[h3] Cason [/h3] 

Cason had teleported carefully back under Esme’s head, clutching her to him a bit as she fought another nightmare.  This time tears fell from her eyes, which caused him to raise an eyebrow, before whisking them away with his thumb.  He gave a sad glance and then rolled his eyes, placing his hand against the side of her hair as he stared into the darkness of the room.

It seemed like an eternity before the sun came up, as he wasn’t used to going this long without a cigarette, or doing something to keep himself busy.  Not sleeping had its perks.  He could always finish a job, and never had to stop to sleep or eat.  But, it had a downside….boredom.

Before he knew it, Esme was stirring in what he thought was another nightmare, and he pulled her closer to him, stroking her hair.  However, she was actually awake.  He smirked, somewhat happy the human wasn’t dead or injured to the point of a coma.  When she scrambled from the bed and pulled a gun on him, he simply sighed, figuring this was like all the other times humans had the idea of killing him with a gun.  He simply held his hands up and smirked.

“Good mo-“, he started, as a bullet pierced his vessel’s head and brain causing a sharp scream to leave his throat.  He flipped off the bed and onto the floor, holding a shaky hand over the bullet hole in his forehead.  He had to admit it was a good shot, “What the hell is wrong with you?!  You can’t just shoot people!”

He heard her continue to yell at him as she stood against the wall.  His only instinct was to rush her and snap her neck, but he chose not to.  She still had a damn gun.  The bullet had lodged just in front of the back of his skull, which caused him to groan loudly, and slap the back of his head, moving the bullet to a spot where his body could expel it.

“You um…ah dammit!  You passed out in the hotel.  There was no one there that would have been able to keep you safe, while they scrambled all over the place.  So…I brought you here.”, he explained, wiping a bit of blood from his nose with another groan.  He stepped forward to her, holding his hands out, “I didn’t do anything to you if that’s what you’re worried about.  But why the hell would you shoot me?!  What have I ever done to you?!”

He reached forward and took the gun from her hand carefully, clicking the safety back on as the blood flowed down his face, his body having issues pushing the bullet out.  He slammed the gun down on the table beside her, grabbed his pack of cigarettes at the same moment, “I told you.  I owe you.”