[ Truth be told, Martin can only think of a handful of genuinely restful nights he’s had in a very long time. He’d almost needed a second hand to count another – so of course something goes amiss. It wasn’t the whir of electricity winding down, and the backs of his lids had rivaled the dim light casting in from the blinds, but when he rolled onto his side and felt nothing but a dip in the mattress, he’d jolted awake with a gasp. The sound of a body hitting against something in the hallway makes him reach for the bedside table, where he grabs the heavy metal torch he’d found.

It casts a rather weak, flickering beam. Unfortunately, the pathetic beam makes Adrian's act of benevolence look anything but. Martin's not sure what the hell he's walked in on, and his fingers reflexively tighten on the torch. Something about the crouching man feels mildly problematic? God, he'd just wanted a full eight hours. Just the eight! ]

You better not be a vampire, or I will be very...very cross. [ His hushed interrogation is cut short when another thump comes from a nearby closed door. It does not deter him from squinting down at Adrian one more time before stepping around the man's crumpled frame, grabbing him beneath the arms to make fairly quick work of getting him behind a closed door. He rounds on Adrian with a frown. ] What exactly are you going to do to this guy? Can't he sleep it off?