Teresa's Apartment

[Teresa]

Like always the waking from the nightmare was shapeless and foggy, there was no starting awake, no gasp and jerk as her body wrenched itself out of sleep, there was only a groggy feeling and the taste of bile at her back of her throat. For a moment Teresa just stared at the wall opposite her bed, blinking slowly. She was lying on her front, one arm draped over the edge of the mattress that was low enough to allow her knuckles to brush the floor, and one leg poking out from under the thin white sheet. Unconsciousness receded slowly and she frowned, trying to remember why everything felt a bit out of whack. With a frown she realised there was an arm around her waist and she suddenly remembered the bar and the guy...Jack, no, Jake that was it.

Damnit.

Without warning she gagged and the hand on the floor shot up to cover her mouth. The brunette sprang up, some part of her brain thankfully realised she was naked and grabbed the sheet as she staggered hurriedly towards her bathroom. She tossed herself down on the floor in front of the toilet and threw up into the bowl, one hand gripping the sheet around herself and the other scooping her hair away from her face. After a moment, her stomach emptied quickly, she sat back and sighed heavily. The waking up from the nightmares might have always been blurred and unremarkable but the content never left her. Never.

"Babe? You okay?" The voice came form the doorway and Tess turned her head to look, eyes falling upon the latest in a string of really, really bad mistakes. He was some jock type, all muscle and no brains. Not that all jocks were like that, just the ones Teresa seemed to find in bars. He rubbed his eyes and adjusted his boxers around his hips, snapping the elastic and making her twitch.

"I'm fine." She said, pulling her self up and flushing the toilet as she went. Her brown eyes glanced at the clock on the wall and suddenly she realised that he wasn't the reason the morning felt disjointed, and it wasn't the nightmare; she was late for work. Really late.

"Shit." She cursed, "You have to go."

He looked at her and blinked a few times, "What?"

"Now, you have to go now. I'm late for work." Tess moved past him, gathering the sheet up around her as she went so as not to trip on it. She padded around her bedroom, grabbed some clothes and returned to the bathroom. She turned in the doorway and he was standing looking at her like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Last night..."

"Last night was last night." She cut him off bluntly, "I have to go to work. So go tell your friends you scored a one night stand with no strings" she started to close the door but paused, "and don't call me babe."

Tess closed the door and rested her head against it for a moment before she heard him starting to move around and with a sigh she started to get dressed, really hoping she didn't have to make herself any clearer after she was done. Usually they seemed to clue in pretty fast, she wasn't looking for anything serious, but somehow she must have missed the fact that Jake was unusually dumb; pretty but dumb, not her favourite combination.

[Teresa]

As a rule she never brought men back to her apartment. Okay so that was a lie, she always brought men back to her apartment, the rule had disintegrated about a month after she'd moved to LA. For most women it was a wise idea, if the guy your were dating turned out to be a total asshole, as all men did in Tess' experience, then you always had somewhere safe to go back to. Of course she could break a fully grown man's nose at twelve years old, so she really she didn't have anything to worry about if they decided to get violent. Woe betide the man who tried to lay a finger on her, she'd just break it off.

Tess pulled her loose brown corduroy pants up to her hips. She fastened a leather belt with a big metal buckle through the loops and then pulled a t-shirt with "QUEEN" in big blue letters across the front over her head. She scrubbed her hands through her hair, regretting it as the dull headache flared up in protest. She didn't look too dead, some coffee when she got to the diner, maybe a slice of toast and she'd feel better.

With a steady hand she swung open the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a pill bottle. Tess shook two of the little white painkillers onto her palm and then crunched them down, ignoring the bitter taste even as she shuddered against it. She scooped up her toothbrush, wetted it and pasted it and then wetted it again before she made her way back out of the bathroom.

He was gone.

Just as well, she wasn't feeling up to the big 'it's not you it's me' thing, not that she ever was as a matter of fact. She grabbed a cerulean blue jacket and dumped it in a chair, she tossed her keys onto it, her wallet and a brown leather satchel, then shoved her feet into a pair of black converse before shuffling back to the bathroom and dumping her toothbrush again. She ran her fingers through her hair and gave a sigh. It wasn't so bad; she could live with a few knots in it.

A few minutes later and she was on her way down stairs again with her jacket on, satchel over one shoulder and her shades resting on the bridge of her nose. She'd ride her bike to work, it was down in the cycle lock up, it was way faster than taking a cab or any other mode of transports for that matter; at least the way she rode it was.

Continued at: Lorraine's

[Teresa]

CONTINUED FROM: Back Alleys with Ian.

It was not a most comfortable ride back to her apartment but thankfully Teresa was partially out of it anyway; she leant her head against Ian's back as he drove and focused on her breathing, the long, steady pull in, the catch and bite of her ribs, the wince and the shuddered expelling of air. Ouch. Bruised or cracked, or broken in the worst case, she knew the vampires had royally screwed her up, chewed her up and spit her out and that hurt as much as anything. When they got to the apartment complex and he helped her off the bike she wobbled and clenched her teeth so hard her jaw creaked, her fingers working their way into fists as he aided her movement. At the door she posited breaking in but in the end he worked the key out of her jacket pocket and let them in. It wasn't a bad apartment really; open plan, a messy bed directly opposite the door, kitchen on the rights, bathroom on the left and a small living space, it was a transitory apartment, a temporary place that had become the closest thing to a home she'd had since the mansion Leyland had raised her in. This was nicer than any fucking mansion in her opinion.

"Okay," she said, wiping sticky sweat from her brow and finding it mixed with blood, "that's great, I'm good from here." It was embarrassing enough that he had come to pick her up, literally when it came to putting her on the bike, she didn't want to show off all her nicks and scars while she cleaned herself up (and worked her way through half a bottle of Jack, thank you very much). If she could just find oblivion for a few hours the whole thing would a lot easier to digest.

[Deleted]

His usual sarcastic, smirking demeanor was decidedly subdued. Tess didn't much care for his off-color jokes on the best of days and Ian much preferred his head where it was, thank you. It was self-preservation that kept him quiet. Not like he was actually worried, or anything.

Ian Davies didn't do worried. He wasn't her keeper, sure as hell wasn't her den mother; Tess was home and relatively safe, so there was no need for him to be standing here, lingering in the doorway like the most awkward of turtles. Turn around, walk out. Simple.

Skid didn't move. "You realize there's a good chance you might pass out and bash your own skull out on a counter somewhere, right?"

Oh yeah. No way he was any kind of concerned.

[Teresa]

It was probably just as well he had a sense of self preservation; Tess was fairly certain she could pull a gun and shoot him if she got really ticked off, even if she would only get one bullet. That was fairly optimistic as thoughts went, however, with her head swimming and her fingers doing a funny kind of... tingly thing.

In all honesty, not something she practised with any regularity, the young hunter was not all that sure she wanted to be alone anyway. Well, she did because that was all she really knew how to do, to be alone and to look after herself, but she felt like shit and she ached all over and she was sort of tired of dragging herself around and watching her back and patching herself up. Not that she was going to say that. Tess had too much pride to admit that she ever needed help.

"Least I'd be unconscious," she stated in return, reaching a hand for the wall with the intent to guide herself to her kitchen where she kept her first aid pack in a cupboard by the sink. She caught herself at the corner of the wall to cough against her sleeve. Ouch. Fucking ouch. "Right about now, I'd take unconscious over coughing up bone fragments. Fucking leeches, I swear to--" she coughed again, interrupting her delirious muttering. "I'm fine, Davies. I've taken worse beatings, I'll be--" another cough, and some colourful language, "--fine."

[Deleted]

Ian chewed at his tongue. Rogue or no he was still a wolf, and his feral nature was telling him to stay. He held no claim over the young human, he knew better than to even try that, but Tess was still part of his 'pack'. Snark and occasional threats of bodily harm aside, Ian couldn't fight his instincts, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He just hoped Tess wouldn't shoot him for it. "Right. Because a death rattle like that is totally healthy."

Defeated, he gave a quiet sigh and shut the front door behind him. As he moved to block her path, coming to stand between Tess and her kitchen, Ian silently hoped that she was too delirious to take a swing. She would either hurt herself further in the attempt or she would actually land a punch, and that would suck, because Tess wasn't known for pulling her punches.

"Will you go sit down?" And then, in the hopes of not getting pummeled, "Please?"

[Teresa]

If a human could ever give a snarl to rival a wolf it was that moment when Teresa glared at him blocking her path, her eyes narrow, her lips peeled back over her teeth. Still, she was pretty fucked up right then and she knew it. Logically she knew she ought to just call it quits, to sit down and let Davies do... whatever he was waiting around to do, she suspected help her in some way that she would find utterly humiliating and degrading. Tess operated under the notion that she didn't need anyone else, she did not require help from anyone because this was her fight, these were her problems, this was her useless little life and if she wanted to fuck it up and throw it away then who the hell was anyone else to tell her no? It just was not in her nature to let people help. People helped because they wanted something. They helped because they felt obliged to. They never helped because they cared.

Right then she was overwhelmed with how much she wanted him to be wanting to help her because he actually gave a shit about her and not because he could call in a favour later. As immediately as the feeling came it went again, it was crushed and she hated herself for her weakness.

"No," she wheezed, reaching out with both hands to shove him in the chest. It was a weak attempt at best but she put all her weight and any energy she had left behind it which was still considerably more than most humans could muster in such a state. "I can do it on my own! I don't need anyone's help," she shouted bitterly, her voice cracking. It was such a lie, such a horrible twist of denial. Tess tasted bile on her tongue.

[Deleted]

The force behind her push was enough to rock Ian back and away from her. Hazel eyes widened with shock. He knew Tess was the type to lash out when she was injured, but he'd never been on the receiving end of that anger. If it had been anyone else, he might have shoved back or even swung the flat of his palm upside her head. His wolf rumbled, clearly displeased, but it had nothing to do with the human's show of violence toward him.

Tess was in pain, and not just from her physical injuries. The wolf didn't like to see it, not one bit. Ian could feel the creature stirring, pacing in its irritation and anxiety. He gave a low growl, eyes flickering to their feral color for a split-second.

"Hey - hey!" Powerful, calloused hands caught Tess' wrists; he didn't have to exert much pressure to keep her still. "Cut it out," Ian rumbled. "Goddamn, girl, you could have a concussion at the very least, and you want me to leave you to take care of it on your own? Tess, you're hurt. For fuck's sake, I'm not tryin' to con you - I want to help."

[Teresa]

For several moments after he spoke she watched him warily, not trusting his motivations, not knowing what to think. In her experience people either wanted to screw her over or just out and out kill her. Of course she hardly helped the latter, she made enemies easily, she hated most people she came across, supernatural or otherwise, because they had their lives together or for god knew whatever else. People wanted her dead because she was antagonistic, because she pushed people and she liked to feel that friction, because she got all up in people's business. People did not, generally, want to help her.

Maintaining her resistance finally became too much for her, though. Teresa weakened slightly under his strong grasp, her knees felt weird. "I don't feel good," she rasped, nausea coming on her like a wave rushing a beach, making her feel dizzy and sick.

[Deleted]

From his end, Ian could see some of the fight drain from Tess before he realized that her face had gone from pale to an unsightly shade of green. "Shit," he growled. "Just don't hurl on me, okay?"

He was careful, making sure not to grip to tight or jostle her wrong as he helped Tess carry her weight, but Ian wanted to get her to the bathroom before she lost whatever food was in her belly. Rotten as Tess probably felt, he figured that puking all down her front wouldn't do much to help.

Ian hit the bathroom light, bathing tile and chrome in a fluorescent glow. Only once he was sure that the injured human wouldn't keel over did he release her, letting himself stop to lean against the sink. He wanted to help, yes, but he didn't want to overstep his boundaries; if Tess though he was babying her, she'd kick his ass.

[Teresa]

Good timing. No sooner was she at the bathroom sink than Tess was hacking her lungs up over the sink and heaving her guts. She fumbled for the faucet and ran cold water. It sprayed loudly but not enough to cover the sounds of her body trying to turn itself inside out each time she coughed and certainly not loudly enough to mask the sounds from a damn werewolf. Tears of exertion blurred her eyes and she wiped them away angrily with a cold wet hand, splashing water over her cheeks to wash them away and to cool herself off; she felt like she was on fire all of a sudden.

When the worst of it was over she half crumpled over to sink unit, bracing her hands against the tile. Wow, she was really screwed up. Concussion, definitely. Internal injuries more than likely. Nothing that wouldn't heal but she was going to have to do some interesting patching up come morning. It took her a minute or so to remember that Ian was actually there after her mind had taken a little wander.

"Ugh, Jesus," she growled over the basin, pushing a battered hand into her hair at her temple. She raised her dark head enough to look up at him through the black coils of hair. The lights burned her eyes and she squeezed them shut while she talked to him. Or rather rasped defensively in his direction. "If you're just gonna fucking-- stand around and watch me throw up you can go. I don't need witnesses for this. I don't need a nurse maid either." Nausea again, hard, fast and brutal. Teresa's head swam and she lowered it close to the basin again. Her voice lowered and the edge dropped off slightly; she almost sounded human when she spoke again. "I can take care of myself. You don't have to feel guilty about leaving. I'm okay."

Yeah, she was going to hurl again any second.

[Deleted]

"Well, I'm not a goddamn nurse maid, so at least we have that out of the way," Ian shot back. The reek of vomit burned his nose, but he didn't make a face or turn away. He'd smelt worse. "A guilty conscience would imply that I still have a soul, and we know I sold that damn thing back in the seventies. This is me building karma points."

He crossed behind her, reaching around the shaky female to grab a washcloth from the towel rod. Quickly, before Tess could barf on his hand, he ran the cloth under the cool water and wrung it over the sink to keep it from dripping. Keeping his eyes on the woman in the mirror, he folded the fabric square longways.

"I'm gonna touch the back of your neck," he warned before doing just that. One hand brushed her hair aside, held it back and away; the other placed the cool, damp cloth on her nape. "You know how many people I've pissed off since, well, the beginning of time? Little extra karma might keep me from getting my ass kicked tomorrow. Besides, if you keel over on the floor somewhere, there's a good chance you could Hendrix yourself and don't you tell me that's how you want to up and croak."

[Teresa]

It was a lot easier to accept help with the idea of karma attached to it. Tess didn't actually believe in karma, she had a staunchly scientific view of the world, weird for a hunter maybe but bad shit happened and they were all just little specs on the face of a ball of rock hanging in space. When you saw yourself as that small it was much easier to cope with the shit you had to do day in and day out to survive. It helped her sleep and that was saying something considering how little she usually managed.

The cold towel on the back of her neck helped. A lot. Teresa sighed over the sink, her eyes closing. She crossed her hands over the faucet and leant her forehead on them for a moment, listening to Davies' talk about karma and getting his ass kicked and Jimi Hendrix. "Man, Hendrix is the shit-- love his music," she sighed, rocking her head to the side, a weird thought, a stray bird flying out of the cage of her head. She slipped a wet hand out from under her head, her fingers chilled by the water from the basin. She slapped it clumsily on top of his on the back of her neck. She didn't want the towel to move, it was helping the world to stop spinning around so violently. She was startig to feel calmer. Maybe that wasn't such a great sign or maybe she was finally dulling down enough that her razor edges wouldn't keep her from actually getting the help she needed to live through the night. She didn't want to die. She really didn't want to die, but she was too proud to say even that.

"I'm really fucked up," she said finally. Obvious. Stupid. Blunt.

[Deleted]

Tess' icy fingers were pale and so very slender-looking, slapped over his own ungainly mitts like that. The observation almost made him frown -- instead, Ian looked up into the mirror to try and catch her gaze in the mirror. He could just barely make out the shine of her eyes through the thick fall of her hair.

He couldn't quantify Teresa Reign. She sure as hell didn't fit into his equation like the other women in his life -- women like Fiona and Isabel -- not in any kind of simple fashion. She was an anomaly. It didn't make any sense that he needed to look out for her. It was downright stupid of him to take the verbal ass-kickings she handed out more often that not, but here he was. Ready to clean up blood and vomit without batting an eyelash.

And people called him a heartless S.O.B.

"You and half the population of this fucking city," he rumbled after a beat. "I need you to sit, Reign. Think you can move as far as the john?"

[Teresa]

Tess could only nod vaguely. Every breath of air dragged through her lungs like they were full of shattered glass and she remembered with a new and searing clarity as she pushed the weight of her torso up off the sink unit the last time she'd broken her ribs and how much pain she'd been in for weeks after the fact. likely she wouldn't be able to hunt again for a while. So fucking stupid of her. So fucking careless. Olsen was out there somewhere and he might even leave the city before she could work him over. Maybe she could get Elena to track him. Maybe. Maybe she didn't like owing favours. This time her pride might have to take a hit, though, she needed to find him, needed it more than sleep, more than air, more than anything. Tess needed the revenge, she didn't bother to call it closure because it wasn't, she knew it wouldn't make her feel better, nothing made her feel better, but it would be what was coming to him, it would be his just reward for the things he'd done to her.

That thought alone got her moving. Revenge and rage powered her, could move her to incredible feats if they had to. Memories of torturous hours of training flooded her mind, she recalled hanging by her fingertips over a three story drop while her uncle timed her, watching her, expecting her to hold her tiny twelve year old frame up with just the strength of her arms. Tess hated him. Hated every rapped knuckle she got for talking back or not doing her work satisfactorily. Hated every incentive they'd offered, every punishment, everything they had made her.

Using the wall she got away from the sink and slid onto the closed lid of the toilet, a battered arm around her middle. "Ow," she moaned thickly, screwing her eyes closed. "God fucking damnit."