Thorn hadn't moved since Raven, if that had even been his name, had finally left her. Or, let me correct that, she'd only moved enough to pull her ruined leather pants up over her hips again, even though the leather strip that laced up the sides had been cut. She lay on her back, her butt on the curb of the sidewalk, her legs propped up slightly. Her back, shoulders, and head, however were slopped over the curb and resting on the street beneath her truck.

Thorn had curled on arm over her bare chest, the other over her flat belly until her hand was against her side, a dark spot had spread over her side, fingers, and the street beside her. She was thin, shapely, pretty. Her black hair had been up in a messy bun, artfully messy. Now it was just a mess on top of her head. Her pale gray eyes stared emptily at the underside of her truck. Somewhere on the sidewalk was a shred of cloth that had once been her shirt, her pants basically just lay over her since the lace from knee to hip had been cut. Her thigh had a (at first) half concealed tattoo of a thorny red rose, now it was exposed fully.

Her eyes were blood shot from tears. She turned her head to the side and stared at one of the larger then average tires. Soft, husky sounds came from between bloody lips, a cut on her lip from her biting it, his biting it. A cut across her throat, not quite a slash but close, and a deep cut in a 'Y' over her bare breast and down the center of her torso. It had all bled into a dark stain, all of it had since clotted and ceased bleeding accept for the wound in her side.

"What......you are......above the sky so high......" The words were hoarse, tired, she sounded almost delerious, it was a sing song tone. It didn't even come close to resembling the tune of 'twinkle twinkle little star' though that's obviously what she's getting at. She sniffed once, tasted snot and blood in the back of her throat. "fucking star."

Gunn was limping along. His leg was killing him. At least he had hustled some money at the pool hall. He was walking and thinking he needed to come up with a better tactic for trying to track down "Katie" (Viv for everyone's sanity), when he smelled blood and phermones. He started looking around, Sex crazed teenagers making out in a vehicle near him? He didn't know.

Then he heard a burbling and hoarse voice coming from the darker stretch of street just ahead of him. He quickened his steps even though his bad leg was simply throbbing.....more ghost limb bullshit, the part that hurt wasn't even there anymore.


He nearly tripped on the girl, well really he had no idea how old she was. She was half naked, laying where she had clearly been discarded after someone had finished amusing themself with her. Sick world, full of sick fuckers. He took off his black army trenchcoat and knelt down next to her. Her eyes were opened but seemed unfocused. Definitely in shock. he told himself. He moved her as little as possible but put the coat over and around her, it was important to keep her warm. "Hey, can you hear me?" he asked her while he put the coat over her. He was trying to determine if she was coherant.

She was coherant alright. And very unhappy. Actually, unhappy may be an understatment. While she'd been angry and unhappy before she was simply bitter and livid now. She felt the jacket touch her skin and jerked. That hurt. That hurt a lot. Not the jacket but the jerking. Every small little twitch of muscle made her ache.

Hey, can you hear me?

"Go on. Have ...fucking piece of it too if you want."

What? Remember, not incoherant, just very bitter. After all, her childhood had been full enough with this sort of treatment. She turned her head towards him, too fast and it made her whince. Staring at him, her gray eyes were bloodshot, angry, tired, and so very frightened beneath the sharad of bravery and bitterness. She just wanted to lay here. Alone. But not die. She'd worked to hard not to die tonight.

"No thanks." he said quietly. "Don't move so much, you're hurt really bad. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself more." he was talking very quietly to her. He didn't want to freak her out, but if he didn't do something for her she wasn't likely to survive real long on the street like this.

Frustrated he swore, "Shit." he was thinking he didn't even have a car so he could take her to the hospital, or even a cell-phone to call for help. "Look I can't just leave you here, I don't know how the hell I'll move you without hurting you. I can't carry you very far and I don't have a car. Is there someplace near here I can take you?" he asked her. His voice trembled a little.

He ws pissed off, why hadn't anyone helped her? Where was the sick fuck that did this? For a moment all he could think about was his sister alone in this city.....Then he thought about it, he hoped whoever did this to this girl found his sister, she'd probably give the bastard an anal probe with her cordless drill. He'd seen some of his sister's handy work. He let go of that thought, he'd find her later and help her.

"Just let me help you, this isn't a good place for you to be, obviously." he said.

no thanks.

That shocked her and she shifted again with suprise. She hadn't realized how serious she'd really been when she'd said that until he said no thanks. She'd been serious. She closed her eyes as her face shifted from distracted to crumbling. She was biting back the tears that she'd been fighting away all night.

Thorn opened her eyes when he swore, swore after him using the same word, because it seemed appropriate. She didn't even know why he swore when she repeated it. I can't just leave you here. Her hand came off her side, tangled in his jacket, untanlged, grabbed at his sleeve. All of this made her hurt, but it didn't matter. Sad that she would uncover a wound and let it hurt more before baring her chest again. Her fingers were bloody.

"Don't leave." He's a strange, could do this to her again like Raven. Why not let him leave? Because she was scared to be alone now when moments before she was scared to have company. Anywhere nearby? Her eyes shifted upward to the underside of the truck, then to the passenger door hanging half open. The keys? She'd dropped them somewhere. "Home." Not near by but somewhere safe. No hospital for this girl.

"Where is home and how can I get you there?" he asked her as he followed her eyes. "Is that your truck?" he asks stupidly. Though if it is he is shocked whoever did this to her left it here. She nods at him. He stands to go look and make sure no one is hiding in it. As he walks to it he kicks a set of keys with the prosthetic foot. He picks them up and checks the truck. Satisfied when he finds it empty he goes back to the girl.

"I'm gonna pick you up. It's gonna hurt and I'm sorry." his words are slow and measured to be soothing, his southern accent lends them a funny twang. "I need your help to get you up though, I got a bad leg. Can you put your arms around my neck?" he asks her, crouching again.

He's shocked as people walk by ignoring them. It's all he can do not to yell at them, though at the same time it's a relief no one notices. No way he wants to be blamed for this.

Probably because who did this didn't even know how to drive. Who did this was shorter and less strong then she. How had he out powered her? Magic. But Thorn doesn't know this tid bit of information. As far as the people walking by, Thorn's noticed them about as much as they've noticed her. She's used to it. Only a few weeks ago she'd hyperventilated and nearly passed out and only one kid, who didn't even know what to do, stopped to help her.

Pick her up? She could handle that. She's sure she can handle that if he means to take her home, take her somewhere safe. She named an address. Bad end of town but not a terrible district, just not pretty.

Thorn had returned her hand over the wound, clutching his jacket over her chest, she raised an arm and fell back immediatly. It hurt so bad. She tried the other arm, it burst pain through her sides as well but far less then stretching out the knife wound had.

Could he drive the truck? It's not a normal car after all, with its big tires and lift kit. Too big of a truck for a small body like hers, which is probably why she got it. "mm truck. Fuck." What? Nothing, she just wanted to swear again. She ached. Everywhere. "I want to sleep." So much blood loss makes you dizzy and tired.

He isn't at all worried about driving that truck, he's driven deuce and a half ton trucks for the army.

Seeing she can't get her arms around him he crouches lower to improvise getting her in a fireman's carry. He's almost sure it hurts him almost as much as her as he brings her additional weight to bear on the bad leg.

He manages to get her in the truck. He makes her as comfortable as he can. He does the only merciful thing he can think to do next. He recites a spell to make her sleep. Then he carefully buckles her in and shuts her door before walking around to the driver's side and climbing in. He only has a vague idea where the address is she gave him though.

He falls back on how he always learns where things are in a new city. He finds a payphone to pull up next to and uses it to call a taxi company. The dispatcher gives him directions and then he gets back into the truck.

After a short drive he finds the place. "Wake up, we're here." he says softly releasing the spell as he speaks. He climbs out and locks the driver's side before walking around. He's thankful it will be easier to pick her up from up in the truck cab than it was to get her off the ground.

"Does anyone else live here with you?" he asks as he unbuckles the seatbelt gingerly.

Luckily for him she couldn't weigh beyond one hundred and twenty rather then be taller and heavier. She's rather petit. And had she known that he'd been the one that helped her sleep, and not just her own restlessness and pain leaving long enough to drift off, she'd thank him mercifully.

She watched him lock her driver side door and was thankful for that. He came around the truck as she was unbuckling and turning to get out. She knew she could walk, she just knew it. But while her legs were fine, she felt dizzy and wisely decided not to move, let him take care of it.

"..."

Her hands still clutched the coat around her, hiding under it. Tears formed in her eyes again. She'd just suddenly remembered Raven telling her to give him a reason to let her live. She'd had none. And the empty apartment prooved that much.

"No."

He locked the passeger door and scooped her up. She wasn't very heavy now that he could distribute her weight more evenly. It had been especially hard to shift both her weight and his own off the ground back there though, all that weight onto one leg. This was easier though less leverage was required to get her out of the truck. For which he was thaknful. He was able to be much gentler this time with her.

"Which key?" he asked as he carried her towards the door. She told him and he got it ready. "Is there someone I should call to come stay with you? Or do you want me to take you to a doctor? You shouldn't be alone like this." He was talking very quietly to her in an almost crooning voice, barely above a whisper. There was no need to talk louder while he carried her.

She'd pointed out the key while frowning. Where had he found her keys? She didn't remember giving them to him, of course, she remembered dropping them now. Someone to say with her? Tch.

"No doctors. They wouldn't....." nevermind. See, the thing about Thorn is, Thorn isn't her real name. In fact, if someone were to look her up they'd find that Thorn had never actually existed before two years ago. You shouldn't be alone like this. She closed her eyes and groaned. Just keep reminding her. He doesn't mean to, he doesn't know, but it doesn't lessen the pain any. "I am alone."

Translation: My family hates me and I'm not to fond of them. And my only friend is a kid with his own issues (who I'm not even sure i'd call a friend yet). What a lonely life we live.

Her apartment was darkly lit, the kitchen faced the linging room, seperated by a low bar, the tile crumbling. For the most part, she'd made the old nasty place look good. There was a sofa coffee table and TV in the middle of the room, piles of pillows in each corner. Her sanctuary. Her bedroom door was firmly closed.

No doctors she'd said, which he'd somehow expected. Softly he replied when she said she was alone, "That sucks." He shut the door and locked it behind them after he carried her in.

"Where the heck is your bathroom, If you won't go to a doctor and there's no one to look after you, I should check you out and see just how fucked up you are." he still croons to her quietly. He has enough training to be a combat medic, better than nothing he supposes.

He pays very little attention to the shape of her apartment, for all his kindness he's a drunk and a junkie, he's seen far worse. It's condition doesn't really phaze him.

Her voice hoarse and ragged she says: "Check me out? Does....that mean my...?"

Does that include touching her? She squirmed and even that made her hurt, but she continued to do so until she'd squirmed her legs out of his arms and her feet were on the ground. Then she fell. She reached out with both hands, dropping the coat to grab onto his arm and the wall. Why shoud her legs feel weak? It's her upper body that's hurt so bad, and between her legs ach, but not her legs. And now she realizes she's standing there nearly nude for all the good her torn pants do.

She let go of him and the wall to cover her chest with one hand and pull the front of the pants over her hips again with the other, suceeding only in toppling over onto the floor. All of this movment, not to mention the impact to the floor, made her cry out in pain.

Then she started to cry, really cry, like she hadn't let herself cry when Raven was there, or when she was on the street. She did have sense enough to point to a closed door beside the bedrooms closed door. The bathroom. Then she curled under the jacket again, hiding.

Gunn is not prepared to have the good touch bad touch conversation at this time. He does wish she hadn't gotten down it will be harder to get her up again. He helps her up and then carries her again, wincing as he does. The hinged metal joint in his leg makes a strange creak as he rises with her.

"You've lost a lot of blood, you're in shock, I dunno for sure what else. Don't try to walk again, your legs are too weak right now." He somehow manages to keep the coat around her and get her into the bathroom.

He sets her on the toilet, there really isn't anyplace else. "I know you really would rather keep your body private right now, but I can't help you if you don't let me look, and that would force me to call an ambulance." he says very seriously, though he is bluffing.

Seeing what a mess she is by the bathroom light, he realises if he can ever get her straightened away, he's gonna need to deal with the blood in her truck. This is before he even tries to get her out from under the coat.

He fills the sink with warm water and looks for towels and cloths to clean her up with.

"No." No as in no you can't look and no you won't call an ambulance. It's probably the strongest word she's been able to say all evening. For having such a nice body she'd always been rather self-concious. And well, you put a girl like her in a situation like hers in a little bathroom with an imposing man alone then she's bound to feel just a little overwhelmed. After all, she didn't know his name, just met him, and can't defend herself from a kitten right now.

She pulled the jacket away from her body just slightly and peered under. And whinced. She hurt, but she looked worse then she hurt. Thorn bit her lower lip out of habbit and split open the cut that she'd formed their earlier. Tasted blood, imagined she could taste his mouth on hers and suddenly felt ill.

"....." She peeled the jacket awaym, every movment of her arms causeing her body, mostly the stab wound in her side, to sear with fresh pain. Sitting naked and bloody she couldn't bring her gray eyes up to look at him. She pointed to a shelf near the shower, it contained several purple towels, hand towels, and wash rags.

"Bastard." was the only thing he could say when he looked at her. She may have had a very attractive body, but his mind was a million miles away from such thoughts. He was on auto pilot, falling back on his combat medic training that had been drilled into him.

He cleaned her up and then took the time to look over the stab wound in her side. He mumbled a few words softly enough that she wouldn't understand and probed the stab wound with magic. He had no other way to be sure there was no internal damage. Satisfied there was not, he started cleaning the wound. It was too soon to stitch it up. He needed it to drain so he didn't sew in any infection. "You got any gauze? medical stuff?" he asked.

He went about cleaning the "y" shaped cut on her torso, she jerked and squirmed a lot. He didn't blame her, he was sure it hurt, and sure a man had done it to her.
He was grinding his teeth as he doctored her. He hadn't been this mad since he found out what Mac had done to "Katie", even if all of it had been mental.

Squirm isn't the word I would use. Thorn jerked around under his hands feeling pain, feeling hurt, feeling the need to squrim away and stay put, to curl up and die, feeling exposed and prodded and touched. One guy beating on her, raping her reguarily she would deal with, but a kid doing it and dicing her, then a stranger probing her wounds that same night, she couldn't handle.

She had stopped crying the moment his hands touched her, closed her eyes, became utterly detatched other then the jerking and squirming. A few whimpers slipped her lip. She continued to bite the bleeding lip to keep from screaming.

"Medical...." She shook her head, leaned over whincing and pulled open the door under the cabnit. "Just that." Cotton swabs, one ankle brace, a pair of very old, misplaced boxing gloves, a bottle of alcohol, and a bottle of fingernail polish remover. Time to think about something else.

"What....happened to your leg?" Yes, focus on something else. Shit. "I'm sorry." Ignore me. I'm being stupid. She squirmed, touched the jacket, ready to hide her body the moment he let her.

"S'alright. Almost done, I know you wish I wasn't doing this, but it's not like we can leave you like you were." he croons. He looks through the cabinet for something to use as a dressing, but has no luck.

He talks while he rummages."I was a paratrooper, Airborne. Jumped out of planes and all that. The chute malfuntioned, didn't open till I was already into the trees, took my leg clean off. My buddies couldn't get me out quick enough to save it." he says.

"Blar!" he says in frustration screwing his face up when he doesn't even find some medical tape. "How bout masking tape and a tee-shirt you won't miss?" he asks hopefully, so he'll be able to improvise. He blots her lip off seeing it bleeding again and wraps her up in some towels.

She hugged the towel around her tightly, as though it was her last hope at keeping her dignaty. Tape? A shirt?

"I'm sorry," she replied. She's starting to sound better, though her voice is still hoarse and rough. "I didn't mean..." No. She'd meant to ask.

"Duct tape?" She made a small motion with her hand out the bathroom door to the next closed door. The bedroom. "Any shirt. Uh.....tape...." she licked her lip after he wiped it. "In the desk drawer."

It's also dark, the floors wooden, though everything in the room was dark wood and black and purple. It was like walking into a very old room, say Restoration period of time? It's clean, looks better then the rest of the apartment. She took a lot of pride in that room, working on it. It shows.

When he comes back, she's sittingcurled up, her legs pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, the towel fastened securly around her. This position hurts, but she feels safe.

He comes back without the duct tape, it'll stick too much and do more harm than good since she isn't bleeding profusely. Instead he tears up the tee shirt, a plain white one, making a pad of part of it and then some long strips. He manages to reach up under the towel and press the pad of fabric against the wound on her side, after he's soaked some alcohol into it. Again with the jerking. "I'm sorry, I really am. I need to tie this in place now, gonna have to move the towel some." he says. He exposes her as little as possible and uses the strips of fabric to tie the pad of cloth in place over the wound.

In the morning he'll have to get her some better supplies. He scoops her up again, and sets her in the tub. he turns the water on leaving the towel on her. "Let me know if it's too hot." he says adjusting the water. He gets it to a warm temperature and she hasn't complained so he stoppers the tub so it will fill. "I'm gonna leave you in here so you can clean up...he coughs...without me. Don't get any water on that dressing and holler when you want outta the tub." he tells her and steps out of the room and shuts the door. He stays right outside in case she needs something.

She watched him when she was put in the tub, in fact, her eyes didn't leave him the entire time the tub was filling. Those intense gray eyes held all that pain, clung to anger, and..wonder and maybe fear. Wonder that he was helping her like this, fear because well, it's hard not to be afraid. And he closes the door.

She shrugs off the soaking towel and stuggles for a few moments, nearly slipping to low in the water, splashing around and fighting with her own body. She finally managed to fight through the pain and reach over her head to pull down her hair and reach soap.

Finally, with her body clean and nearly as much water on the floor as in the bath tub she wants out. Wait. Problem. She hasn't got a name to call. Trying to reach up for a towel to hide under she gives up. She bit her lip again, and again it trickled a little blood. She needs to break that habbit.

"Hey..." Not sir, she doesn't want to call him sir or mister. He doesn't look that old. "I...." Yeah....

Gunn stands outside the door listening to the sloshing, splashing, and what seem to be choked of exclamations of pain. He knows he should probably help her with her hair, but he also knows she doesn't really want to be exposed. He leaves her in privacy but listens for anything that might sound like a call or gurgle for help. After a time the wet noises seem to cease and a few minutes later he hears "Hey.... I....Yeah...."

He opens the door."You're done now eh? You got a bathrobe, I can bring you?" he asks looking at the small lake on the bathroom floor. Deal with it later. he tells himself. He waits for her answer but doesn't look at her. She's already over sensitive about evrything, with good reason, he doesn't want to make her any more paranoid.

She actually laughed at that. Either she's feeling a little better or she's starting to crack. Thorn, own a bathrobe? That really was funny. She was one of those who got in the shower, got out, dried, and was immidiatly in a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt.

"No." She managed to reach a dry towel, though dropped it in the puddle on the floor and groaned. "Just...clothes." Her hair she managed to let down from the bun though not wash it. It was as black as his, a mass of thick, healthy curls and waves, then end soaked as it fell past even her waist. She managed another towel and didn't drop this one.

Slowly, very slowly, she stood up and huddled into the towel. Lifting a leg she put it back down and planted a hand to the wall. She hurt enough between the legs to be wise enough not to try that a second time. So she just stood there, ankle deep in the water.

"What's your name?"

"Okay, lemme help you, before you break your neck." He said carefully moving through the puddles on the floor.

"My name is Gattling Gunn, but most people call me Gunn. My dad was a marine, and so I think he thought it was funny to name that." He was saying. He covered most of her with the towel and picked her up again. "Which room you wanna be set down in?" He looked at her this time, he hadn't ment to. He looked into her sad grey eyes, but only for a moment before he looked away.

"Do I get to know your name?" he asked her. He was soaked after picking her up. If it bothered him, he gave no indication.

"Gunn." She repeated and watched him wade through her man-made lake on the floor. "Gattling Gunn." Something she doesn't want to forget. She bit her lip again when he looked at her and dropped her eyes away from his. Still she couldn't meet his eyes, not standing there nearly naked.

"Pi...Sofa." She was going to say pillows, the ones on the floor in the living room but she recalled he had difficulty getting her up and down from the ground. She squirmed even though she knew it would hurt. "I can walk." Maybe. But she felt bad making him carry her. She was definatly coming to her senses.

Again she felt bad that his clothes were getting wet carrying her around. She stared at his shirt rather then his eyes. "Thorn Van Heltin." Rose Webb. But he didn't need to know that if no one else did. Right? So why did she feel bad for lieing this time when she'd never before. Oh yeah, because maybe she owed him a lot for tonight?

"You can walk later." he tells her and he takes her out to the couch. He sets her down as carefully as he can and goes to get her some blankets. He's pretty sure she's not as shockey now. As he set her down he got another good look at her, he'd been trying to avoid it, made him feel like a voyeur. She had a pretty face.

Her hair was pretty tangled looking and long, it would only tangle more while her arms hurt like they did. He frowned at her bleeding lip. He went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush and one of the washcloths.

"I'll go soon, I know you don't want some stranger around your house while you're like this." he told her crouching down to blot her lip again. There were bitemarks that couldn't possibly be hers on her lip, they came from the wrong direction. He helped her lean forward and then brushed her hair without saying anything else. He was very gentle with her hair, slowly picking out the larger tangles with his hands delicately, so he wouldn't inadvertantly pull it.

She watched him, her gray eyes following him through the house. It wasn't as though she didn't trust him with her belongings, after all, she'd trusted him enough to let him take care of her. She was simply watching. And watching kept her anger at bay because she could feel it bubbling in her stomach...or was that more pain she was trying to ignor.

Again she licked her lip when he wiped it. Again she remembered his mouth on hers and she closed her eyes, pushing the thought away. Now covered better with a towel and a blanket, she finally turned her eyes up to his face, to meet his eyes. Her gaze wavered a little, then returned. After all, he'd seen her naked, whether she was covered now or not.

He brushed her hair. She'd never imagined that it could be soothing, having your hair brushed, even in all this pain.

"I....Leave your jacket. I'll have it cleaned." It's her blood all over it after all. She was definatly coming to herself again. She was mentally making a list of what had to be taken care of. She had to mop up the bathroom floor, clean bloody towels, clean out the truck probably, clean his jacket. "I'm sorry." That your jacket got bloody?

He listened to her while murmuring quietly the words to make her sleep.

She was sleeping deeply. She shouldn't dream with that particular spell. He set about cleaning up the bathroom. Then the truck. He was pretty well dry by the time he was done. He came back inside and found a laundry basket for all the laundry.

He called the cab place and found out there was a drugstore two blocks away. Then he asked the dispatcher if they had any openings for drivers and chatted her up for a while. He thanked her and got off the phone.

He hated to do it but he took Thorn's keys so he could lock her in the house. She wouldn't wake up until he roused her, but he hadn't asked her, so he felt bad.

It took him about an hour and a half to get what he needed from the drugstore and walk back.

He forwent waking her up to change the dressing. Easier for both of them if he didn't. He only moved the blanket from her side and used scissors to cut away the strips of cloth he'd tied the dressing on with. It came away easily once he did. He sterilized the wound again and then put oinment on it before pressing a nonstick dressing there and taping it on with medical tape. She shifted and sighed loudly while he did but that was all. Then he put ointment and a series of gauze dressings on her chest. He mumured a little more magic over her for her pain and to reduce scarring. Then he wrapped her back up before waking her up.

"Hey,"He almost whispered, "Wake up. Brought you some donuts and orange juice." She'd lost blood, so he'd gotten her things to boost her sugar enough so that she wouldn't be so dizzy later in the day.

"Once you eat, I'm gonna go. I'll lock the door behind me. You want me to check on you later today?" he was saying while she woke up completely.

Her eyes didn't open but she was deffinatly awake. She felt heavy and drifty and she didn't want to open her eyes, didn't want to...hey...wait...who was talking to her? Her eyes flicked open, her hand sliding under her head all at once, her hand searching for her knife that happened to be under the pillow in the bedroom. She started, her entire body stiffened.

God how that hurt. And then she remembered. She stared at him with wide gray eyes, very much awake now. Takeing a deep shakey breath, she let it out and let her eyes drop half closed, pretending to relax.

"Donuts are bad for you." Her voice was a little lighter, less stressed and freer then before. Her vocals loosening finally from holding down her screams. She reached up to rub her eyes and realized that hurt too and stopped. "M'sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep like that."

Come to think of it, she didn't recall drifting off at all. Leaving? Before she'd just wanted him to go away, now she didn't know. But he'd already spent a while playing nurse, a while of his time. She nodded. Yes. Yes you're leaving, acknowlegeing that point, yes, check on me.

"Yes eat first though, and they are bad, but you need a bit of sugar to make up for the blood loss. I couldn't exactly give you a transfusion. I want you to be able to get up and let me in when I come check on you. "He told her. He really had hated to wake her up, but he knew he needed to get her to eat.

He left the donuts where she could reach them and went and rummaged in her kitchen for a glass for the juice. He came back and poured her a glass. He ate one of the donuts himself while he waited for her to eat.

She practically sneered at the donuts on the coffee table, looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow. Definatly back to herself. She slowly put her hands under her and pushed herself into a semi-sitting poistion, pulling the blankets with her. Finally she ate about half a donut but drank all of the juice. Perhapes it was the ingrediants, or maybe that she's never really eaten sweets but the half of donut sat uneasy in her stomach.

Her eyes went to the clock. "I should be running right now." Bastard. How dare he mess up my routine! "Shit." She swore because she felt like it. "Shit." She swore because: "I have to call in. Mr. Blake isn't going to like this." Her groggy voice was slowly loosening more, falling more natural. She realized then how much of a prick she must seem. Stop complaining. You've not even thanked the guy once!

"I...." am still embarassed about having been seen naked by a stranger. "Thank you. For all of it. I mean....you coulda been just like everyone else. That would have been easy."

"People suck." he said.

He deliberately didn't move the donuts and left the jug of juice where she could get it. In a few hours she'd be sore and hungry. He brought the phone where she could reach it and the remote control he thought went to the T.V.

"I'm gonna go, I cleaned your truck up. Ah wait." He smacked himself lightly on the forehead and found a pen and paper. He wrote down a number and some info. "It's the motel I stay at. It's not too far." He left it by the phone. "So if you need to call me, you can." he said. He'd left her keys on the coffee table. He went down the hall and got her some clothes. "You might or might not feel up to geting dressed." he said. then he went to the door.

"I'll be back this afternoon, unless you call me of coarse. No running though you'll bust something opened." he said fearful that she might really try it. Then he opened the door to go.

"Gunn....bye."

Bye because no one ever came back. It's a basic rule, Thorn the people repelant. She watched him leave and first thing she did was pulled on the shorts. She attempted a bra and found she could not fasten it so settled for the tee shirt. Then she called her boss who told her it was her fault anything happened to her and if she wasn't back to work in five days she'd be out of a job. Dick head.

Sometime through out the day she'd finally been able to stand without the world spinning and wandered to the bedroom and looked in the mirror. Lovely. The shorts showed off runner's legs and though she'd actually thought that her legs hadn't been hurt, thrashing around had left bruises everywhere, even over the tattoo on the thigh, coloring the red rose a sickly purple.

Restlessness took over and she'd done laundry, slowly because too much movement hurt her badly, most of the pain was in her side and between her legs still. The rest could be ignored as a dull throb. A stack of freshly folded clothing on the table she set about cleaning the kitchen and living room but gave up.

She ended up in one of the large piles of pillows in a corner with socks up to her knees, her hair an ultimat mess of unbrushed curls, a book and orange juice. Still she'd not eaten another donut.

It should be a good sign that she didn't call through out the day.

Gunn walked back to his motel room and paid for another day there so he wouldn't get woke up at checkout in a few hours. He paid the desk jerk(notice he doesn't say clerk) to give him a wake up call at two pm. Then he crawled into his room took a handfull of pills drank two beers and climbed into the shower. He want to bed without even bothering to get dressed, carrying girls around and doing spells had taken a toll on him. He fell asleep with tangled worries in his head over Thorn and his step-sister.

Of coarse the desk jerk didn't wake him. He came to on his own, comfortably buzzed on all the pills. At least no one had called. He hoped that was good. He got out of the bed and got dressed. Then it took him a while to get his boot on his leg so that it was hard to tell his leg wasn't normal. He didn't like being stared at. He didn't bother shaving once he saw it was four pm. He pulled on his green field jacket and picked up a fistfull of fliers about his step-sister. He'd canvas people while he walked. He locked his room and combed his hair while he walked out of the motel parking lot. It only took him about 30 minutes to get back the apartment.

He knocked on the door hoping he wasn't waking the girl up. He had said he would check on her though.

It took her only a life time to roll off of the pillows and work her way to her feet without hurting herself too much. Through out the day she'd learned how she could move her body with minimal pain and was blissfully relishing in as little pain as possible as she slowly moved towards the door.

"A minute!" She called out unsure if anyone could have heard her low, scratchy but definatly improved voice through the door. She was genuinly suprised that he actually had come back. Who else could be on the other side of the door? No one ever came here.

Finally, she peered through the eye hole and unlocked two of the four locks on the door and pushed it open. Without the blood, with some rest, she looked better, save for the long mess of curls. But the bruises were sickly on her skin. She stared at him rather then smile, then turned so he could come in.

"Such a pleasent suprise." Really, it was. Now she smiled, but she wasn't looking at him by this time. Pretty, it would be even better if she had heart behind it.

He waited reassured by sounds and movement from withiin "Such a pleasent suprise." she said. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Well I said I'd come, I meant to get here sooner but the desk jerk forgot my wake up call." he drawled lazily. His eyes were droopy and a little cloudy from the drugs still and he hadn't shaved. Other than that his hair was neatly combed and he was wearing clean unwrinkled clothes.

He came inside and closed the door. "How do you feel?" he asked her, with only a hint of worry creeping into his voice. He still had a few fliers clutched in his hand.

"You did," she acknowleged. "But a lot of people say things." She was now moving her slow way back across the room to the pile of pillows. She smiled again just faintly at his comment 'desk jerk' almost laughed. Shot him a look. "Don't make me laugh." It hurt to laugh, though just on the side that had been stabbed.

How do you feel?

Ask a silly question...well...you know.

"I feel like I've been violated," she replied bitterly. Then stopped walking and closed her eyes. She turned back to him. "I'm sorry, that wasn't.....I hurt, and I woke up angry." She inclinded her head towards his hand. "What's that?" Shit. Your just on a role being rude this evening aren't you Thorn? "I mean...If you don't mind me asking."

Finally she was at the pillows and stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at the pile as if sitting down might not be an opption. Finally she turned around and looked at him again without sitting.

"Can I get you anything?"

He smiled, a rather dazzling smile. "Nope you can't get me anything, I looted the place while you had your nap and forgot to mention it." he teased." Just sit down."

He waited till she sat and handed her a flier. "It's my sister, I've been trying to find her, I know she's in the city, but that's all." He said. He didn't mention that his step-sister was vicious and dangerous if provoked, and that it was terribly easy to provoke her. He also left out the part about her beating people with things like golf clubs, pipe wrenches and chairs.

"I sorta lost her, well a while back, and just got around to trying to fix that a year ago." he said. His brown eyes were filled with sadness.

He wasn't sure what else to say about it. he couldn't say I need to tell her that her sociopathic father who was a powerful mage is dead so she can try to live a normal life. Not many people would listen to that with out thinking he was crazy.

He looked at the floor for a few minutes and then spoke again. "I know you don't want to hear me tell you this, but I need to check that stab wound of yours."

She sighed. "I had hoped you needed something. Moving's not so bad now. Just...getting up and down really hurts." She lowered herself slowly down onto the pillows and took the flier. Her gray eyes seemed to be taking in every detail on the page.

She'd be one of the last to believe him, seeing as how she knows absolutly nothing about the magical world. Ignorance is bliss right? Her life is complicated enough without that bit of knowlege. "That's sad." She finally took her eyes off the paper but didn't give it back. She was keeping this one. "How did you loose her?"

I know you don't want to hear me tell you this, but I need to check that stab wound of yours.

She definatly did not want to hear that. Her eyes dropped to the floor again. It wasn't that she minded his checking it, it was the fact that it reminded her he'd seen her naked. It's a very uncomfortable situation for her you see. She nodded but didn't look at him. Her blood replenished now she was even able to blush along her cheeks, a soft pink flush over tanned skin.

"Sure." She pulled up the edge of the shirt, keeping everything carfully covered. After all, she'd lost the battle with the bra. The bandage was red. "It got like that when I was cleaning but..." she shrugged. "I didn't change it. I tried." It hurt so I stopped.

He picked up the bag from his drug store trip and made his way to her. The dressing definitely needed changing. He was as gentle as he could be while removing the tape from the old one. Looking at the thing today, he wasn't going to try to stitch it, it looked like it would heal, with time. He could infuse it with some magic and help it along while Thorn wasn't paying attention.

He answered her questions while he changed the dressing for her. "Well I didn't lose her outright, It was Mac that drove her away. He got all obsessed with tracking her down when she ran away. I joined the army to get away from him, and while I was away in the army, He and momma got divorced. I meant to track her down, but things, bad things kept happening to her.....she was running for a long time." He said as he worked. He spoke slowly hoping his voice wouldn't crack, losing "Katie" was one of his larger regrets in life.

"How's your chest?" he asked hoping she wouldn't blush again. She must hate that he'd seen her like he'd found her. His hand reached to her hair, it was slightly tangly already.