He knew what the Argentine was going to say, for the most part, before it was even spoken. While Andre may deny that Tyler had done anything wrong, Francisco would give validation to his own thoughts on the matter.

He waited several long moments for Francisco to speak, and waited even longer after he was done before opening his own mouth.

"Nice to see you too, Frannie." His eyes slowly open and he reaches for the glass of water to take a sip.

"I didn't let myself get drugged and tied up. He was in my apartment when I got there. I don't know how he got in." He eyes the silver case and frowns.

"You don't know?" Francisco removed his sunglasses, and let his eyes settle upon Tyler.

"That's the reason why you let this happen. You assumed you had somewhere safe to lay your head." He leaned closer. "You let yourself lose control. You do remember what I told you, ah?"

The silver case was held dearly, like a part of him, one finger stroking along the designs all the while.

"No, I don't know how he got in." He grimaces and shifts, trying to sit up further. "Why don't you remind me. I'm sure you're dying to anyway." Bringing his arm up, he covers his eyes and leans his head back.

"I made a mistake. He said that Andre would be a memory if I had Popeye for lunch. What was I supposed to do?"

"How the Hell am I supposed to know how he got inside? Your home has more entrances than a whore." Francisco's fingers worked along the edge of the case, closing in on the clasp that held them together.

"Are you aware of the effects of chromium on the human body? It's a very painful way to die, when you've used the proper type. It's much worse when you use a thinner, malleable, regal metal like silver as a casing, fire it into someone as a bullet from a sixty caliber handgun, and watch it break down inside them and leak into their systems if they don't explode from the bullet's entry in the first place."

Francisco reached into his jacket's inner pocket, and pulled free the massive, stabilizer-laden gun from within its depths. "This is what I use when I have to resort to the vulgarity of a gun."

The entire gun looked like something a king would wear; all silver and titanium fittings, engraved along the barrel and glimmering even in the faint light within the room. "It can literally blow a man's head off of his shoulders."

He let the barrel rest against his temple, along the tattoo."And yet, I despise it. Do you know why, Tyler?" For the first time, Francisco had actually called him by his name with a faintly serious air.

"Because it is not art to blow a man's head from his shoulders." He spoke with a reverence that would've cause most men in Tyler's position to fill that freshly changed catheter bag.

"Art is to bring a man to the height of what he can feel, and then tear it all away within the blink of an eye. That is what Reggie understands -misguidedly- about art, and that is what you fail to understand about Reggie. His threats are nothing more than a pinprick to the corners of your mind. He loves nothing more than tearing a person apart without ever touching them, watching them fall into becoming what they despise, and then granting them their wish when they fall to their knees, begging for it all to end. Do you understand what you face in Reggie, Tyler? What you cannot defeat in him?"

Francisco smiled like a nightmare, the dragon calling out in a furious clash of black inked jaws. "No matter what you do, you will give him what he wants."

"He does, and only because he knows that in any situation that you will be face to face with him, you won't touch a hair upon his head."

Francisco leaned back in his seat, and shook his head lightly. "In your wildest fantasies, perhaps."

The case was snapped shut, and returned to his jacket pocket.

"Your home is being outfitted as we speak. I sent my own team there, personally, to ensure that no entrance would be left to the wiles of that walking corpse."

He tossed a key ring, complete with three colored keys and a small card bearing a black strip, upon the comforter.

"Those are your new keys. Blue and the keycard for the front door. Red and keycard for the back. The small, yellow key will fit into the small, touch screen consoles behind your counter and inside your front door. Andre will know what they are and what they do, and how to set the system. Your lack of precautions is too great a liability, at this point."

"I would too. As long as Andre were safe, I'd take him out in a heartbeat and wouldn't even think twice about letting the wolf loose on him. You can take that to the bank." He gave a curt nod, then laughed at Francisco's response to his inquiry.

"Trust me, not my fantasies. You're a bit too... grunge for my taste. The stubble and all.." He crinkles his nose and leans back against the pillows as Francisco describes what was being done to Tyler's apartment.

"Aww, you do care about me. Don't want to hurt a hair on my pointy little head." He smiles and reaches for the keys. "Do I have to use the keycard and the keys in tandem?"

He held the keys in his hand and they reminded him of something you'd give a toddler to chew on in those terrible teething years.

"And why don't you tell me what the small yellow keys and touch screens are for? You're not leaving, are you? We were having such a wonderful chat."

"Your wolf is more easily tamed than you would like to realize, Tyler. And your appartment's outfitting was not what I had originally intended upon. I would have given you a gun and expected you to realize how much more practical it is than becoming a great, furry target."

He crossed one leg over the other at the ankle, a hand on either side of the chair.

"Card, then key within ten seconds of it. The consoles are more complicated things than I would care to go into at the moment. And the most important thing of all is that when you fire a gun, you must aim at the heart. If a man dies without knowing he's dead, what is the point in killing him?"

Francisco turned then, towards the door. "You have a guest coming, I believe."

Muscles belonging to his lower and upper jaw tightened. The contact there was tender, but nothing compared to what he felt less than a week ago.

"Si, primo. Te vieja bien." Was all he managed to say before he was gone.

Turning his head to watch his back vanish in the doorway, he turned back toward Tyler with a smile. "How are you feeling, Tyler?"

Tyler could smell Andre the moment that he strolled into the house. A slow smile curled his lips and he watched the door, anticipation getting the best of him. And when Andre made his entrance, blue eyes were nowhere else but on him.

His lower lip was sucked in between his teeth to hide the bigger smile of pride he had each time he looked at Andre. Sitting quietly, he waited for the cousins to finish speaking before opening his own mouth.

"Good night, Francisco. Have fun at your dinner."

He raised his hand and sketched a salute to Francisco's back. Then his eyes go back to Andre. He holds his arms out and sighs softly. "Much better. C'mere?"

His fatigue reduced his comprehension to selective listening. Instead, he moved to stand in front of the chair Francisco had abandoned. Caving in, his arms rested along the armrests, and a hand came to cover his forehead and eyes.

He was exhausted.

Rubbing at his eye sockets while his eyes were closed, he forced his eyes opened to look toward Tyler. "Father was a thrill. Lockdown was the best compromise I could get."

He laughed dryly, shaking his head. He sighed tiredly and heavily, relishing the comfort of the chair. He had nearly forgotten the likes of a bed.

Tyler's expression dropped as Andre sat in the chair. His arms fell to the comforter with a soft plop. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, when you've had some sleep. Come to bed, Bear. You're exhausted."

His tone was cool as he rolled onto his side. Grimacing, he was hoping to be comfortable but that damn catheter! He turns again and lays on his back, staring straight up at the ceiling.

He held up his index finger, and he forced himself to stand. He walked to his bedroom door, closing it. Glancing sidelong, he saw a suited man there with an earpiece. Expecting the such, he met eyes with him.

"I'm not to be disturbed. Goodnight."

The man walked toward him as Andre closed the door, standing in front of the door. His hands folded over his stomach, and he stood.

Walking back to collapse back into the chair, he sighed heavily again. Only for it to evolve into a pronounced yawn. "I'm unable to sleep there because of.." He nodded downwards, frowning.

He glanced about his room, smiling at the nearby armoire. He stood again, and walked toward it. "Wolf or not, you're not clean. When you're fully recovered, I can have my bed back."

Tyler watched Andre rise again and he shook his head. The short dialogue between the man on the other side of the door and Andre was noted and he shrugs.

"You can't sleep in your bed because of.. that?" he looked down into his own crotch and then back up.

"And what do you mean, I'm not clean? The damn nurse gave me a sponge bath. Get into your bed." Tyler flipped the covers back and sat up. Swiveling, his feet land on the floor. He reaches down and pulls the catheter out with a loud grunt. "D?ah!"

Somehow he manages to get to his feet.

Staggering, he walks to the bathroom and slams the door shut behind him. "I'll sleep in the damn bathtub! Take your bed back!" Tyler, to say the least, was not a very happy camper.

Andre brought a hand to his forehead again, sighing.

He did NOT need this. Not now.

Not after all the stresses and the lack of rest. Instead of opening the two doors of the armoires, he rested his hands on them. He knew he wouldn't open it. Not after Tyler's antics.

"Don't be like this. Please. Just..don't." He begged tiredly.

He pressed his forehead to the doors of the armoire. Within it was the teddy bear that was older than he was. It was Hers.

Tyler had turned on the water and was stepping into the shower when his knees gave way. Landing on the floor with a dull thud. He lay there for a moment.

"Some help in here, please?" He closes his eyes and balls his fists. "Andre, please!"