There is nothing to lose [morrison]

[Nessarose Allens]

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket save it for a rainy day. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away.

Shut up already!

Her hands were shaking violently, beads of sweat were starting to accumulate upon her pale forehead and her lips were set in a determined way. The voice was becoming more pronounced, more audible than it used to be. She knew why, it was because she had run out of cash, she'd had to wait to transfer some into her account and she'd been out of any sort of sustainability. It was the withdrawal kicking in, fear shot through her body like an arrow, so potent that it almost knocked her to her feet gasping. She wanted the voice to stop singing, its triumphant tones were far too much for her to cope with. This was not its victory, however much it may try to claim it. She needed something to dull the noise, to quell the shakes and to allow her body the bliss of ignorance that it so desired. Basically, she needed whatever shit she could get her hands on.

That was the reason for coming here tonight. Despite the cold, despite the rain that littered the atmosphere. She was dedicated to her cause and it was only at night when they dealt. Nes knew she looked desperate, she knew that she probably looked like she had been to hell and back, they would take advantage of that. Yet, in the end she always got she wanted for a suitable price, bargainning was all part of the game, they needed to make a living to. Shaking hands raked through her wet black hair; she should have brought an umberella tonight but she had been in such a rush it had escaped her thoughts. Only one thing had been on her mind, it still was.

Her pace betrayed the confidence she was trying to portray for it was skitish and wild, like an animal approaching a domesticated building. She glanced around, her shaking hands continued to run through her hair, over her clothes. Anything, it was simply constant movement, reassurance that she was all still there, not hurt and in a single piece. Her paranoia would get the better of her one day, yet she could not help it. It was built into her personality, one could not have her history and simply walk through life non-chalant. They could fein it, she did frequently. But to assume that it was completely apparant? That was mere idiocy.

Run run run as fast as you can -

"Shut up!" Her voice cut above the noise that the voice was making and its mumblings faded into the background of her mind. There was a note of distinct hysteria in her voice, a need that had not been present before. She was at Millennium Bridge now, although she could see nobody around. Trust this to be the only day that nobody was dealing, she feared for her sanity and - oddly enough - for her health. Withdrawal was wrong for her, it could not be helped. Her breathing was shallow, frantic as she glanced around, wiping the rain from her face.

Movement in shadow caught her attention, a figure stepping out and beckoning to her. Nes tilted her head to the side, although her eyesight could not make out anymore than a blur of shadow. It was human-shaped, which was comforting enough. Not that she cared at the moment. As if pulled on a string, she stepped toward the figure, her hands ran through her hair. Her lips quivered. Who else other than a dealer would be out here at this time? Nobody. That was why she chose this time. Had it not been for the rain, she probably would have seen who it was she was walking towards.

[Morrison Whelan]

Safe, dry, warm, and sleeping at home. That was where Morrison wished to be right at this moment. But no, that was Iivan's duty today. The wolf was still recovering from his beating a few days earlier, his nose hadn't even started to heal yet, so he sent his friend out to do his dirty work. Collect/handout money and drugs. That was all he was there by the bridge tonight. It was when the junkies went on the prowl. Unfortunately, it was raining, and very very few people were even in that part of town because of the intense cold the rain brought with it.

The were himself was not bothered by it; he had his thick leather jacket and had been near immune to the cold weather for a few decades. So he waited, being patient, knowing that if he raked in enough money tonight then Iivan wouldn't send him out the next. He really needed that night for sleep anyway, there was supposed to be a lot of D.O.G.S. research going on that next day, something to do with wolf metabolism. Not that it mattered at the moment, he just needed an inventive to make a big sale.

There was one man who came by eventually, around ten o'clock, and near cleaned him out. He'd bargained and begged for a lower price than Morrison usually would have allowed, or Iivan for that matter, but he was just glad to be getting rid of the shit, having no taste for it himself. He found this increasingly odd as he had to deal with drugs so very and still had not developed a taste for single one. Alcohol was more his style.

Now, as midnight drew closer, the wolf started to feel a bit tired and hungry. The cold was beginning to permeate his jacket as drops of water made their way down his collar to soak his shirt, and it caused him fatigue. But he still had a few small bags of rocks left and he knew Iivan would not be pleased if he returned with anything other than pound notes in hand.

Finally, a new customer seemed to be in sights. He waved at them, beckoning them over. He at first wasn't sure that they could see them, for the rain made to blur the sight, but soon he could tell that they were heading a straight line toward him. The wolf backed up a bit into the alleyway, under an awning that protected him from the rain and pulled the plastic baggies from his pocket. It wouldn't go for a lot, but money was money.

Now that the possible consumer had drawn much closer, he could pick up a scent. Human, female... familiar. Morrison waited until she got much closer to make any assumptions, but he could swear that she had been the woman from Windsor, the first one. And now that he could make out her face, he knew that this was right. Nessa. A very different Nessa than he had seen before though. She was all titchy and nervous; must be in withdrawal. He loathed to enable her, even if her symptoms were bad, and pushed the drugs back into his pocket, staring intently at her.

[Nessarose Allens]

Her pace was now mechanic, moving without her consious thought controlling it, her eyes flickered from side to side; making sure that they were alone, that there was nobody watching. Police often thought to stake this area out, knowing as everyone else did that many deals took place here, however it seemed as if tonight was all clear. They must have avoided the rain too; it seemed that everyone except Nes was avoiding getting themselves soaked in the rain. She could feel the rain on her skin, having soaked through her clothes. It didn't matter, she could dry off when she got back to her apartment, there were more desperate measures that were required at the moment.

The figure moved back into the shadows, into an area that was not soaked with rain, it was undercover. In this moonlight she saw him for who he was and she froze. The rain fell oblivious on her as she hesitated. Morrison. Her eyes flicked, left to right again, her hand rushed through her hair in a frantic gesture. But it was what was in his hand that kept her moving forward, she moved slower now, careful. She didn't know he dealt ... she was almost certain. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him push the drugs back into his pocket and when she looked up to meet his eyes she immediately recognised the look in his eyes.

Nes was under the shelter now and she stood about two meters from him, she paused again, her hands wrapped around each other in a wringing gesture, it was more an attempt to conceal their shaking from Morrison. For a moment she was at a loss for words, he just kept staring at her. He wasn't going to sell to her? Nes opened her mouth, attempting to say something before closing it again, she was drenched, but she couldn't decide whether or not that was the cause of her shivering.

"Well? I've got money, i don't care how much ..." Her words were drained, she made no move to pull the money from her inside pocket, perhaps the only one that had remained dry. She watched him back, although she could not continue eye contact for more than a few seconds. Her eyes darted everywhere.

The silence was making her anxious, her body language clearly told him that. "Look, don't worry, i'll find someone else," she spoke in rushed tones and backed away from Morrison. He wasn't going to sell, she needed someone else. Slowly she turned around, reluctant to turn her back on him. But it wasn't a choice at the moment. The shaking was becoming horrible.

Aw, precious is getting scared.

"No." She muttered, before shaking her head. Things were getting bad, answering the voice outloud was always a tell tale sign.

[Morrison Whelan]

"Well? I've got money, i don't care how much ..."

Morrison remained as stoic as before, unwilling to give into even the frantic of pleading. Nessa could obviously see this, as she was equally reticent to offer any money. Silence quickly fell on them as the supplier grew nervous to beg and the supplier stayed set on not selling. The woman's whole body was constantly moving, almost spasmodic, and the anxious quiet finally got to her.

"Look, don't worry, i'll find someone else,"

The smallest smile curled the wolf's lip at that. There wasn't anyone else about for at least a mile; he had already checked. Part of it was the rain, but it was also his presence. Iivan was a big name to many, and as his right hand man, Morrison was just as entitled to scare off the competition. Because of that, he couldn't let her leave to wander aimlessly for a few hours. She might not even make it home in her sick state.

As Nessa began to back away from him, he took a couple minute steps toward her, staying close. Eventually, she had to turn away from him to assure herself that she was going in the right direction. The man moved even closer to her and stretched out a hand as he made to grabbed her shoulder, but had himself stopped short as she murmured. "No..."

The negation wasn't directed towards him, she probably didn't even know his hand was there in her weakened state. She had been speaking to someone else, herself? Another voice? Fuck, she seemed to be going crazy. Fully convinced now that she shouldn't be left to wander on her own, he clasped his fingers tightly on her shoulder and pulled her around to face him.

"I'll make you a deal," he said calmly, trying not to grip too tightly on her trembling arm. "I'll sell you what I have for whatever money you've got with you." He looked her straight in the face and squeezed with his hand shortly. "Only if you come back to my apartment with me. I don't want you walking around out here all night, you'll get even more sick than you are now..." He hoped, and believed, that she would accept, otherwise he'd force her to his home. He felt too protective over her and he had a feeling that he could help her out of this.

[Nessarose Allens]

Nessa wasn't really sure what she had expected him to do, a small part of her knew from the look on his face and the smirk on his lips that he wasn't going to let her simply walk away. If that was the case, then why had she turned away? The answer to that was simple, there was a larger part within her that would not allow her to rest, it demanded attention and that attention, was drugs. She would not get any here and so it forced her to move on, just as it would of forced her to remain had he been inclined to sell. It was almost embarrasing how dependent she was upon her drugs, but it was an addiction, it could not be helped, nor did she want to.

The hand that clamped down upon her arm and spun her, startled her enough that had it not been for his grip she probably would have fallen. He held her tightly, reminding her of the first time before his grip slackened slightly, although not enough for her to manouver herself out of his grip. She was effectively trapped, and it was clear she was frantic about it. Her eyes darted from his face, to the ground, to the hand holding her arm and back to his face. The constant motion was almost dizzying.

"I'll make you a deal, I'll sell you what I have for whatever money you've got with you. Only if you come back to my apartment with me. I don't want you walking around out here all night, you'll get even more sick than you are now..."

Nes let a small laugh escape her throat and she raised her eyebrows in a very characteristic manner, however even the sarcastic look failed because of the sheer amount of fidgeting that her eyes were doing. There was nothing in his voice that suggested he was willing to give her another option, this wasn't even a 'do or die' option as he was only giving her the 'do'. It was quite clear she had little choice. "Shouldn't you take me to dinner first? Or is protocol beyond you?" Sarcasm tainted her tone and she glanced around. Maybe, if her luck was with her - though it rarely was - someone would see them and .. phone the police? There was nobody around, it was just Morrison, the rain and Nessa. There was no other choice.

"... Fine, i guess ... fine." With the arm that he was not holding she reached into her pocket and pulled out the money, daring him with her eyes to ask where she had got it from. Nobody she'd met was under the impression she was rich, she stole enough that she needed to survive, and even then it was not luxurious.

[Morrison Whelan]

That constant twitching was starting to bother Morrison; it made him nervous. He just wanted to slam her against the wall and hold her still until it stopped. He could only restrain himself from doing so by pulling his hand away from her shoulder and stuffing it in his pocket. The woman almost looked like she was going to have a seizure, reminding him painfully of one of many of Meadhbh's attacks, and it distressed him, not being able to keep the movements under control. Though, once she had drugs back in her system, she was be fine, if you could say that putting those sort of toxins into your body was fine.

"Shouldn't you take me to dinner first? Or is protocol beyond you?"

Ah, that sarcasm that so easily found its way under his skin. Now, it wasn't so biting as she could not stop herself from looking around every which-way, but it still managed to cause him a pang of annoyance. He did his best to ignore it and simply rolled his eyes. It was do little use to get even more upset with her.

"... Fine, i guess ... fine."

With that she withdrew a wad of bills from her pocket. Morrison reached down and took it from her without question. Most of his 'customers' got their money from theft, and he didn't believe that she was any exception. He then handed over the baggies from his pockets, keeping his eyes from her face as he always found that looking into the face of whoever was handing the drugs to usually brought a disgusted curl to his lips.

Now that the exchange was over, the man let out a sigh. His pockets felt lighter now that he was free of his wears, replaced with much lighter paper bills.

"Follow," he said softly, moving back onto the street then down it.

It was probably an unnecessary command; she knew it well enough from that one night in the castle. But she still felt like a child to him, one that needed to have their hand held every step of the way so that they wouldn't fuck anything up. He would at least refrain from holding her arm and leading her along with him, since he could trust that she knew that she had no choice but to go with him.

They reached the parking garage soon, as he hadn't wanted to stay too long in the rain to reach his car. Not that it mattered really, in 5 minutes you were as soaked the same amount if you have spent 10. His old, silver, Grand Prix was one of the very few cars there. It wasn't the most impressive vehicle, and certainly not the most expensive, but he took pride in it, liking to call it 'vintage'.

"Get in," he sighed another command, unlocking and opening the back door for her after yanking his keys out of his pants' pocket.

[Nessarose Allens]

It was obvious he hated what he was doing, so she couldn't really understand why he was out here doing it. Not that it mattered at all to her, she was simply here for what she needed, his motives were his own. The exchange was quick - as they always were - and as he shoved her bills into his pockets she hid the drugs in hers. Now would be a really good time to run, after all, he had let go of her now. But no, she knew from past experience that if she ran he would catch her, and she didn't think he would be so complying a second time. At this point her looked more inclined to kill her than to save her. So she remained where she was, watching him as he watched her.

Follow.

Nes laughed quietly to herself at the repetition to these words, she half looked around to see if there were any killer werewolves on the loose. Morrison set off at a swift pace and she trailed behind him slowly. After all, she'd been in the rain for about an hour already, she was as drenched as she could possibly be. A couple more minutes would be nothing to her. Morrison did not glance behind him to see if she was following, but she guessed that he knew she was, he had better hearing than she ever would.

As they walked, she kept her hands in her pockets, reassuring herself that what she had bought was still there. At least if something did go wrong it wouldn't be so bad. Her heart rate was still accelerated, her body still shivered, time raced before her. Was it only seconds since the deal that they arrived now at his car? No, for he was now soaked too. Disorientation had set in for sure now, it was all a blur.

Get in.

For a moment she stared at the open door, debating whether or not she should actually go to his apartment. In her head she was summing up her chances of getting away, she was mentally calculating his reaction. It wouldn't be worth it. Nessa sighed. At least she would make his seats wet, that was always something to look forward to. "Aye aye captain," she muttered slyly while she climbed into his car. She ran a hand through her damp hair, glancing around herself as she did so. Time was passing so quickly, she was sure she would soon lose track of herself.

[Morrison Whelan]

It felt as though she stood at the open door for minutes. Her trembling, jerking self was making him too nervous, tense. It was the threat of something going terribly wrong and he didn't want her to break down now, not in this part of town, he was too far from anything to help her. At least when she dropped down in the back seat with a near sarcastic, "Aye aye captain," he could relax a little.

Nonetheless, he found himself nearly rushing to get the car started. Morrison nerves were incredibly high now. Partly because he didn't want her getting too bad and sickly during the drive, and he needed to check on Iivan, who would probably need a bandage change. The car was soon speeding down the rain slicked road as anxiety continued to rise in him, anxiety that would only be brought down by the arrival at his apartment.

The journey in the car lasted around a quarter of an hour (and would have taken longer if he had obeyed speed limits). The wolf parked his car carefully in a garage that had been erected only for Iivan and himself. Morrison quickly turned off the engine, wanting to again hear the silence of the night. It let him calm down the slightest bit as he let the car cool and settle for a second before he pushed open his door, making sure not to bash it against the side of his friend's own car. He then went to Nessa's door and pulled it ajar enough for her to get out.

Once she was out he locked the car up then ushered her outside of the garage before pulling down the sliding door and padlocking it to a thick steel hook on the ground. Satisfied that the two cars were safe for the night, he dashed through the rain to the door of his building directly across from them. He didn't even have to look back to see if the woman was following him now, he could hear her footsteps clearly and once inside, he could smell her. It was not a too enjoyable scent though; it was a little rotten, fettered, stale, the way many junkies he had met smelled. Blood was soiled by the drugs they used.

The rooms (for their one room had been expanded into the two adjacent ones) the Morrison and Iivan shared were four floors up and they had to take the stairs since the lift had a bad habit of getting stuck. The wolf wondered vaguely if Nessa would be able to handle the climb as she was, but he wouldn't help her unless she asked for it, and she wouldn't. The walk up the stairs seemed even a bit laborious for Morrison, since his legs didn't seem to want to fully obey him, but he managed to keep them from doing anything too odd or start shaking.

At least as they got to the fourth floor corridor, her could relax, his own, familiar door in sight. Walking up to it, key in hand, he listened for anything odd. The only sounds were of the pipes in the building and the faint buzzing of electrical wires in the walls. So Iivan was sleeping. Morrison hoped to leave him sleeping, so he would have to be very quiet.

He unlocked the door, producing a small click, then pushed it open nearly silent on its well greased hinges. "Ladies first," he smirked, waving a hand for Nessa to enter.

[Nessarose Allens]

The warmth of the car affected her more than the chill and rain of the outside weather had done. Perhaps it was because this heat was not gradual, it was a sudden change that had her realising her cheeks were burning. She hadn't been able to tell in the cold, for everything had simply been numb, now however she felt the dampness of her clothes and felt the sickly feeling. It was enough to get her heart beating faster, she was terrified of what would happen if she sunk too low. Nes had never allowed herself to come down, perhaps it had been for this specific reason, she fear what would happen when she was on a low, when she was out of the option. Anxiwty grew within her and she decided that his quick pace was not quick enough, she needed to get out of here. Her hands rubbed her arms, clearing them of the sensation that something was crawling there.

Spiders and bugs!

Nessa shook her head in response to the voice, although she could not help but glance down at her pale skin, just to make sure that there truly was nothing crawling on her skin. She was right, it was merely sensation.

Direction changed without her being aware of it, she wasn't sure how long they'd been in the car, how they'd got here or even where here was. Morrison opened her door and ushered her out of the little garage, she watched with bemused interest as he padlocked the door to a steel hoop. "Little extreme isn't it?" Her comment was dry, its pessimism coming through nicely. He then proceeded to dash into the cover of the building. Nessa trudged slowly through the rain, glancing around with mute disinterest. This was simply another place she would probably not remember.

As they ascending the stairs, she gritted her teeth and followed him, not letting a word or a complaint escape her lips, the flight of stairs were tedious and repetitive, yet finally - it seemed - they arrived at his apartment. She had always hated people who owned apartments near the top floors, it was simply too far to walk. Her own apartment was only on the second floor of her building, nice and accesible, yet non-descript enough that nobody ever decided to pay her a visit.

Ladies first.

For a moment she simply stared at him, mirroring the smirk upon his lips. Then the smirk turned into a grin and she widened her eyes in mock surprise. "Oh! You mean me," she laughed and ducked in in front of him. She lingered in the entrance, unsure of whether she actually wanted to go in further. Whatever, it couldn't hurt could it? She walked forward cautiously, she found the kitchen easy enough and stayed there. Awaiting further instruction? Nessa shoved her hands into her pockets, just to reassure herself. Then she turned to face him. "Now what?"

[Morrison Whelan]

"Oh!You mean me,"

Morrison was a bit surprised that she was still able to keep her pessimist sense of humor and to force that sort of grin on her face. A grin that was controlled and near sane, one that didn't at all reflect the rest of her ill, malfunctioning body. Yet, her attitude managed to irk him. God, he hated that sarcasm, but he kept his head on straight, it wasn't worth the effort to get upset.

The wolf trudged in after her, both of their wet selves dampening the nice carpet under foot. He sighed a little at that; he tried hard to keep the place looking nice and now the floor would be muddied. It couldn't really be helped though as Nessa made her way out of the hallway. He watched her for a moment before stripping his jacket and hanging it up in the closet that was just beside the front door.

He soon followed after the woman, hands stuffed into his jeans' pockets. His eyes were on her back for a little while before she she turned to look at him.

"Now what?"

Morrison couldn't help but notice that she seemed a little frantic, obviously afraid of losing her high, and he really couldn't blame her. He'd seen Iivan come down from a week long one and he'd been so sick the next few days. He'd never known what his friend had been doing, but it had been strong enough to pull him down like a three ton weight was tied to his ankle.

"You can do your thing," he sighed, waving a hand dismissively, "need anything? Not sure where Iivan keeps all his equipment, but I'm sure he's got anything you'd want..."

[Nessarose Allens]

She wondered how much it was killing him to allow her to have the drugs, it was obvious he was opposed to the very idea of them. It was clear, you could always tell the ones who were repulsed by it. A long time ago, perhaps Nes would have been one of those people; yet she had seen to much, experienced too much pain to ever consider that. It was her way of forgetting things that she could not, and would not remember. At the mention of Ivian and his stuff she shook her head, it was not required. Nes glanced around, "how is he?" Her question was interested, though not imposing, open ended if he did not want to answer. The state she'd last seen him in was a little close to death.

Nessa spun again and walked to the bench, she took only one of the bags from her pockets, the rest she would keep for later, it would not do to waste it all in one hit, besides she only needed enough to get her thoughts less chaotic, to dull the voice. It would keep her sane enough that Morrison would let her leave, then she would be able to get herself well and truly high.

A sigh escaped her, more a breath of air than anything else. It was clear, her body visibly relaxed and the constant movement slowly ceased as she closed her eyes. It was this feeling she had missed. There was one problem, she could feel the bliss running through her system, calming her as it went and yet she still felt wound up, tension still ran in her body and she still felt sick. It was possible she actually was, though she was ignoring that for the moment. "Better." She whispered to herself, breathing in as she did so. She'd come close that time, far too close and she needed to relax, a breather as such.

When she finally turned to face Morrison again it was with a less frantic expression, although the composure he had glimpsed the other night at the castle was not there. Her mask had slipped, she'd been found out. Caution. "Thankyou," ah, sincerity. It was odd to hear it coming from Nessa of all people, yet he would not - and could not - know what he'd saved her from. Yet again. Christ, she was going to have to do something to shake this helpless female act soon. Nes hesitated again, she stepped a little forward, her eyes flicking to the way they had entered. "I really should be getting on though, i'm drenched, so is your floor." Wow, her excuses today were fantastic.

Lucky save this time pet, but just you wait, i'll get you. You know i will.

"Not if i can help it." The comment was simple, and yet it was only after she said it that she paused and looked up, her eyes catching with his for the briefest of seconds. She'd answered the voice out loud again, and this time it could not be described as a mere slip of tongue.

[Morrison Whelan]

"How is he?"

For the moment, Nessa seemed for interested in the state of the other wolf than getting her high. Morrison simply shrugged, not wanting to get to into the subject. "He's coping," he replied flatly, glancing away from her for a second. Iivan wasn't doing too bad for now, but he also wasn't recovering as he should. His nose had been completely demolished, he couldn't breath through it any longer, and his throat had collapsed so that he had to have a breathing tube to assist him. His other wounds, cuts and bruises mostly, were at least healing up nicely and he could move the rest of body freely.

Now as he lifted his eyes back up to the woman, she was moving away to sit down on the bench near the kitchen, pulling the bags from her pocket. Morrison grunted with a frank sound of disgust and twisted toward the living room, putting his back to her. He wouldn't even watch Iivan take a hit, however infrequent that was now, so this woman would be no different for him.

The smell of the drugs bothered him the slightest bit as he busied himself with tidying up the living room. There really wasn't much to do, since Morrison was a bit anal about keeping the apartment clean, but one could always arrange and rearrange for the sake of having something to do. After he had switched, then switched back the lamps on the tables on either side of the couches, he dropped down on the cushions and leaned over the coffee table, occupying himself with staking the few books on it.

He only turned to look back at Nessa when she startled him with a, "Thank you,". He met her eyes and nodded, rising to his feet again, a used shot glass that had been sitting on the table in hand. There was still that anxious air about her, the one that caused him to feel nervous himself, but she was still for once, and calm, not at all frantic as before. Yet, now she clearly wanted to leave, probably to finish off the rest of what he had given her in privacy.

"I really should be getting on though, I'm drenched, so is your floor."

Morrison sighed and waved a hand toward the front door, indicating that she could leave. He wasn't going to force her to stay if she could keep a sane head, at least for a few hours, so he had to let her go. The only thing that weighed on him was the possibility that she was not as composed as she put forth and that she would be harmed once she got out from under his control.

"Not if i can help it."

Blinking with surprise, the werewolf looked straight at her, eyebrow raised. She had said odd things before that hadn't really been in context, but this had been the blatant thing she had said yet. He moved forward a little, turning so that his back was to the front door. "Who's this talking to you?" he asked, softly. She wasn't leaving tonight for sure now, something was wrong with her and he wanted to make sure that it wasn't going to cause her to be put in a dire situation.

[Nessarose Allens]

She inclined her head to him as he motioned his hand toward the front door. This had been a superfluous journey, she didn't know where she was so she'd have to wander around aimlessly until her sense of direction and place came back to her. Nessa had to admit that she was not much looking forward to that, especially in the rain and the cold weather. At least now she would not be shaking at the same time, however she could guess now that her shivering was not due to withdrawal, but to the cold confines of her clothing. Still, if she was going to get sick, she might as well do it thoroughly.

It was obvious that she had made a mistake when he positioned himself between her and the front door. His question made her blank for a second, and she shook her head in the slightest of movements. How could she explain that? She'd never told anybody, in her twenty-three years of life this had remained her most protected secret. Even Jason didn't know - but she couldn't think about that - so much was tied into the one situation. And it had all been her fault.

Death, blood. All. Your. Fault.

Aagain she shook her head, denial this time. Fear. For of course it was true. Had she not stolen the money and not made it so obvious who she was then they would not have died the way they did. Was that why the redemption she reaped never felt so good? Because in the end, it was she who was at fault. Nessa stepped backwards, leaning against the bench. Her face was oddly composed for in comparison to the emotional turmoil she was facing. Yet even in her composure, small flickers of emotion played havoc on her expression.

"It's not - ... It's nothing. Just this thing, in my head." Rushed explanation cause her to laugh softly to herself, she was really failing at her normal composure, the numbness she had taught herself to feel had been broken once again. Nes wanted to be angry at him for making something break through, but again this was her fault. It was always her fault. Nes glanced up at Morrison and knew this explanation was not good enough for him, that explanation had never been good, even for the doctors. Before she had refused to go. A wry half-smile played upon her lips. "Nothing dangerous, at least ... not now," again she laughed, casting her eyes downward. She remained leaning against the bench, his position made it perfectly clear that she would not be going anywhere. Normally, shed would fight this and try to push past him, but Nessa was not looking for a fight, and somehow he always seemed to win - and that just took the fun out of things - and she did not want to get herself into a fight that she could not win.

[Morrison Whelan]

Fucking hell, she was a bad liar. She knew that he knew that her explanation was terrible. Even a blind-man, unable to see the fear and grief that played across her features, would be able to tell that she was flustered. The nervous laugh that burst from her mouth gave her away. And now her composure was dropping, fast. The night they'd met Nessa had been incredibly head strong and brave, but she must have had the perfect amount of drugs coursing through her veins. Yet, now, when she was starting to fall back to earth, she couldn't find her feet, and she was helpless. And that seemed to be when this voice bothered her most.

"Nothing dangerous, at least ... not now,"

But it would become dangerous, eventually, especially if she was let to wander around the city until she found her way home.

"I'd like you stay here tonight," he said quietly, staring at her down-turned eyes.

Morrison wasn't going to explain his reasons to her quite yet, some were just a bit too personal and most he wasn't even sure of. And if she asked, he would respond with the same answer that she had given him about the voices. "It's nothing."

"If you want to get cleaned up, the bathroom is just down the hall there," he gestured to the hallway just off of the kitchen, "and I can get you some clothes."

He shrugged softly to hide his intense desire for her to wash up. She looked like a mess and that made her seem even more desperate than she was. Pulling his ring of keys from his jeans' pocket, he moved to the front door to lock it. The door could only be opened, in or out, with a key, so it ensured that she would not be able to leave and that any one else would come in.

Confident that Nessa was effectively trapped in the apartment for the night, he made his way through the living room to his own room, planning to change into some less damp clothes. Upon the sight of his well made bed, he felt immensely sleepy. He had become so tired from standing around all night, waiting to sell what Iivan had put him in charge of. Unfortunately, he had brought himself home another burden: keeping Nessa as sane as possible. He probably wouldn't get any sleep because of her, since he already slept little enough, knowing how injured Iivan was, and now he had to worry about Nessa, mostly that she wouldn't try to jump out a window or something... Perhaps he was exaggerating, but too much caution was better than too little.

The wolf quickly stripped then pulled on a whole new set of clothes; new jeans and a white muscle shirt, as he hadn't cleaned any clothes in quite a few days so he didn't have any normal t-shirts. He then checked the back of the closet and pulled out a small pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that were Meadhbh's. The only reason that he kept them was in case she found herself away from home and in need of a change of clothes. Thankfully, that hadn't been for a while and he hoped it wouldn't happen ever again, so it would alright to lend them to Nessa for a bit. After folding up the clothes on his bed, he stood against the wall and waited for the sound of running water, indicating that the woman was washing up, for he had no doubt that she would want to.

[Nessarose Allens]

In various ways, Nessa was not right in the head. Most especially because she feared herself more than she feared Morrison - the male werewolf, who could kill her without a second thought. It was not right that one should fear themselves, or rather, what was in their heads, it was not right at all. If there was one thing, above all others, that she feared about Morrison, it was his ability to so easily bring out memories that she had repressed for five or so years, he seemed to do it without thinking. He seemed to be able to break down her defenses as if they were mere paper. Nessa knew she should hate him for it, but she was too busy being terrified.

Stay here tonight? She did not raise her eyes, she did not question it. Hell, if something happened she would find her way out, it wasn't as if Nessa couldn't get creative if her life depended on it. Besides, sometimes she got violent in withdrawal - actually, most times she got violent in withdrawal so it would be nothing new at all. Hopefully it would not get that far, she had the drugs afterall, there was no way she would let herself come that far down. It would hurt more than Morrison's house should that ever happen.

When he offered the bathroom for her to wash up she nodded bleakly and headed off in the direction he'd pointed. As such, she completely missed the fact that he'd locked the doors, perhaps she would have freaked out a little had she known that she was effectively trapped. Unless she enjoyed a four story leap out of the window, which was unlikely. Nes walked to the bathroom, feeling slightly bad about the trail of water - or dampness - that she was leaving behind her. She locked the bathroom door behind her, taking everything out of her pockets before she threw the coat on the floor, proceeding to do the same with the rest of them before turning on the shower.

The water was hotter than she'd normally make it, yet it did not help her relax. She washed her hair with the shampoo that she'd found and at least started to feel a little warmer. The numbness was still in her muscles and after ten minutes in the shower she'd decided that it was not going to disappear. At least not tonight anyway. Nes stepped out of the shower, drying herself with the towel that was folded in there. It was then she found out her real dilemma.

Her wet clothes were left in a soggy pile on the floor, there were no others in there. A quiet laugh escaped her throat, more out of the amusing situation than any real humor she gathered from it. She deliberated for a second, then wrapped the towel like a dress around her, holding it up just in case. It was clear she wasn't comfortable like this, but who really cared at the moment.

When she unlocked the bathroom door she navigated her way around the house, going past the living room and guessing where his own room would be. Nes was right and she appeared in the doorway, her eyes flicking from spot to spot for entirely different reasons. "Uh, hi ... clothes?" The same nervous laugh escaped her lips, at the moment she was all too aware that she was standing in only a towel.