There is nothing to lose [morrison]

[Morrison Whelan]

The hit with the umbrella was more of a jab because of the restricted hallway and was hard enough to win him a bit. Morrison fell farther back from Nessa, but didn't have much time to recover before her foot landed in his gut. There hadn't been time for him to tense up his abs against the blow, so it only pushed his diaphragm further up against his lungs, making it even harder for him to catch his breath. He bent slightly forward, wheezing, when the woman's palm suddenly came 'round to smack him in the cheek. This incurred a choked growl from the wolf as he raised his head to lunge at Nessa.

Unfortunately, Morrison had been disabled enough, however minor that was, that the human could dash past him. It didn't seem as though she was going to hit him now and there was no where for her to go, so the man took this moment to get his breath back. Then he heard plastic against glass and a snap. His head jerked up, body spinning around at the same time, to find his fears confirmed.

The woman, no lemming, was going to jump out the window. The fall could easily kill her, or at least seriously break bones. In his rage induced state, however, Morrison was more concerned that his window was now broken and he could smell fresh blood, her leg being cut open by the sharp glass. It would take her a while to get a large enough hole for her body, the window have being treated so that it wouldn't shatter or break away easily, but he didn't want to risk anything and immediately darted over to her.

"No you fucking don't," he told her loudly, colliding with her back and shoving her forward into the glass.

The window strained with the weight of their bodies, creaking ominously as it threatened to fall away and send them both plummeting to earth, but Morrison now had a tight grip on both Nessa's arms and yanked her back. Grunting, he wrestled her onto the ground then clambered on top of her, using his thighs to pin her legs together at the knees and pushing the rest of his body weight onto her shoulders by his hands. Finally! No more escaping, retaliation, or sarcastic little remarks from her, he had her under control. A manic grin spread over his face. Finally...

"Great fucking job," he snarled at her.

One of his hands slid up onto her neck, poised to strangle, suffocate. Don't kill her, his rational self chimed in. The hand was quickly yanked away and he held it hovering above her, clenched in a fist. Now what was he going to do with her? He had no idea what she was going to do if he let her up and was plain tired of having to command her. He knew he had to keep her here, but he didn't want to tie her down...

Wolf-Morrison made up the decision before any more thoughts could run through his mind. The tight fist was smashed right into the side of her head, just above her temple. He winced a bit at the sound of the impact, a hard thud, and was sure the blow would be powerful enough to knock her out. Christ, that could turn out to have been a very bad idea...

[Nessarose Allens]

How badly was he incapacitated? She knew that her kick wouldn't have hurt him all that much, it was why she had wanted a more substantial weapon, her physical strength was nothing compared to that of a wolf. She may as well be throwing punches at a wall for all the good it would have done. Nes had hoped that she would have a little time, at least to get a hole, once it was made then he could not stop her. Nes aimed another kick at the glass, it was hard to break but it worked, though she cut her foot up a little more. The glass was thick. this would take longer than expected.

No you fucking don't.

She didn't have time to think, didn't have time to move before his body collided into her own, pushing her forward into the broken glass of the window. Her hands reacted immediatly, going in front of herself to save her body from the impact, one of them landed on the edge of the glass, but it was better than it could have been. Her body remained uncut. A couple of seconds seemed like hours as the window creaked under their combined weight, Nes sucked in a breath, it would be unable to hold both their weight now that there was a hole in the middle, the strength had been compromised. However, the window was not given a chance to break.

His hands on her body wrenched her away from the window and, - though she struggle against him - he pushed her onto the floor. Effectively trapping her with his legs and the weight of his body. The reality of the situation seemed to dawn on them both at the same time, her fear and annoyance was contradicted by the manic grin on his face. Yet again he had won, and this time she didn't think she would get out so easily. If at all.

Great fucking job.

Nes wanted to snarl something in response, maybe something like 'yeah, i thought so.' But, at that moment, one of his hands slid to her neck, pressing with the slightest hint of malice. For a brief moment, she swore her heart stopped beating, but something in him denied him choking her and instead his hand lingered in a fist above her head. Nes sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes locked on his as she saw the unanswered deliberation within them. Seconds passed, before it seemed reflex kicked in.

His fist came toward her face in a pace that - to her - seemed achingly slow, she tried to move, her body writhed beneath him, but it was to no avail. She heard the crunch, she heard a whimper escape her lips. And then?

Everything went black.

[Morrison Whelan]

Back hunched, arms shaking softly, Morrison just stared at Nessa's closed eyelids. He felt so relieved to have a little peace now and to have released all that rage. A small bit of his temper still remained, his trembling attested to that, but it was directed at the damage to the house, and once that was cleaned up he would feel much better. The window would have to be replaced though and it was such a large pane of glass... He wouldn't think of that now, it was too stressful, the hole and cracks needed to be covered up for the moment.

Breathing deeply, the wolf stood and stepped away from the woman, relaxing his still clenched fingers. He didn't want to think now, he just wanted to get the apartment and Nessa cleaned up and check on Iivan. The woman was first priority. She had cut up her legs and feet pretty well with the smashed glass and the blow to her head had broken the skin, letting a steady stream of blood drench her hair. There should have been a better way to keep her under control than knocking her out, then why... No, no thinking, just movement, all mechanical.

Morrison bent down then lifted Nessa over his shoulder. She felt a bit heavier now, but he knew it was just her dead weight, her not supporting any of herself. Warm liquid trickled down his spine, blood, making him shiver and he dropped her down on the guestroom bed as fast as he could. After going to the bathroom for tweezers, gauze, and medical tape, the man dropped down beside the woman. He stared at her for a moment then whispered a small apology and pulled off the sweat pants. Tiny pieces of glass were stuck in her feet and shin and larger pieces had created long scratches down her legs.

He was able to pull every last sliver from her skin, at least the ones he could see, before he wrapped up her feet and the bottom half of her legs in gauze and securing it in place. With all the bandaging on, the human looked like she was wearing white winter boots, it was slightly amusing, yet so pathetic. The man moved to put her pants back on, but the elastic at the top and bottom pulled on the gauze too much for him to get them on safely so he had leave her bottom-less. What would she think when she woke up? Christ...

The wolf now moved to her head. Most of the blood had clotted in her dark strands of hair, but there was still a persistent trickle that ran down her head and onto the pillow it was resting on. Morrison pulled the gauze tight as dared around her head to stop the bleeding and taped it up. Finished with Nessa, he gave himself no resting time. To keep busy meant that his mind would be occupied from emotions he didn't want to feel at the moment he wanted to be finished cleaning up before the woman awoke which could be anywhere from 30 minutes to a few hours.

The window was simple enough to fix. A towel was taped loosely over the whole so it wouldn't strain the glass anymore then then tape was run over the cracks in the pane to keep them from extending any further. He swept away as much broken glass as he could an vacuumed up the rest. The cup that had first been thrown hadn't put a dent in the wall, so it was a simple matter of picking up the glass and cleaning the water. The plate that now rested on the coffee table was thrown in the sink, creating a larger chip than was already there, and he vacuumed up the crumbs from the trampled toast. The last thing to be cleaned up was the broken umbrella which had been discarded behind the sofa.

Sighing deeply, Morrison stood in the hallway to Iivan's room and stared around the apartment. Even though a few things were out of place and pushed haphazardly into places, it was clean, or as clean as he was going to get it right then. For a moment, he listened to the now silence of the house. A new noise caught his attention suddenly, coming from Iivan's room. A low, weak thumping. Oh god, he hoped the man hadn't hurt himself.

Quickly, Morrison jogged to the other wolf's room and pushed open the door. The cripple's front half was hanging off his bed and one hand was pounding against the floor, as he clearly tried to get his friend's attention, while the other clung to his throat. "Shit," muttered the wolf, moving to the bedside and hoisting Iivan back into place. He then realized why the man was holding his neck; the end of the breathing tube had been pulled free of the ventilator. Fast as he could, Morrison pushed the tube back onto the machine. A great sucking noise rushed the machine as Iivan breathed deeply.

His friend sat down on the bed, head in his hands. "How'd you do that?" he asked, turning to look at the other wolf. Iivan scribbled on his notebook for a moment then pressed into Morrison's lap.

Trying to figure out what the fuck you were doing.

Morrison smiled softly and shook his head. "Nothing, just a little row," he took a deep breath then placed the book on the man's chest. "we'll have to replace the window now though."

What?

"She tried to jump out,"

Iivan pushed the notebook back to him. What?

This launched them into quite a lengthy conversation. Morrison knew he'd have to tell his friend what had happened eventually and right now while Nessa was out cold was quite a good time.

[Nessarose Allens]

It seemed as though every time she woke it was with new injuries and a new sense of disorientation. Her eyes remained shut, her body flinched from the memory of how she had got here. What if he was still there? Nes didn't want to open her eyes to see where she was in case she was forced to acknowledge his presence. Lethargy coursed through her body, making her tired although she knew she couldn't go back to sleep. Nes needed to know where she was, she needed to know how bad the damage was. She could feel pain throughout her whole body, she knew in a couple of days she would have serious bruises, but at the moment she could not remember where the pain began from. Her head, obviously. She remembered that.

Slowly she opened her eyes, closing them again almost immediately at the light that wa shining into them. A shaky breath escaped her and she reluctantly opened them again, blinking until her eyes adjusted to the light - which was unecessarily bright. For a moment she simply stared around her - though she could see little without raising her head - and recognised her surroundings easily. The guestroom, this was the last place she had woken up with incoherency, perhaps she was going to make a habit of it. No, she remembered now; he had drugged her, that was how she had ended up here the second time. Fuck, she'd tried to jump out a window. Damn. There was no way to judge how much time had passed since she'd fallen unconscious, no way to know what the time was now. Unless, she called to Morrison, but she was reluctant to do that.

Tenitavely, she raised a hand to touch her head, finding gauze where a cut should have been. Yet, the slightest pressure on it still made her wince, that was going to leave a pretty bruise. Luckily, she thought she would be able to hide it with her - now blood covered - hair. Nessa sighed at the thought of walking into Atrum with these sorts of marks, the boys in there were assasains, trained to kill wolves. They wouldn't be mistaken into thinking she had fallen down stairs. Maybe she could call in sick, tell them she would work from home, tell them she was contagious? After all, she had her laptop, what more did she need? Apart from a strong whiskey and something better. But she wasn't going to get that any time soon.

Reminded of the glass, Nes looked down to check her feet and legs and paused mid thought. He'd taken off her pants. Fuck him. She saw the bandages worked half-way up her legs but at the moment her rational mind seemed tohave remained lost, even with the regained consciousness. She felt awkward, and yet she knew - or hoped she knew - that nothing had been done when she was unconscious. He didn't seem like that type of person, did he? Abusive ... yeah, sure, she could see that, she'd witnessed it. But ... that? Nes slowly shook her head. Moving a hand to her legs both to distract herself and check the bandages. They hurt too, great ... now her walking would be compromised. Not that she could blame him all too much for this, she'd been the one who kicked the window. Yet she knew some of the blame did lie with him, pushing her to such extreme lengths. It probably was not a good thing to lock two people who had anger issues into an apartment together.

Unsteadily she sat up, only long enough to pull a thin blanket up to her waist, she allowed herself that much dignity, the rest was pretty much trashed. Sitting up made her head feel dizzy so she rested her head on the - now bloody - pillow, once again. The waiting was half the fun.

[Morrison Whelan]

"...and I sort of had to knock her out." Morrison finished with a sigh, tilting his head back to look at the white ceiling.

Silence fell on the were's, leaving only the sucking, hissing sound of the ventilator to fill the void. The talk had taken up a good hour and half or so. At first Iivan had been eager to ask questions, pushing the notebook into his friend's hands so often that he had to stop speaking between every other sentence to read what he had said. Though very soon, the cripple was more infrequent with his questions and just lay there, staring to the side at the other wolf, disquiet etched in his features. What disturbed the man so much about what was said evaded Morrison, all he could think of was that the human's strength frightened him to an extent, unless he knew something about Nessa that Morry didn't.

Eventually, after a few minutes of quiet, Iivan let out a garbled chuckle, holding his notebook up.

Don't let her in here

A grin escaped Morrison. "Why's that? You let me in here and I'm far more dangerous than Nessa." He bared his teeth and leaned toward his friend to emphasize the point.

You won't attack me with umbrellas or daggers

"Ah, right you are," the wolf smiled, rising stiffly to his feet, body having gone rigid from sitting so long. "I've got my weapons right here in my hands and mouth." He stood over the bed for a moment, rolling his shoulders slowly. "I should get you a tv in here..." he muttered, glancing around the room as if scoping out an appropriate place for it. His eyes were quickly drawn back to Iivan, who had held his notebook up.

YES

"Alright," laughed Morrison softly, "I'll get that soon as I can. 'Have to check on Nessa now though, she'll probably be awake..." Unless I hit her too hard. He added silently, moving to the door and strolling into the hallway.

There was an air of calm around the wolf now. Surprisingly, just talking to Iivan had done him a great amount of good and most likely had helped the cripple as well, having to be stuck in his room all day without much socializing. Nessa would be easy for him to face now, or so he hoped. His temper had vanished now, having been squashed out by his friend's good humor. He had the sense that whatever insult or sarcastic remark the woman threw at him could be ignored, at least for a little while.

Approaching the guestroom door, he noted that it was still slightly ajar as he had left it, and entered the room quietly, half-expecting to find her still out cold. No such luck. He could sense rather than see that she was awake. Her long hair obscured his view of her face, so he wasn't sure if her eyes were open, but there was that presence about her that sleeping people didn't exude. A few seconds passed with Morrison just watching her before he took a long breath.

"Hey," he said, feeling slightly abashed. It was all he could muster.

What was he supposed to say? Explain away why he'd knocked her out? There really was no sensible reason for it. Ask her if she was 'alright'? That answer was obvious, of course she wasn't. There was little else that pertained to the situation, so the wolf remained silent and still, eyes drifting down to somewhere around her arms. He was beginning to feel guilty again and it made him almost wish that the woman would rush over to him and lay a few punches in his face, just to make them even.

[Nessarose Allens]

Nes inhaled sharply, the anticipation was killing her, she didn't know how long she could just sit here. But she'd been an idiot, she knew it would hurt to walk yet, she also knew that if it came down to it, she would walk anyway. Why? Because Nessa hated to show weakness, even when it was obvious in more ways than one that she had been beaten. There was no point trying to fight Morrison, he won every time. He always would. It annoyed her that she had allowed herself to be beaten so often, it made her confidence take a beating and made her question everything she'd been taught. Of course, the main part of her skills were in computers, not fighting. But ... still.

Slowly the door crept open and she fought the urge to shut her eyes and pretend to still be unconscious. It would do no good, sooner or later she would have to wake up and deal with this. Morrison stepped into the doorway, she could only make out the shadow on his face, the silence was consuming as she watched him, she knew he was watching her. There was awkwardness in the silence, yet she could also feel a stubborness, neither party would apologise not when harm had been done to both. Nes's pride had been shattered, she was not keen to destroy it more with a feeble apology.

Hey.

Again, she fought not to turn her head away at the words. Was that the best he could come up with? He probably didn't feel that he owed her anything, hell, she didn't feel he owed her anything. She didn't want his apology, she would throw it back in his face if he gave one. Nes accepted - barely - what had happened, but she could not and would not forgive him. It had taken her a while to decide what she was more angry about; the knocking out or the whole drugging business. Finally however, she decided she was more pissed at the fact he had taken her to his apartment and had fun drugging her and watching the insanity unfurl. If he had been able to see what she saw, if he had seen the voice and its fire eyes. She knew that he would not have been quite so impressed with what he'd done.

Minutes passed as she deliberated about answering him, a small sigh escaped her as she finally turned her eyes to him. "Hello." It was difficult to hide the bitterness in her voice, she did not even try, with a small - bitter - laugh she turned her head away from him. Perhaps if she could not see, she would forget?

[Morrison Whelan]

Stubborn silence was all that greeted Morrison's weak word. He wouldn't mind if Nessa stayed that way, it would be easier to just speak to her as she was, like she was a corpse. Not judging what he said or secretly fuming under the surface. However, her harsh "Hello", followed by a short laugh, was not much better than the quiet. It told him little more than what he already knew; her resentment toward him practically saturated the air.

As Nessa looked away, so did Morrison. He turned his face to the ground, half-closing his eyes. Calm, calm, calm... She had to be out of here by tomorrow, at the latest. There was a life that he had pulled her away from for the last dozen hours, but if she continued to protest against what he was doing, it would be even longer. Both of them were too hard headed to bend to the will of the other, so he would have to come up with a compromise between them, though it would easier if the woman just cooperated for a while.

"I want you out of here by tomorrow morning," he sighed, lifting his eyes once more to stare at her hidden face, "your feet should be fine by then. I'll get your clothes cleaned tonight so you can wear those home and can drive you as far as you want, if you need me too..."

The wolf trailed off slowly, brows furrowing in frustration toward her continued silence. Don't do that, his mind growled, you'll give yourself an aneurism with this wound up temper of yours. Thank god his sensible side was in control now, otherwise he'd want to toss the human right out on a curb just to be rid of her. Right now though, he needed to address what was exasperating Nessa so much. That was of course the fact that he had drugged her, it had been what set her off.

"The drugs I gave you earlier were to help you." He knew this sounded so feeble coming from him, he had to elaborate. "It put you through some sort of fast-forward detox, that's why it felt so much like withdrawal. Now, I don't know what was going on in you head at the time, but I'm certain it wasn't... fun."

He sighed deeply, lifting a hand to his chin and scratching at the stubble there. What he was saying sounded pathetic, but his mind was a bit frazzled and he couldn't think straight or be very convincing. Hopefully, she would understand what he was trying to tell her or just go along with him so that she could leave.

"I'm guessing that you're not craving a high at the moment though," he dropped the hand to his hip, pushing it into his pocket, "and if the voice in your head isn't gone, it's at least quiet; you're not talking to yourself anymore... So, the drug did help, really."

[Nessarose Allens]

Honestly she was not sure why he remained in the room, it wasn't as if she could walk anywhere at the moment. If she truly needed to, then she would bare the pain, but otherwise she would not. Besides, surely every door in his house locked, she couldn't imagine him only having a couple that locked. Why wouldn't he just lock her in? Keep her within this little house arrest sharade he was having such fun with? His determination to set things straight annoyed her, she kept her eyes from his face, staring at the wall, inclining her face away from him. She did not want to see the triumph she suspected would be there. It had been years since Nessa had been beaten, she didn't like the feeling, yet she'd never been kept locked in a house. At the moment she was feeling somewhat like an abused pet.

When he started speaking, his words were met with a continuation of her silence, she didn't care what he had to say. So she would be out of here tomorrow morning? Was that a promise? His offer to drive her was met with a smirk on her part, the last thing she wanted was Morrison to know where she lived, half the members of Atrum didn't even know where she lived. Nes lived by secrecy, and that was the way she liked it. If she decided to take him up on his offer of driving then she would allow him to drive her no further than the Millennium Bridge, exactly where they had met the previous day.

The more he talked, the closer her anger was to exploding, Nes could not control her anger, she was more or less a timebomb that would be set off at any moment. Uncontrollable anger, often rivalled by the best of wolves, although tonight it had been outclassed. Yet, that did not mean it had been prevented, merely halted.

The drugs I gave you earlier were to help you. It put you through some sort of fast-forward detox, that's why it felt so much like withdrawal. Now, I don't know what was going on in you head at the time, but I'm certain it wasn't... fun.

As soon as he began talking about drugging her, the smirk on her lips faltered and then hardened. Her staring at the wall turned into a cold glare and she clenched her jaw so as to not yell at him. Nes kept reminding herself that she had only one more day left of putting up with him. She would be gone tomorrow, if that meant she had to jump out the window, he would not stop her this time. Fun. Mentally, she scoffed at the word, what had been going on in her head had been very very far from fun, he needed an award for the understatement of the centuary.

So, the drug did help, really.

It was like adding fuel to the fire, immediately her fists clenched, visible as they rested upon the blanket she had comandeered. Her glare snapped to his face, this anger was not outrageous as it had been before, this was a simmering flame, fit to burst and was slowly burning out. "Help?! What right do you have to intervene in my life? If i wan't to fuck it up then thats what i'll do. You had no right, whatever your intentions to drug me. Whatever impressions you may have about your authority? You'd better drop them now." Her voice was icy and flat, the anger was coupled together with resignation. Her tone clearly stated that he was wrong, yet it was not looking for a fight. "I'll play nice, but only until tomorrow."

[Morrison Whelan]

That was it, Morrison was finished, he didn't have to mental capacity to deal with this woman any longer. And he was so craving fresh meat, better not keep Nessa around too long or she may become his meal. He had a feeling he could keep more self control than that, but not enough to keep himself from biting her. That would bring even more hell upon them both.

"Alright." he sighed, shoulders slumping as he looked down at his feet. "And you needn't worry about me interfering with your business any longer, I'm through. I thought maybe I'd try to make your life a bit easier, but, shit, you're just too pig-headed."

His eyes lifted for a moment to lock with hers. There was still anger there, but this rage was more dangerous; smoldering and controlled. He'd hate to see her when she finally let it loose. At least she understood that she wasn't leaving without his consent. That would keep her quiet for quite a few hours. Thank fucking god, he was sick of noise...

Leaving no time for Nessa to reply with more than a word or two, Morrison left the room, accidentally slamming shut the door behind him. His own temper had risen back to the surface, yet he could keep it under wraps and he would not let it run amuck as the wild beast inside him would so love. Right now, he just wanted to relax for a bit. Put on some music, grab his laptop and some biscuits, and wait for dawn.

He turned to the kitchen and got down a new pack of cookies before moving back into the guestroom hallway, at the end of which was his office. Inside the room it was nice and dark, as it had no windows and all the furniture was either black or deep grey, a cave where he could retreat to to cool down. He picked his computer up from off the desk then sat down on the sofa at the far side of the room. Leaning back into the soft fabric, he was all too aware of the crusted blood between his shoulder blades, being rubbed off on the cushions. He didn't want a shower though, it sounded like too much effort.

As he waited for the laptop to boot up, the wolf nibbled on a biscuit. It was a fresh pack, yet for some reason the sweet tasted stale on his tongue and did nothing to satisfy that primal want for meat. Fuck it. He threw down the cookie then went back to his computer. The desktop had popped up now so he clicked on the internet browser button. The first page that loaded up immediately featured a very busty, very naked, woman, surrounded by even more suggestive text and visuals.

Morrison frowned softly. She looked like a freak with that exaggerated pout on her lips and her hand resting on one of her all too plastic looking breasts. Disgusting. He closed down the page before opening a new one for e-mail. His supervisor would be worried (or would he be more furious?) if Morrison didn't contact him soon. He'd just say he was sick, had the flu or something. That task was finished quickly, though very sloppily. The message sent wasn't exactly too coherent, but what could you expect from someone who was incredibly ill?

Now as he started to work on finishing and refining a few chemical formulas he was experimenting with, he wondered how bored Nessa would be, unable to walk anywhere without pain. A small little smile crossed his vacant expression, imagining her setting the ceiling above her on fire with that blazing look he'd seen in her eyes earlier. Wouldn't that be entertainment?

[Nessarose Allens]

As soon as the door slamed behind him she gave a short laugh, there was anger and frustration evident within it. Nessa hated to be defenseless, and with Morrison it seemed that she was nothing other than defenseless. It annoyed her, frustrated her with its inevitability. So when the door slammed, she silently fumed at its now closed-ness. If looks could kill, if looks could burn, then this whole apartment building would burn around her. That could be interesting, it would give her a laugh. God, Nes hadn't laughed properly in ... she couldn't even think of the last time.

Boredom slowly seemed to set in; the thing she hated the most was being unable to walk anywhere to do something. She cast her eyes around the room yet it was devoid of anything interesting, she could crawl if need be ... though that would be so degrading that she could never attempt it. The anger in her eyes did not die down, even though she was alone again, her heart rate did not decrease because of the anger-fueled adrenaline that was coursing through her system. Nes needed something to distract her, to take her mind of the boiling anger. But what? She couldn't even move!

Eventually, her eyes drifted to the bedside table, noticing that there were some books on it, she snatched one easily glancing at it for a moment. It was nothing that would interest her. However, she flicked through the pages anyway, at the end of the book there was a blank page. Nes ripped it out carefully, so as not to rip the page in half, then she set the book back on the table. Her hands moved mechanically as she slowly and carefully folded the paper in various ways. A distracted smile eventually played upon her face, the only time a smile ever was on her lips was when she didn't realise it was there. Jason had taught her how to do this, origami swans, the only artform she'd ever bothered to learn.

The swan finished, she layed back, resting her head on the back of the bed and stared at it. Playing with it in her hands. The swan making had taken most of her anger, distracted her from what she felt, exactly what it was intended to do. They really were quite beautiful.

ooc: sorry its short, i had no idea what to write. :)

[Morrison Whelan]

Hours flew by as Morrison worked. It was 6:37 before he realized that the sunlight coming in from the living room windows no longer illuminated the hallway beyond his office doorway. Only a slight pang of hunger in his stomach reminded him of how much time had passed. Nessa would be even more hungry now than he was. He could imagine that she hadn't eaten anything substantial in at least that last 20 hours and her appetite should be back, no longer suppressed by illness of drugs.

Grunting, the wolf stood, placing the laptop on the love seat and gently closing it up. Hopefully, work wouldn't be too painful tomorrow; he'd gotten a lot accomplished in the last few hours and it would help research. Maybe that would just earn him a slap on the wrist from his higher ups. Not that a suspension would be too bad, he did enjoy having a few days off, but working for D.O.G.S. made him much better money than doing odd jobs for Iivan.

After stretching his legs and arms, Morrison sauntered over to the guest bedroom door. He stood outside the door, listening to determine if Nessa was awake or not. She was awake, but she should have calmed down by now, bottling up that much anger for so long would drive a person mad... again. The wolf knew that at least he felt much more serene and he'd try not to say anything to offend or rile up the human, he was tired of arguing.

He slowly pushed open the door and peaked inside the room, smiling as he saw that the woman was holding a little paper swan. He didn't mind that she'd obviously gotten the paper from one of the books on the bedside table, he never read those books, that's why they were in there on the first place.

"How're your feet?" he asked, moving fully into the room and standing away from the end of the bed. "And are you hungry at all? I could get you some more toast..." Morrison trailed off slowly and an almost kind smile spread over his lips. He found it a bit amusing that he had two cripples laying in bed in the apartment now, both incapacitated by their own stupidity. It was sweet in a cynical sort of way, how he had to take care of them. This must be how Jeena felt in her clinic, only she didn't have such a connection to her patients.

[Nessarose Allens]

So much time was passing and yet it crawled along in a snails pace, her eyes watched the walls boredly. Perhaps she had fallen asleep for an hour or so, if she had she could not remember. The time in this dull room, with its dull walls seemed to blur into itself until Nessa's whole concept of time was destroyed. She'd never have believed it unless she was in the situation where one could not even become bored because of the confusion of time. For the only thing that made her aware that time was passing was the growing hunger pains in her stomach.

It took her a moment to think, to consider as she did so how long it had been since she last ate. She'd not eaten yesterday, she'd been far too sick, today she had not eaten since she'd only had a small amount of toast before it was thrown at Morrison's head. Which mean't she had gone a little more than 24 hours with no food. That was unhealthy, yet she was one who did not see the point in eating if you were not hungry. It was a waste of food and a waste of time, surely there were better things she could be doing than eating. Her stomach growled quietly, as if to emphasize her hunger, Nes frowned. Yet she would not call out to Morrison, it hurt her pride to even consider asking him for something.

Slowly the door creaked open once more, and - as if on cue - Morrison walked in, this time he walked into the room, hovering as if uncomfortable on what to say or do. Nes almost laughed at his timing it was - she had to admit - impecable.

How're your feet? And are you hungry at all? I could get you some more toast...

Nes barely glanced at her feet, the one she had first put through the window hurt, yet the other merely twinged a little when she moved it. Both would heal in time, one would just take a little longer. Whatever the problem, she was determined that she would be able to walk when the time came, tomorrow morning. If she stayed here longer than that, there was a high chance that his apartment, and everything in it, would go up in flame. Nes was sure he wouldn't like that. "They don't hurt as much." She merely shrugged, glancing at them with a slight frown. Why the fuck had she kicked a window? She'd been irrational in her anger but seriously? A window.

Morrison looked different with a sincere smile on his expression, it was nothing like the manic one she remembered from earlier. Nes didn't know if she liked it, something in her rebelled at the thought of remembering Morrison's as nice, something else in her simply didn't care. It was interesting to note, more than anything else. "Yeah, sure, toast. Sounds good."

[Morrison Whelan]

Morrison could sense a bit of uneasiness in Nessa, he had the same feeling himself. The discomfort wasn't out of any sort of hatred either harbored for the other, it was more that neither was too sure how to act around the other now that they were both so docile. There was no need for screaming, for throwing punches or threats, it meant that civilized conversation may be difficult, especially since it was be so easy for one to offend the other. Part of the problem was that the woman wouldn't trust him too well. He had so much more control over her than he should and it put her completely under his mercy. It forced her to be on guard at all times.

"They don't hurt as much." A pause. "Yeah, sure, toast. Sounds good."

The wolf nodded once to each of her statements. "I'll be right back then," He turned to walk out of the room, but a thought struck him and he twisted around again, sticking his hand in his pocket. He pulled forth the tiny glass bottle before tossing it onto the bed at Nessa's feet. She would understand what it was, she'd seen him fingering the vile through his jeans at his implication of drugging her.

With the slightest, genuine smile, the man moved into the hall and to the kitchen. After dropping bread into the toaster, Morrison grabbed up a towel and stood over the sink. His body was a mess. Perhaps he could have cleaned up earlier when he had been working, yet he'd been too deeply engrossed in what he had been doing. He wouldn't have been so concerned about being clean, but he didn't want to put Nessa off of eating by how he looked... and smelled. That stench of sweat and stale blood bothered Morrison as well, now that he thought about it.

He washed his hands in the sink, making sure to get all the blood of the knuckles, the wiped down the rest of himself with a wet towel. The only section of his body that he was unable to reach was the top his spine and that was the worst, crusted with a line of blood. He rubbed the towel over it as best he could, but he was sure that there would still be a rusty red stain on his skin. Sighing, he checked over his torso again, just to make sure he'd gotten everything. There was a nice bruise forming on his stomach, cause by the umbrella and there were tiny cuts all over his chest, probably from broken glass. Nessa would've gotten the same had she been shirtless like him, thank god she hadn't been, admittedly, that would've been very awkward for the both of them...

A soft 'ding' indicated that the toast had popped up and Morrison went immediately to grab it up. The heat from the crusty bread felt wonderful on his skin and he was a bit reluctant to drop it on a plate, though his skin thanked him when he did, , having turned a bright, angry pink. He quickly spread butter over the pieces then sprinkled a little cinnamon over the toast, since Nessa would be able to handle the flavor now. His stomach grumbled at the tempting smell of the bread, reminding him again of his own hunger.

What was he supposed to eat though? Holding a hand to his growling gut, he opened the fridge to consult its contents. Milk, eggs, cauliflower... Ew, no. He reached in and shoved the milk aside, revealing, to his delight, a small, wrapped up cut of sirloin. a grin uncovered slowly sharpening teeth and he pulled out the meat, at once ripping off the packaging. It wasn't ideal, but it would do for now. Greedily, the wolf stuffed most of the steak into his mouth, chewing it quickly with razor sharp teeth. The little amount of blood in the meat tasted odd, like it was processed, yet it was satisfying for now and he loved the texture of the steak.

Finished with his snack, Morrison poured a glass of milk for Nessa, picked up the toast, then walked back to the bedroom. Feeling clean and at least slightly presentable now, he moved over to the bed and placed the food on the bedside table. As he pulled his hand away, he noticed a slight red tint in the condensation on the cup; he still had blood on his fingers. He wiped off the glass as surreptitiously as he could then ran his hands over his back pants' pockets.

"I'll clean your clothes in a bit," he told her, stepping back and sliding down the wall to sit, "you can keep the gauze on once you get your jeans back, if you want. They'll fit over your legs better than the sweatpants, might look a little strange though." An amused smirk curled his lips, him imagining how silly she would look with her pants stuffed at the bottoms, making it seem as if her calves had been inflated.

[Nessarose Allens]

Nes let out a small breath as the small bottle landed on the mattress beside her, immediately her eyes were drawn to the faint blue liquid. There were no words that needed to be spoken, they both knew what was in this bottle - although he would know better than she - and so, no explanation needed to be given. Slowly her hand stretched out as she grabbed the bottle, the source of her rage and maddness, she knew he was reassuring her that he would not drug her again. Part of her wanted to throw the bottle at the wall, to smash both it and what it contained. She suspected however, that he would have another stash somewhere, probably with Ivian, wherever he was.

So now she was given time to twiddle her thumbs, she disliked the feeling of being dependent, of being so vulnerable. Remaining in the house of a wolf was not something she had ever intended to do, let alone to allow herself to become so incapacitated that she had been placed at his mercy. It was probably a good thing he did not know who - or rather what - she was, as she didn't think any wolf would take too kindly to having someone from a hunter organization in their midst. She knew after this little experience, that she would have to ask one of the assasains to train her better; as soon as word got out about Atrum, people would grow suspicious of those who knew how to fight wolves. The best way was to be able to defend herself. Shouldn't be too hard, right?

Morrison barely gave her time to think before he was striding back into the room, toast in one hand and a mug in the other. Although he was still shirtless, her blood was gone from his skin and so was his. It was more than she could say for herself, she could feel the blood matting in her hair, although she knew she could not wash it until the guaze had worked its magic and ceased the bleeding. As soon as he set the toast down, he noticed something on the cup and should could not help but laugh as he wiped a small spot of blood away. "If blood bothered me, i'd not be conscious right now," owing of course to the fact that she was covered in the stuff. Nes dutifully ignored the fact that little more than fifteen minutes ago she had been unconscious, that didn't seem to matter for the minute.

A very unlady-like snort escaped her at the mention of her jeans looking strange on her legs. She took a bite of the toast, for the moment she ignored the milk, unsure whether her stomach could take it - despite it being drug free. "Regardless on my balloon-legs, i refuse to walk home without pants." The sarcasm in her voice was more good-natured now, the humor came easier and she saved a brief (yet still uneasy) for his direction. The toast was quite good, with a taste of cinnamon.

[Morrison Whelan]

"If blood bothered me, I'd not be conscious right now,"

Morrison smiled softly, glad she was still rather perceptive, that her head was not dazed. "You might not want to get that blood accidentally in your mouth though," he muttered. It was most likely cow blood, from the steak, that he'd gotten on the glass, but it could be his own blood, since he might have received a few nice nicks on the fingers and not noticed. Not that such a tiny amount of were-blood would do her any harm. At least, he didn't believe it would.

Another smile touched his expression at her snort. "Regardless on my balloon-legs, i refuse to walk home without pants." It was nice to know that Nessa had a sense of humor, even if she couldn't get away from the sarcasm. The insincerity in her voice didn't touch him in the way it had earlier either, it was too light-hearted to get to him. In fact, the smallest grin pulled on the corner of his lips. "You have to admit though, the gauze almost works as well as pants." The wolf glanced down at his hands in his laps then looked back up at the woman, half-smiling. "Not that you'd have to keep the bandages on that long, your legs are only nicked but not deeply cut."

The wolf now noticed the vile of detox resting by her hip. He was a bit surprised that she hadn't thrown against a wall, to retaliate against what it had done to her (even if it'd helped, when would she realize that?). There was a part of him that wished she had broken it, to show that stress that she was suppressing, but he would have absolutely hated having to pick up after her again. Perhaps she was afraid that he'd find a way to drug her again later, certain that he'd have a large supply of whatever it was somewhere else. There actually was very little more detox in the house; Iivan didn't like to mix too much of it at a time, it expired too quickly. At least she was eating now, and rather well for just becoming conscious.

The phone started ringing in the kitchen. He ignored it determinedly, not wanting to speak to anyone on the phone right now. If it were that important, they would leave a message for him. It might be his supervisor again, to check up on him, having received his e-mail earlier. Or it could be Jeena to talk about Iivan, to make sure that she wouldn't have to come in a take care of him any time soon. Or it could possibly be Meadhbh, she had wanted to speak to him, but he was waiting for her to come to his apartment building, afraid of saying too much over the phone. Though he wasn't worried that she hadn't come over yet, the woman was just being careful.

(( Should I let Morry learn about Mavey's demise and spice stuff up a bit (a lot...)? Or would you like to just speed through the night and finish up? Hm? ^_^ ))