Young Writers Society

Kaz's eyebrows pinched up and together and he tilted his head a little. He was honestly confused now.

"Should we leave a little early you think? Just to make sure she doesn't - or we don't get in trouble?"

Bobby bit his lip. Considered. Nodded.

If they got caught here by the wrong person, they wouldn't exactly get in trouble. Queenie would, for sure, and Bobby imagined she would be 'on vacation' for a couple of weeks at least. Bobby and Kaimir, though? They'd be dead.

"How about just to be extra cautious, we just stick around for some extra snacks and I don't know, take turns with taking a fat nap, and then just go," he suggested, smiling a little. "I don't know about you, 'cause I know you laid down for a bit, but I sure could use one."

Bobby dipped his head in agreement, "You can rest." He needed to take care of the blood trail, anyhow. Queenie will have noticed it on her way out. Bobby didn't think she'd call for cleanup. If she did, though, Bobby cleaning it up first might get her in more trouble.

Kazimir smiled. "Sweet."

He took the last of the cheez-its and dumped them into his mouth, along with the crumbs, while holding the bag up and shaking it all in. When the bag was empty he crumpled it up and shoved it in one of his many jacket pockets. He took the fruit-roll up and stashed it away for later.

"I think I might close my eyes now, for a bit. Feel free to wake me if I'm looking a little pale again."

Bobby glanced at the settup they had in place with the blood bag. It was best described as 'makeshift', but he didn't think it would go awry.

He gave a little nod and went to find some cleaning supplies. Hopefully there was something here that wasn't also a weapon.

Kazimir let out a small sigh and closed his eyes, still thinking about the cheesy taste coating his tongue. It was better than thinking about the needle in his arm, or the pain in his leg.

Fortunately, though, all of the blood loss (even though he was getting some back) was enough to tire him out. It had already been near the end of his day back home, in 1996, and at this point, it was probably nighttime there. Relatively.

It didn't take long for him to drift off, and once he did, his physical body followed.

The man, once sitting asleep on the couch, was gone.