There is nothing to lose [morrison]

[Morrison Whelan]

The familiar sound of water rushing through the pipes in the walls caused a tiny smile to rise on Morrison's lips. It was as if he were taking care of Meadhbh again, when she had still been working as a prostitute. This new woman, in contrast, would be much harder to help. Getting someone away from their pimp and off of the streets, but pulling someone off drugs was a completely different situation. Perhaps this meant that it wasn't going to be a long night, such as a long week. Could he get her off the stuff in just a week? Maybe, but there was a better chance of hell freezing over. He would still try his damnedest though.

After a minute of listening to the water run, he left the room to visit Iivan. The other wolf's room was at the back of the modified apartment, as he didn't like to be disturbed. He opened the door a crack and peaked inside to see if his friend was awake or not. He was staring blankly at the ceiling, just as monotonous as the sucking, hissing sound of the breathing apparatus beside his bed. The sight was almost too pathetic for Morrison to handle and his throat suddenly felt tight with suppressed guilt.

"Hey," he choked, moving into the dimly lit room and shutting the door behind him.

The other man could only grunt in return.

"Need more morphine?" asked Morrison, kneeling at the head of the bed.

A pained smile flashed over Iivan's lips and he nodded his head as best he could. Morrison smirked a bit himself and grabbed up the syringe and bottle of morphine from the bedside table. After filling the needle all the way full, he pressed it into the IV connected to the inside of the wolf's arm that was used during the day to 'feed' him. The pain killers weren't for his broken nose or any cuts, it was mostly to help calm his neck and spine; a disk had slipped out of place at the base of his neck.

Once the wolf had relaxed back into the mattress, Morrison sat up next to him and carefully peeled off the bandage that was wrapped around his head, trying not to pull any of the man's long blonde hair that had gotten caught in the plaster.

"I sold everything you gave me," he said, hoping to distract Iivan from any pain with conversation. "couldn't get a high price out of anyone because of the rain, but the money was decent."

Morrison pulled a new roll of gauze out of the drawer in the table by the bed then completely revealed Iivan's injured face. There was practically no nose left, just a red, bloody hole. Jeena had brought him back to her clinic and decided that she could do for him was to clean up the useless skin, cartilage, and bone fragments, he would then have to undergo reconstructive surgery to give him a normal appearance once again. During the time before that, when his neck had healed and he could get back to his business, he would probably still wear a bandage over his face to protect his vanity.

Iivan's hand stretched out to grasp the notebook and pen that he was using to communicate and waited until Morrison had finished before he scrawled across the paper. He then held up the book for his friend to see, a bit of a spark dancing in his eyes.

You got a human?
Food? To fuck?

Morrison let out a bark of laughter that was much more enthusiastic than it should have been because he felt so tense and he patted the man softly on the arm.

"No," he sighed, wiping a relieved tears from his cheek, "she's a friend, needed some merch. She might stay here for a few days."

The cripple looked a bit disappointed but he shrugged all the same; it wasn't as if he couldn't ask Morrison to get him a girl of his own. It was quiet for a moment, the pitter-patter of the rain outside and the rushing of the shower the only sounds around them.

"Hey," Morrison said finally, "you still got some of that detox stuff?"

Iivan picked up the notebook again.

Yeah. Why?

"Help a friend." He got up form the bed and moved over to the closet door across from the him. He slipped his keys from his pocket to unlock the closet then looked around inside. It contained all sorts of paraphernalia and supplies, but he was only interested in the clear glass bottle that sat high near the back of a shelf, full of faint blue liquid. As soon as he dropped the little bottle into the pocket of his baggy jeans, along with the keys, he heard Nessa calling from the front of the apartment.

"Uh, hi ... clothes?"

A bit startled, he slammed the closet shut then went to open the door. "I'll check on you in the morning," he told Iivan, "try to get some sleep though, it'll help you heal."

With that he left for his room and found Nessa standing outside of it, dressed only in a towel. As he pushed past her to get the clothes on his bed, he noticed how much better she smelled and she looked healthier, all clean, though not too much for it didn't help that she was so thin.

"Here you go," Morrison said, forcing a smile as he pushed the clothes into her hands.

Dropping as hand to his stomach, he moved past her through the hall and to the kitchen. "Hungry?" he called to her, even as he pulled a pack of biscuits from on top of the fridge and popped one into his mouth. Even if she didn't want anything, he was going to eat well; he felt nearly starving all of a sudden.

[Nessarose Allens]

It would be quite an understatement to say that she was feeling quite uncomfortable right now. To be honest, that was a perfectly sane response to her current situation, afterall; standing in a strangers house wearing only a towel was not her most ideal situation. Nessa held the towel close to her body, she was still shaking although it was not as pronounced as before. Momentarily she closed her eyes, things had got way out of her control. Now she was in the apartment of the man who - the last time they had met - had tried to kill her, before eventually saving her life. It was safe to say that she was more than a little confused about how things were going. Nes knew that Morrison would consider her to be crazy, it didn't bother her, everyone thought she was crazy. Perhaps she was, perhaps the voice attribuuted to that, but she couldn't help it. For it all stemmed from a deeper problem that she refused to acknowledge, let alone remedy.

Nes darted to the side as Morrison pushed past her to collect the clothes that were folded on his bed, when he thrust them into her arms she nodded her thanks. They were not her usual style, they were not black, but they were warm and they were dry. She would let her clothes dry out and return these ones in the morning. That was the polite thing to do was it not?

As he moved past her, asking whether or not she was hungry she smiled ruefully to herself. Nes rarely ate, and if she did then it was not that much. It was not anorexia, merely a side effect of drug addiction, she did not feel hungry very often. "No ... thanks." With that she darted back to the bathroom, quickly putting on the clothes he had given her and transferring the drugs into the pockets of the sweatpants. It was better to carry them on her than be without them.

For a moment or two, she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, her eyes were narrowed. Slowly she shook her head, a small laugh escaped her throat as she turned away from it.

What you see is what you are pet, can't change yourself.

"Is that so? Fuck off, you're not wanted." Her voice had changed from annoyance to anger as she snarled the last part of her sentence. The voice quietened yet she knew it was still there, she could still hear its tuneless ramblings in the back of her head. It was somethign she had become accustomed to, yet that did not mean that it did not still distract her.

She walked down to the kitchen, lingering by the door as she was unsure now what she was expected to do. Nes could not shake the feeling of escape, although now that she was atleast warm she felt some of her old mask slip back into her expression, controlling and numbing the emotions that she did not want to feel. It was for this sensation, aswell as the forgetting that was the reason behind the drug use. Everything was so much easier this way. So much easier.

[Morrison Whelan]

Morrison glanced up at Nessa as she moved to the bathroom. He wanted her to eat, a little scared by how skinny she was and worried that she could be malnourished. But he wasn't going to force feed her. He'd already locked her up in his apartment, and forcibly stuffing food down her throat would constitute as torture. Maybe she would at least eat tomorrow, she'd have to be hungry in the morning.

Humming softly to himself while he munched on another cookie, he sauntered over to a cupboard and pulled out two mugs. One he half-filled with whiskey from a little stash that he kept under the kitchen sink and the other with skim milk. After returning the milk back to the fridge, he glanced up to see if Nessa was done in the bathroom yet. She was silent, but she wasn't moving back to the kitchen.

With a swift motion, he pulled forth and un-stoppered the little glass bottle in his pocket. He then poured a few drops into the milk before dropping the container, closed, back into his jeans. Nessa would be furious with him in the morning if she had even a sip of milk. At least, she would if she figured out that he had drugged her a little. If not, the woman would probably think that she was going through withdrawal again. And in a way she would be, but it would be much faster and violent than normal, and drugs would only make it worse.

Iivan was a genius in a way, that he had been able to come up with such an effective 'medication'. He'd originally only produced it in case he found himself addicted to any one substance, which seemed to happen too fast for him. And this unassuming liquid would pull him out of that rut of drug abuse in a snap. Sure, he would be incapacitated for a few days, vomiting, with diarrhea and a high temperature, but in the end it was worth it, as he was no longer dependent on any one drug.

Morrison picked up both of the mugs and made his way to the living room, intending to set both drinks on the coffee table.

"Is that so? Fuck off, you're not wanted."

The words were so sudden that it startled him to the point of jumping. His own mug tilted toward him, sloshing his front with alcohol, but he was able to keep Nessa's mug still, not wanting to waste it. "Shit," he muttered, setting both cups down on the counter. He moved over to the sink again and pulled out the near empty bottle of whiskey. With a sigh, he drained the last few ounces back into his mug and had just thrown it into the sink when he heard Nessa come out of the bathroom.

The wolf smiled ruefully up at her and pushed the cup of milk to the end of the counter beside her, wiping at the stain on his white shirt as if that would help at all.

"If you're not going to eat, you should at least drink something."

His own mug was in his hand, but he didn't drink from it yet, instead contenting himself with grabbing up another biscuit. A second later, he turned away to look for something else in the fridge. This was really only to stop himself from staring at Nessa to see if she would drink what he had given her, though he did pull out a cup of pudding for himself. God, how he loved his sweets.

[Nessarose Allens]

Nes wasn't particularly sure whether she wanted to stay here the night, everything was just so strange and she already had what she needed. She'd entertained his wishes thus far for two reasons: one, she wanted drugs and two, her resistance would be futile unless she happened to be a very fast runner, which had already been disproved. But honestly, he couldn't keep her here if she didn't want to stay. Perhaps she would sneak out once he was asleep, Nes didn't sleep much herself. She was only now beginning to realise some of the unhealthy habits, but if you didn't sleep then you did not dream, and if you did not dream then you could not have nightmares. That logic worked fine in her head.

If she was being honest with herself then she would say that the main reason she did not want to stay here was Morrison. There was something about him that disconcerted her, it made her uncomfortable and she couldn't understand why. It was something that made her speak with the sarcasm that she could tell he hated, and yet something that made her tread carefully at the same time. Nes was all too aware he could kill her, yet that didn't frighten her. Nes longed for death, not by her own hand, but it would make things so much easier.

If you're not going to eat, you should at least drink something.

He gestured to the mug on the end of the counter and she walked forward with a shrug, if it made him stop hassling her then she would drink the damn thing. It had always been a problem to everybody else that she did not eat much; to her it was not much of a problem, it was simply something that had always been. It may not have been healthy, but her lifestyle was not healthy, it didn't matter, she did not intend to survive very long in this world. Maybe that was why she had joined Atrum? Because of the risk it offered in its very name, she could not possibly have chosen a better or more risky occupation.

While he turned around to busy himself in the fridge she picked up the mug, smirking at the fact that it contained milk. As it was only half full she finished it quickly and set it back down on the counter. Her expression altered slightly at the odd aftertaste in it, maybe it was going off? Oh yeah, hilarious Morrison, giving her off milk. Obviously though, it was not so off as the oddity lingered only in the aftertaste.

Oh, this WILL be good.

What are you talking about?

Nes was careful this time, her eyes flicking momentarily to Morrison, just to make sure she'd not spoken out loud.

Hah. Not likely pet, but this will be a fun night for both of us.

She frowned and turned away from Morrison, letting her expression flick over with slight confusion. There was some sort of euphoria in the voice which was never a good thing; considering what was good for it was usually never good for Nes. Vaguely, she let her expression clear again, she had what she needed, tonight the voice was as good as gone. And, she would try to refrain from answering it outloud.

With a glance behind her, Nes made her way into the adjacent living room and sat on the couch, even the way she sat was not comfortable: sitting on the very edge, leaning forward slightly. Perhaps she was in for an interesting night. "So ... uh." Nes paused there, unsure what to say or even how to say it. "Find that girl yet?" The girl she was referring to of course, was the one who had hurt his friend so severely. Nes still wasn't sure how that had been possible.

[Morrison Whelan]

Morrison couldn't help but smirk a little as he glanced over at Nessa to see her drinking the milk. A small look of disgust crossed her lips, but she seemed to dismiss it. There wasn't really any way for him to guess how long it would take for the drug to take effect. Iivan could drain half a bottle and almost immediately get sick, while he could take only a few drops and be down in an hour. Nessa had consumed just one or two drops, so it could take hours with her comparatively slow metabolism, or it might only be half an hour if the drug worked differently with humans, since Iivan and a fellow wolf dealer were the only ones who had ever used it. Tonight would be like the trial run of some near sick experiment.

Grabbing a spoon form the drawer beside the sink, he watched the woman moving over to the living room. He wished that she would just fucking relax, her awkwardness was keeping him on edge and he couldn't even enjoy his sweets. She might loosen up if he gave her a little alcohol, but he didn't know how the detox drug would react with it.

"So... uh. Find that girl yet?"

The wolf bristled a bit at that and lowered his spoon back into the pudding cup. "No," he muttered, picking up his whiskey finally and taking a sip. He continued to speak to the back of her head, but it was only to fill to an oppressive silence.

"I've got more powerful people to worry about, let alone some little bitch who knew enough self-defense to beat up a coked up wolf." A growl grew in his voice as he spoke and his Irish accent thickened his tongue, causing the words to slur into each other. He drained his mug in his temper then stared down at the bottom of the empty cup, disappointed.

Sighing, he moved back to the sink and reached under it to grab another bottle. Vodka this time, but it was nearly full as he usually tried to avoid the stuff. Right now, though, he just needed a drink. He poured enough to fill up two thirds of the mug before walking over to Nessa, bottle still in hand in case he wanted to replenish his cup.

Morrison took a seat on the floor across the coffee table from the woman and placed the bottle on the table. "I'm not stupid enough to send someone after her anyway," he said quietly, swishing his drink slowly, "agents or drug dealers after some measly human girl... Ha! Fucking ridiculous."

He gulped down half of his glass then glanced up at Nessa. She sat still. at the edge of the cushion, back ridged. The wolf took another drink, but it wasn't helping at all to calm his nerves, if anything it was merely fueling his anger. Don't get carried away, lad, he told himself silently and forced his hand to put the mug on the table and push it away.

[Nessarose Allens]

The moment the words had left her mouth she knew that they had been the wrong thing to say, she was not looking at Morrison but she could feel the sudden anger seeping off him. It must cost him alot, sitting here looking after Ivian while the girl wandered the streets, Nes might have offered to go after the girl herself, except for the fact that in twenty-three years she had never killed a human, she'd killed wolves and only one vampire (although that had been a fluke) but she had never killed a human. To be honest, she did not intend to start that now. In her eyes, killing humanity was murder, killing supernaturals was peacekeeping. In that case it was kill her be killed, if Morrison wanted that obnoxious girl dead, then he would have to find a way to do it himself.

When he was angry his accent thickened and seemed to make his words harder to understand; she had noticed that at Windsor and she noticed it again now, not that it was unpleasant. It was simply something that he mind had taken it upon itself to notice. She could hear him rustling in the cupboard, wow she must have made him angry. Nes did have the habit of doing that with everybody that she met, they either hated her at the beginning or they eventually learnt to hate her. She couldn't help it, she pushed people away. Whether it was for their safety or her own, she'd not yet decided. Perhaps it was a combination of the two.

Eventually he came to sit across the table from her, taking a place on the floor. He was still muttering, still fuming and he came equipped with a bottle of vodka. Nes raised a single eyebrow comically although - to her credit - she did not comment on the appearance of the alcohol. After all, she had the drugs, why not give him the alcohol. What she really needed was a smoke, but Nes was not selfish enough to do that in someone else's house where the smell itself could get you high, she at least had that much respect. When this hit started to wear off she'd just retreat to the bathroom, at least she could lock herself in there.

Agents or drug dealers after some measly human girl... Ha! Fucking ridiculous.

At this point, she couldn't help herself and a small laugh escaped her throats before she clamped her lips shut and smirked towards the floor. "Don't underestimate measly human girls," although by now that should be obvious to him. After all, Nes had been prepared to jump through a fucking window to get away from him, what wolf could say they had the same dedication. Coked or not, it was no mean feet to damage a wolf to the extent that Ivian had been damaged. Nes had seen the damage. Hell, she'd inflicted some when she'd been high, it made no difference. Perhaps Ivian was not as experienced in fighting as Morrison, or perhaps the girl was more experienced than Nes. They would, or at least she would, never know.

"Surely though a wolf could track her down," at this point, she couldn't stop herself from imagining a dog following the trail of a fox in the hunts they used to do. Nes cracked a smile, feeling the steady pace of normality come back to her, she would hang onto it with everything she was worth. Yet there was some intangible difference about this normality, something fragile. Nes - of course - ignored it. "I mean, don't get me wrong she's probably hiding out god knows fucking where, but you guys smell shit right? Why not go out there and ... have a sniff around?" Again she laughed, the image in her head was just getting worse and worse, she shook her head slowly with a smile. It didn't matter to her, Annette, was just another girl.

Like you little pet? How many do you think are after you?

"No-." Not Enough.

It was a simple answer, and she'd caught herself before she made the state of her sanity look any worse from where Morrison was sitting. Nes moved back a little on the couch, pulling her legs up so that she was sitting, hugging her knees to her chest. "No worries though, i'm sure you'll find her eventually." Ah, her cover up was dismal but she hoped it allowed for the previous slip of tongue. Nes was confused, normally the voice went away by now, or at least could not talk directly to her. So why was it still here? A brief flash of concern passed upon her expression, something was wrong. But she didn't know what, she couldn't think of what could have possibly gone wrong.

[Morrison Whelan]

"Don't underestimate measly human girls,

Morrison stared up intently at Nessa, chin resting in his hands, elbows propped on the coffee table as he took in steady, controlled breath, trying not to get himself worked up over her sadistic humor. Of course he wouldn't underestimate a human, he'd had enough experience with them to know exactly what they were capable of. An unarmed mortal was nearly harmless, even if they knew a good deal of martial arts, but give them even a stick and they became twice as dangerous.

Humans were clever, and unfortunately, he found it difficult to imagine how they thought. Yes, he looked human, but having been born a werewolf, he'd always been forced to act on raw, animal instincts and he'd only been able to gain finesse in his brutality with age. As a born human, he may have been much less harsh and pointless in his violence, more calculating. It could have spared himself and so many others countless injuries, especially his first girlfriend. From time to time he still felt guilty for what had happened to her, yet he would then push the thoughts and feelings of her so far back in his mind that it took only the strongest stimulation to pull her forth again.


"Surely though a wolf could track her down,"
"I mean, don't get me wrong she's probably hiding out god knows fucking where, but you guys smell shit right? Why not go out there and ... have a sniff around?"

The wolf let out half surprised barking snort at her suggestion an moved his transfixed eyes down to his drink. It would be a waste of time to hunt down and kill the girl. Just another pointless killing. The beating, while far too severe, did teach Iivan a lesson. He was a gunman, first and foremost, and didn't didn't really bother with honing his hand-on-hand combat. Instead, he relied on always having a pistol with sufficient ammo to protect him. It was a idiotic plan for self defense, considering that he wouldn't have to gun with him as a wolf, and even in the unlikely even that he did, he couldn't use it until he changed back into his human form, which would take him 5 or more minutes.

"No- No worries though, I'm sure you'll find her eventually."

Morrison looked up her at her apparent stutter and grinned softly, shaking his head softly. She looked calmer now, especially now that she leaned back in the couch, her knees against her body. But he knew that the voice was still bothering her, and she could tell that something was wrong with her now. She'd probably want to take another hit soon, try to bring back a sense of control over herself. It would only make the detox drug work faster though, having something to target and rid. He flashed her a little smile at the thought, then took his bottle of vodka before rising to his feet, heading to the kitchen.

The bottle was replaced back under the sink and he moved back to the fridge, pulling out the milk again. After glancing back at Nessa, a bit paranoid that she would look back at him, he slipped the small bottle from his pocket and placed a few drops in the mug she had left on the counter with a flourish that would make a magician proud. He then filled the cup full with milk to make the drug near undetectable before grabbing a bowl from a high cupboard then dropping a dozen biscuits into it. Humming softly, as he always did to keep his nerves down, he walked back to the sofa and handed the mug to Nessa and placed the bowl down on the coffee table.

"Want some?" he asked, gesturing at the cookies.

The were didn't care at all if she ate anything or drank, since she already had the drug in her system. More milk and she would become sick faster and he could with her soon. And the cookies weren't really for anything, he just wanted the bowl in case she couldn't make it to the bathroom to throw up. He dropped down by the coffee table again, pulling his mug up for a drink, gazing over at the women. He had to wonder if his constant staring was bothering her at all, as she hadn't shown any sign yet that it had, he just felt that he needed to keep his eyes on her, not knowing what she would do next.

[Nessarose Allens]

When he stared at her, she stared right back at him, a mild challenge was held in her gaze and the sarcastic smile still danced almost tauntingly upon her lips. She could see the anger fuming below the surface, she could see how hard he was working to control it and yet she could not comprehend why. Nes was a simple human, they'd met by an unlucky chance and somehow fate thought it would be hilarious to throw them together again. He had no reason to restrain his anger and so it amused her immensly to see him doing exactly that. Nes vaguely wondered if there was something she could say that would make it impossible to restrain his anger, not that she would search for something like that ... afterall, she was not that sadistic. But it would be certainly interesting to watch someone else be the one losing control. Even if it was only for a second.

Many creatures - and she specified the word - had tried to make her see that humans were the most monstrous of them all and yet she refused to see it. Sure, humans may kill each other for sport, so did the supernatural, humans were fucked up. But, at least they were normal, they were built to survive on the earth. As far as she was concerned, lycanthropy and vampirism were diseases that needed to be eradicated. Although, she was happy that she only specified in one of these areas. Otherwise, she would probably be more dead by now that she already was.

Nes automatically hated the smile that he flashed her, for although it looked good on the surface she could feel something sinister within it, a knowledge that she knew came at her expense although she would not gratify him by addressing the subject. It would come as far too much trouble. It made her anxious and uneasy, yet she could fake it. She was already dealing with worse problems, she did not need to accumulate. The drugs were wearing off way faster than normal, her mind travelled back to her pockets and her eyes momentarily flicked in the direction of the bathroom. Fuck it, at this rate she could have the whole lot and not overdose, not that she would. She was flat broke and didn't intend to steal just yet, she'd have to save some ... at least.

As soon as he headed toward the kitchen she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she could feel her heart rate increased, she could feel herself becoming jittery and it was beginning to frighten her. It shouldn't be happening this quickly, she should be oblivious at least until morning. Nessa held her knees tightly, resting her head on them for the briefest of moments. It was wrong, something was wrong. Nes thought she heard something, a strange whistling, she looked up sharply and glanced around, frowning. She heard Morrison in the kitchen ... nothing and nobody else. Hallucinating? She almost let a tired groan escape her lips, it had never gotten this far before. Why now? Why here?

Want some?

His words proceeding him and she fought to maintain a mask of calm as she simply shook her head. Holding the mug was risky, she was unwilling to allow the shaking to get a hold of her. She gulped the milk, before setting the rest of it on the table. Shadows danced on the edge of her vision and she closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them again, it was to find Morrison staring at her with the same intensity as before.

Too much.

Poor pet, poor pet. Not having fun?

No.

"Sorry, i'll be back in a second," Nes fought to maintain the facade of calmness as she walked out of the living room. It was all she could do not to sprint down the hall toward the bathroom. Once she was in there she locked the door, feeling herself stumble to the bath as she sat on it. The shaking was becomming ridiculous and she felt her head spinning. Maybe it was the drugs? Maybe they were just fucked up? It didn't matter, they had to help. Nes took one of the bags from her pocket and scrutinized it for a second. There didn't appear to be anything wrong with it, but then you never knew.

Shaky pet? Oh well thats a shame isn't it.

"Shut up. Shut up." Her voice was mumbled, almost frantic as she took another hit. Needing to gain control, euphoria ... stability. She felt sick, why did she feel sick? Her whole body was shaking, that wasn't normal. Was somebody at the door? Was it hot in here? She couldn't breathe. That wasn't normal. "Ah shit, shit." There was a noticable tremor in her voice, she glanced back at the door, was it moving? No .. it wasn't. Calm down, she needed to calm down. But she felt so sick. Fucking hell.

Nes escaped the bathroom, although she lingered in the hall for a moment or two. Her eyes flicked towards the front door and she glanced back toward the living room. Fuck, she had to get home, out of here. This was not the right place for this to happen. This should NOT be happening. Nes darted silently to the door, trying to open it only to find it locked. Had he locked her in? Why had he done that. Again she swore that she heard the whistling noise and spun around. Where was it? Nes raked a hand through her hair, taking in a deep breath. This was not good.

Just falling apart, where's your strength now pet? Hah. Pathetic.

"Pathetic? Hah. You're one to judge." God. She was going fucking crazy. Nes tried to slow down her movements as she made her way back down the hall, toward the living room. Her shaking was back, she tried to conceal it as well as possible. Her face was pale - moreso than normal - and there was a frantic fear in her eyes. She felt sick and dizzy. It was all so sudden. Nes lingered at the door to the living room. She didn't want to sit still, didn't want to make it obvious. She fixed her stare on Morrison, trying to make it sane and confident as it had been before.

"I think i should be going home. If you'd unlock the door." The panic was barely concealed but she was quite proud of herself for being able to hide the majority of the breakdown she was going through. Something was wrong and she had to get out of here. Her whole body was shaking. Nes crossed her arms in front of her chest, trying to hold herself still. The staring contest still went on while she awaited Morrison's answer. He couldn't keep her here, could he?

[Morrison Whelan]

There was sense of triumph blooming in Morrison's chest, seeing Nessa drain part of the mug full of drugged milk. Yet, he couldn't help but to become slightly afraid. He wasn't sure what would happen to her now, though the drug was working fast; he could see the shaking in her grow again and panic flew into her expression. Soon now, within ten minutes or so, she would be too sick too function. That would make for a long day for him, cleaning up after her and making sure that she didn't hurt herself or wreck anything in the apartment. God, he hoped that she wouldn't puke on anything too valuable. Might just lock her in the guest bedroom to prevent that.

Nessa only quickened her descent when she decided to leave for the bathroom; he knew that she was only going to take a hit. Unfortunately for her, she would soon realize that this was not just normal withdrawal. It was forced and violent. Much less pretty than regular withdrawal, and that was quite ugly itself. He hoped that she would just believe that the drugs were the cause of her distress. They weren't really his anyway, they were Iivan's. If she knew the truth, she'd most likely attack him, and in her state, he would imagine that she would be sick on him before she could cause him any damage.


As the bathroom door shut, he closed his eyes, listening intently for any insane ramblings from her.

"Shut up. Shut up."

Soon, he could hear her at the front door. No way out there, she was completely locked in. For just a millisecond he was afraid that she would try to jump out of a window to be able to leave the house, but he knew that he would be able to stop her before she reached any windows, especially the closet ones to her were in the living room.

"Pathetic? Hah. You're one to judge."

So, the voice was still there, pestering her about who the hell knew what. It seemed to bother her only when she was coming down from a high, and it would probably get even worse and worse as the detox kicked in. But he guessed, and prayed, that the alien thoughts would eventually leave her. instead of haunting her in a sober state and driving her back to being a junkie. She'd just better not be finishing off what he had sold her, now, it would be unpleasant, adding even more to the cocktail of drugs already flowing through her veins.

There wasn't the fresh smell of drugs when she moved back into living room. However, she looked even more ill than before. Her skin was too pale, almost blue like she was cold, and everything was shaking, her eyes darted around everywhere, imagining unseen dangers. The brave way she set her face didn't help at all. It only seemed to add to her insanity, since the control left her from time to time, causing her face to spasm into a crazed, panicked expression.

"I think i should be going home. If you'd unlock the door."

Morrison got to his feet, nodding slowly at her request. He would show no indication that he was at all alarmed by her current mental status. The wold didn't really plan to let her just walk out of her free anyway. She could be sick before she even got out of the building, so he would have to follow and make sure to get her back into the apartment and let her rest. With this on his mind, he trudged over to the front door, whipping out his keys, then pressed the right key into its lock. It turned smoothly and produced a soft click. "

"Go on," he sighed, yanking the door wide for her.

[Nessarose Allens]

Fear. She'd never felt it to this extent before, she'd never had a reason to. It had always been simple, this or that, live or die situations, fear had no use and so it was disregarded. Here, it was fiercly potent, griping her in a hold that she knew she could not break it was endless and choking. Nes struggled to control her breathing, she was never normally like this, she always had control over every aspect of her life - except for the voice - but now ... everything seemed to be falling apart. She knew that when she left she would run somewhere - anywhere - that was not here, because now Morrison was watching her at her weakest, he saw the insanity she had concealed for twenty three years of her life and she could not have that. It was escape, or nothing.

As he meandered past her slowly, fishing in his pockets for his keys she turned and followed him. The shaking was more obvious now his back was turned to her, the fear was more frantic in her gaze. Out. Could she make it home? Probably not, but that didn't matter, did it? It was all she could do to organise her pace into a somewhat normal one, she felt the need to run, to run until she couldn't anymore. Something was behind her wasn't it? But no, she looked behind her and there was nothing. Morrison had the door locked? How could anything have got into the apartment? Nes could feel her heart pounding in her chest and had no doubt that Morrison would be able to hear it but she tried to not allow her face to decieve this. Remain as normal as possible, maybe he would think it was him that she was afraid of.

Go on.

She nodded meekly and slipped out between him and the door. "Uh, th-thanks." Nes stuttered, and then - unable to contain the fear, and completely disregarded the consequences, she darted down the first flight of stairs. God she felt sick, her head was spinning, she stumbled, her hand darted to the banister to steady herself. Her breathing was shallow. What was wrong? This wasn't supposed to be happening, and not to this extent. Oh god ... she was going to be sick. Nes made it to the third floor before falling to her knees, her hands wrapped around her stomach.

Pet, look up.

She obeyed and found herself shocked. A shadow of a figure stood there, grinning at her with fire eyes and a large smile. A choked scream escaped her lips and she threw herself away from it, toward the wall. Her eyes were wide. It was laughing? "How?" She whispered for it was surely .. her voice, but how could it be outside her head? How could it be a manifestation. The figure came closer, Nes was shaking more now. She could feel the bile rising in her throat.

This pet? This is all you. I wonder, have you allowed me the ability to hurt you now too?

An inaudible sound escaped her throat as the sickness finally overcame her, she vomitted before edging away from the figure again. Help, she needed help. It was coming after her. "Ja-Jason!" But Jason was dead, why had she called him? Her mind swam, Nes doubled over on the floor, her hands still clutching her stomach. She was shivering, her eyes still fixed on the fire eyes of the voice. "Morrison." Defeated, pleading. She could deal with wolves, she could deal with guns and blood. She could not deal with what lurked inside her head, the voice was going to hurt her, burn her.

Its too late.

Fear. It was burning her. "Go away ... l-leave me alone!" Whispered, determined and yet failing at portraying anything but fear. Her words were met by the voices laughter, or was it her own? Nes was sick again, she coughed, it was getting colder.

ooc: haha, nes is going crazy. i decided to let that drug give her a hallucinatory effect, because the voice is hilarious and it would mean the drug works differently on humans than wolves.

[Morrison Whelan]

(( I love it! I mean... I'ma save you!! D: ))

Perhaps Nessa'd had too much. Perhaps those last few drops had pushed her over the edge. Perhaps she had finally given up fighting withdrawal and let the crazy roam loose in her mind, like some powerful virus, and she ran. Granted, she held it in until the end of the hallway, still able to keep a thin guise of composure over herself. But once she entered the stairway, he could hear her feet booming on the metal steps. Where in the fuck was there to go at this time of night? It was here or some alleyway, really. Morrison wasn't about to let the human find herself stranded alone, so he followed after slowly, planning to stop her before she got outside. Upon entering the stairway, he knew he didn't have to worry about the stopping her part though, as he found her collapsed a few flights down, doubled over.

"Dammit," he grumbled, rushing down the stairs to get to her before she covered the landing in bile. His foot suddenly slipped and he lost his balance, causing him to fall on his knee. Nessa's scream had startled him badly. Even though he was used to hearing that sort of choked scream, almost enjoyed it, coming from the woman, it just seemed wrong. She was too brave for it. That was the sort of thing that he could evoke from his prey when they realized that he was not some nightmare, but that he was a monster. In this world, monsters were real and they killed without mercy. Nessa though, she was alone, not monsters after her except the ones in her mind. Unfortunately, the mind was insanely strong (fitting description). She could believe herself surrounded by demons bent on taking her life.

The wolf half-stumbled, half-ran, down to Nessa's level, to see her staring, horrified, at the wall. "Ja-Jason!" Who the hell? Not the voice in her head for sure, that would nameless to keep her in fear. And not that it mattered... "Morrison." Softer, pleading. She had to be in trouble now, calling out to a were to save her. Beasts like himself weren't exactly known to pass up the chance for an easy meal, which Nessa certainly was. Thankfully, he had decided a long time ago that she wasn't for eating.

He jumped down the last few steps to stand beside her and glanced up at the blank wall, expecting to see some shadow standing there. Nothing. Still, Nessa's fear was so real and frantic that he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching. "It's okay," the wolf said quietly, dropping on a knee next to her and wrapping his arms under hers. He wondered what he would look like to her, with her hallucinations. Him, trying to protect her from her visions, he could imagine that he would look like some angel, a guardian. He almost snorted at the thought, but as he secured his arms around her, something else crossed his mind. He could just as easily seem just as demonic as what was attacking her mind. Morrison held on all the tighter for it.

"Don't try to move too much," the wolf told her, picking her frail body up. He could easily restrain her if she struggled, but he didn't want her upsetting her stomach even more.

Back in the apartment, Morrison fast-walked to the bathroom. He set her down next to the toilet, lifting the seat for her, then left her and went to the guest bedroom just down the hall. The room was nearly empty, excepting a completely made twin bed and a lamp on the floor. The sheets needed changing though. He hadn't been in the room for years, yet the bed was practically drenched in dried blood, he could smell it, but he had no idea how it had gotten there. Odd that he wasn't at all concerned that something violent had clearly happened on that bed, but he was used to it. He was more concerned that it would bother Nessa. He couldn't smell it much at least, only the faintest scent of rusted metal, Nessa shouldn't be able to smell it at all.

Grimacing, he ripped the sheets off the mattress, revealing the mattress which was stained with numerous dark brown splotches. "Shit," he muttered, tossing the soiled sheets into the corner of the room. Iivan must've done this, and he didn't want to think about what that had been. Quickly, to keep himself from dwelling too long on the dirty bed, he changed the sheets and pillow cases before returning the bathroom.

"I don't think you want any more drugs in your system," the wolf said calmly to the woman, staring at the side of the room opposite to her, "but I've got some sleeping pills if that'd help." The pills might fuck her up even more, but he wanted her to feel a little better, after feeling like shit for so long.

[Nessarose Allens]

It was coming closer, the feral, white grin never ceased upon its lips and she could see the laughter burning in its fire eyes. It was going to hurt her, she knew that yet all she could do was sit against the wall staring at it. Her hands clutched around her shaking body, trying to hold herself together, trying to rebuild her will to place the voice back in her head. She could see that it was not going to happen. Could it kill her? Nes wasn't sure she wanted to find out, her eyes were wide; her mouth opened in a soundless scream. So intense was her hallucination, her fear, that she did not notice Morrison coming to stand beside her, all she knew was holding herself together, if she was whole could it still burn her? She wasn't sure she wanted to stay and find that out.

It was only when Morrison moved in front of her, blocking her vision from the creature that she realised he was there. Her eyes locked with his momentarily, the pure fear was obvious within them as well as a strange sort of relief. Had she been in her right mind she knew that she would never be able to be threatning in Morrison's eyes, not after he saw how fragile she truly was. Nes however, was not in her right mind, her head was spinning and her heart was pounding so fiercly in her chest that she feared it may give out. Nes was barely aware of Morrison lifting her, she may have protested once, but now she could see it over his shoulders and she ducked her head at once.

You cannot escape me pet, i will follow you. I will get you.

"Leave me alone," her voice was a hoarse whisper, attributing to the sheer amount of pressure the voice was placing upon her. Her whole body felt useless, broken in such a way that she was literally clinging to the parts that were threatning to fall from her. Suddenly, she felt cold tiles beneath her which only made her feverish skin burn, as soon as Morrison was out of the room - maybe even before he was, she couldn't tell - Nes vomited into the toilet, her eyes were stinging. She hurt.

I'm coming pet. Hah.

She could feel the laughter in her head and automatically pulled herself against the bathroom wall, her eyes were fixed on the door, waiting with definate horror for what she knew was going to be coming. The shaking would not be stopped, she couldn't help it, her head was spinning and shadows were chasing each other on the edges of her vision. She didn't care, Nes knew she could have coped with it all, if only the voice stayed put where it was supposed to be. Fear was potent inside of her, it had never been this bad before, why now? Why here?

But I've got some sleeping pills if that'd help.

Do you want to sleep pet? Do you want to dream?

Nessa shook her head with a resilience that was astounding in her current form. Her vision was blurred and so she stared at an approximate guess where Morrison would be standing. "Just ... make it go away." Her words were neither accepting nor denying his offer, frankly she didn't care what he did. The words were not dissimilar to ones she had spoken to Jason years ago, he'd ended up knocking her out cold. A bit rash, but it had worked. She was tired, of alot of things, but this was something she didn't want to deal with. The drugs were still in her pocket. With shaking hands she pulled them from her pocket and tossed them towards Morrison so that they slid along the tile floor. She didn't want them, not yet, not now.

"Although, you may not want a crazy person in your house." The humor fell short, it fell very short. Nes closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her face. She was hot and cold, tired and awake. She was so sick of the ambiguity.

If you sleep, you dream. Just remember who controls those.

"I don't."

[Morrison Whelan]

Fucking hell, how did he manage that bit of humor in her state? It was weak and half-hearted, barely effective, and it still managed to sting the wolf's pride. Morriosn's lip twitched dangerously, but he held in his anger, even as difficult as it was with his softly buzzing head. No more alcohol for him tonight, he feared that he might lash out at her if he really got drunk. Nessa needed calm tight now, to counteract the wild thoughts and visions in her head. He had a feeling that he could at least lessen the crazy. It couldn’t be linked to the detox, he knew every one of the chemical in the drugs and there wasn’t anything that would cause hallucinations. The withdrawal itself was the culprit for her loss of sanity. If he did succeed in forcing the demons out of her head, she would still be left with the other symptoms; fever, shaking, vomiting… all that lovely stuff.

He bent down and picked up the bag that she had thrown at him. It would the right thing for him to give her money back, since he would definitely be keeping the drugs, but he wasn’t exactly that kind, and he felt that she owed him for what he was doing for her even if she didn’t like it. The experience tonight probably wouldn’t carry with her long and she’d be back on her drugs again, though she would be completely clean in a few days if he kept her with him. The voice, that was what would pull her back down. He had noticed by now that drugs suppressed the demented thing in her mind. Could anything keep her thoughts away from the voice? Certainly it could be controlled… After glancing pityingly down at Nessa, the wolf walked into the kitchen. She couldn’t eat a thing as she was, she’d just throw it right back up, but she could at least drink something, needed to.

Morrison returned to the bathroom with a glass of water and knelt next to the woman, grunting as his stiff knees creaked and popped in protest. “Drink a little,” he commanded her softly as he could, “it’s just water.” He only added this last part to reassure her as he pressed the cup into her hand, knowing how paranoid she was at the moment. The water sloshed onto her shirt; she was unable to stay still enough, not trembling, to keep the cup straight. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders to hold her still. The shaking felt worse now and every inch of her skin was hot and sweaty… But that wasn’t sweat he was feeling, it was too thick. His fingers wandered over her skin and he quickly his hand away after running over an odd dent in her arm. Watery blood coated his fingers and it had a very faint scent, which explained why he hadn’t noticed the smell before, it had been covered up by the stink of sick.

Frowning, he turned her a little to look at her arm. There were short, ragged cuts in her skin. Nessa must’ve clawed herself, imagining that she was being attacked. He was a little worried by the consistency of her blood and its lack of a strong aroma. His best guess as to what was happening was that the detox drug acted as a blood thinner. If that was true, she could loose quite a bit of blood if the cuts weren’t closed up soon. Growling softly, he pushed himself to his feet, using the counter a little to help. This damn rain brought him stiff joints, after a few hours the humidity finally got to him. He’d gotten used to the stiffness, living in England he’d had to have, but it still bothered him.

Morrison took a few bandages from the bandages from the medicine cabinet beside the mirror before dropping back down by Nessa. Careful not to upset the scratches and cause more bleeding, he cleaned up her arm with a washcloth from off the counter. “So…” he said slowly, thinking. He needed to get her concentrating on something non-consequential to block the influence of the voice. “Tell me… about your favorite place you went to as a child.” He shrugged as he pressed one of the bandages onto her arm, it wasn’t the best, but it was all he could think of.

[Nessarose Allens]

Her arms were wrapped constrictingly around her stomach and yet it was obvious that she was shaking, obvious that she still felt sick. Any colour that had remained was now drained from her face, giving her an ashen, ghost-like appearance. Her eyes had dulled their colour as they usually did when she was ill and yet the flicker of insanity was still evident behind them. They were trained to the floor, ignoring the shape that sneered at her by the doorway, she didn't want to see it, perhaps if she could not see it them it would go away? Surely, that would work. Yet it was to no avail, she could still hear it.

Just wait until you sleep, will you wake tomorrow i wonder? Or will you continue to dream?

A small noise of protest escaped her lips and she pressed herself further against the wall of the bathroom. Her head was spinning and her gut was churning, why did she feel so horrible? She could feel the cold sweat on her skin and yet was unaware as to how it had actually got there. A muted scream fell from her lips as she raised her eyes silently, her fingers raking down her skin. There was something on her! Something was biting her skin! She wanted, needed, to get it off, but though she scratched and scratched it would not come off. This was bad, very bad.

Drink a little, “it’s just water.

Unaware of what was happening she gripped the cup that was placed in her hand and yet through the shaking it sloshed down the front of her clothing. Still, she managed to get it to her lips and only took two sips. It seemed to be mixing oddly with her stomach, or perhaps that was simply her impression at the moment. His hand went to her arm and she flinched unexpectedly. It hurt, quickly her eyes snapped to his hand, surprised to see her own blood upon it. Had he just hurt her? She frowned, no ... she hadn't felt anything like that so it could not have been him. It was those things! The voice! Her eyes snapped back to where it hovered, a sinister shadow by the doorway, blocking her escape. Its knowing smile made her skin crawl, she wanted to run, it was only Morrison's grip on her arm that held her to the floor.

Tell me… about your favorite place you went to as a child.

Oh yes! Tell us about your wonderous childhood!

Nes flinched away from her voice and slowly - as if reluctantly - turned to face Morrison as he cleaned the cuts on her arms. It took her a moment to realise what he was actually doing, why was he being so ... nice? Nes shook her head to clear her mind, closing her eyes momentarily, her body was still shaking, it was hard to concentrate. "When ... when he took me to the beach for the first time, i hated the beach it was too cold and there were so many people ... it was good cause he didn't make me do anything we sat there ... nothing. Then when that guy came, he chased him off, protected ... yeah .. then." Even the way she spoke was distracted, incoherent. Although she really was trying to remember. The 'he' she spoke of was of course, Jason. For her childhood revolved around him.

[Morrison Whelan]

Morrison's eyes remained focused on the girl's

he couldn't really consider her a woman anymore, now could he? she acted too vulnerable and weak...

arm while she spoke and he finished bandaging up the scratches. Her paranoia was so real that it drove fear into him. It wasn't so much fear that he demons would suddenly come after him, but that they would come after her with more earnest. She needed someone to comfort her to lessen the madness, for it seemed that her emotional needs had been neglected. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself to be that... loving. The wolf wasn't one for affection, it made him feel weak. He knew that this was an ignorant, bone-headed belief on his part, but it couldn't shake it, it was how the world had raised him. He soon found himself thinking that he'd rather cuddle up with the corpse of one of his meals than merely hug Nessa.

Satisfied that the plasters would hold for the night, he sat back, falling off of his stiff knees, and stared at Nessa's neck, her eyes unnerved him too much. Silently, he listened to the girl's near nonsensical talking. He didn't like where she was going, it seemed too personal and could bring up some painful memories that she would sooner want to forget. Obviously, she hadn't had a perfect childhood, no one ever had. But hers had been bad enough that she'd eventually been driven to drug abuse.

Only when she ceased speaking did Morrison realize that a soft hum had risen in his throat, as if he were subconsciously trying to block out her voice. The hum was choked off and turned into a dry, hacking cough when he finally lifted his eyes to hers. Pain and confusion lit up her pupils and irises to give her the look of a rabid animal. It was more than he could bear to look at for than a second and he averted his gaze to the back of his hand. He turned his mind to other things; sex, whiskey, prey. But it all seemed so wrong in his current line of thought and was crushed by a strong wave of guilt.

Iivan and now Nessa... He should let her leave with her drugs, she would've been happier. Happy wasn't right though, she would've been... stable. The voice wouldn't have bothered her for a while and she'd be safe from withdrawal. Always the hero, that was Morrison. He couldn't have let her go home, knowing that he had just helped perpetuate her cycle of drug use. No, he had to save her, at least try to. So, here she was. Sitting on the floor, trembling, vomiting, unable to make the smallest, snarky remark.

"You don't have to say anymore," the wolf told her quietly, glancing at her face.

After taking a deep breath, he shoved himself up onto his feet. "Try to get up," he instructed her, moving a few steps closer to the girl's slumped form. "You need to lay down." Keep her company for the night, that's what he intended to do. If she did happen to fall asleep on her own, there was no doubt that she would dream and they would probably be nightmares. He wasn't sure what he might do if she started to scream in her sleep, but he had to be there to make sure that she didn't harm herself at all.