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Oh, s**t.

Oh s**t, oh s**t, oh <******** you," Caelean snarled at the figure in the doorway--if they wanted rude they'd get ******** rude. And anyway, saying the same thing over again didn't make it mean anything more to him, but he was definitely going to remember, because he was going to learn everything he could about this place.

Caelean was not exactly an intellectual, sure, but he was powerfully angry, and also, he had to start making plans for when they got out, or he'd start worrying that they never would.

"Hey--Thorne, no--" he reached out to try and stop him from slamming into the door. "You're hurt enough already, don't..."

Ah, it hardly mattered. He sank down onto the floor himself, shaking his head.

"I wasn't going anywhere alone. I told you. I came here after you. Kinda pointless if I just left you behind, yeah?"

"Well, yeah. Of course I was gonna come." Caelean shrugged, like it didn't matter, like it was such an obvious statement that it didn't even bear any further examination.

Except it did. Obviously.

Caelean couldn't pretend the question totally caught him off guard. It was sort of a fair one, all things considered. He'd apparently thrown himself into--if not Hell, certainly Hell's general neighborhood, for someone that didn't exactly treat him the way all the stories said a lover was supposed to treat you.

Caelean wrapped his arms around his legs, huddling up and letting his ears drop.

"I don't give a s**t about your dad, or his dad. Just--you're the first person who's ever wanted me around." He huffed. "Kinda pathetic, I know, but....it matters to me. That you wanted to keep me, even with all the arguing and the bullshit, and not just throw me away as soon as I stopped being exactly what you wanted from me."

Caelean couldn't see Thorne moving towards him, but he could hear it, and he moved towards the sound, and let himself shift so that he was practically curled up against Thorne's chest.

"Yeah, well," he said, "I don't want better. I want you." He slid his arms around Thorne, and pulled him close. "And you're stuck with me now, so good ******** luck."

They still had to find a way out. They were still held prisoner by someone who was clearly an enemy of not just Thorne's father, but probably all of vampirekind.

But he'd found Thorne, and next time they met whoever had been torturing him, they would meet them together. That had to be worth something.

Caelean took a deep breath, breathing in Thorne’s scent. This….for everything about the situation they were in that was undeniably wrong, this felt right. Holding Thorne and being held, pressed together like this—these moments, the quiet ones, where they both stopped biting at each other and just….were, together—this was why Caelean had agreed to be Thorne’s mate, and not just kept him at arm’s length, a fun hookup to come back to the way he could have been.

Thorne wanted him. He wanted Thorne. And no cowardly, darkness-hiding ******** with a grudge against Thorne’s family was going to pull them apart. Not now.

“Yeah, yeah, I followed you home and now you’re stuck with me,” Caelean said, dryly.

The kiss felt like warmth, like what Caelean imagined the sun must feel like for Faekats that weren’t at risk of burning to ashes by standing in it. He brought a hand up to cup Thorne’s cheek and leaned into it, like he could pour everything he was feeling out of his heart and into Thorne’s with one messy, intense kiss.

He could have held it forever. Wanted to, honestly. But he pulled back, eventually, and pressed their foreheads together.

“Not to sound absolutely insane, but we should have kids. When we get out of here. It’d be—really nice.”

Caelean barked out a laugh--there was only so much real humor in it, strained as this place made him feel, but it was there.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said, and he exhaled. It would probably be a mess. He was half-sure he had other kids out there--from long before he met Thorne, and he certainly hadn't had any kind of involvement with them, really. Whatever they were doing was firmly Not His Problem.

Not great, that; a reflection of parents who had shown no interest in him. A father who only wanted fodder for Clan Gangrel, a mother whose eyes were far and away elsewhere. But this would be a second chance. A do-over with someone he wanted to be with, forever; a chance to be better than he'd been and better than his parents.

"But we gotta get out of here if we're gonna do that."

It wasn't instantaneous, but it did happen fairly quickly after Thorne made his plea. A heaviness in the air, the darkness that somehow became darker, and then a voice, deep and rumbling through the air as the God of Vampires appeared before them both out of a void of inky blackness.

"For you, Thorne, as for any of my children who would need aid."

He moved towards them when he could, his eyes blazing bright with anger, frustration, and perhaps even a hint of fear, something few would have seen before.

"What a mess you have gotten yourself into." Maybe it wasn't fair of him to say as much, given that there was a very good chance Thorne and Calaen were only here because of Grendel. But the words were not spoken with the same intense anger that shone in his gaze. It was just a statement and not one that required an answer. He leaned down and placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

In the next moment, they were gone; all three were transported to a sitting room in the temple of vampires, where Thorne had been invited to meet with his family all those weeks ago. Perhaps if he had stuck around and not snuck off, Grendel might have had a chance to speak with him then, to know him, and to lend him the same protection he had given the others.

The room was warm, and the couches and chairs appeared plush and cozy, with colourful throw pillows scattered about. A fire burned in a stone hearth against one wall, and tapestries decorated the walls. It was a stark contrast to the cell they had found themselves in. Here, Grendel stood up straighter and regarded them both. Thorne appeared to be the one in the worst shape of the two. Grendel summoned two goblets, filled to the brim with warm vitae, quite fresh, and if they drank from them, they would find it just as good as getting it straight from the source.

"Drink." He said, offering it to both of them, though his gaze rested on Thorne, a command directed at him. Still, one that was not without care. "And you can tell me what happened when you are feeling well enough."

Thorne had, quite honestly, not expected a response at all. He didn’t even know if his words would even carry to his father’s ear. But when darker shadows filled the room he felt a heavy weight lift off of his chest as he realized he had been holding his breath.

“Yea, yea.” Was his response to Grendel’s statement. Yes it was his fault. It was always his fault. He had opened the box after all. After Caelean had tried to stop him.

Once they had been transported to the sitting room however he finally let it go. Not wanting to breath and somehow that effecting their chances of getting out of there. The temple wasn’t home but he knew with Grendel here it was one of the safest places to be. Maybe he didn’t know his father all that well. And maybe Thorne didn’t really believe he actually cared much about his children at all.

It still nagged at him that the God was trying to come in late to the game and smooth things over. Maybe that was part of Ravnos’s doing who knew? Thorne barely knew him too but Cassius seemed enthralled by him. Almost worshipped him. And while he and his brother rarely ever got along Thorne could admit, in a room when no one else was around, that Cassius was usually a good judge of character.

The light of the fireplace hurt his eyes only momentarily. Even with improved vision in the dark being in that inky darkness left his eyes watering for only a moment. Taking the offered chalice and moving to one of the nearby sofas before he collapsed onto it. Pulling Caelean along with him and to the couch. He didn’t want the other Vampire too far away from his reach.

Thorne drank the entire contents of the chalice. Black eyes staring at his father over the rim. He didn’t need to be told twice. Already he was feeling better physically. Fingers wrapped around Caelean’s wrist tight. When he had finished he leaned the cup against his knee. “Who….the ******** is Scarlet Queen?” It was a name he had geared tossed around and while unfamiliar Thorne had pieces together what he could during his time locked up. Whoever this was sounded like bad news. Not just for him, or Grendel, or the family. But for all Vampires.