Who: Herbert and Sammy
Where: The Williams' house
When: Midday

The adrenaline was gone. It had been gone for quite some time now, in fact. Sammy wasn't even scared now - well, not too scared. The fluttering palpitations of his heart could only be chalked up to one thing, and that was his caffeine and sugar intake. Oh yeah, the coffee and soda and anything with sugar that he could lay his hands on were all combining to make sure that he was Sammy-the-hummingbird as opposed to Sammy-the-raven. It was fun, in the kind of way that is so not fun. The music was still going in the livingroom, but it was quieter now. He'd had to do that once Geo left, since he'd have to be able to hear if someone came a'knockin' at the door. Like, what was happening right now. It sounded like someone was pounding on the front door with both hands instead of the customary one hand - lovely. So he should get that. Probably...

Bouncing on his heels he pulled the curtain next to the door aside so he could peer out. A smile crossed over Sammy's face as he recognized Herbert and made short work of the locks on the door so he could pull it open for his friend and wave him inside.

Herbert had, indeed, been pounding on the door. When he finally found Sammy's text from the night before, he had been up and out the door immediately. He even bypassed poor Olivia entirely, pounding down the stairs to... his lack of a bicycle. There had been a long moment of indecision between simply jogging to Sammy's and taking a side-trip to hopefully retrieve said bicycle from where he'd left it. As long as the vampire didn't mess with it and the police hadn't confiscated it.

Since if Sammy really was in trouble or hurt or something, it had been the night before and he really couldn't do much about it now, he'd wound up getting his bicycle first. Which was intact, if a bit scuffed from being so rudely kicked aside, and right where he'd left it. Herbert had sent a quick prayer up to the spirits in thanks and madly pedaled to the Williams' house.

And yes, when he got there, he pounded on the door. And as soon as Sammy opened it, he all but rushed him, hands grabbing for his shoulders and nose going straight for the braids, his face, his neck, sniffing him all over to make sure he was all right.

A little taken aback by Herbert’s actions, Sammy stood stiffly for a couple of seconds, mind blanking. And then his thought processes kicked in and he was wondering if things like a skinned knee and elbow or bruises or small cuts altered his smell any. It would be interesting if they did, but he couldn’t really smell himself, and-- and…what was he thinking?!

Sammy extricated himself from the other were’s grasp and quickly nudged the door shut with his foot. Vampires weren’t supposed to come out in the sun, but that didn’t mean that these ones followed the rules, right? …were there rules for vampires? …and, okay, no more thinking, time to find paper! And wave hello to Herbert, too. Again. Right.

There were definitely not-quite-healthy smells there: raw skin, the faint tang of blood, neosporin or something like it, and the even fainter taste of old fear. Herbert let Sammy go when he finally pulled himself free, but he went with him further inside, following after him and demanding, "What happened? You said 'too late' in your text-thing, and you smell hurt." Rather like he was sure he did. His own wounds included band-aid-smells on top of the medicine, and his face was bruised and cut rather obviously.

He'd found the paper he wanted, set on the kitchen counter under the empty coffee pot. More coffee would be nice - he'd make it in a minute. Right now he had to answer Herbert. Kind of. "You do, too." Sammy looked up at the taller boy. "Smell hurt, I mean. And you look terrible. Do you need ice?" He could get ice, and be Mr. Denial. It would be fun, and...Herbert was probably as bad as Geo. He'd probably keep on asking just like his brother had earlier. Or maybe not? "I went out to see what the gunshots were from." And wasn't he Mr. Disjointed on top of Mr. Denial today. Maybe coffee wasn't good? The bandaid/antispetic smell was kind of putting him off of that thought.

"You went out to see...?" Reading that, Herbert was incredulous for a long moment, but then it passed into weariness, because he had a sinking feeling he'd do the exact same thing. Hadn't he done something similar, just because he'd smelled fear? "'Course you did," he sighed. "And you got into trouble with the vampires." He bypassed the needing ice thing completely, along with discussion of his own hurts.

…okay that plan had just crashed and burned. Way to go sucky plan! Except…no. Not way to go. More like way to massive failing and why did no one ever decide to get distracted like he wanted? Just once couldn’t someone actually get dragged to the other subject? Was it too much to hope for? Probably, yeah. Right then. Sammy snagged the bowl he’d been using earlier and a box of cereal, dragging them over before he answered. “Pretty much. I don’t think I like them.” He didn’t like them at all. “They need a trip to the dentist and some playtime with a file. Those teeth don’t really make me happy.”

"They do," Herbert agreed with a serious nod. "Don't make me happy, either." He held up his arm to show off the bite marks on the underside. "You really need to be careful, Sammy. These guys are... they're evil. And they're strong, and fast. I don't know what happened, but I really... you need to be careful." He didn't want anything happening to Sammy. "Your message really, really made me worry."

“Oh, yeah…that. I kind of figured that was bad to send after I sent it.” Sammy leaned forward to look at the bites on Herbert’s forearm, lower down than the ones that marked the inside of his own elbow. He cringed back, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about that. Really. And, seriously,” His fingers waved upwards at Herbert’s face again. “Do you want ice or anything? Or does it not hurt anymore...?” They looked like they would still hurt, Sammy decided as he poured out a bowl of Lucky Charms.

The werebear shook his head a bit. "I'm all right." Actually, he was stiff and sore and he thought the exertion of the ride over might've broken a few of the cuts open again-- oh, and the sight of food made him feel suddenly rather ill, but hey. That was still kind of "all right", right? It certainly wasn't something he needed ice for. "I guess you guys aren't going out to Chicago, after all...."

"No, no we're not," Sammy agreed, reaching for the sugar bowl next, pulling it over, the ceramic scraping against the countertop in an annoying way. Sammy made an aborted motion like he was going to cover his ears, then dropped his hands. "Our parents don't know, but our friends know not to expect us now. I kind of worried one of them, too. He's mad at me now."

Herbert completely understood that feeling. If it hadn't been Sammy, he would still be angry. Maybe. He picked the sugar bowl up lightly and set it away from Sammy. "You don't need more of that, you already smell like you're going to bounce right out of your shoes." Besides, the thought of adding more sugar to that cereal was making his poor tummy really tie itself in knots, as if afraid he'd be putting that in it. "I'm sure he won't stay mad. He was just afraid something had really happened to you. What did happen, Sammy?" Because he still didn't have a clear idea.

"Um. I went outside, like I said before..." Sammy cast a longing glance at the sugar bowl, then reached his free hand out for the milk, dragging it closer. "Then I saw someone walking up ahead, and even I know that you shouldn't really go too close to where gunshots were heard, so I went to catch up with the guy. Er. Linn. We're lab partners." The milk that spilled from the carton was brown - chocolate. "So the...vampires attack, and after munching on my arm they figure out they don't really want to eat me." He shoved a spoon into the bowl. "And...I got to make them stay away from Linn."

The thought that Sammy might've somehow had to do what Herbert had done made the werebear's stomach clench all over again, in a very different way than the fact that Sammy was eating his cereal with chocolate milk. And that was bad enough. "Sammy," he asked after another heavy swallow, "what did you have to do?"

Sammy shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth before he answered that question, grimacing at the taste of the food but swallowing anyhow. Sugar was good, since it meant he stayed up longer, right? "Couldn't change to battle-form," He admitted, rubbing at the countertop with his free hand. "Since Linn doesn't know what I am...had to kind play a kind of keep away, push 'em in front of things like, um...cars. And if they...'die', it's not murder, right, since they're dead?"

"I don't think pushing them in front of cars will even kill them," Herbert said wearily. "There's special things to do to kill vampires...." Like biting off their heads. "But... but yeah. It probably isn't. They would've killed you and your friend if you hadn't, anyway." Which he knew didn't help to hear, from personal experience, but what else could you say?

He didn't want to think about this anymore, it was hurting his head. Sammy scowled at his bowl of cereal for a moment before forcing a smile onto his face. "Want some good news, though? Itty-bitty bit of good news?"

Wishing he could just give poor Sammy a big hug and tell him he knew exactly how he felt, but not sure just what the raven-boy might think of that, Herbert nodded simply. "Good news is, rrrm, good?"

"It is." The cereal was tipped down into the sink quickly and the bowl set at the bottom before Sammy turned back to Herbert, a bit of genuine happiness lighting his eyes up. "The eggs started to hatch this morning. They have cracks in them!" Maybe soon there would be happy baby ducks wandering about.

"Oh, that is good news!" Herbert exclaimed, breaking into a real smile for what felt like the first time all day. Ducklings! Oh, now he didn't want to leave! "Can I see?"

Was there really any question about whether or not he could see them? Sammy tucked his notepad under an arm and waved for the other were to follow him into the laundry room. The same basket filled with blankets from before sat on the dryer and Sammy lifted it down carefully to set it on a little carpet square on the floor.

Herbert followed eagerly, and leaned down, bracing his hands on his knees, to get a better look. "When did they start cracking? How long do you think it'll be until they actually hatch?" What rotten timing-- Herbert would've wanted to be there, and now he wasn't sure he'd be able to. What if they hatched at night?

Sammy frowned, trying to force his racing mind to focus long enough to remember just when he'd come in and seen the hairline fractures cracking the shells. "Earlier. Like...five thirty? I think?" He reached out, touching his fingertip to a shell. "Don't know how long it'll take. The seem to be taking naps right now..."

Too wary of his big and sometimes-clumsy hands to try touching them, himself-- especially now, when he wasn't feeling as steady as he'd like-- Herbert just watched with a smile, looking away only long enough to read Sammy's response. "Will you call me when they actually do start to hatch?" he asked hopefully. "Or... text me? I think I've got it figured how to text, now, anyway." If it was during the day, he wanted to come over.

"I'll text. I'll definitely text." Sammy ducked his head to hide the semi-evil, but more mischievous gleam that lit his eyes as he thought about just what he would text to the other boy. That would be fun. "Don't know how long it'll be, but...yeah. I'll send you something to let you know to come over, right?"

Happily latching on to something not evil and horrible and full of blood and death, Herbert read the message with a bright smile. "I'll bring things to eat. Ducks are vegetarian, too, right? Errrm, we'll have to find out what they eat." Or, well, Sammy would. But Herbert would be happy to make it a joint effort! He put a big hand on Sammy's head and patted the braids gently. "This'll be great. Ducklings!" Life in the middle of all the death. He liked that quite a bit.