Fighting for Alpha [Indigo]

[Adley Reed]

Backdated to February 17th

Adley had been wounded before, but never to this extent.

He’d been wounded so bad that he’d died -- but that had been fine. He’d been so full of adrenaline that he hadn’t noticed the wounds. They hadn’t hindered him. He’d died, and when he’d come back they were all gone. Bullet wounds healed. Some took longer than others but they were small, easy to ignore. This, though?

What the **** was that thing?!

Colourful curses streamed from Adley’s full lips as his fingers, slick with blood, did their best to hold in the dead organs that threatened to tumble from his mauled gut. Stars danced behind his eyes as he tried to heal himself but to no avail -- the extra blood he pumped into his system just bled right back out again. Blood. It slipped over torn and ragged skin and soaked into his tattered shirt, the denim of his jeans. Sweet, vampiric blood splattered the walls -- through which the beast had disappeared -- and puddled on the floor.

The catacombs were a maze around him. The catacombs -- under the city, through which he would have to traverse only to enter the maze that was the sewers. The nearest exit from the sewers landed him in Cherrydale which was on the other side of the city to Swansdale. He needed Swansdale. He needed home. How the **** was he going to get there? If he moved, he felt like his body was going to split in two.

Sliding down the wall with a hiss he tugged his phone from his pocket. Half of it was covered in blood but, luckily, it still worked. Except, there was no signal. Another string of expletives, and Adley was on his feet, grinding his teeth as he shuffled and dragged himself toward the exit. A little higher up, and now in the sewers, the phone’s bars finally hiked. Leaning heavily against the grimey sewer wall, he called Indigo.

It went to message bank.

When she listened, she’d catch the end of another string of expletives.

”--uck ****. ….Bee, you’re not a ****.” Sharp intake of breath. “I need help. I’m in the sewers.” Hiss, as something shifts uncomfortably in his wrecked gut. “Bring … ah… ******* sheet, or something. Please. Near the cata--.”

The call ended abruptly as the phone slipped from his fingers and crashed into the sewerage at his feet. Now, now it was dead.

[Indigo]

Caramel fingers dropped the last brush in the white ceramic mug that wore the message of identification. Paint water it was. The matching mug next to it contained the dry ring of what had been hot tea hours earlier. There on the desk where she left it is where it would sit until she was inspired to make more. For the moment she was taking the canvas she had been working on in hand and lifted it for placement on the easel nearby her current workspace. With a few seconds of adjustment the wet 24 x 36 wood frame was perched evenly just where she liked it. Some found watching paint dry to be what they referred to when something was far from interesting. Indigo eyed the finished product and felt many things but boredom was certainly not one of them. As the minutes ticked away she sat poised on her rolling studio chair admiring the shimmer of the paint that was fresh where she brushed it.

Beautiful, rich colors that reminded of her of unreachable places, sensations so infrequent she savored them that much more and the hints of what was yet to come were embodied in each stroke to the surface that held her attention. It took several events in her young life to bring her the maturity and appreciation for what she allowed to all but fully absorb her current existence. Timeless. Once she created it then it would be. The sounds of the front doors to the Apiary opening lured her focus over the Life is Beautiful floor mural and to the adjacent room where the studio gave her a limited view of.

“I am back. I come with good news.” The sounds of Ross with Nigel in tow were as predictable and telling as the sounds of the clock on the furthest wall from where she sat. The ease of her body rising from the round padded seat beneath her was met with the appearance of both men nearly hidden beneath their bulky winter wear. “Well…” Ross gave an effort to acknowledge Nigel was to be included in any credit due of his upcoming announcement. “We both do actually.”

Nothing more was said while they appeared as attentive as any couple in love doing the honors of assisting each other with the removal of their jackets, long earthtone scarves and gloves. The phone that she had set on her business desk chirped for attention while the seasonal outerwear was neatly hung where it belonged in the studio. A stretch of her arm had the device in her hand and the sweep of a manicured thumb brought the screen to life. Adley’s voice was audible as was the message as she brought it to her ear. She felt her world in that moment sink or shift or whatever it did to bring on the uneasy feeling that filled her. She pocketed the phone while her long stride had her passing Nigel and Ross who were wiggling into a comfortable fit of the clothing that remained on their bodies.

“Indigo?” A finger went up to raise a point that should signal they are ready to discuss things with her. “We…”
“Where are you going?” Nigel asked turning on his heels in unison with Ross. “Ross, where is she going?”
“Indigo?” The sound of his first step forward was drown out by the clicks of her own steps as she tugged the first jacket within her reach as she walked briskly out of the studio without a word.
“She left.” Ross turned around to find Nigel on his heels. “And she just took my coat.”

[Adley Reed]

Every random sound was a cause for concern. What was the thing that had attacked him and what was its purpose? Why had it just disappeared? Was it merely playing with him, ready to pounce again when he least expected it? What was it waiting for? It wasn’t as if he were currently in any condition to do it much harm. Was it a thinking and feeling being, something that took pleasure in playing with its prey? Or was it merely just stumbling around in the shadows, randomly groping with its sharp claws at whatever it came across? It didn’t matter what any of the answers were, Adley still felt like a sitting duck. His eyes were wide as they tried to penetrate the gloom. Where shadows had never bothered him before, now he crawled further down the tunnel to creep closer toward the light.

Up above there was the city street. There was no one out there, really. He could hear distant music coming from Grey’s Saloon, but it wasn’t the busiest drinking hole in town, given it was so far out of the way and set amidst closed shops, quiet homes, warehouses, and parkland that blended straight into the wilderness. The military presence nearby, the church, the graveyard -- it made people uneasy. But still, the proximity of life was a comfort.

The broken phone had been picked up and examined beneath the light; Adley tried to revive it but to no avail. The screen was cracked and when he shook it, he could hear the water sloshing around inside. It had got in through the microphone, the speaker, the headphone jack. He could only hope that Indigo would get his message. When? He tried to recall his other half and her habits with technology. Was her phone always with her, or was she prone to leaving it places? No, she owned several businesses and was often getting phonecalls. Her phone wouldn’t be too far away; it wouldn’t be too long before she checked her missed calls.

Even now, Adley was ever the optimist.

Rather than risk too much attention above ground, Adley found a dry-ish wall and slid down it. He sat there on the dirty ground, smelling like sewage and ancient dust. And yet, over all that he could smell his own blood. Now that he had calmed somewhat, he couldn’t help but be fascinated by it, by the way it pulsed over his fingertips. Dizzy, he lifted a finger to his mouth -- the taste of his own blood wasn’t satisfying, but oh…

No longer did he try to hold himself together. Swept away by a familiar and terrifying frenzy, Adley started to poke and prod. It was his own skin, his own organs, and yet they may as well have belonged to fresh prey. The wound was torn wider by exploratory fingertips. What, then, did his own blood taste like if sucked from a freshly spilled kidney…?

[Indigo]

The only place she could imagine Adley would be given the snippet of his message she was able to still hear replaying in her head was the place she pinpointed to once she stepped out of the transit in Cherrydale. He needed covering which would mean he was not fit to be seen be it current condition or otherwise. She knew the drill and typically it was the darker the better when it came down to those factors. What she was wearing had no relevance as she started heading south to the entry point. She was dressed for business but where she was destined to go was far more suited for anything but what she had on. Her creator, her dark angel finally was asking for rescue and nothing could stop her from doing just that.

The trip down to the sewers was hardly a routine one. Her hand held the coat in her grip as if she could be prepared to use it for anything but to wear. Unseasonably warm weather had less eyes following her as she continued on holding the garment instead of using her own shoulders to support it and freeing up her hands. Back and forth it moved, whipping outward with the long and continuous stride she maintained. Much of her felt like she was floating on the waves of concern that were flooding her as she moved closer to the one spot so many disappeared through daily. Her senses were heightened along with the energies that they triggered into preparation to act when the time to do so would come.

Into the dark depths below her body descended and finally dropped into the slick sludge that coated the interior and walls that seemed to enclose her. Her nose usually would have developed an instant block on taking in any air in her nostrils or lungs. Sewers are the intestinal tract of the monster city Harper Rock had become. It was was no bed of roses she was landing in and far from tiptoeing through the tulips. But there was nothing about it that could compete with the concern that she carried with her and she could smell him despite all the sewage that was impressively rancid around her.

What was going on with Adley?

The question consumed her as she moved. All the possibilities and worst case scenarios spun through her head. He never asked for her help. He always was the protector. Then again, Adley Reed had a certain portion of pride that had him going through the typical tenderizing that could be found in the night hours of the unstable city and rarely saying a word when he returned home. Obviously he needed her because he wouldn’t have called if he didn’t. She also had a suspicion that the sound of his voice was hardly revealing the full extent in which he did. That was when she discovered what would be the last thing she would have expected to see in the nearly black abyss she was traveling in.

“Adley?!” Her voice increased with volume as she finally discovered him in worse shape than she could ever recall seeing him in before.

[Adley Reed]

If there was anything that could remind a vampire of being human, it was pain. To have one’s guts spilling from one’s own torso -- well, it was a shock to the system. And, despite having a system that was no longer human, the reactions were still the same. There was a war waging within the Necromancer; one of horror, and one of intrigue and hunger. The organ he held in his hand could have belonged to anyone. Even if it did belong to someone else it was horrifying to think that he might have been the one to tear it free. This organ did not belong to someone else; it belonged to him.

With each passing second more blood pumped from the wound that could not heal. Adley’s normally pale features began to look more corpse-like than usual, dark rings under his eyes looking more like bruises than shadows. His limbs shook, and if he could sweat it would bubbling from his pores. Blood coated his fingers so that his skin looked naturally crimson. It was smeared up his arms and now over his lips and chin.

The horror, in parts, outweighed the lust, but it was never enough to make him stop. Even while he chewed on his own flesh there was a voice screaming in the back of his mind, telling him to stop. The man was sobbing even as he was humming his satisfaction. It felt like hours later that Indigo’s voice broke through the buzz, the blur of his addled psyche clearing and shattering. The kidney finally slipped from his grasp, landing on the hard floor of the sewer with a squishy ‘plop’. He coughed before he swallowed, and swallowed again, and a third time for good measure. He was trying to swallow the lump in his throat but it wouldn’t shift.

He wanted only to turn to Indigo and cry for help but he didn’t. Instead, his teeth clamped shut and, shakily, he attempted to push himself to his feet. “Did … did you bring a sheet?” he asked, only turning to Indigo, in the end, to keep himself from looking at the mess he’d made -- the mess that only inspired him to make it worse.

[Indigo]

Indigo stumbled with her increased steps toward him. Her hands shook with the attempts of her fingers to offer what she brought in place of the requested sheet. It was the one thing in his current condition he used his strength to ask for. Her brows knitted and her lips parted to say something, anything that could possibly apply given the situation but she was distracted. The scent of him was overwhelming. So much more than she generally took in while in his presence. He was in pieces and shredded in ways he had not been since she had known him. Wherever she looked she discovered what made no sense. Her focus locked on the glistening mass beside him as she sidestepped it to get in close and cover the gruesome condition he was in.

“What is that?” She glanced to him and shook her head pulling her attention to what was most urgent and that was tending to him. It really didn’t matter what it was. It was familiar and questionable but hardly life threatening to Adley. Whatever got a hold of him obviously was capable of coming back again if he had not destroyed it already. “Nevermind.” She kneeled down and embraced him hoping to inspire him to rise to his feet. “We need to get you out of here.” Tighter her body pressed to his and formed a link of her hands at the opposite side. She used what strength she had to pull him up with her rise. “You think you can make it back to the house?”

Taking him back to the Apiary was not an option. Not with the way he looked. The Hive would have to suffice. There she could see what the true damage was and if need be call all the king's horses and all the kingsmen to come and help put Adley back together again. Or in the very least patch and stop up whatever needed to be.

“Is it safe to go back the way I came?” It was her subtle way of asking if anything was still a threat to them as they made their way back out of the sewers. Indigo was no fighter. She could handle herself just enough to ward off an attacker and make a run for higher ground but that was usually a result based on luck more so than her skills as a fighter.

[Adley Reed]

Indigo’s arms were around him and Adley sucked in a deep lungful of air. All he could taste was the scent of her, clean and unbloody. But he knew what lay just beneath the surface, the blood that kept her alive. The magic, cool blood of a vampire. Blood that was not his own, and thus blood that would taste far superior. Blood that he had tasted before. He’d had to resist Indigo once before, the night he’d met her. But then, she’d not got this close, and he hadn’t been quite so feral.

“Indie…” he gasped, his breath cool against her neck; he held most of his own weight but still, he leaned against his Bee. Bloodied fingers tangled themselves in her clean clothes, in her golden locks. His forehead, feeling fevered, brushed against her temple and his teeth, long and sharp, nicked her slender neck.

Not here, he told himself. Not now.

It took all his willpower and strength to grab at Indigo’s waist and push back, putting some distance between himself and the promise of her blood. And that same strength would have to be held onto, and held in reserve while they made their way home. Oh, how he craved the warmth of that bed and sweet, sweet slumber. Would he be able to sleep or would he continue to try to pull his own organs from his torso? Could he even heal this much? Could he regrow organs? He had to avoid stepping on his own liver. His liver. On the ground. A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him and he took an unsteady step toward the exit.

“There’s no other way,” he rasped. “Let’s just be quick,” he said. He didn’t know where the monster was, or whether it would come back. He didn’t know if they were safe. He didn’t even know if being above ground would bring them safety, but it would be a step in the right direction.

[Indigo]

“It wasn’t like you were using it.” She tried to be reassuring and optimistic because whatever it was laying on the ground obviously was not impeding his ability to function. He would get by without it. One of the many perks of being closer to immortal than to the living. “Think of it as less baggage to haul around. That is always a good thing.” She glanced back. “Especially in this case.”

Her cool hand curled about his back and somehow found a place to hook her thumb to stay in contact as they moved in unison towards the exit. Her steps were far more steady than his and she did her best to compensate for whatever he lacked during their walk and weave through the sewer back tracking her recent route taken.

“You set the speed and I will do what I can to divert any attention.” Her powers hardly were phenomenal compared to most on her path but she was sinfully charming if needed and creative enough it could be considered criminal if the situation called for it. “Just keep wrapped up and let me do whatever it takes to get us back safe…” She exhaled the heavy littered air of the sewers as the finally surfaced just where she had entered what seemed moments before. “Especially you.”

On the street the sounds of distant sirens pierced the night. Her fingers curled firmly keeping a hold of the one she felt responsible for more than ever. How much blood he lost was hard to tell but the weakness it brought on was the hurdle that they would need to clear as soon as possible. What had possessed him to be down where there was something so threatening was a mystery. “Whatever got a hold of you is not getting a second chance.” Her words may have been amusing to the one who knew far better than anyone else what she was and wasn’t physically capable of but she meant each one nonetheless. “There is nothing worth getting yourself shredded to pieces over.”

The scent of his open flesh was hard to ignore. The borrowed barrier of material she brought with was doing a majority of the expected job at keeping it the damage done concealed from the random eyes that glanced at them while on the move. She would owe someone a jacket afterwards and possibly an explanation if he was insistent on getting it returned.

[Adley Reed]

The climb out of the sewers was the tricky bit. His fingers were slick with his own blood and it was hard to keep wrapped up while not holding on to his own torso. As soon as they were above ground Adley stumbled a step or two before he found his balance against Indigo, his other arm pressed tight over the jacket that covered the gaping wound. His blood was thick and it easily bled through the jacket’s material, so if he pulled his arm away it would be stained red. Adley almost wanted to throw up, more with the shock than with anything else. But Indigo’s voice kept him strong, and he wanted to tell her to just keep talking.

The fresh air helped, and thankfully there was a strong breeze. It was strong in that it was relentless, and only every now and again did it die down to allow Adley a gasping breath of the scent of his own blood. He schooled himself to just stop breathing, to keep his eyes on the path ahead of him. Don’t think about. Think about bed, instead. Think about the softness of those pillows and the tender touch of the woman who now vowed to get them home safe.

”I’m fine,” he croaked, then coughed. He grunted before he took another sharp inhale, if only so he could keep talking. He didn’t want to admit that he felt weaker than he ever had, that he was desperate for Indigo’s help – and not just to get him home. Her mere presence bolstered him, but he still felt that urge to be the ‘man’, to be the strong one. He needed to be able to laugh this off.

”You’re worth getting shredded to pieces over,” he said, lips brushing the rise of Indigo’s cheek as he shuffled along beside her. If he’d honestly thought he was strong enough he wouldn’t have called Indigo into the sewers, not if there was even a hint of a threat lingering. But they were out now, and the thing hadn’t got to her, too. They would be okay. The muscles in his jaw bounced as he did his best to straighten his shoulders, to walk without scuffing the soles of his shoes against the pavement. The Cherrydale station was close, and he was looking forward to taking a seat. The Swansdale station was practically at their doorstep.

The lights washed over them, the stairs up ahead. He looked more dead than ever, but he still flashed a smile at a woman leaving the station. She chirped a little in surprise but hurried on her way. That was the way with most people these days. They wouldn’t stop to help. It wasn’t in their nature.

[Indigo]

“No I am not.”

Indigo voiced her disagreement with his statement. She knew full well it was the truth when it came to risk and to Adley. Nothing about her was worth him being harmed. Unfortunately that was becoming a bit of a pattern lately. One that started to concern her since it was he that seemed to be coming out of whatever they got caught up in looking worse for wear. Was she really worth it? She couldn’t help but consider it as they continued to step along.

“I want you safe, Adley.”

Her hands were slick with the proof that for the moment he was far from it on the streets that they were walking. The length of her fingers clung tighter to the surface of bone and cool flesh beneath her hand.She sighed and tried to give him everything she had to offer to rejuvenate him. Using her own energy to inspire him to be more positive in his thinking perhaps was all she currently could offer in the momentary silence between her words. Unfortunately whether it would work or not was not up to her.

“Ignore the faces and eyes. Spare your energy.” He could be devastatingly charming even as he was bleeding out beneath his smile.

Through the station she guided him. Each nameless face that stared too long was an increased annoyance. What was going on was not of their concern. She felt sour for the duration of their short travel home. Only when she got the door in Larch Court open did she finally feel an ease in the tension that had been in her body brought on by hopelessness. She should be able to do more for him than she currently could. There were powers out there she could gain but moments like this revealed how frivolous she had been with her time thus far. Carefree and happy in her lot in the new life he had given her had been at the cost of what? Indigo orbs fixed on him as soon as she finished dropping her keys and locked their front door.

“Time to let me see you, baby.” She stepped toward him without any reservation as to how he would react. Whatever damage had been done was capable of killing her as much as it was him even if he was the only one bleeding. She wasn’t sure where she ended anymore and he began. There were no lines. She doubted there ever was. “I am going to fix this.” Her hands peeled off her top layers before she reached him and dropped it all to the red chair as she passed by. “Bathroom.” Her hand was around him again leading him gently to the one place that made the most sense to take issue with his significant wounds.