Fighting for Alpha [Indigo]

[Adley Reed]

Adley, of course, disagreed. He and Indigo could argue for hours about which one of them cared more for the other. The honest truth was that they cared for each other equally, fierce and loyal – but Adley would, one day, have Indigo believe she was worth every pedestal that he put her on. He would have her believe that she was worth being shredded to pieces for.

The trip home was a blur, Adley choosing to focus on the home they were heading toward. He imagined every nook and cranny, every sneaky spiderweb that he had yet to stretch and brush away, every soft cushion that always had one or two dog hairs clinging to it. He remembered where he’d come from, that tiny little apartment that felt like a matchbox, compared to the house he now shared with Indigo. He ignored the stares and the whispers and trusted himself to Indigo, his hand not once letting go of hers. It was easy to just let go and drift away from the pain, knowing that he could trust Indigo to get them home safely. He welcome the fever, the pain like waves pounding a beach. It was fascinating, the way a body reacted to it, and if he studied it like a science experiment, it affected him less.

Before he knew it, but also as if a year had passed, they were home. He was standing in the middle of the welcome hall and not knowing what to do next. And then through the fog came her voice, like honey. It soothed him, the sweetness overlaying all else. He was woozy as she led him toward the bathroom, face buried momentarily in the thick curls of her golden hair before he was forced to pay attention to where he was going. He tripped only the once but didn’t fall flat on his *** because he had Indigo there to hold him up. He’d tripped because he wanted the bedroom, not the bathroom, but he was steered easily to where he needed to be.

As soon as the jacket-cum-bandage was peeled from the garish wound Adley’s nostrils flared and that adrenaline kicked in again, a euphoric craze that had him, once again, fingering the edges of the wound, causing it to ooze. His knees buckled beneath him and he went down, just missing the tub. And he was laughing. With half his guts falling out, what were a few more bruises?

”…you can sew me up?” he asked, grinning like a fool up at the angel who would save him, her curls haloed so miraculously by the spotlight directly above and behind her.

[Indigo]

“Adley…” She wanted to have him climb into the tub before he lost his footing and strength. Not everything always went according to what she had planned and the drop of his weight was proof. “I will try my best.” She slid behind him and slid her hands under his arms. Curling each finger tight to form a set of long flesh like hooks she stepped back, hiking each of her long legs over the edge of the tub then began tugging. “If I need to I will learn what has to be done so you are put back together. I promise you that.”

Damn those eyes of his and that smile. He tasted so good. She had to only think of it and it was as if he was there right on the tip of her tongue. Nothing about it made it easy. It was a hard thing to shake. He needed healing and for the moment anything sexual would only drain him more. Her willpower to do right by him quickly shoved all else to the side. Indigo’s strength was never found in her arms or body. She soon found with her efforts she was using muscles she didn’t know she had to get Adley up and over the edge of the tub. Once she was successful she felt each lean part of her body coil up into stretched and taxed knots. Her eyes flowed downward over his body as she raised up. His blood coated her hands and now the white tub beneath both of them. Using the back of her hand she brushed the curls out of her face and ultimately gave up with the fast gathering of the bulk of her air and twisting it into a loose wrap which she secured in place with a clip conveniently on the vanity.

“I am hoping that we aren’t needing to worry about the factor of being sterile when it comes to closing you up.” He had been in the sewers long enough that he would be host to all sorts of the unfriendly and unseen even after she peeled his clothing off and hosed him down. Her hands started tearing the material on his body and pulling at it to make the removal was as easy on him as possible. “You need blood.” It was more than obvious as she found the gaping wounds once he was bare to her eyes. Her fingers showed no hesitation as they tapped at the edges of the massive tears. “First we need to tuck all this stuff in.”

Indigo was about as aware of what she was looking at as she would be looking at a scribbled map of Madagascar without any keys to guide her. Worst Case scenario she could shove whatever was trying to slip out back in the closest opening and sew it up with the thickest needle and surgical thread she could find. Rummaging in the vanity cupboards where they stored such kits and items for random wounds that were nearly impossible to avoid she soon located what would likely do the trick. Stepping back into the tub with the items she had at her disposal she gave no warning as she reached for the handheld shower head and turned the spray on to the highest setting. Heat was ideal and it made it far more easy to rinse away the blood so she could see the challenges she was about to face. Aiming for him she tried to be kind as possible as she showered him slowly from the neck down. Even in this severely compromised physical state there was no denying the power of his bare flesh and what it did to her.

“It doesn’t help that you make blood and guts look sinfully appetizing.” She released the supplies that she recently gathered to the wide blue tiled edge of the tub. The allowed her to use her free hand to wash him down with a soothing, consistent caress.

[Adley Reed]

The loss of blood had the dizzying effect of making Adley feel incredibly drunk. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been drunk. It could have been a defence mechanism, the shock coursing through his veins causing him to become numb to the fact he had lost an organ or two. Laughter was his tonic, and his balm, and even as his tailbone smacked into the hard bottom of the tub, he was only distracted by the feel of Indigo’s curls as they tickled his skin, and her breath upon his cheek.

But then her hair and her breath were gone and she was standing over him, like a house mother considering a particularly bad mess. Those golden curls were swept back into a loose clip and Adley frowned. He preferred it when her hair was down, and it didn’t occur to him that, at this moment, it was entirely impractical.

”Nooo,” he crooned as soon as Indigo set to work, his fingers reaching for her hair and seeking to release it from its binds. ”I am not sterile,” he said, taking her words completely out of context. ”Never sterile,” he said. Much good it did him now, however. It would not matter if he were sterile. In fact, it would probably be better for them, were he sterile, given the monsters they could spawn if they were not careful. The frown was fleeting as Adley pushed the bitterness from his mind, focusing on the woman who had her hands on him, washing him down like he was a horse who’d galloped through a storm and got himself all covered in mud.

He had laughed when she tore the clothes from him, barely helping as the fullness of the wound was revealed to the light. A hefty sigh flared his nostrils as he looked down, as he witnessed the damage the beast had done. Horror, for two fleeting seconds, returned. Adley’s feet pushed at the bottom of the tub as if he could run from the sight if only he could get up fast enough. But then his hands found Indigo’s arm, his face buried against her neck and he instantly calmed. He breathed in the scent of her, mixed with the scent of his own blood. His teeth were sharp as tiny scalpels as they nipped at the skin, so tender, so sweet.

It would not do to feed now, not when the wound was still open and still bleeding. And it would not do to feed from Indigo, his beloved, his charge. Not when he had lost so much, when he needed so much. He could drain her, could do more damage to her than he himself had suffered. Just a little taste, he told himself; he wasn’t laying still like a good boy. He was fighting his own lusts and need, teeth now dragging across skin to bring blood to the surface.

All control, it seemed, had been lost.

[Indigo]

The needle that could pass through the wake of battered flesh leftover from a traumatic storm held the thread securely in the center of it’s eye. Indigo settled her bare body between his legs. Only minimal effort was needed as her knees poised on the bottom of the tub spread apart sending his legs with. While her hand moved upward traveling the middle of his chest her lips formed a loose pillowy circle that released a sound requesting silence. A dip of her fingertips into the cool pools with the basin of slick torn flesh found her by surprise. Her eyes stuck with his like there were clues to be discovered as to what would happen next verses what really should. He needed so much but what would she deliver first?

There was no method behind the sinking of the needle into the surface of his flesh. Her long fingers worked the sharp point through and the pad of her thumb eased it with forced pressure back through the resistive layers of his skin. Any past repairs she had accomplished with him was less than textbook. She couldn’t sew a straight hem if her life depended on it. The drunken god’s eye string art appearance of her suturing skills would again criss-cross his wounds and remain until they healed or more often than not were opened by something else offensive. She was gaining ground in the rising pool of heat building around them. Her hips rolled forward and her thighs fanned out as her legs folded back so that her feet were the platform for her bare bottom to rest on. Her mind and her heart guided the dip of the needle as into returned for another tour of duty into the wounded abyss. As always she wanted to make it all better, wash it all away and return him back to what he was only hours before. If only with Adley it could be that simple, that easy. It never was.

It was the hand in her hair that sent the first of many shivers down her damp and bare spine. A release of the clip and the curls predictably tumbled down over her shoulders a few defiant ribbons of honey blonde plunged into her face.That hand responsible for their release held all the awareness needed of what could set her totally off her current course of healing. It held the power to send her to the places she had been known to visit with him. Sensual and questionable. The scrape of his teeth summoning her blood to rise and seep over the crevices left behind hindered her fingers. Each jolt sent them into a shaking slow dance of in and out to close the wound needing the most attention. There was no way to fix everything at the same time.

“Ahhh…” Her voice surfaced when her body gave in briefly to leaning into his. Indigo orbs rolled upward to the ceiling as their lids fell hard at the sensation of his mouth sticking close to her neck. The needle still managed to move and so did her hips, both rolling down and forward moving the rising water towards him. “Hold still.” She whispered as she pulled the needle back feeling the thick string skimming the surface of her skin. Her free hand curled at the back of his neck and did the opposite of what would make sense. A moan escaped her damp lips as her nails pressed with promise at the skin beneath.

[Adley Reed]

The sensation of the needle piercing the skin, over and over again, the sensation of said skin tugging and pulling together in unnatural ways – it was an irritant. That voice, smooth as honey, asked him to stay still but Adley could not. Just like when someone suffers a severe burn they don’t just sit there and take it. They probably swear vehemently and dance about, shaking their hand or their foot or rubbing at the offending spot to ease the pain. Every time the needle pierced his skin, Adley’s toes curled and his nerves twitched; his body was telling it to stop. It wanted to jump away from the pain. It was an itch he was not allowed to scratch and he was distracting himself with the body attached to the hand that happened to be causing said itch.

”No,” he murmured against Indigo’s neck. No, he would not hold still. He could not hold still. Would the stitches even do any good? He did not scar. Vampires could grow back limbs. The wound was clean. So long as he kept it wrapped up, did it even need stitches? The question continued to repeat. He needed blood, he told himself. Blood, not stitches. At least, that’s what his body was telling him. It’s what his body was craving. Still, he would not stay – not in the way that Indigo wanted him to. After the denial was gruffly uttered, sharp canines pierced flesh in much the same way her needle had. Blood bubbled to the surface and Adley’s lips clamped around the wound allowing none to escape. Again, his feet pushed against the edge of the tub to push himself a little further upright, his arms around Indigo, his fingers digging into flesh.

He took what he needed, he took what he shouldn’t. He took without asking, though he assumed she would tell him there was never any need to ask. He took without realising who he took from; the only thing that existed was the taste of her on his tongue, the thrill of her as she slid down his throat and exploded within his veins. Luscious as honey, he wanted all of her.

He did not care if she straddled his hips nor if the stitches were ripped clean from their moorings. He did not care if, where her body rubbed against his, it only agitated the itch, the pain that already existed. It was not the pain that he had minded. It was only the shock of seeing his own organs laid out in his own hands that had shaken him. Now, he cared about nothing but the blood.

[Indigo]

All movement of her fingers stopped. The thread, the needle and the motion of her hand that was responsible went still. The effort to pull and put together what was torn and compromised was not needed. Not at the moment she felt the sharp penetration of his intent to meet he had lost. What she was trying to fix was minor and cosmetic compared to the replenishment of his blood. There was no resistance. No shifting or motion coming from her body. She was offering all that he needed by allowing the continuance of what he started. Then and there she felt the powerful draw depleting her as he indulged in what he would never have to ask for. Each drop was his.

A lesson was gained in the growing weakness that enveloped her. Blood was where it was at. Everything else was secondary. Touch, emotional connection and assurance didn’t hold a candle to what she was losing in precious amounts. The way she went about all of it to that point was the wrong approach. She was offering physical bandaids to what would never need one. Could she be any closer to human than that? In that moment she was aware of one thing more than ever. She still has so much to learn.

A rush of cool air flowed over her lips as she gave in to what was far more powerful than she cared to fight. No resistance to rise and say enough when it was Adley. She would succumb to the draining that weighed her down closer than ever to the support of his body beneath her, the tub basin beneath him. All of it would be enough to ground her until he was done...or she was.

In the seconds that passed the sensation of freedom grew. The transfer of blood that had been so important, so vital left her with less to worry about. Her muscles lost their urge to coil back, her lids felt heavy and her eyes drifted back leaving the pristine white orbs in place of the exotic blues that would usually be blindingly vibrant.

[Adley Reed]

The blood was the be all and end all. Adley was a desert, and the blood Indigo offered was a flood coursing through him, replenishing him, bringing life back to him. Within him there was not a thinking, reasoning man but only a vampire, intent on sating its thirst – no more than an animal, devouring its kill after bringing it down. Prey that did not fight but instead gave into him, his arms coiling around the body of his victim as if he were a python. Instead of breaking its bones, however, he wanted to tear it limb from limb. He wanted to see the blood paint the roof, the walls, the tiles of the pristine bathroom. He wanted to see it about as much as he wanted to devour it, twin lusts fighting for control.

It was a single coiling strand of Indigo’s hair that saved her. A single curl that tickled at Adley’s nose as he drew in a breath only so that he could revel in the scent of blood. The tickle caused his nose to twitch, caused his mouth to relinquish its hold upon the flesh of Indigo’s neck, an involuntary sneeze let loose against her shoulder. Another sharp intake of breath before he sneezed again… and then a third time. Out of nowhere, a simple human reaction had brought him to his senses. In those sharp breaths he caught not the scent of blood, but the unmistakable scent of Indigo, his Bee. The river of red that had bombarded his senses was dispersed – his hunger wasn’t as great. In fact, it was gone, blood replaced. He couldn’t say as much for Indigo, however, who lay there against him, depleted.

Why had she not resisted?!

Of course she hadn’t, and he knew deep down that she wouldn’t. For each other, they were selfless. They would give their lives, the world, to keep the other safe, to give each other what they needed. Still, Adley cursed under his breath, dizzy from his recent episode, and clutched at Indigo’s neck.

”Bee! No…” he said, blood still coating his throat, his voice hindered by the thickness of it. ”What…” he took a breath, shook his head. He couldn’t berate her. He couldn’t ask what did you do?! She had done nothing. It was all him. He had done it. He was the one who hadn’t let her finish stitching him up just so that he could… what? Drain her dry? The sentence wasn’t finished, and instead a ragged moan crawled from his chest. His fingertips grew warm with the magic that would force the blood back into her body. He doubted he could replace all of it, but could he replace enough? He pressed his plump lips to hers.

”I’m sorry…” he breathed against them. ”I’m so sorry…”

[Indigo]

“I love you.”

Her cool words spread on the surface of their parted lips. It felt so good to say it. She never meant anything more than when she told him so. Even when the pull of the sedation clung to her she knew all too well with her desire for him. It defied the depths to which it could deliver her. She was oblivious to anything but how intoxicated she was with him. Even the word 'love'was so limited when she felt like she was set free with his presence, his touch. It washed over her and gave her something to fuel her that nothing else could ever quite reach within her.

“Can’t be sorry for that, baby.” She struggled to resist the way her body was drifting away even though it was nearly lifeless in his arms. “I am never going to stop loving you.”

He knew how it was going to be. And in that moment the rush of what they shared flowed back through her. Like a last wind coming in that was needed against the fading odds it did the work and lead her back to where she never really left to begin with. Nothing could truly keep her from his reach when it mattered most. They were joined by something far more powerful than blood. It would be there even if they both were empty with nothing left to give. She was his and he was hers. They were never poor or too rich to ever lose sight of that.

Her fingers found their way to his face. Beneath the coolness of his loving hands she pulled him closer and ignored the parts of him still open. Even the tickle of the string that would never be strong enough to hold Adley together lost it’s ability to distract her. Not even the unexpected sharp bite from the needle still dangling from the unfinished work didn’t create cautionary space between her body and his. Her mouth found his and her wet curves responded in kind. This was the healing she could offer.

[Adley Reed]

They had to move, didn’t they? Adley couldn’t think properly. Indigo came to life just long enough for her body to melt against his – as broken as it was, as torn up, radiating with pain, it still responded to her touch. His fingers were tangled in her hair, kisses pressed to her jaw, and her cheek, and her lips. Again and again, her lips.

”I love you, Bee,” he purred. The bathtub was cold and hard beneath him. Beneath them. The bed wasn’t that far away. They were a pair – they were a mess. They were addicted to each other, and that addiction trumped all else. Any wound, and loss of blood, any needle and any string were redundant compared to their addiction. Adley imagined staying there, sleeping there in the bathtub and he was still so weak and numb. Curled up with his Indigo, it would be just the same as a warm, comfortable, soft bed, wouldn’t it? He tried to convince himself. But no. He couldn’t stop thinking of that warm, comfortable, soft bed. Gathering the last of his strength and ignoring all his own broken pieces, he shifted and he wrapped his arms around Indigo, pulled her to him and held her cradled against his chest. With Indigo in his arms he stood, and steadied himself. He swayed just a little but would not fall.

One step, and then two, and he was over the lip of the bathtub. That was the hardest part. Out into the hall and then left, through to the bedroom, already dimly lit. The bed, so clean and so welcoming and he was about to tumble them both into it, his wound still weeping. The sheets would have to be washed. Maybe burned, and new sheets bought. But he couldn’t care about the cotton.

They should have slept it off, but of course they wouldn’t, not until the day time claimed their consciousness. That huge bed, made for more than two, housed them like a cocoon, their own sanctuary, undisturbed and at ease. No monsters would find them here. Not ever.