a legacy of life [Ivan]

[Johnny Valentine]

Location : Washinton DC [in an alley]
Time : A little after midnight
Weather : Cool with a slight breeze.

[/font][/left]

A cold hand wrapped around his neck and lifted him straight off the ground. Black eyes bore into him as if the thing was trying to see his soul. Not that Johnny thought the B@*!tard would know what it would like if he saw it. His won warm fingers wrapped around the vampire's wrist trying to pull it from his neck. Breathing was becoming harder as his lungs burned in protest, but he refused to panic. Refused to believe that he wasn't going to walk away from this one. These things were unnatural, bred to kill, and needed to be put done. The dead shouldn't walk among the living. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

Growing bored the vampire through Johnny across the alley into a mixture of wooden boxes and trash cans. A hiss of pan fell from his chapped lips as pain shot across his side, but he didn't pay it any mind as he used the adrenaline to push himself back up. Brown eyes hard as his fingers wrapped around a piece of splintered wood. His own stake had clattered to the ground what felt like hours ago. Not that it mattered, he'd make due with what he had.

Never once did he noticed the blood gathering across the bottom of his black v-neck and the top of his pants. He didn't notice the pain that was trying to active his sense of flight instead of fight. All he could see was the vampire in front of him as he flipped the piece of crate over the top of his hand.

The vampire however noticed.

It came at him to almost to fast, but Johnny seemed to catch the blurred movement of something. He brought the splintered piece of wood up to his chest, and the alley echoed with the sickening sound of the wood sliding into the vampire. A smirk spread across his waist as he felt the warm blood coating his fingers.

"You missed," the cool breath spread across his skin as the vampire shoved him back. A load squelched filled the alley as the wood was pulled from the vampire.

His head head bounced off the brick wall behind him and he laughed. "Your still bleeding dumb-ass." He'd take the win where he could get it.

"So are you." The vampire was flat against him in the matter of seconds. A cold hand was against his side pressing and the next thing he knew he was screaming as white hot pain shot across his side. The vampire's free hand was the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground as his knees buckled. "I could have made it feel so good. Now, I'm going to make you burn."

Pain like he could describe shot though his body as two fangs dug into his neck. Brown eyes slammed shut and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming again. He'd given into the pain once he wasn't going to do it. Instead he focused on fighting the vampire. Trying to make this has hard as he could for the B@*!tard.

[Ivan Jones]

Ivan's nose caught the scent of freshly spilled blood. His spine snapped into place and he paused midstep to look towards the direction it came from. Two scents were carried in the breeze- the blood of a human and the blood of a vampire.

He found himself rushing towards the scent. He could only hope the person was still alive as he rounded the corner of the darkened alley and pulled out his gun; He didn't usually carry a stake. Luck would have it there was a stake laying on the ground, which Ivan quickly gathered into his hands as he neared the fight.

He assessed the situation as he entered the darkness, spotting two figures in the shadowed alleyway against the wall. The human was clearly fighting the vampire the best he could, and from what Ivan could tell, they'd been fighting for quite some time. He appeared to have stabbed the vampire with some sort of wooden object.

Ivan's inched himself closer to the fight and tried to remain quiet now, but he knew the vampire would at least be able to hear his heart beat, and sooner or later smell him. Ivan had come up downwind from the blood scent. It wasn't until he was closer that he recognized the human. Surprise flickered through his face but was quickly replaced with admonishment towards Johnny's predicament.

Johnny was a well known wild card in the Anomaly Unit. Even Ivan had heard of him inside the Werewolf Units. Had heard he was as stubborn as a bull and just as reckless. It was a wonder that despite the rumors and allegedly true stories that he was alive. But now, watching the man fight the vampire, Ivan could finally understand why someone so unwary could survive so long; he was stubborn. Really stubborn.

Ivan stopped short and waited to see if the vampire, or Johnny, noticed him. He'd only fought vampires a few times so he could honestly say he was going into this situation blind, and that made him uncomfortable. He preferred time to assess and plan for the best course of action.

Which right now, looked like lunging at the vampire while he was distracted by Johnny's neck. Ivan raced at the vampire, raising his arm to attack with the stake and hopefully get him off of Johnny. As he neared, a feral growl erupted from Ivan's throat.

[Johnny Valentine]

He could feel his own blood running down his neck, but he refused to stop struggling against it. Never once caring if the wiggling about was ripping his neck open more. All he wanted to do was to get his hands free. If he could them free he would have enough leverage to shove the B@*!tard back. Only the grip on his shoulders was iron clad and the only thing he could really move was his legs, but for some reason he couldn't manage to get them to work properly. No matter how hard he tried to get them up they just weren't working with him.

Finally he managed to get a hand free and he shoved at the vampire's face. All it managed to do was the vampire growling back in his face, fangs bared. He didn't waste a second as he slammed his head into the vampire's face. A proud smirk crossed his face as the vampire stumbled back. He used the wall to hold himself up as one of his hands came up to his neck. Blood slipped through his fingers as he tried to put pressure on his neck. The blood loss was getting to him. Already the sides of vision were starting to blur.

Through it all he forced himself to focus. Brown eyes dropped to the ground of the alley. All he needed was something sharp to shove between the B@*!tard's ribcage. He was pretty sure pieces of that crate should be around him, but somehow he seemed to farther from his fall. Of course the fog that was settling over his brain wasn't helping either way. He knew it wasn't good if he slowed down. Only he couldn't help it as more blood slipped through his fingers.

He forced a deep breath through his nose and made to dive for the closest piece of the broken crate. Mid-way through the air the vampire slammed back into him. They both went rolling across the floor of the alley through metal trash cans and more crates. At this point he the adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he wasn't feeling anything. Well, at least he wasn't until he was once again thrown against the wall. Blood soaking his shirt through the point it was sticking against his chest.

His combat foot were a few inches off the ground and he couldn't get a breath though his throat. Black spots danced across his vision, but he didn't stop struggling. Dull finger nails dug into pale skins, and he started to kick his feet. None of it stopped until the vampire slammed him back against the wall. His vision swam as his entire body went slack. It wasn't that he gave up, but his body just couldn't go anymore.

Somewhere in the background he heard something, but his depth perception was beyond off. In fact the only thing he did notice was when the vampire was pulled forcibly from him, and his body fell like a sack of potatoes.

[Ivan Jones]

Ivan knew he had to make quick of taking care of the vampire, but he was struggling to get a hold of the thing long enough to drive the stake into his chest. He'd managed to get the jump on the creature and pulled him off Johnny just as the man seemed to be going unconscious. Ivan knew if he didn't do this job quickly, the other agent could die.

The vampire dodged him a few times after escaping his hold, in turn striking at Ivan with a force he hadn't anticipated. He had to give credit to the vampire slayers of the Anomaly Unit, it was really tough! He'd never really thought much on how vampires fought and how they aged like wine- getting better, and smoother with time. This one had done quite a number on Mr. Bullheaded. The vampire was beginning to do a number on Ivan.

The vampire finally lunged at him with an opening wide enough that Ivan could get the stake into the bloodsucker's heart. The weight of the vampire forced him back as he ran into the sharp point. Ivan pushed forward as the vampire began gasping in surprise. With the stake already embedded into his chest, once Ivan pushed hard enough a final gasp for life fell from the vampire's lips before he went completely limp. Death had taken him permanently this time.

Ivan's eyes flickered over its form curiously. This would be one of the few vampires Ivan had ever fought. It was the first he'd ever killed. A tingle of victory crept up Ivan's spine and he felt himself grinning momentarily in surprise and pleasure, before reality jolted him out of his cloud nine.

Johnny was still bleeding to death nearby.

Ivan rushed to the human in a slight panic and examined his injuries. He was losing a lot of blood, and he wouldn't be surprised if there was more damage but the neck wound was by far the worst. Ivan pulled off his own jacket and pressed it into Johnny's neck to put pressure on the bleeding while stumbling around his pockets for his cell phone with a free hand. He surveyed the alley entrances as he dialed 911 for an ambulance for the other agent.

The ambulance arrived quicker than Ivan could have hoped for and the medics were quick to replace Ivan's dirty jacket with better cover and pressure. Once they checked his vitals, they loaded the unconscious man up and into the ambulance.

Ivan rode with the ambulance to make sure Johnny survived...Although, considering the man had stories about his stubbornness, he doubted even Death would be able to take Johnny before "it was time." Based on what he'd heard, Johnny would probably punch Death in the face and stake the h*ll out of him.

Stubborn fool.

Ivan's gaze returned to Johnny's now comfortably resting form. They'd stabilized him and patched him up. He had not seen most of the fight, so he'd simply told the medics it was a bad fight with something sharp. He told them he hadn't seen the fight for very long to identify what had gotten his neck, but he was pretty certain the doctors knew as well as he did that it was something with teeth that did the fighting, not just "something sharp."

Ivan could guess about what had happened to Johnny. The medics had looked at his neck and kept it from bleeding, and in the better lighting Ivan had seen what looked like an animal mauling on the agent's neck. He'd thrashed around to get away from the vampire, but that only aggravated the injury more. It also aggravated the vampire more, which explained the bumps and bruises riddling the man's flesh. A natural response to teeth in a person's body, Ivan knew. His eyes wandered down to his arms and over his legs, recalling only bits and pieces of the mauling that had changed his life forever.

He'd been lucky to escape with only a few scars from his attack. His arm had a clear set of teeth marks lining his veins, and over his chest and on one leg even thicker, scarier looking scars marred his flesh. Only three distinct scars from his past.

Ivan found his hand running over his arm with the scar as he sunk into the seat beside Johnny's bed. His eyes slid down with exhaustion as his body sagged with sleepy weight. As tired as he felt, he wanted to be there when Johnny woke up to find out what happened. He considered offering to write up the report for Johnny so the man could recover from the attack; he doubted Johnny would take kindly to help. He probably mistook help for pity.

He felt his head shaking at the other agent in irritation. There was a reason the unit had teams- for help. Everyone needed help sometimes, and working as a team got things done faster and with less casualties...But Johnny didn't seem to know or understand that, based on the stories.

His eyes remained on the unconscious man's resting form. Rumor had it Johnny's actions were out of some personal vendetta against vampires, that he had to destroy them by any means possible. Ivan frowned as deeper concern developed towards his colleague. This man is a fool if he's going to continue rushing into these fights like this. How is he not dead? he wondered. Or maybe he hopes death is the outcome.

A worried chill tickled the skin on Ivan's neck as he continued to patiently wait for his colleague to awaken.

[Johnny Valentine]

All he was going to do was close his for just a second. They were so heavy at the moment. If he closed them for just second he could gather his wits about him and push himself of the ground of this dirty alley. Just a few seconds to get the spinning and twirling under control he could push himself up. The only problem was right before he closed his eyes the dark spots were back dancing in front of his face. His problems only started there. The second he closed his eyes the spinning didn't start to sub-side, in fact it got worse.

He pressed the hand on his neck a little harder against the wound to give him that jolt of pain. Falling asleep would be bad. Even through the fog settling over his brain he knew that sleep would be bad. No one knew he was here. This wasn't just lead on some case that had turned against him. If that was the case he'd have at least called in his location. Problem was this call had come from a informant that worked off the record completely. The Anomaly Unit had no idea Johnny knew this person. It was one step closer to finding answers to a case that wasn't even his. Someone knew about that night over a decade ago, and sooner, or later, he'd make one sing.

The battle to stay awake was one he was loosing and fast. His blood was rushing in his ears, and the sounds from the city seemed to far away. Somewhere through the fog he found himself questioning while the vampire wasn't going to finish him off. Asking himself what the bloodsucker was for. Only he didn't get those answer because even the pain started to fade away as body went numb. Before he knew he was slumped against the wall and his hand fell from his neck as he blacked out.

---------

The next clear memory that Johnny had was the sound of this beeping noise that just wouldn't go away. He knew it wasn't his alarm clock because he didn't own one. Every day at the same time Lola woke him up with the need to walked. It was the same time seven days week. So the true question was what in the hell was making that damn noise?

There was an urge somewhere in his gut to start panicking, but years of living with a cop had taught him better than that. Instead he attempted to crack open one of his eyes. Only problem was it was so bright he was forced to close it again and wince. The movement caused pain to shoot across his neck through the rest of the sleep fog across his brain, and just like that he started to come back to him.

It left him with one single conclusion: he was in the hospital.

A low groan fell from his lips as he forced himself to finally sit up in the hospital bed. There were three places in this whole world he did not go: to church, to his brother's place, and to the hospital. He was in fact one of those people would rather bleed to death than spend a second in the hell hole known as the hospital. He didn't need someone fluttering over him asking him seven thousand times if he was okay. Generally people nearly had there throats ripped weren't okay, but Johnny was use to looking like he'd been once over by a meet cleaver.

Not letting his brown eyes open very far this time he moved his hand to the nurse call button. He'd woken up in this damn place enough in the last five years to known where it was by feel. AMA (or Against Medical Advice) was more than just his friend. He already knew the rules. Don't the get the stitches wet, don't pick at them, and come back in a few weeks to get them pulled. This wasn't his first rodeo.

"I guess I have you to thank for this trip to sterile land," his voice was hardly above a growl as he spoke. His throat was raw, which meant he'd been out for a while. Not to mention he hurt a bit to speak so the drugs were starting to wear off, it was probably why he woke up. All for the better so he could get home and out of here.

Finally his brown as shifted to see who exactly was sitting in the room next him. He might not have vampire hearing and the noise of a wolf, but he knew when his space was being invaded. It was a defense mechanism from years of fighting, and five of hunting creatures that make little to no sound when they move. "And by the Mr. Do Right himself." He'd have rolled his eyes but the pain medication was nearly out of his system. Twelves years of street fighting and five years of hunting vampires, his body had a tolerance to this shit.

[Ivan Jones]

Ivan was battling sleep when a voice brought him to attention. "I guess I have you to thank for this trip to sterile land." His eyes slid to the form in the hospital bed and up to the man's face. He was awake, and based on the first comment not very happy about it either. His voice sounded awful. Like his voicebox had met a cheese grater.

"And by the Mr. Do Right himself." Johnny added once he seemed to come to all his senses and look at him. The whiteness of these rooms was pretty alarming for patients...They really ought to use a more mellow color.

Mr. Do Right. He'd heard that nickname only a few times, but had honestly hoped it didn't honestly apply to him. It did. He accepted that and moved on quickly, choosing to dismiss it and instead look around the bright room.

Ivan's eyes flickered up the glaring bright lights and then back to Johnny. It was really a contrast compared to the lightness of the room; here they were in "sterile land" as Johnny had affectionately called it and there he was scowling bitterly and there Ivan was sitting tiredly. Sterile shouldn't mean miserable.

"The first name is Ivan," he replied finally with a slight smile before letting it drop completely. "I brought you here. You were going to die."

Ivan sat up and stretched his arms over his head and then let them drop back in the chair. "That vampire did a number on your neck, Sir," he informed the injured agent. "And from what I've heard, this isn't the first time you've been in a situation like this." His tone was that of a concerned colleague's. He needed to know and understand why someone of Johnny's capabilities was so...foolish in these missions.

Ivan frowned, the concern he felt showing in his features. "If you keep up this routine, you're gonna be in here again soon...but in a much colder place." His tone is blunt, but not with the intention to sound cruel. He sounded factual, accepting...but it was pretty clear he as bothered by Johnny's actions. His eyes said it all.

[Johnny Valentine]

'The first name is Ivan. I brought you here. You were going to die.'

This time he found the energy to roll his eyes. He was all to aware what the werewolf's names was. Just like the whole Anomaly Unit knew that he was suppose to be some golden boy. Apparently the wolf had some sort of long sad back story of being mauled back in the civil war, and was forced to become a beast once a month. Whatever. It didn't stop the fact that Ivan Jones was a monster. By choice or not the man was dangerous. Which gave him sort of insight into the mind of criminals they were fighting. None of which he was sure that personally he needed. Johnny didn't hunt wolves anyways. His beef was with the vampires.

"Dying is a hazard of our job, dude." It was just bullets that the agents had to watch out for when they went out to patrol an area; it was claws, fangs, and creature that could move at the speed of sound. He bit past the pain as he forced himself to sit up. Bruises were probably littered across his already dark skin. Somewhere in the fog of the painkillers he remembered getting thrown around the nasty ass alley. Considering the nasty filling spreading across his neck he hadn't exactly laid there and took it. It explained why his voice sound like it was being dragged over barb-wire.

'That vampire did a number on your neck, Sir. And from what I've heard, this isn't the first time you've been in a situation like this.'

Sir, he couldn't help but snort. What a polite fuzzy B@*!tard. Sir. For the second time he rolled his eyes, only this time he slightly regretted. Small black spots followed the movement. AMA, probably wasn't the best way for him to go since he had lost a lot of blood, but he didn't do hospitals. He'd take a few days off and catch up on paperwork, at home. Relax with his dog before he went back into the field or the office. As much as the suits wanted his ass riding a desk he got results. Even one day he'd pay for them in his own blood.

'If you keep up this routine, you're gonna be in here again soon...but in a much colder place.'

"Dude, I'm high on painkillers still, just say it in plain English. One day Johnny letting vampires snack on your neck'll get you killed." He turned his gaze back to Jones and the look he gave him was dry and bored. "I'm aware of that thank you for the concern. Death is sort of the point of life. The point B to our being born. All that matter is how a person goes down," and in Johnny's case it would be fighting.

[Ivan Jones]

"Dude, I'm high on painkillers still, just say it in plain English. One day Johnny letting vampires snack on your neck'll get you killed. I'm aware of that thank you for the concern. Death is sort of the point of life. The point B to our being born. All that matter is how a person goes down," the human replied in a callous tone. Ivan felt his eyes narrowing in anger and his hands gripping the armrests a little too tightly.

All that mattered was how he went down? Fighting stupidly? Bull. Ivan knew that dying at war wasn't all it was cracked up to be by witnessing it happen to much. He knew going down fighting didn't mean death, nor was it all that amazing. He didn't understand how people could believe going down fighting was the way to go. It absolutely was not. There was no rest letting the bogeyman rips its fangs and claws through you. There was no rest for those who died in battle.

Ivan believed he'd learned this the hard way. Unfortunately he was stuck in the position of having to either commit suicide when it was his time...or bite the bullet in a fight. It felt like hypocrisy, and he'd give anything to return to his more fragile human state.

The state that, to Ivan, Johnny seemed keen on forsaking.

The sound of of the cloth tearing indicated his anger. He took a moment to remove his hands from the chair and stuffed them into his pockets, figuring if he was going to destroy something it shouldn't be hospital furniture. He pulled himself to his feet and stood over Johnny's form. Dark eyes met dark eyes as he spoke, his tone less gentle than he intended as he spoke. "And what of those who don't get the luxury of meeting point B? Will you turn to the sun when a vampire snacks on your neck again and decides you're too valuable to die?"

Ivan recalled his service in the Civil War. He remembered distinctly believing he'd be returning home to his brother, his parents, a girl he'd hoped to court someday. He'd had dreams of being someone important and making an impact on the world he lived in. Ivan was going to be somebody- no, Thomas had planned on being somebody.

And then he became Ivan. Instead of returning to his family, to some neighborhood crush, to his dreams he'd lost everything dear to him. Death eluded him. People feared him. He feared himself and lost himself for nearly a century and a half.

But it had slowly come back to him. He remembered bits and pieces of who he was until he was whole again. Ivan never reclaimed his old life; a century under Ivan recreating himself had changed him enough that to be Thomas again was wrong. Thomas had died 146 years ago when that wolf ripped his teeth into his flesh.

Ivan thrived in Thomas's place.

Life gave him lemons. He made his lemonade. Ivan's eyes softened again as he shook his head. "You seem to forget the amount of people who don't get the chance to live their lives and die. If you were turned into a vampire or a werewolf, are you sincerely telling me you'd surrender your life? You'd give up trying to make a difference?" Ivan's voice rose a few decibels until he was yelling at the man. "You're telling me that the point of life is death? That our purposes in the Unit is to get to Point B faster? What about helping the innocent? If the point of life is to die significantly, then why don't you go kill yourself in another poorly planned fight, Johnny?!"

Ivan abruptly pressed his hand into the bandage around his necki, hoping to remind him how much dying actually hurt. He hoped Johnny knew that even an honorable death was miserable. "Dying isn't something most people consider to be the Point B in their lives. So why don't you get your life back into order and get your priorities straight, or next time I'll make sure that the agents know you're almost at the point B in your life and you will be on that f*cking slab for the rats. And no one will say, At least he reached his point B. They'll say, What a stupid fool."

Ivan pulled his hand away and stayed over Johnny for a few moments before moving towards the door with an audible exhale. He was done. Ivan didn't really understand why he felt the need to help Johnny, or at least felt obligated to tell him his definition of Point B was dumb...but he had to. He'd absolutely needed to tell Johnny something.

A few faces from the war flickered through his head suddenly, and Ivan acknowledged each of them. Johnny had reminded him of old friends who, in the name of the war, rushed into battle without a thought...and died. He exhaled again as he recalled closing the lids of his closest friend then, who had raced out into the open to draw the enemy out. A sniper took him out before he cleared the trees. A stupid move that had cost his best friend his most valuable possession: life.

Ivan took a second to gather himself before looking back over the human. "Get well soon." He turned to leave Johnny alone finally.

[Johnny Valentine]

"And what of those who don't get the luxury of meeting point B?"

What did that have to do with him? It wasn't his fault life had screwed with Ivan, had screwed some of others inside the Anomaly Unit. The suits wanted to hire things like the wolf looming over him that was their business, but when one of them turned it would be Johnny who would be laughing. He didn't like them being inside the organization at all. In fact he really didn't care if they gave them some sort of advantage, insight, or whatever crack pot reason the suits spat out. It wasn't good for business to hire the very things you are hunting. Johnny was suppose to be the risky one inside the agency, and even he wasn't crossing that line.

'Will you turn to the sun when a vampire snacks on your neck again and decides you're too valuable to die?'

The tone in Ivan's voice didn't really have the desired affect that the wolf wanted. Growing up in the Valentine house hadn't exactly been a cake walk. His father had been a cop who had raised his boys as small rookies, and Johnny had been the youngest. That tone had been one he'd heard more times than he could count. It meant he really wasn't afraid of it. His father had growled all of the time when either of his sons hadn't done right by him, and his brother always growled about everything. Now even more so since he was a hack cop whose baby brother had a bigger badge. Since their father's murder the Valentine boys had been at each other's neck.

'You seem to forget the amount of people who don't get the chance to live their lives and die. If you were turned into a vampire or a werewolf, are you sincerely telling me you'd surrender your life? You'd give up trying to make a difference?'

He had never asked for this job. Those people they came to him that night in the industrial district and asked him to join. Making a difference was a by product of what he was here to do. When he'd been given this job it was under the pretense of revenge and payback. Those had been their words not his, and they were reaping exactly what the sewed. He'd been happy doing his lone ranger routine for no money, and moonlighting as a mechanic and mister fix-it. This whole protect and serve thing was crock. It got people killed a lot faster than just living; gotten his father killed. Man was a hero on the streets back home.

'You're telling me that the point of life is death? That our purposes in the Unit is to get to Point B faster? What about helping the innocent? If the point of life is to die significantly, then why don't you go kill yourself in another poorly planned fight, Johnny?!'

Pain shot down his back as Ivan pushed on his neck. It was enough to send him flying out of the hospital bed, ripping the IV out of his hand. Dark eyes harden as he glared back at the wolf. "I didn't ask for this job, Jones. Didn't sign up to protect shit. They wanted me. Not other goddamn way around."

'Dying isn't something most people consider to be the Point B in their lives. So why don't you get your life back into order and get your priorities straight, or next time I'll make sure that the agents know you're almost at the point B in your life and you will be on that f*cking slab for the rats. And no one will say, At least he reached his point B. They'll say, What a stupid fool. Get well soon.'

"You don't know a damn thing about me, you son of a b#*ch. Just because the whole F*cking agency knows your a war hero doesn't make me give a shit what you have to say," because his father had been a war hero and he still had to earn the respect of those on his beat. "This is what my family does." They die in the line of duty. His grandfather had died in the war and left behind a pregnant wife. Then his father had died while on duty because of a vampire. If he had in luck at all his brother would do something note worthy in his pathetic life than hang on the legacy of his father, and Johnny would die finally making their father proud. He would die on the shield.

"So your big talk to Agent who didn't grow a cop kid. With big eyes and wet ears. Not all of us can be saints, Jones." Some of us were born sinners. For the second time his hand hit the nurse call button. He had a dog to feed, paperwork to fill out, and a mother to call. Even all the way out here she still had her ways of checking up on your baby boy. Someone by now had told the old women he was in the hospital. Which was the last thing her bad heart needed on top of whatever stupid ass thing is brother has done lately.

[Ivan Jones]

Ivan paused at the door and listened to Johnny. His frown deepened as the man spoke, but he kept his mouth shut to think his words through more carefully. He had spoken out of line, he knew, but it seriously bothered Ivan to see someone as valuable as Johnny act so stupidly. Point B? That still stung at Ivan's mind. Living to die was a terrible way to live.

"I didn't ask for this job, Jones. Didn't sign up to protect shit. They wanted me. Not other goddamn way around." Ivan turned and looked at the man, his expression stubborn.

"Then why'd you take the job? I'm pretty certain that you can decline job offers as much as you can accept them," he asked in a sturdy tone, his head tilting to the side curiously. If Johnny hadn't wanted this job, why the hell had he taken it? As far as he knew, there were several people who had declined working for the Anomaly Unit.

"Even if you didn't sign up to protect shit, and they only wanted you for whatever reasons...wouldn't dying be a total waste? It would. You know that. Whatever your reasons for accepting this job, you've agreed that this job is worth your f*cking time," he added. "Even if "they just wanted you" you obviously felt some sort of rightness with the job if you accepted it. Something about the Anomaly Unit's fight struck a chord with you." Ivan's eyes narrowed once more and his frown deepened as he realized something, but he didn't say it aloud. Johnny wasn't fighting for point B- to get to die fighting- there was something else there. Why had he joined the Unit again? A vengeance reason, wasn't it?

Ivan shrugged off his thoughts and spoke once more. "People need you alive Johnny, whether you like it or not. And no family I know lives to make it to Point B...most families, most people have purposes..." He bowed his head and glanced at the door and then a final glance to Johnny. "Even if those purposes are violent, they are not living to die."

He was silent for a few moments as he once again evaluated his words. "I have spoken out of line, I'm aware. I don't know you, you're right. I apologize, but the sentiment remains. People need you alive...Whether you fight to die or not, you have saved lives and stopped future deaths...and I cannot accept that your goal is to get to Point B. Nobody honors the dead who lived foolishly," Ivan finished and exhaled, waiting for Johnny to respond. "Your family wouldn't honor you if your sole purpose was fighting to die, would they?"

[Johnny Valentine]

'Then why'd you take the job? I'm pretty certain that you can decline job offers as much as you can accept them.'

Because why not? It wasn't like it was a stretch from what he did in his free time. Only now he was getting paid for it and it wasn't considered some sort of freaking obsession. Now it was considered taking his work home with him and fighting the good fight. People could call it whatever they wanted to, but in the end he was getting paid for a little bit of revenge. The suits needed him to even the playing field and to give him the jobs no one else wanted. He didn't mind being the pawn. It had gotten a pretty nice apartment in the city.

The longer Ivan talked the more he could feel his blood pressure raise, and hear it as the monitor to his right kept the measure with steady beats. All of it was given him a huge headache. He just wanted out of this hell hole. The sheets were making his skin itch and the sterile walls were blinding him. He needed his own, open, loft apartment that smell of cigarettes and leather. To curl up with ESPN blaring in the background and Lola curled up on her pillow by the couch. Not here having a werewolf tell him how to live his life. It was the same life he'd been living before become Agent Johnny Valentine.

Why should having a badge change anything?

'I have spoken out of line, I'm aware. I don't know you, you're right. I apologize, but the sentiment remains. People need you alive...Whether you fight to die or not, you have saved lives and stopped future deaths...and I cannot accept that your goal is to get to Point B. Nobody honors the dead who lived foolishly.'

"I don't want to be honored," the words slipped out of his throat in a growl. He was officially done with this place and this conversation. Calloused fingers pulled the heart monitor off his finger and moved to the IV steadily dripping whatever into his veins. This wasn't the first time he'd woken up in this hospital, and he'd bet good money it wouldn't be the last. Most of the staff were use to his gruff nature.

'Your family wouldn't honor you if your sole purpose was fighting to die, would they?'

"Sweet god, wake up Jones!" Not once did he care he could be bothering other people. If they didn't want him being a pain they should bring him the goddamn paperwork already. "In your time your family may have stuck together, but mine didn't. It crumbled and fell years ago. Welcome to reality. Your not the only who woke up and lost everything." Ignoring the pain in his neck or the spinning in his head as he threw his legs over the edge of the bed.

[Ivan Jones]

Ivan felt his eyes narrow again but he closed them after a moment and shook his head. "I haven't lost everything," he mumbled. "I still have my beliefs. I still have my will to live..." His eyes flickered over Johnny's heart monitor and then the bandages around his neck.

Ivan said nothing more past that. He had not lost everything. At least, nothing that he'd developed as part of his character. He still had his personal beliefs, he still had his memories and he still could fight the good fight which is all he'd wanted to do growing up a century and a half ago. He may have lost his family, but he hadn't lost himself.

Ivan was silent for a few moments before glancing again at the door, and then back to Johnny. "I hope you heal soon." Ivan felt frustrated with himself and with Johnny's actions. He still felt that the man's actions were stupid- a death wish. But he'd said all he felt he could say.

OOC: Short, sorry :/

[Johnny Valentine]

His dark eyes searched around the hospital room for his clothes. It was only a matter of time of seconds before one the nurses came in to see what all the noise was about. Not to mention the fact his monitor was flat lining. Of course, it was his first morning of waking up in here. It was a different room every time, but it was the same routine every time he woke up: groan, push the call button, and get dressed. It was probably the reason there was no rush to his room when his monitor flat-lined. Dumb thumb clip was usually the first that went.

'I haven't lost everything. I still have my beliefs. I still have my will to live...'

Johnny scoffed as he forced himself off the bed and toward the chair holding his now folded clothes. "Well good for you." He'd been raised inside a family of cops and stay at home mothers. The men his family lived and died on the shield. Even if they vowed they'd not live by the badge, or go anywhere near the idea. The people of the Anomaly Unit seemed to be really good at finding a man's weakness. For Johnny it was his father's case. A case they promised his access to once he showed results. Results they got when the cells started to fill up in the weeks after he'd been given his office. What they did with the blood suckers after that wasn't his problem.

'I hope you heal soon.'

The only answer he gave was a grunt as Johnny started to change. He'd take a couple of days off to let whatever medication out of his system before he was back to work. Between his gruff nature and lack of emotions he really doubted anyone would be looking to closely at him. Even if Jones when to his boss about what happened. There would be an ass chewing for him, but he was good at tuning the man out by now.

Fumbling slightly he finally managed to get his shirt buttoned up by the time the werewolf was leaving. He was going to have to spend extra time in the training room if his ass was getting saved a wolf. What was the Unit thinking starting to hire these things inside the teams. On of these times they were going to hire the wrong sort, and then all Hell was going to break loose. The vaults were getting full. To the point there was talk of going deeper.

'Mr. Valentine?'

Looking up from his cuffs he glanced up at the nurse standing in the doorway with a file in her hand. "S'about damn time," he held his hand to sign the papers. "Next time no visitors. They do nothing for my blood pressure."

'Heaven forbid.'

He handed the papers back and grabbed his jacked. "See you next week," for the first time he cracked a smirk.