MURDER ON THE HIGHWAY

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

Taxi was too distracted by the way the water shimmered in that ooooh prettypretty way to realize Gabri had left or to hear the click of the door. He probably was drugged, one of the many many many people he had killed tonight was most likely on something. Afterall, he had sort of wandered home through the city in a daze and because he left a huge bloodtrail he'd had to kill anyone who followed it, which only led to a larger blood trail which lead to more people and MORE people before it occured to him to move through the waterway and not drip blood everywhere.

As a result a whole bunch of curious drug addicts had become part of the blondes menu. That, the general pleasure of blood, and the way Taxi enjoyed pain was what caused him to splash around in the bathtub and gurgle bloody water and blow bubbles. Only after a few minutes of this he realized Gabri was gone.

WHAT HAD HE BEEN THINKING LEAVING HIM ALONE OH MY GOD HE COULD HAVE DROWNED OR SOMETHING OR- Oh hehehehe right he was dead hehehehe. With that in his lucid as all fuck mind Taxi sunk down into the water to let his hair float around and all the crusted up and coagulated blood drift up and swirl around. Nearly impossible to see through the thick red water that was becoming a bit soupy with everything that was leaking out of him, but it was nice. Taxi blew little bubbles before all the air in his lungs ran out. It was good for Gabri that a simple bathtub would amuse him endlessly right now.

Well. Almost endlessly. His body was sucking in that bloody water, thinking it was just dilutted blood. It was flowing through him untill what was inside of his body and what was in the tub became one and the same. Unfortunately, this meant what was in his system was an equal parts water and blood not very druggy sort of substance. Infact, it was downright unpleasant.

So that pain was just pain now. Iron in his body, fabric being melded into his flesh, skull slowly working on forming more substance. Which hurt, being able to feel the little crystaline shards jut out of what was already there. And yet he couldn't move his limbs, HE COULDN'T MOVE HIS LIMBS, THIS WASN'T SEXY BONDAGE, THIS WAS BEING WET AND BLOODY AND BROKEN AND WHERE WERE HIS TEETH-






A blood curdling scream would tear through the apartment and reverberate off of its walls, being unable to remember what had occured from the moment he got his head shot in to this very point in time. Too many trippy drugs, too much shock from missing brain, too much general fuckupness. And now he was screaming and moving as much as he could (Which wasn't a lot) and squinting his eyes closed. What happened, where was he, where was Gabri, why did everything hurt and WHY did his veins feel so weak.

[Rip]

Gabri was hungry but he was also tired. While he was certain there was no way Taxi could possibly injure himself anymore, the Pole didn't trust the vampire in his er handicapped state to wander around. Especially if the thought being ripped to peices felt good. That was weird. Locking him up had been the most humaine way to deal with this aside from sitting with him the entire time, which he intended to do as soon as he got something to eat. Gabri made something quick, just a five minute egg sandwich, but soon as he sat down to eat it he nodded off and left it on the table uneaten.

Dreams were confusing. Voices he never heard before, bright lights and cold metal. Which way was up? Where'd the stars go- maybe it was the dirt. Wait, there was no more dirt. There was no more up. It all made sense.

The screaming grabbed him and slowing brought him back, until he reconized the worldliness of it and felt himself falling and slam hard against the metal. Gabri shot up, eyes bursting open, knocking over the chair and himself as he scrambled and raced to the bathroom. Fuck, he shouldn't have left.

Gabri unlocked the door and threw it open. In his terror, he forgot what english was. "Hej , hej! Jesteœcie ty dobrze?!"

1. Hey, hey! Are you alright?

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

(I don't feel like finding a polish translator again so fuck yourself, Polish is in italics)

His screaming wouldn't stop. Taxi was utterly frantic, trying to move, writhing about and only ending up knocking the shoulder which was out of its joint further away and driving his broken bones deeper into places they did not belong.

The blonde cried out as he thrashed pathetically in that tub which might as well be full of blood, staring at his limbs and joints and demanding they obeyed him. But most were severed, or exhausted, or perhaps a bullet had smacked him somewhere which was disallowing the nervous system to work. Whatever the reason, the most movement he could get was a wriggle like some demented worm. And then Gabri's voice hit him, and as a natural reaction he responded in Polish, though it was still a scream.

"I CAN'T MOVE, I HURT, I HURT, OH JESUS, THERE'S IRON, IT BURNNSSSSS GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT" And with that he went back into panic, chest heaving in unnecessary breath and mouth gurgling water out. There were things in his body which were not supposed to be there, and just as the vampire would vomit painfully if he injested anything other than blood (Or watered down blood) his corpse was none too pleased with the presence of metal.

[Rip]

ooc: I'm going to punch you in the brain


It occured to him then that he had been a moron for not checking his friend over; he had seen Taxi rip bullets out of his own stomach before so it was pretty damn obvious they weren't suppose to be left in there. But, then again, he had been confused. That, however, was no excuse in his mind and the same needles of guilt that had been in the vampire were now stabbing the Pole mercilessly. He ran across the bathroom quickly, kneeling beside the tub, at least glad that the confidment was keeping him from bouncing across the floor. "SHH, quiet, everyone around here will hear you! Stop moving; you're making it worse." Gabri wasnt' a doctor, not like he could kill Taxi or anything, but still. He had next to no idea what to do except the obvious, and he wasn't looking forward to it, adrenniline pumping, scared to death that those police and their mole dogs would come busting through the door. "I can't help you if you keep kicking around." Trying hard not to raise his voice, not wanting to yell if he could help it, trying so hard to keep calm, he started ripping off the remains of Taxi's shirt, disturbed when he saw fabric in the numerous holes. But those could wait, the bullets needed to come first before. Oh god damnit shut the fuck up Taxi. Gabri leaned in and put one arm across the top of the corpse's chest to keep him still (or try), as he dug his fingers into the bullet wounds.

Idiot should have done it while the blonde was still high or drunk or trippin' or whatever the hell he had been.

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

Yeah. That's right. He should have. Because now he had a vampire that felt like he was on fire. Which was probably the worst sensation ever, especially for someone who could only be killed by fire. Or the sun. Those little sunshines kids drew seriously freaked him out.

The German tried to still himself, staring upwards at the cieling and hissing out air and quakey little breaths. Fingers that were not his own were going after that metal lodged within him and the iron and gunpower was bleeding into his system, soaking into the flesh around it so that even when it was yanked out the pseudo-rust would still be present and hurting him. Sooo hard to stay still. Knees jerked, head rolled, the few fingers he could move clenched and unclenched and then decided to dig into his palm.

"Maauuussiiiiii" He whined, wishing he could just pass the fuck out like he'd seen humans do. God that would be nice. Taxi could have fallen asleep, but that was highly unlikely with how his body was burning up as though he had a fever. What was supposed to be cold was not.

Atleast Gabri was here, nice nice Gabri, taking the bullets out for him, putting him in a bath. It almost distracted him from the notion that he had no fucking idea why he was here in said bath or why he hurt all over. But he would stay as still as he could, twitching and shuddering and jerking and breathing in that tub of bloodwater.

[Rip]

"Hush up, hinny." Gabri said softly, holding back the bile churning in his belly. Jesus this was disgusting, he was about to blow it, swallowing feebly against the waves of nausia as he picked out the peices of shirt. For someone who chopped off heads and hauled around an axe with dried brain matter on the blade, the Pole didn't exactly have an iron stomach. It was hardly rubber, actually, but this needed to be done and it was his fault so he'd be the one to do it.

The idea of knocking Taxi out had crossed his mind, but while he whiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of a still clean upper sleeve, he realized he wasn't sure if it was possible anyway. Besides, he might just knock his brains out and that would be awful hard to fix, not to mention even nastier then what he was currently doing. When the fabric was out he reached for a towl and cleaned off what he could before he finally couldn't take it anymore and had to sit down without looking at the broken mess in the tub. "I should go."

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

The metal and fibres of fabric wedged in his flesh were now removed, letting the undead man relax ever so slightly. With a decent portion of the pain removed, he found himself able to think. Or tried. It was really hard to form thought with part of your head gone, although that was what his body was pushing its resources towards fixing as it filtered that bloody water through it. The bathing water was actually becoming clearer as the healing substance was filtered through and water expelled through what to Taxi seemed like very unnatural sweat and tears leaving his pours, tearducts, and the various holes and scratches on his skin.

Crying? Yeah. But Gabri wasn't looking at him so it didn't matter. God, he just wanted Quinn right now. The vampires mind was elsewhere, completely ignoring the Pole who had just helped him.

Fuck, his arm was still out of its socket. If he could just push it up against the edge of the tub just like so- And he did. With a bit of a bang the blonde had the use of one of his hands back, groaning in relief as he flexed the fingers as much as his exhausted muscles would allow. What the hell had happened, anyways? Last thing he knew Gabri was awful mad at him and then they were running from the cops cause of psychobitch- Oh, yeah, she had shot him, hadn't she? Probably knocked out some memory portion of his brain. That had hurt. Hadn't told his friend, and then, then...

Couldn't remember anything past cracking his head on the pavement. Damn. Gabri must have freaked. Green eyes crossed the room to the Pole who had just spoke. He looked awful. You'd think a psychotic murderer would have a higher tolerance for blood and gore. Apparently not. Taxi had no idea what to say so he remained silent, taking a quick look around to note that there weren't any windows here and it would be safe if the Pole just left him here.

[Rip]

He let the mice in his skull to chew on his last statement for a while. Logically, it was the smartest thing to do. Someone probably saw a half headed zombie running into the apartment; it would be a amazing if they hadn't. Once they got up the nerve to report it, or saw it on the news and realized they weren't just dealing with an acid trip, the police would be on the trail again and eventually lead here. Gabri would be in serious trouble. But that wasn't what he was thinking about. No, he happened to be watching a sort of slide show of how much he had screwed up and how many times he happened to say the word 'sorry' since he met Taxi. It was alot of both. Immortal or not, so far Gabrjel caused him to be shot, ruin a shirt, get chased out of Vegas, go into depression, ask oddly deep questions that even made him depressed, get shot again, fly off a building because he was too much of a whimp to jump to the next roof, get torn apart and presumably shot more, lay screaming in a bathtub and now lay mostly motionless in said bathtub.

Way to go, champ.

Feeling awful about leaving the German there but not seeing a better solution to this spree of terrible luck, Gabri stood up and folded a towl to put under Taxi's head or neck if he wanted it. He decided a blanket probably wouldn't be smart.

"I'm going to run now, Taxi." He ment it literally. Gabri was never one for slang. "I'm sorry this happened."

Before leaving the apartment though, he cleaned up the blood on the livingroom floor, then took his hat and hatchet and locked the front door behind him. He thought about going after his coat but in the end turned the idea down. Not worth it.

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

Sorry this happened? As in all of it? As in the week or so they had spent together, getting to know one another in creepy intimate ways? Talking about their problems and their lives, their minds too. Gabri had made him feel normal when he wasn't jumping off of buildings and doing stupid things which apparently inevitably drove him away Hell, Gabri had even told him about the things he saw, and had given him a backrub and and-

And now he was gone. The blonde frowned miserably, resting his neck on the towel and staring at his feet. Great. Gabrjel regretted everything they had done together. Sure, it had been a strange bonding experience full of bullets and tears and blood, but it had been the sincerest thing he had encountered in decades. He had been nice, a bit crazy, but the boy had tolerated him to almost no end.

Unlike his friend who had left, he regretted nothing. There was no room for regret in his life, if he dwelled on someting like that he would turn into a ball of sadness. Right. Don't be sad. Optimism worked its way into him, or tried, and he busied himself reaching out of the tub and sticking his teeth back in his head once he had the energy and pushing the bones back where they belong. And then after trying to think happy happy thoughts, the German fell into that might-as-well-be-dead state of slumber.



When he awoke he found that his muscles worked fully and his head had closed up, though the bone felt thin. Sloshing out of the tub which was now entirely water after tearing the rest of his clothes off the 600 year old dripped his way to his bedroom where he threw himself down on his face.

He missed Quinn. And now he was missing Gabri, although not in the same way. Damnit. Why did he have to drive people away.

"Teufel Ungeheuer." Taxi muttered before throwing on some clothes which did not match (Didn't care?! Woah) and going for a walk. Maybe buy a tv or something to entertain him now that his friend was gone.

[Rip]

Gabri figured he could get out the city easily enough. No one knew what kind of car he drove aside from Taxi, who he left back in the apartment and who he was certain wasn't going to turn him in. Even if he hadn't become so oddly close to the little monster, the boy was naive and trusting of most people until they gave him evidence to suggest otherwise. Like odd religious things that might suggest them being demons or something like that. Regaurdless of technicalities, Gabri meant what he said when he told the vampire he 'seemed very real'.

He decided to head to Philadelphia for now, until the heat died down a little. While he was depressed about leaving his damned coat on that roof, he valued his life more, and decided not to explain to his father that he had lost it. It would stroke an ego more to say it was stolen. He was also depressed about leaving his friend, but he shoved that out of his head, not wanting to be tempted to go back there. Gabri left for a reason and it wouldn't be fair to go against it. Caused enough chaos.

Plus, now he could finally take that vacation- this was concieved in his brain bitterly. He wouldn't send anyone to judgement on the long, nasty drive to Pennsylvania.

Over a week passed and he slept in his car outside a mostly abadoned garage, getting money mostly through free lance things and showering wherever he could. Some drawings for news papers, selling observational works and portraits for cheap, cleaning lots, mowing patches of grass people called a yard, ect. Just enough to get by until he figured out what to do. The idea of going back to Europe was a farfetched plan, but also made most sense. He could always stay at home for a little while before coming back to America. He missed his family anyway and felt terrible for never having a stationary adress to send them mail (forget computers, it took three years of negotiation to convince Mr. Gabrjel's Dad to buy a colored tv).

He had a job that afternoon cleaning a woman's apartment before a party, so he parked his car and got out, making sure he looked presentable, and went inside. She was an elder woman, maybe a little too prissy but nice at least, and she even offered him some lunch. Unfortinatly, when she happened to glance at an older newspaper Gabri had overlooked, she reconized the face in the national news. All hell broke loose at that point. All of a sudden she was screaming that she had nearly been strangled and hacked to peices, and when the boy ran he was chased down and had the shit beaten out of him by the local cops. Hauling his bloody and busted self in, the wannabe reaper made headlines again, this time reporting the trial and the verdict of 'clinicly insane'.

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

cThis crap city was actually pretty nice once you got used to it. But, Taxi hadn't. He hated the little fucker, so he packed up his shit and headed back to Vegas where he proceeded to kill people so he could spend their money frivilously, drink the blood of drunk people, and dance in some of the raunchiest clubs he had ever been to. A blatant cure for depression, and even when he visited some old friends in the city they noticed. They also stuffed his pockets with cash and got him a nice shiny new car to improve his mood.

And it worked. Gabri wasn't forgotten, no, Taxi was drowning his lonliness in sin. Wonderful wonderful sin. Kicking open the trunk of said corvette when the sun rose the vampire drifted to the drivers seat, mumbling that he really should be more careful not to stay out all night. Ah well. Car started and he flicked through the radio while his other hand shuffled through his luggage in the back seat looking for something, and then he dropped what his hand clutched to and stared at the radio.

Gabrjel? His Gabrjel? They'd caught him and shipped him off to a loony bin? The blonde glared at the little piece of equiptment as though it was a filthy dirty disgusting thing, spewing such lies at him. Not that he didn't like crazy houses, he liked them plenty and it was probably what Gabri needed. Hell, Taxi had been thrown in them a couple of times for miscellaneous reasons and the padded walls were really fun.

But Gabri would not be happy there. He was suffering. Probably miserable. And it didn't matter that the vampire was a bit moody about him abandoning him, he didn't want his friend to be somewhere he didn't want to be. So the teenage-looking boy swerved with a screech and headed down the road to first buy a map and find out where the hell Pennsylvania was, and then to go there. Atleast this gave him something to do. No clue of how to get Gabri out but never being a creature who planned anything in the least, he headed down the highway and decided to make it up as he went.

[Rip]

'Paranoid Schizoprenia'

Thats what his file said, and that's what the doctors and the lawyer and the man who typed the papers said. Gabrjel had never studied into psychology when he was growing up. He had heard the term but only loosely, only based on the typical stereotypes in movies and books and word of mouth. The Polish boy, of course, didn't believe a word of it. How could he? The man who administered this hellish medicin on him had a damned pig tail sticking out his ass and his hooves clicked while he walked. Yes, he was going to trust the opinion of a pig-man.

Riigghhtt.

But the treatment was terrible. The pills, Risperid... Risperidowekrhwekrhwehr, he didn't care what it was called but it was killing him. After taking it he always sat there, lethargic, unmoving, unable to comprehend or respond an react- looking catatonic in his cell that was most certainly no fluffy padded wall. It was a simple structure with more security cautions then some of the other inmates- soiltary but in veiw of the others. Nothing sharp was to be passed, nothing so much as a damn pen or paperclip because they got the idea that he must be some master of escape.

Sure.

It embarissed him more to have to piss infront of people then anything else they could possibly do.

The phyciatrist they forced him to see was the dumbest shitface he had ever seen, who had NOT CROWS sitting on his shoulders but fucking flamingos, a rediculous symbol of a man who still had balls to grow. Of course, the boy knew better then to open his mouth and talk, even with the coaxing and the threats. The threat of hell, the real hell not this attempt of worldly torture, overweighed his concern about loosing 'tv privlages'. At one point, when the doctor hit on a particuarly sensitive nerve involving his home life, Gabri had stated 'I'll see you to hell." the shrink inncorrectly quoted 'ill see you in hell'.

Today, after the numerous tests they still did on him, his veins shot in one arm because of incompetant nurses who didn't know how to aim, he sat against the wall, head sunken down, eyes watching the ground, thinking about how good swallowing his tongue sounded.

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

It had taken a few days to get there. Who knew Pennsywhatever was so far away and finding where they stuck Gabri was even harder. And when he got to the damned place they insisted nobody visit after dark, so Taxi had to say he had some skin disease where he couldn't go out during the day. Which was true. Ish. Kinda. Not really. But he had parked his nice fancy car outside and the nurse lady receptionist chick fell for the lie easily when the blonde laid on some charm.

He hated flirting with females. They were so gross. And fleshy. And they always acted like you wanted near their vaginas, not to mention they usually got all huffy if you dared to glance down at their boobs which they propped up like fucking landing pads. Females did it on purpose, to attract males but pretending they didn't. But if you dared to suggest or even hint at that truth OH SHIT YOU WERE A DEAD MAN! Luckily Taxi was already a dead man.

After getting his gift approved by security the vampire had been ushured through to the visiting room where he waited for Gabri. The pink thin box was laid on the table and he leaned back in his chair, glancing around at the other patients who were talking with their visistors. Some serious lunatics. Poor Gabri.

[Rip]

The ward brought the reaper to the visitor's room in handcuffs. Gabri was a murderer and couldn't be trusted, he was also unstable and might think his friend had put him in the hospital- words of the shrink. Something about aliens. Having not mentioned anything about demons and knowing the sterotype for schizo's had to do with E.T and UFOs, the Pole had sprewed out some nonsense about octopus people in spaceships. It had been hard to imagin something like that. How stupid. He felt rediculous but it got them off his back. He hadn't noticed that he didn't feel bad about lying to these people at all, nor did he have any mixed concerns about thinking awful thoughts about them.

When he saw Taxi, he couldn't completely understand who he was looking at at first. They had given him the nightly meds to keep the hallusinations at bay, and thus left him little more then a vegtable with a heartbeat. When the gaurd sat him down infront of his friend, it took nearly two minutes to get a responce. His hazey grey eyes looked up, unclouding lightly, and said in his typical voice, "Are you ok now, hinny?"

[KOCHI-KOCHI]

Taxi was dressed impecibly tonight. A drop dead (AHAHA) goregeous suit which shone magnificently and was cut just right to his body (if not a bit too tight) and of the deepest black imaginable. Shiny polished up shoes and a black silk shirt underneath, though it was mostly covered by a yellow and black striped tie. He had figured it would be best to look clean as he could here. Afterall, he was Gabri's accomplice in murder, but the man they had on film was a shot in the gut wearing a bumblebee sweater scared running kid. The Taxi of today could have easily passed for a twenty five year old just by his posture alone.

When Gabri came into view said posture dropped and a grin broke over his face, leaning forward on the table with arms folded. The German didn't say anything till the others eyes cleared and spoke.

"I'm fine, Mausi, how're you? You look like shit!" And yet he said it in the cheeriest tone imaginable, foot tapping and unbuttoning his suit jacket and throwing it over the back of his chair. "I got you something to munch on, the quack said it was ok. You ok? How'd they get you?" Hyper and glad to see his friend, it didn't occure to Taxi to slow down, or that Gabri may be on numerous drugs. This was a chance to redeem himself after being rejected. Oh right. And probably bust him out. He really did look like shit.