again, and his sister was crying that sweet childhood nickname she’d given him and throwing her arms around him and getting his shirt all wet. Joel’s rigid body visibly relaxed to accommodate for her as the respite that he had felt moments ago at the sight of her eyes returned, strengthened indescribably by her obvious delight to see him.

He rested his face in her hair and exhaled the breath he had been holding. “Hannah,” he sighed, drawing back when she did. She clutched his face, littering it with kisses and beaming through the tears that were clotting in her make-up. Since when had she worn such heavy make-up? It looked good. She looked good. Well-fed, well-dressed...good. But was she living all alone? That was dangerous. How was she paying the rent? Was she paying it okay?

He chuckled softly and blushed at the kisses, sheepish, waving her off. “Alright, alright,” he said through an uncontrollable smile. His smiles had never been very big, but they were always genuine – genuine happiness. It was hard for Joel to fake a smile.

"Jolly, how did you find me? This is so great, I've missed you so much!"

He wrapped his arms around her and smiled even wider into her hair. “Well, I was in town, and I knew you had to be here, so...I looked and looked until I found you. There aren’t a lot of Vulpinis, even in New York,” he commented, chuckling again. “I’m happy I found you at all...thought I might have the wrong building or something...you know me, always getting lost...”

"I tried to write... I wanted to call, I did! I'm so sorry Jolly..."

He hushed her softly and kissed the top of her head, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “I know,” he said. “Really, Hannah, I do. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for anything.”

Joel hadn’t blamed Hannah for a single thing in her whole life.

[HANNAH VULPINI]

Hannah was not what one would call a kind person, or a good person. Certainly not a bad person, but not a good one either. Her personality was constantly in battle with itself, and she seemed constantly ready to fight, ready to hurt those around her before they could hurt her. She was tactless and spoiled, with a men sense of humor and a decidedly solitary being. It was no wonder that in her five years here in New York that she had only managed to collect a handful of friends.

It was how she had always been. From childhood she was indulged in near every whimsy that passed her fancy, and lessons in empathy were rare. Yet, through all that, Joel had never expected anything from her. He never wanted her to be anything but herself. Daddy wanted a princess, Momma wanted salvation, and Frankie... God only knows what he wants, but it was certainly something. Joel had never expected anything, merely requesting- YES, requesting- that he loved her back. He was so fragile and sweet; how someone could feel anything but a need to protect him when concerning Joel, was beyond Hannah.

He answered her questions and hushed away her apologies. The brother and sister were both good and bad for each other. In a loveless family, they were each others light, a hope that there was some normalcy to be found. Yet, they indulged each other. He spoiled her, never allowing her to be accountable when she did something wrong. And Hannah had always babied Joel, acting the part of an older sibling rather than younger.

Pulling him inside where Hannah knew he'd be more comfortable, Hannah locked the house back up before going to the kitchen. He looked as though he hadn't eaten in days. Instead of asking, as he would answer with a predictable no, she poured him a bowl of cereal with milk, passing it to him as she filled her own bowl. "Organic cocoa puffs. I get them from the the whole foods place, so they're safe." Joel had always been a finicky eater, which Daddy had insisted was a cause for great embarrassment, one of many things he'd pick on. Oh, Joel runs like a little nancy, he might as well be a girl. Oh, Joel's doctor said that he's underweight, did you see the look he gave us? As if it were our fault. Oh, look, Joel is sitting on the bench during the soccer game, again. Must have had one of his little asthma attacks again.

Daddy was an asshole.

With a large bite shoveled into her mouth, Hannah waved him to come more into the house. "It's not that fancy of an apartment, but I'm basically living for free here. And the neighbors are pretty cool." As she stated her curiosities, Hannah perched on to the lumpy couch which consumed all those who sat in it. How would Joel like Holden? Or vice versa? She knew Joel came across... well... kinda squirrely. "You said you were in town... Are you here just visiting? Or do you need a place to stay? Does... does he know you're here...?" There was a nervousness in her last question, as he meant her Father. Hannah hadn't spoken to him in the long five years, being told to never come back which she was more than fine with. Momma had snuck a phone call almost a year ago, but otherwise contact was nil. While her happiness could not be greater at the sight of Joel, she couldn't help but wonder if this was all about to change.

[JOEL VULPINI]

Joel hadn’t had the same childhood as his sister. She had had whatever she wanted – toys, games, clothes, friends – whereas Joel had nothing. He could remember the few times he had asked his father for things. They had always been little things, like could Daddy maybe come to the play he was in, or could Daddy maybe come to Bring Your Daddy to School Day, or would Daddy let him play with the cute puppy.

The answer was always no.

And then Joel had figured out that Daddy would never give him what he wanted, because Daddy didn’t want him.

Frankie got Daddy to come to his games. Frankie got Daddy to come to his class. Frankie got Daddy to let him play with the cute puppy. So did Hannah. But not Joel.

He wasn’t the middle child that was deluded into thinking he was the least important. Joel was the least important. He always had been, and it had destroyed his sense of self esteem as a child. Everything in him had been devoted to convincing his father that he was a worthwhile investment of his time, and he had never managed to make a good enough argument for Daddy to pay him any mind.

It had worn him out. He was all cracked and rusty now.

Hannah pulled him inside and started preparing some food for him before he could say no. In any other situation, he wouldn’t have eaten the food at all, but Hannah knew that Joel trusted her wholly, and would do whatever she asked of him. Even if that meant eating. And he wasn’t hungry. He was rarely hungry.

Killing had ruined his appetite. He couldn’t eat meat anymore unless it was thoroughly cooked. The blood...the blood...that was his least favorite part. All the blood everywhere, so messy, he tried not to get it on his skin or his clothes because then it would stain, and somebody would find out about him, find out...

No. No, no, no. If Hannah wanted him to eat, he would eat.

"Organic cocoa puffs. I get them from the the whole foods place, so they're safe."

Joel smiled a little bit, nodding his head quietly. He was glad that Hannah knew what he wanted without him even being there. Organic foods. She was so smart. She knew so much more about things than he did, it was amazing. He didn’t know how she’d learned all these things about the world – he didn’t know a damn thing about life, except that it wasn’t fair and that, no matter what, he’d always get the short stick.

He came in a little farther, shifting his bag on his shoulder and shoving one hand in his pocket, the other on the bag’s strap. It was so, so nice to see her again...he had missed just watching her do her Hannah things. It had always been so comforting to just...be around her. Because he knew that she wanted him to be there. Nobody else wanted that.

"It's not that fancy of an apartment, but I'm basically living for free here. And the neighbors are pretty cool."

“Free?” He raised his eyebrows a little bit. “How did that work out? Wish I could get a place for free.” He tousled his dark curls with a chuckle. That was Hannah, though. Always getting lucky. Always getting what she wanted. He had never held it against her like he held it against Frankie, and he’d never been entirely sure why, but...well, he just hadn’t. He’d never wanted to – he supposed that was the thing. He’d wanted to hate Frankie. He had never wanted to hate Hannah.

"You said you were in town... Are you here just visiting? Or do you need a place to stay? Does... does he know you're here...?"

Joel visibly flinched at just the suggestion of his father’s name, a jolt of fear running through his body at the memory of why he left the house in the first place. His father. His father. Always hated him. Wanted to kill him. Hurt him. He’d had to get away. He’d been utterly convinced of it. Sure.

“I’m, uh...” He chewed his lip for a moment, an old habit from childhood. Daddy had often scolded him for it. “I left the house...a-a few months after you...haven’t spoken to him in nearly five years. Haven’t wanted to...” He exhaled through his nose, his eyes on the floor. “Um. I was living in Trenton, but I had to...move...so I’m here. Staying in a motel right now. Don’t really have anywhere to live right now...but I wanted to swing by...track you down while I was here. I missed you.” He looked up at her and smiled one of those endearing, nervous little smiles of his, one that asked and demanded nothing of her.

[HANNAH VULPINI]

Poor Joel.

Poor, poor, Joel.

Hannah watched him as he sat next to her, and as he twitched when he spoke of Daddy like no person should ever concerning their Father. A part of Hannah was happy to hear that he had gotten away.That would be important to someone like Joel. A rose needed room to grow outside, and if you kept it shrouded in the darkness it would not grow. Yes, her poor Jolly would certainly have moved on to- oh God, why Trenton? He literally had anywhere he could have gone and he went to New Jersey? But, then again, Hannah didn't know the full story.

Maybe he went their because of a girl! A beautiful girl who could coax a bit of strength from her sweet big brother. Perhaps they had been together for so long, and when the time came, this girl said no. She had too many dreams to settle down in Trenton! She wanted to see the sunrise in Okinawa, and she wanted to have a romantic embrace on top of The Eiffel Tower. She wanted to see the world, to have adventures! Joel understood this! But their relationship was forever damaged, so he left, never to return to New Jersey where he would have to face all his tragically beautiful moments! They parted, never to see each other with again, with a kiss.

Of course, this tale was a pure fabrication, and attempt for Hannah's brain to ease the guilt of leaving poor Joel all alone. Hannah could not, in fact, have been more off base when it came to him. Still, she wanted to hope that their time apart had made him better. Instead of... well, instead of the truth. That he had become even more fragile.

And even more dangerous.

"Well, it's not totally free. Just, the rent is so low- especially for it being New York City- it might as well be free. I mean, I know it's the lower east side, and it can be kinda shady. But I like it." Hrm, probably not the best thing to tell protective Joel. Still, he'd have figured that out. As much as Hannah liked her eclectic neighborhood, there was something very unsettling about the homeless crack head that liked to sit outside. Joel would also notice Hannah's three bolt locks, and the chain one which she always kept on until she saw who was through the door. And in the event that it was someone less than friendly, he'd notice the can of pepper spray hanging from a hook near the door. Just sitting their, as casually as keys. "It's a great place to live." She established firmly, though her smile stayed on her full lips. "The cup o' muse runneth over."

As he began to explain his current living arrangements, Hannah began to shake her head. She didn't even wait for him to finish, in fact. "Nope, uh-unh, no way. You're not sleeping in some seedy motel." If he was in one of the near by hotels, he was just begging for bed bugs. "You can stay here with me, Jolly. You'll have to help me pull my art out of the other bedroom, but there is no way I'm letting you sleep in a crack den-" Again, a missed chance to display a certain amount of tact when concerning Joel. "-when I've got a perfectly good room for you to use right here."

There, it was decided.

[JOEL VULPINI]

Little did Hannah know, Joel hadn’t been spending all his time in Trenton. In five years, he’d lived in eleven different cities, each time leaving on the pretense of searching for work when he was, in fact, running away from his crimes and himself.

St. Louis. A pretty blonde woman with a dog.

Miami. A Cuban gangster a head taller than him.

Philadelphia. A young man from the bookstore.

The list went on.

He could remember them, every one, every single one, made himself remember. If he didn’t remember, then he couldn’t hate himself for the things he’d done, the lives he’d taken, but he just...he couldn’t have done anything else. They had to be stopped. It was self-defense, self-preservation. It calmed him to kill, but at the same time, it didn’t make him feel any better.

And as the bodies piled up, he became less and less convinced by his own rationale.

“Shady?” Indeed, the very word whetted Joel’s older brother senses. He glanced over at her, quirking one of his distinctive eyebrows. “You’re...not in any danger, are you?” he questioned, even after she had assured him. “I mean...that...sounds a bit—I mean.” Glancing over at the door, he noted the pepper spray and the three locks. Even that couldn’t always protect you, but...well. He was here now. He could protect her. Joel had at least three dangerous weapons on his person at that very moment—he always did. For safety reasons.

Anyway, now that he was here, she would be safer.

His eyes widened at her suggestion. “Ha-Hannah, oh, no, I couldn’t ask that of you, you know I couldn’t!” he exclaimed, looking horrified at the very concept of imposing on his little sister. “I mean, it’s lovely of you to offer, but I—well, the food, you’d have to pay for us both, and I’d just take up space, and—no, really, I can’t, I can’t.”

Besides, moving all his surveillance gear here and setting it up without Hannah noticing? That would be difficult. And he’d have to check the walls for bugs and cameras. Check all of Hannah’s film, for that matter; make sure there were no chips or anything lying about...oh, that would count the computer, too. And hazardous objects, he’d have to check those. Double locks on the windows, he’d have to install those.

There would be so much work to do. He couldn’t ask her to undergo that for him.

[HANNAH VULPINI]

Called it.

Hannah gave Joel a gentle smile at his concern, shaking her head against it. No, she wasn't in any danger. Even if someone were to attack her, there was no competition between a soft bellied human and her foxself. And that's honestly only if it came to that. She might be five feet, two inches, one hundred and ten pounds, of pocket person, but as they say: Big things come in small packages. Metaphorically. Obviously an elephant can't fit in a shoe box. But Hannah could kick ass, when the situation called for it. Just like she could turn into a quick, agile, fang and claw wielding, canine. She was pretty sure the local crack heads didn't have anything on her.

"Trust me. I'm fine." Hannah said, cheeking her cereal as she answered. "I love it here. You will too, when you get use to it." Once Joel found out that he had a solid support system with her and Holden and Mona- yes, Hannah was assuming they'd agree to assist in being his support system- he'd settle right in. Hannah was sure of it. She'd have to explain away why she needed to leave every new-

What was that smell?

Her brows knitted as he tried to be so... Joel... about not wanting to bother her. "It's not a bother, Jolly. I want you to be- What is that?" Setting her cereal bowl down, Hannah pulled Joel closer with little diplomacy, taking a large whiff of his hair. Besides obviously being iffy about the water in the Roach Motel he'd been staying at, given the state of grease in his hair, Hannah smelled something... feral on him. His smell was like hers. His smell was like Holden and Mona's. His smell was even like Jamie's, who she had not met, but who's smell she knew by heart at this point.

Lift his face, Hannah's eyes were wide with fear and regret. "It's happened to you too, hasn't it Jolly? The... the change." It was vague enough to explain away if she were wrong, but Hannah knew she wasn't wrong. That smell... she'd know it anywhere. It had been such a consequential piece of her for the past five years. The fox was apart of every aspect of her life, and she always had to be mindful of it. And she hadn't minded it so much, because Hannah had felt she had nothing to protect.

But she did!

Because the same thing happened to Joel! He had suffered through the pain and confusion all alone. Hannah was strong, she could lick it. Joel was... softer. Gentle. He couldn't hurt a god damn fly. Once, when they were kids, he had rescued a little spider from the heel of Hannah's boot. And when the ungrateful cretin bit him, he couldn't even squish it then. Just wince and shoo it away. Why would this have happened to him? Snuggling her big brother close, Hannah's voice became sterner. "I want you to be here with me. I promise, you don't have to be alone anymore, Jolly. You never have to be again."

[HOLDEN MOORE]

It wasn't terribly often that Holden made it a point to just drop by foxy's place to surprise her with things; generally when he made it a point to put on some clothes and walk down the hallway he did have something in tow, but oftentimes it was a bottle of wine of the idea of getting a bite to eat when his roommate was out and he was left to himself for the option of finding something to eat. Today though, with his hair and clothes looking a little more than disheveled, he was carrying a curious present down the hallway.

Earlier that week Holden had taken a trip a scrap metal shop and done a bit of browsing. Among the bits of junk he'd found himself a treasure - a 'NO DUMPING ALLOWED' sign had somehow gotten thrown into a pile. It was glorious. He made out with a fair bit of supplies beyond the sign, but it was, by far, his favorite piece. Once he'd managed his way home (because who on earth would tote around a giant sign and a bag of odds and ends), the wolf boy was quick to put himself to work on creating a surprise gift for his favorite foxy lady.

The purpose of the gift? Ehhhh, Holden wasn't exactly sure. It wasn't like he was trying to bribe her for anything stupid he'd probably said in the past week or so, because at the end of the day, he was always saying something ridiculous.. No, there was just an empty spot in her living room where, with a little tweaking, the coolest of chairs could be placed for company to sit on. It was an idea that had always peaked his interest, but getting ahold of such signs cost a person a pretty penny and was utterly and completely illegal to just acquire on one's own. Still, it would be pretty neat. Not comfortable in the least, but since when did people actually sit in their chairs?

With a bit of cutting, bending, torching, welding, and finesse, Holden completed his offering in relatively quick fashion. Testing it had been, for lack of anything better to say, interesting. It wasn't made for a man of his lanky stature, so he looked hilarious with his limbs all drawn up. If he could help it, he'd never sit in it again. The couch was always more comfortable. It was sturdy though, so if she had company (did she ever?) there was always the option of offering it up as more than a conversational piece. Not that she needed any, her living room was full of things a person could ask her about.

Holden shuffled down the hallway, chair in hand, with equal parts of excitement and pride over his fine craftsmanship. He'd been too busy fussing over last minute details to remember to text her prior to showing up, so Holden was caught off guard when the door didn't just open for him. Generally, if he were making a trip over, she'd unlock the chain and he'd wander his ass down the hall and into her apartment.

"Shit." He mumbled. The notion of just going back to his apartment for his phone (shit was serious when he forgot his phone at home!) was not in his list of options. That took time. Then, what if she was being all sorts of 'what you want?' sassy. No. Her biting apathy was not something Holden wanted to deal with today. Well, at some point he wouldn't mind it, but he was too excited right now to be patient and play the game.

Options. Options. Options.

It dawned on him that transporting it from fire escape to escape would be reasonable. The people on their floor had become accustomed to the lot of them scaling the fire escapes. Besides, elevators and hallways were for squares. Could they be blamed? That dude in the office on the first floor was an epic-level creepy douche and he was always so damn nosy.

With the gusto and excitement of a child excited to see the pile of presents under the tree on Christmas morning, Holden made an easy task of moving the chair. He stopped a moment on the escape next to Hannah's to decline the offer of tea and cookies with the crazy cat lady that oftentimes drove his foxy friend into fits of rants. He wasn't taking the chance of her cats crawling all over him, and thusly ruining her own enjoyment of his latest creepy act of kindness. No way, Jose!

Paying no mind to the room itself, Holden was more worried about getting the chair in the window without having himself fall over the ledge. "Foxy! Behold the amazing wonders of a trip to the scrapyard! I come barr--" At this point, Holden had gotten the piece inside and glanced up.

This... was... awkward...

[JOEL VULPINI]

This...no. He...Joel wasn't sure how he felt about this. It was...it was sudden, very sudden, the idea of actually--well, he couldn't, there was no way that he could stay here, he didn't--he wouldn't be able to contribute anything, he'd just be like a...a parasite or something, but...

But oh, God, the way that she said it...

You'll never have to be alone again.

He knew that wasn't true. He knew that eventually, he would kill again, and he would have to pack up and leave more quickly than Hannah could possibly imagine, move somewhere else. And it would hurt her, and it would hurt him, because he would be alone again. He knew it. That was going to happen, in the end. He would be alone again.

But still...

"I really can't--" he began to say, as Hannah took a step forward and took a deep whiff of his...hair? He flushed a little bit, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I probably smell awful, the...water in the hotel I'm staying at, the faucet looks like it's been tampered with, the, uh, showerhead, I mean, and I--"

And then she spoke, and he froze.

The change.

What, like the change? How did she know about that?

"How did you--" he began, but then he stopped, sniffed the air, leaned forward and smelled Hannah's hair. Oh. Oh. That...was unmistakable. That wild smell...it reminded him of himself.

He recognized his kin instantly.

"I--I thought I was alone," he whispered, taking a step back, eyes wide, staring at her. "You...you, too? I thought--God, I-I thought--" He laughed, a little laugh of elated disbelief.

And then he heard the sound of the door, and an unfamiliar voice.

Joel snapped to attention immediately, seizing Hannah's arm protectively, stepping in front of her, putting space between her and the newcomer. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't family.

He sniffed the air suspiciously.

Wolf.

Well...that was a bit disconcerting. But it didn't matter. What mattered was keeping Hannah safe from...whoever this was.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he said, his tone low, dangerous with suspicion.