So much had happened in such a short period of time, it drained Darien in every possible way. It was hard for him to mentally comprehend all that had happened. Meeting others of his kind, which was his main goal in moving here in the first place though he was finding himself not really liking other Fae. Then there was those other people. Some good, some wickedly attractive and clearly not good for him (but he couldn't resist himself) and then those .. monsters. Hunters who stalked anyone who wasn't one of them or human. Thinking of his encounter with such one, he can feel the cut on his right cheek under his eye sting from the arrow that grazed it. It was healing, but it would scar and it was slightly red with a minor infection. "Fucking psycho."

With an ankle that was still sore from twisting it and his elbow wrapped in a support brace (not broken, but close the doctor had warned him). Bending it still hurt the worse of all his injuries, but not as much as his pride - and a growing hatred for these Hunter individuals.

The days that past, and then the weeks, there was always one person who was on his mind though. Laying in bed, doped up on Morphine from the Hospital and Ambien when there was nothing else to do, he was always on his mind.

Sebastian.

He had promised they would meet again and Darien had almost certainly become a recluse, making that as of late not possible. All he had was the piece of cloth Seb had given him with the letters S.E. on it, and he always had it with him. On this particular day, for whatever reason, be it some pity he felt for himself or a death wish, Darien decides to actually try and find Seb. He waits patiently until dusk, drifting in and out of a drug haze. He makes an effort to actually bathe himself and look presentable, with blue skinny jeans and his favorite red button up shirt. Wearing mismatched socks that could be seen with his trademark red shoes, he finishes it off with a cream jacket. He makes sure first he had everything; his cell, smokes, his prescriptions, keys, and of course that piece of cloth.

His best guess would be to go where they first met. At least the same neighborhood, which was a cesspool for sinful and illegal activities. Something Darien's rebellious self liked. But ever vigilant, he was a little on edge. Would that Hunter return? He mentioned some database that Darien was not in? Did that mean there would be others? He looked at every person with distrust, but looking for that familiar, elegant Sebastian still. He even walked by the bar they had met; nothing.

It was probably close to 10pm as he aimlessly wandered the streets filled with drunk college students and young adults. Darien himself was feeling his medication wear off, his ankle hurt and his elbow .. that damn thing, he couldn't bend it without cringing. He goes into a liquor store, buys himself a rather large bottle of Fireball Whiskey and once stepping outside and looking for any cops, he takes the cap off and takes a rather large drink of it, and nobody gave two hoots .. everyone was smashed, it was the weekend after all. He goes and sits on a bus bench, taking out a couple white pills and proceeds to take another swill with them before putting the bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag between his thighs. Feeling a little defeated and lonely, he pulls out that cloth with the initials of S.E. on it and stares at it .. caressing the letters, remembering that night, longing ... wishing. He sighs, leans back and just drinks. He people watches alone on that bench, fantasies running through his thoughts. Where are you? he thinks to himself, wondering if he should just go.