There is nothing to lose [morrison]

[Nessarose Allens]

ooc; it's up to you, but i'd be cool with letting morry learn about her death, it would be interesting. and, sorry for the late reply, school has been hectic.

His warning about not letting the blood get in her mouth made her freak out momentarily. Although it didn't show up particularly well on her external features, it was all Nessa could do to retain her hold of the glass. Don't drop it. She chanted this to herself over and over, it seemed to have a calming effect on her for she did not drop the glass. Her hand ceased its shaking, the shaking caused by the momentary, irrationality of the fear that had shot through her. Not become a werewolf, not now, not ever. She would kill herself if that happened, there was no doubt in her mind. Not to mention Atrum would kill her, but she would never give them the chance.

"Not that you'd have to keep the bandages on that long, your legs are only nicked but not deeply cut."

That thought cheered her up from the morbid mood she'd found herself in, she glanced down toward her legs with a reflective frown marring her expression. How long was 'that long'? Perhaps, by the time she left tomorrow, or today, or whenever she left, they would be alright to walk on and to wear without bandages. That would certainly be better for her, and it would be less to explain should she bump into any of her colleagues. The cut to her temple would be easy to hide with a bit of make-up, it would be the 'black eye' she could already feel that would be the hardest to hide. All in all, her physical injuries did not outweigh the mental ones, but she'd been hiding the mental ones for years. What were a few more to add to the basket? "How long until they can come off?" She moved her hand in a light gesture toward her legs, genuine curiosity leaked through her tones with hope accompanying it.

When the phone started ringing, she dismissed it at first. Yet, he constantly ignored the phone, the ringing was becoming constant and she twitched her fingers in annoyance. Constant ringing was something she never dealt with well, it annoyed her on the same level as piercing noise and overly-bright lights. Nes glanced at Morrison, raising her eyebrows expectantly as she did so. "You gonna' get that, or shall i?" Sarcasm once again marred her tone, not that she was serious, she would never answer the phone in a strangers house - well, she might - and she doubted he would allow her to.

[Morrison Whelan]

(( Mmkay ^_^ And it's okay, same with me... =P ))

Morrison couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the way her eyes widened when he commented about the blood. He was nearly sure that it was blood for the steak he'd eaten, but still, better to be safe. Her glass shook softly in her hand as she picked it up yet he wasn't worried that she would drop it, for she was surely not that easily freaked out. Was she? Perhaps not, since she soon settled down and relaxed once more.

"How long until they can come off?" She asked right before the phone started to go off.

"A few hours at the most," he shrugged, glancing at the doorway as if that would help him determine who it was calling him.

"You gonna' get that, or shall i?"

The wolf slowly shook his head, turning his haze back to the woman. "I don't think I should..." He trailed off as the phone ceased ringing and a the answering machine picked up. A familiar voice sounded from the speakers and echoed through the living room.

"Morrison," It was Jeanna and she sounded a bit stuffy. "Morry, pick up, I know you're there." Her voice shook at the end, as though she were on the verge of tears. What was so wrong that she should be shook up like this? Was she concerned about Iivan? No, she knew he was fine, Morrison would have called her.

Quickly, as to make sure that she didn't hang up before he reached the phone, Morrison jogged into the kitchen and pulled the phone up, pressing the speaker end to his ear.

"Hey," he said softly, as to not cause her any further distress by sounding urgent. "What's wrong?"

His words were only met by quiet sniffling as the human tried to collect herself. Morrison waited for her and soon she took a deep breath before speaking. "Meadhbh," Jeena hiccuped, "she's dead."

The wolf's jaw dropped a few inches as the word pounded through his head. "Dead?" he squeaked, voice unwilling to cooperate. "You're not serious..." Of course Jeena was serious, she was never one to joke and almost exploded whenever Morrison would poke the slightest bit of fun at her. "Are you sure...?"

"Yeah," she said, voice cracking with emotion. "She called me the other day but she wouldn't pick up when I called back... I went to her house to check up on her and... and she wasn't there. I called her cell and everyone I knew that she's in contact with... She just vanished, Morry. You know she wouldn't just disappear like that..."

Silence fell between them, Jeena letting the news sink into the wolf's mind. All he could think of was that it was his fault. Meadhbh had told him about the conversation she had accidentally heard, about how worried she'd been... He'd only told her to stop speaking on the phone and find herself someone to guard her. He, himself, should have been there to protect her. The situation perhaps hadn't seemed that serious at the time, but he always aired on the side of caution. Yet this one time, he'd thought he'd be too busy with work to look after her, thinking that of course she could look after herself and keep herself safe. But no, Izan, whatever the hell that was, had assassins skilled enough to take her out. Perhaps they'd had a sniper...

"Thanks Jeena," he whispered before quickly hanging up the phone. Thanks? What the fuck was a he thankful for? Knowing that his closest friend was dead? No, ignorance, at least for a while, was bliss.

A empty feeling was settling itself in his gut as grief sunk in. He wasn't 100 percent sure at the moment if Meadhbh was indeed dead, but he knew Jeena well enough to be sure that the human would have tried her best to find the wolf, and she hadn't. It was a very ominous sign indeed. And even if the other wolf wasn't dead now, Morrison was positive that she soon would be. There was no hope of saving her and he felt helpless, being unable to do anything for his friend.

Now his thoughts slowly turned to Nessa. What would he do with her for the night? He couldn't stay with her any longer and talk, he no longer had the emotional capacity for that. And at the same time he would hate to leave her alone in the room again, bored out of her mind. Perhaps he could plop her down in front of the television and he could speak with Iivan or just wallow in his room with his whiskey.

"Nessa," he called out to her as loud as his tight throat would allow, moving over the guest bedroom again. He stood in the door for a moment, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. "I can't... I..." A crushing wave of sadness suddenly plowed into him, making it difficult to breath, much less speak. Not wanting the woman to see the tears that were threatening to fall down his cheeks, Morrison spun away from the doorway and slid to the floor beside the door frame, holding his head in his hands and weeping silently. He felt ridiculous, like a child, yet he couldn't stop himself...

[Nessarose Allens]

Immediately, as the phone ceased its ringing and the machine snapped automatically to the answering machine; she stopped her words and her eyes were fixed on the kitchen, she couldn't see it from where she was, but she could hear clear enough. The voice on the line was female, it did not sound like the female she'd seen with Morrison when they first met, it sounded ... upset, in fact it sounded on the verge of tears. For some reason, Nes felt an uncomfortable vibe, anticipation raced in her veins. It seemed that something had a stronger effect on Morrison as he jumped up and all but ran to the kitchen.

What happened next, she could not hear. The voices were too low for her mediocre hearing to distinguish. All she knew was that the silence disturbed her, and filled her with a fear that was not quite for herself. Fear for Morrison? Since when had their 'friendship' advanced to that stage? Nessa sat up, no longer leaning against the headrest, her body position was alert, yet she could hear nothing other than quiet murmurs.

It seemed an eternity was passing, all she could hear was her own shallow breathing, the silence was deafning, in every sense of the irony. Silence overwhelmed her senses, the kind of silence that greeted horrible news. Something was wrong, but what? Finally, he called out her name. The sound startled her, his voice sounded controlled and yet it cracked in a way that could only signify pain of some sort. Immediately, she was concerned. Her irritation almost consumed her as she waited for him to appear back in the room; when he did, she almost wished he would turn around again. He looked distraught, confused, hurting. She averted her eyes from his face, it was clear he was trying to hold back tears.

"I can't... I..."

He turned away yet did not get far before he slumped to the floor. From where she was she could hear the quiet sobs, she could see his back moving with the effort of them. Something was seriously wrong. Morrison had helped her, even if it was in a backward and somewhat threatning mannor, she was obligated to do the same. Nes stumbled from the bed, ignoring the mild pain in her feet - he'd been right, it wasn't as bad as she guessed - and she stumbled toward where he kneeled. She was mildly aware of the fact she wore no pants, at the moment she could not find it in herself to be embarrased.

Her hand extended and she knelt slightly beside him, resting a somewhat nervous hand on his shoulder. "Morrison ..." Her voice was quiet, and oddly tender, like seeing him in such pain had brought out something different in her. Nes didn't know what had happened, she didn't know what to do, so she simply rested her hand on his shoulder and knelt next to him in silence.

[Morrison Whelan]

"Morrison..."

Nessa's voice startled him into looking up at her and a hiccup escaped him. He couldn't very well make out the expression on her face, his eyes being so blurred with tears, though he had to imagine that it was one of great concern or pity... Either way, the wolf was glad to have her there, he was glad just to have anyone there. He just suddenly felt so lonely.

"Meadhbh," he whispered shakily to her, trying his best to blink away his tears, "she... she's..."

Morrison's mouth gaped for a moment and he looked down, finding himself unable to speak anymore through the renewed tears forcing their way to the surface. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to explain the situation clearly to the human now. Every time he opened his mouth, he remembered the painful emotions that had begun twisting his gut. Falling back to sit against the wall and pulling his knees up to his chest, he let himself cry. But he remained silent. Although his mind needed him to scream, to wail, he would stop himself from doing so, even if it gave him the worst, throbbing headache. To yell would mean admitting the fear and pain that raged inside him.

For what seemed like a hour, though it was really only a minute or so, Morrison cried quietly, rocking softly back and forth, his nerves getting the better of him. He expected the grief to settle down for a moment so he could breath, yet he only felt worse and worse, his head started to hurt in protest of his bottling up of expression. His red eyes lifted slowly to look up at Nessa beside him, as if he would find an answer there. To see her made him feel even worse. A loud sob finally pressed itself from between the man's lips, making him let go of his bottom lip which he had been biting too firmly.

"I fucked up," he choked out, before leaning into Nessa and slowly curling his arms around her.

It felt wonderful to have her warm body pressed against his, comforting in a way. He didn't care if she now thought him weak or pitiful, or if she thought it odd that he should suddenly embrace her. Not even the strongest man, with a normal emotional capacity, could stave off the strong grief that he felt at the moment. Barely noticing that he was doing it, he started to run a hand over the human's matted hair, leaning his head on her shoulder and creating a damp spot on her shirt from the tears that had collected on his chin. No, it was Meadhbh's shirt, had been... The thought only made his weep harder and he shut his eyes tightly, unsuccessfully stopping any tears falling to Nessa's shoulder.

[Nessarose Allens]

"Meadhbh, she... she's..."

Dead. That had to be the word he could not pull, the word that his mind would not allow him to speak. Meadhbh, that had been the other girl at the castle, the one who had tried to eat her and yet had not, the one she'd met in the park that time when she met the vampire. Dead? How was that possible? Nes would be lying if she said she felt remorse for Meadhbh's death, she had not known her, and the fact that she was a wolf prevented her from feeling as strongly as she might. For some reason, the remorse that came was for the reaction it brought out in Morrison, it was not right for him to appear so weak, she could not speak, only look at him, her hand tightened on his shoulder.

Nes did not think him weak for the grief that was consuming him, she did not think the tears streaming silently down his face were a sign of weakness, it was pain, she would think him strange if he did not feel it. When Jason and her mother had died, she didn't think she stopped crying for weeks, when she did it was sudden and drugs helped her through it. Everyone dealt with grief different, if Morrison was not screaming at the human he hated to get away from him, he needed someone there. To be there for him, it was the least that she could do.

"I fucked up,"

A slight gasp escaped her as he wrapped his arms around her, at first her body tensed, but she relaxed slightly. Somewhat without her thinking it, her hands moved to his back, attempting to comfort him without words. For what could she say? It wasn't his fault, how could it have been? He'd been here, he wasn't the one who killed her. "You didn't ... it's not your fault," her words were muttered, comforting and soothing, something she didn't think she was capable of. She wanted the old Morrison back, the one who would punch her to feel better, not hold her.

He leaned his head on her shoulder, feeling the tears he shed dampen the shirt. Was this hers? It must've been, suddenly she felt worse for wearing it. Unconsciously Nes stroked the back of his head, trying to calm him. She was out of her depth here, she didn't know how to comfort him. Would simply being there, be enough?

[Morrison Whelan]

A hiccuping sob shook Morrison's body for a second at Nessa's words. She had no idea. He could have stopped Meadhbh's murder if he'd gone to stay with her after she'd told him about the suspected spies. Yet, he hadn't really taken the threat to her life as seriously as he should. He'd thought it had been some small organization, one that didn't have to resources to track the wolf down. His friend's death meant that it was a bigger group, and better connected, than he had previously thought. Perhaps he would even be in trouble himself if they knew that he'd had any knowledge of spies.

Over the next few minutes, the man's tears came faster and the grief tightening his throat made it difficult to breath. He opened his mouth to take a breath, but instead he let out a deep, tortured groan. Knowing that he would be unable to stop any more noise leaving his lips, he just rode with the distress. Soon, the moan had transformed into a soft scream, but only for a moment, then faded to the quietest whine. It had made him feel the slightest bit better and now he could breath properly, but the tears wouldn't cease and continued as unrelenting as a river.

For the next... Well, he had no idea how long, but it seemed like forever that Morrison sat against the wall with the woman tightly held in his arms. She smelled... comfortable. Musky with dried blood and sweat and human, sweet and warm. It calmed to a certain extent and he believed that if she hadn't been there, he would be yelling his head off, angry with the world and bitter toward himself. So he was very glad that she was with him, even if all she could do was hold him and be there, silent and concerned. He wouldn't have blamed if she had just left him alone, he'd have been an ass toward her earlier. It made her kindness even more genuine.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the wolf pulled away from Nessa, taking deep breaths to calm nearly spasmodic sobs. His red eyes lifted to the woman's for moment as he fell heavily into the wall, hiccuping softly now that his crying had settled down. His mind felt blank now, having thought of so much while he was shedding his tears, and it was as if his brain was protecting him for now. Thank god for small favors... However, there was still a lingering tightness in his chest, hinting at his remaining grief. He wanted to get rid of the remaining stress, his breathing still being a bit difficult.

Without really thinking, Morrison leaned into Nessa swiftly and planted his lips firmly against her own. The kiss only lasted for a microsecond before the man yanked himself away, realizing what he was doing. His brows drew together, a look of shame crossing his face, and he slumped onto the wall, staring at the ground between his legs. He wished he hadn't done that... It had barely felt like anything, numb as he was, and only made him feel worse again. Damn his impulses...

[Nessarose Allens]

She didn't need to see the emotion upon his expression to know that it lingered there, the coughing hiccups and the sobs and tears were enough to know the extent of the distress he was experiencing. The only thing constant in life is death; yet that does not make death any easier to experience. In some ways it was easier to be the one dying, for they were not the ones left behind to deal with the guilt; the pain; and the grief. Maybe that was why Nes had cut all ties with the outside world, so that she would have nobody to mourn? In fact Morrison was the only person she'd become relatively 'close' to in years, it wasn't friendship, but she wouldn't be here if they were enemies. Ah Morrison, caused such controversy that he would never be aware of.

A groan, that swiftly crescendo'd into a small scream escaped him and - for a moment - she held him tighter, the sound scaring him almost as much as he would regret it. She knew he hated showing this 'weakness' not because she knew him as such, but because she knew his type of person. She patted his back in comfort, letting him cry onto her shoulder with no distaste. For the moment she would ignore the fact he was a wolf, she would ignore the fact she had no clue how to handle this situation, he was Morrison, and that was enough.

Finally he pulled away from her and she sat back, kneeling still close to him. They watched each other, her eyes full of concern and his full of a numb regret. He blamed himself, she didn't want him to, these things happen, but this was not the time to bring that up. Morrison took deep breaths, trying to calm himself? He wouldn't be the same after tonight, not for a while at least. Nes was so wrapped up in her concern that she didn't see him moving forward and didn't really process it until she felt his lips firmly against her own. Though he pulled away just as quickly, she tasted the desperation in the kiss, her heart accelerated immediately and for a minute both their eyes were dropped to the ground.

Nes looked up, seeing him slumped against the wall, her heart went out to him. Slowly she reached out a hand, guiding his chin up so he looked at her. "It's alright, you know." It would take his mind off Meadhbh, would it make the grief easier on him? She couldn't know, nobody had been there for her, she only had to assume. Besides, what did Nes care? She would do what she could to help, whatever that meant. With almost a shrug, Nes dropped her hand glancing at the wall over his shoulder, not really looking him in the eyes.

[Morrison Whelan]

Morrison neck stiffened at the touch of Nessa's hand. He didn't want to look at her any longer, he just wanted to be alone. Yet, her hand was so gentle and soft that he was moved to look up at her. His eyes drifted onto her and was comforting to see what was there. She didn't gaze at him with pity or disgust, just simple concern and empathy. He was incredibly glad that wasn't on drugs anymore...

"It's alright, you know."

The woman's hand dropped from his chin, letting his head droop and his eyes move back to the floor. It was good to know that she hadn't minded the kiss. Physical contact was helping him feel a bit better at the moment, knowing that there was someone there, someone tangible, someone alive. A sweet, slow fuck might have been wonderful for him, but he wasn't ever going to impose that upon Nessa, they didn't have that kind of relationship. He wasn't quite sure what their relationship was anyway. Besides, just hugging the human had helped enough to stop his tears for the next hour or so. They would be back with a vengeance once he regained his strength, but he could be calm for now.

The wolf took a deep, shaky breath, and pushed himself to his feet, pressing on the wall to help him keep steady. Vertigo rushed at him as he stood straight, making the hallway spin wildly. He lifted a hand to his forehead, head feeling light. The dizziness passed quickly and he blinked to clear little spots out of his vision. As he started to make his slow, wobbly way to the kitchen, he noted that his ass was rather sore. How long had they been sitting there? He glanced at the clock on the stove. 9:31. Damn, he'd cried for more than two hours, no wonder is bottom was sore and he'd been light-headed.

Approaching the sink, he stretched out a hand to grab onto the counter and steady himself. He then knelt down, still using the granite-top to keep himself from falling, then pulled out the bottle of vodka before placing it on the counter. After pushing himself back to his feet, he moved to a cupboard to grab down a glass. For a moment, he stood looking down at the liquor, holding the bottle in his hand. He wanted to numb out even more, not to feel a thing, but he was slightly afraid to drink. He usually tried to stay away from alcohol when he was feeling strongly toward anything, and he certainly was (had) having strong emotions.

With a sigh, he shoved the bottle back under the sink. Right now was not the time to get drunk. It wasn't a healthy way to deal with grief, it would only fuck him up more than he was already. Instead, he took out a Coke from the fridge. He had an affinity for American soda-pop, it was wonderfully bubbly and sugary. He poured the can into his cup then moved into the living room. Slowly, almost afraid that he'd hurt his behind, he sat down on the sofa then propped his feet up on the coffee table. The wolf waited for a moment for his residual hiccuping and sniffling to subside before taking a sip of pop. There was little taste, his tongue dry from breathing through mouth, but the feeling of the carbonation compensated for that.

[Nessarose Allens]

Sitting with Morrison at the moment was like doing acrobatics while holding an eggshell. You never knew which move would shatter the fragile shell, all you knew was that you had to keep it together for as long as possible. Nes was tredding on ice here, and she wasn't sure whether her being there was actually doing any good. He seemed to accept that she did not hate him for the suprise kiss; though he did not acknowledge it with words, she did not need him to. It was obvious enough as it was. With a heavy sigh he lifted himself to his feet, the simple way with which he moved made her think that he had lead weights attached to him, his emotions were still dragging on him, dulled by the numbness.

Morrison ambled to the kitchen, his pace slow and wobbly however he did not ask for any assistance. Nes remained where she was, kneeling on the ground as she watched after him. She knew she had pins and needles in her legs, knew that kneeling for ... however long she had been, was probably not the best way to let her legs heal. How would they be now? She heard him in the kitchen, opening cupboards and retriving a glass from another one. Glancing down at her legs again, she wasn't too sure whether she trusted herself to stand, at least she could test it here where she could easily just walk back to the bed if her legs hurt to much. Half of her didn't trust Morrison to be alone, half afraid that he'd do something rash.

With a deep breath she pressed against the wall to help herself to her feet, wincing at the pain that shot through her right leg. That had been the one she'd kicked the window with, her left leg was fine, it didn't even hurt. Nes allowed some of her weight on her right leg, immediately stumbling. Ah well, a momentary limp was better than nothing. She sighed and - ignoring the shoots of pain - she walked slowly toward the kitchen.

Seeing him in the living room, she lent against the kitchen bench, allowing her weight to go on her left leg. Coke, that was a safe option, it could be worse. Alcohol, is what most usually resort to. For Nessa, it would have been drugs. She searched for something to say, yet came up with nothing, what was there to say? "Do you want anything? Food or ..." Sure that was always a good start, he would need to eat wouldn't he? She hadn't seen him eat anything since she arrived, unless he had during the periods she couldn't remember.

[Morrison Whelan]

Blinking slowly, Morrison looked up at Nessa who stood at the kitchen's island. She seemed as unsteady as he had been walking. Her leg must be paining her more, since she'd been resting on it for such a long time without moving and the muscles were already overworked and sore. He would have gotten up to help her, but his body was as used up as his mind and he couldn't muster the strength to move. Instead, it wasn't Nessa's turn to take care of the wolf, no matter how ironic it felt to him. The emotional blow he'd received by Meadhbh's death was just as powerful in incapacitating him as a crowbar over the head might have been, only worse. The repercussions mentally would never go away, unlike a physical injury, and there was a chance he'd not be the same ever again after today. Eventually, he knew he'd have to slip back into some version of normalcy, but he had the slightest sinking feeling that his future would involve a lot less smiling.

"Do you want anything? Food or..."

Morrison pressed his eyes tightly shut for a moment, warding off the tears that still lingered there, before focusing once more on Nessa. "No," he croaked, glancing down at his pop and taking another sip. He had no appetite at the moment, at least not for normal food. He needed human meat, though he was sure that he wouldn't be able to go hunting for a long time. Perhaps he could find someone to hunt a meal down for him, he certainly had enough money to pay someone to.

"There's aspirin in the cupboard behind you," he told her quietly, thinking about her injured leg. His gaze then moved down to his lap and for a while he concentrated on breathing alternately between his mouth and nose. It calmed him to the point where exhaustion took over and his eyelids started to droop, threatening to close and let him fall asleep. Yet, he wasn't going to let himself doze off, not now. He was afraid nightmares would great him and that would be no better for him then staying awake. He'd be as tired as he was now in the few hours of tortured he'd get.

Lazily, Morrison grabbed up the remote on the coffee table then leaned back once more, switching on the flat-screen television that hung on the wall across from him. He flipped through the channels for a few seconds before settling on a show about medical mysteries. It was relieving to hear about other people's problems than to concentrate on his own and staring at the bright screen was so mindless, it helped to further numb him up. For those few minutes he had forgotten about Nessa, until commercials came on and he looked around to see the woman still standing in the kitchen. "Come and sit," he invited her, hand extending out to pat the cushion beside him. Her company was greatly appreciated and he wanted to keep her close for now.

[Nessarose Allens]

He didn't want food, or anything. When his eyes were closed she surveyed him closesly, he was fighting the potential tears with everything that he had, it seemed that his entire body was working to keep the grief from being overwhelming. She vaguely wondered how long he could prevent it before it consumed him, he'd have to let it go sooner or later or it would become unhealthy. How was she supposed to help him? She suspected that the silence was doing no good and yet she couldn't think of anything to talk about that wouldn't somehow relate back to death and thus, to Meadhbh.

Asprin, at first she didn't realise why he'd said this, before she understood that he'd noticed the limp. Nes grinned sheepishly, though this motion was fleeting. She turned to the cupboard behind her, staring into it blankly for a moment before finding the packet. She'd been using pills for so long that she no longer needed water to swallow them; which was good as she had no clue where the cups would be located. She took one of the tablets before returning the packet to where it had been.

The TV channels changed quickly and she turned to find Morrison flicking through the channels, trying to find one suitable to take his mind of things. Nes watched him with slight fascination, his strength of mind was strong, even if he was suffering turmoil under the surface, he was able to hold back the grief. It was admirable. Immediately when he looked back at her she dropped her gaze, watching him gesture at the couch. Slowly she made her way around, her leg was already feeling a little better, the asprin kicking in quite quickly. It didn't matter to be honest. Nes ignored the fact she wasn't wearing pants, the gauze acted as pants, and she didn't figure that he or she was in the mood to care about that.

Perching on the couch next to him, she allowed herself to relax into it slightly, though she could not stop her eyes from moving from the TV back to Morrison, just to make sure he was ok. Medical shows were not really her forte, and she couldn't help but think that watching a medical show where there was a potential for death; was not the best idea at the moment. Nes remained silent, in case this fact had escaped him. Strangely, she was more comfortable around Morrison now, perhaps that was because all the fighting was done, maybe it was because from the first time since they'd met, they were now on equal ground. "What is this?" Nes gestured at the Tv screen, her attempt at making conversation fell short, obvious enough that even she could hear it.

[Morrison Whelan]

Morrison stared at Nessa, moving over to him, until she sat down beside him, then he turned his eyes back onto the television. "What is this?" He merely shrugged in response, taking a long draft of his Coke as an excuse to stay quiet. Conversation was too difficult at the moment. All he could think about was that he wanted sex, a drink, and, most of all, Meadhbh. There weren't many other topics that would be safe and that he could also be engaged in. Silence was safe for him now. Silence meant that he wouldn't accidentally let the wrong word or the wrong word slip and send himself spiraling into tears all over again. He was so afraid of speaking that he kept the glass in his hands pressed against his lips so that his mouth would stay shut.

His mind went blank for the next few minutes as he continued to stare, almost unblinking, at the screen, not really focusing on the story, but enjoying the moving pictures. Unfortunately, his brain soon grew bored of this monotonous mindlessness and stared to wander and think once again. To distract himself from any unwanted thoughts that were springing to life, Morrison chugged what remained of his pop. But he drank it too fast and drew away from the cup, sputtering and coughing. His drink sloshed onto the floor as his body was racked with a coughing fit and he was only able to stop by forcing himself to take another drink.

Gasping softly, the wolf leaned forward, placing the cup safely on the coffee table, before sitting back, frowning deeply; he was not having any luck today... His lip started to tremble in his frustration and he reached to the side for Nessa's comforting touch. The first thing his hand came in contact with was the woman's leg and he curled his fingers onto her thigh. He wouldn't blame her if she yanked herself away from his touch, even he might admit that he was being a little weird. But he held onto her leg despite that, feeling the warm skin and soft little hairs under his fingers, so unlike the rough stubble on his chin.


Morrison sighed the slightest bit, mouth relaxing back to a straight line, as he fell back against the cushions, still staring up at the tv, his hand still on Nessa's leg. There was a doctor on the screen now, talking about odd protein counts in blood samples and blah blah blah... The wolf could have cared less, really. Usually, this kind of show fascinated him, but he was too tired to concentrate and the scenery of hospitals that were featured was familiar. It was also a show he was certain would not include death, he'd seen enough exactly like it before to know that it had a happy ending where the afflicted person went on to live a 'normal' life. His life was a little like that, he certainly had the strange disease part down, but it wasn't going so well with the 'normal' part, or the happy ending.

[Nessarose Allens]

Nes got the point quickly, Morrison didn't want to talk at the moment, perhaps he couldn't. She watched the television with slight disinterest, something of a frown playing upon her expression. It wasn't because of the channel they were watching, though people's 'medical mysteries' held no appeal to her. The frown was brought on by confusion as to what she was supposed to do to help Morrison. It had consumed her for the better part of two hours and yet she could still not discover an answer. Sitting with him, being with him, seemed to be enough to keep him moderately sane. But how would that end? She couldn't stay here forever, they both had things they needed to do.

His coughing fit took her by suprise and she immediately turned to face him. watching him with eyes that were slightly widened. It was accidental, simply drank his drink too fast. Even this small moment told her that he was not coping mentally; he was not coping with the stress and grief that was currently consuming him. Meadhbh's death effected him greatly, to the extent that Nes did not know how to comfort him, his movements were making her nervous with their sheer randomness.

Hand coming into contact with her thigh she jumped slightly, when she glanced at Morrison she saw his lips trembling, though he clamped them together with determination on his expression. Slowly - almost reluctantly - his face relaxed, the contact with her seemed to be doing the trick for him. Nes lifted her hand from her lap, placing it softly on top of his; the small movement saying so much without actually voicing the words that she was here for him. A friend? Perhaps in some wayward way that was what she had become, though the relationship was still unclear to her.

She watched him as he watched the televison, the programme having not caught her interest. He seemed calmer when in contact, although the tension and the pain was still there. Nes suspected that it would be there for a long time yet.

[Morrison Whelan]

A soft sob voiced itself when Nessa's hand rested on top of Morrison's. The woman was being too kind for him; he just wasn't used to it. Usually, when he showed any sign of weakness, he was taken advantage of, because so often he was a very, very strong person, and could be incredibly uncaring, cruel almost. Not that he was at all upset for the human's comfort, he was rather grateful for it, it was more the fact that he was deeply touched by her concern, to the point where it scared him. Besides Iivan, Jeena, and Meadhbh, he hadn't opened up to anyone this much in decades. Granted, he would have shown this much emotion to anyone in such a situation, but with Nessa actually caring that he had, it meant that she could at least be qualified as a friend. No mere acquaintance would have stuck around and let him cry on their shoulder.

The sound of the tv buzzed in the back of Morrison's mind, he was concentrating on listening to Nessa's breathing, which relatively sow and steady compared to his own jerky, shallow breaths. The sound of her breath lulled him to calmer state where he no longer felt the urge to cry; a slightly throbbing headache was the only thing that reminded him of the tension in his body. Exhaustion was finally taking him over; he couldn't fight it any longer. How long had it been since he'd last slept properly? Certainly he hadn't gotten a full night's sleep since Iivan had been maimed, Morrison having stayed up almost every night worrying about him, and it had been at least 30 hours since he had actually slept. Add in the emotional strain he was under, and it was very surprising he hadn't passed out an hour and two ago.

Now, he was perfectly willing to drift off so he wouldn't have to think anymore. Sighing loudly, the wolf sat further forward on the couch then rested his head on Nessa's shoulder. His eyes drifted back to the tv screen, knowing how well it would dull his mind and let him sleep. Sometimes, when he was too worried about something to sleep well, he'd lay down in front of the television and it would do the trick, not having to think about what he was doing and being preoccupied with whatever was on the screen. This method hadn't worked with Iivan's situation, but then he hadn't been able to relax at all, no amount of alcohol had helped him. However, at the moment, he had released as much stress as he could and within minutes he was snoring softly, all of his body weight falling against Nessa.

[Nessarose Allens]

She started counting slowly in her head from when he rested his head on her shoulder to when he fell asleep. In her counting, though it may not have been entirely accurate, he did not even make it to five minutes. Grief took alot of energy from a person, sapped it as if it needed the energy for fuel. It did not suprise her that exhaustion had befallen him, for surely he had not slept in a while, in at least 24 hours, maybe even more. So when he slept, she did not shift at all, not willing to wake him from the sleep he so desperately needed. In one way she was more comfortable now that he was resting as she was not constantly making sure he was ok, there was something peaceful in sleep, as if time would stop. Nothing mattered, it only mattered when you woke up.

Although she sat with the medical programme still playing, she did not pay attention, she had not being paying attention since it had been turned on. It did not interest her. Instead, her mind wandered. What would happen after this? She would leave, would they meet again? Morrison may have succeeded in giving her a momentary detox, but drugs were far too imprinted in her life for her to give up on them so easily. They were her vice, her forgetting, her addiction. Nes needed them for without them, life became just that little bit harder. If she did see Morrison again, she would have to make sure she didn't have drugs in her system, at least to give the impression that she was trying. Although, if Atrum found her 'hanging out' with a wolf then they would surely corner her about it. Would it betray her cause? Surely it would. Besides, she still did not entirely trust him, or - as it were - she did not trust the nature of the wolf inside of him. What if it escaped? What if it bit her? That was something that she would not be able to deal with.

A small sigh escaped her throat and she glanced around the room with tired eyes, she watched the window she had broken and let a half smile play momentarily upon her lips. It was strange how earlier they'd injured each other (or rather, he'd injured her mainly) and now she was comforting him from the death of his friend. It was astounding the turn a day could have, she would never have expected it to turn out like this. She would have expected to be dinner perhaps, but not this.

Nes yawned, finding herself drifting off to sleep in the midst of her thinking. She had forgotten her own tiredness. Her eyelids drifted downwards, finally relenting, Nes leaned her head slightly on top of Morrison. She figured it wouldn't matter so much, since he was already leaning on her. It seemed to be only minutes before she went to sleep.