tampered | Log: Complete Aftermath

Current Mood: angry
Current Location: The Underground Entrance

Log: Complete Aftermath

When; New Year's Day a couple of hours after midnight
Rating; R
Characters; Rayne

just_rayne and Walter Dornez

dark_butler
Summary; After spotting the latest judgement announcement from the Red one, Rayne goes to find Walter and comes upon a gruesome sight.
Log;

The moment she had spotted the transmission from the creature and saw who his latest victim had been, a cold feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't leave the club she had been killing time in fast enough, grabbing her weapons which she had taken to carrying around constantly since the appearance of the so-called judge. She made a beeline for the door.

Fuck. This was turning into some goddamn surreal nightmare and she didn't like it. She was so angry she could barely think straight. If only she had gone after that creature in the first place instead of holding back. How fucked up was this? She knew almost nothing about Walter but somehow here she was trying to find him or at least what was left of him. Making the creature pay was at the forefront of her mind as she made her way back toward the entrance of the Underground.

The smell of blood hung heavy in the air...an all too familiar scent at that. Her paced slowed as the Underground entrance came into view and she was met with a very disturbing sight. "Oh fuck me," Rayne sighed.

Hanging upside down, pale as a ghost above a pool of blood was none other than Walter. She had done some pretty gruesome things in her lifespan but placing bodies on display like that was not her style and thankfully never would be. Slowly she walked up to him to access the damage. He was pretty well mangled...missing fangs, slit throat...cleaved torso...silver coins stuck in his throat and chest? What the fuck? At this point he was pretty much beyond regeneration by her estimation. "I'm sorry Walter. It looks like I'm too late," she said resigned.

Though he was obviously dead she just couldn't leave his body there like some slab of meat. Fuck girl, since when have you started caring about the people you take to bed? Examining the wires that binded him she looked for an opening, deciding to use one of her swords. With a graceful yet powerful swap of her arm, her sword sliced through the wire that held him dangling above the entrance. Her reflexes fast enough to catch him before he fell to the ground in a heap.

Gently she laid his body on the ground wondering where she could take his body. The smell of the burnt flesh due the silver coins assaulted her nose. A smell that once upon a time didn't bother her was now sickening. First things first, untie the body and remove the fucking coins. She told herself as she worked to free him from the bindings of the wires before finally setting to work pulling out the coins stuck in his throat and chest. Luckily she wasn't the sort to get sick over shit like that but with every piece of bloody silver she removed her anger toward the one who did this to Walter grew. As her fingers grew redder with blood so did her rage. That fucker was so going to pay. No one fucked with her or her playmates and she damn sure wasn't going to let this go unpunished. Even if that meant going after the so-called 'god' himself.

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Hell.

He'd finally made it to hell.

He couldn't see. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything except feel the pain. There wasn't a single source of the agony. He was floating in a red haze that made agony seem a pallid word to describe it.

But the agony grew. A violation that jolted through the haze again and again. Worse, the jolts lifted it like layers of red gauze laid over his eyes, each jolt another layer removed and a little more vision returned and he realized that something was moving in and out of his fixed vision.

A woman. Hell wouldn't have a woman that beautiful in it even if hell would have that much pain in it.

He knew her, didn't he?

Finally, as he waited for another jolt that didn't come, control of his eyes returned to him and he was able to turn them toward her, even if nothing else would obey him yet.

A name. A name. He should know her name....

Rayne.

As Rayne removed the final coin from his body her green eyes fell upon his bloody face and his...focused eyes? Shit...was he alive? Well as alive as vampires could get at least.

"Walter?" she asked, brushing his bloodied hair out of his face. "How?" she was out of questions at this point but she felt something akin to relief at seeing him looking at her. Ah dammit, I really do care. She thought exsperated. Those feelings would get her into trouble in the long run.

Sighing she pulled off her wrist guards and tossed them to the side. If he was going to regenerate he would need blood and since she was the only person present her blood would have to do. Biting into her own wrist to let the blood spill forth, gently she lifted Walter's head and urged him to drink.

Hopefully it would be enough until she could find him a larger source. He was going to need all the blood he could take in to recover from the injuries he had suffered.

He would if he could. Her blood dripped into his mouth, waking more nerves to screaming life, waking instincts he couldn't appease.

Life is pain. Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something. An unfamiliar voice speaking words he knew he'd heard before.

Where her blood fell, his body did its unnatural best to heal. When it trickled down his throat, flesh knit, strength returned. Until finally he could do more than lie there passively, but at least actively swallow what she offered.

He didn't even have it in him to hate his weakness, but part of him both hated and loved Rayne for this. He said he didn't fear death, and he'd stand by that, but he feared the red death that wasn't really death, just a limbo of pain.

This was probably the most gentle she had ever been in her life and she was partially disgusted with herself for it. I really must be growing soft with my old age, she thought still feeding him from her wrist.

When the hell did she become such a mother hen? What's next would she become a happy homemaker? Parish the thought, after this she was going to have to kill something preferably the Red one or his master.

She looked him over seeing that his body was indeed beginning to regenerate...slowly but that was to be expected considering the shape she had found him in.

"Can you talk yet or you would you prefer to think at me?" Rayne asked Walter mentally, using her ablity to project her thoughts for the first time with him.

"Still healing." The blood he'd been drinking hadn't even had a chance to make it to his stomach yet. Starved tissue soaked it up before it could get that far.

He remembered what had been done to him. The judgement did not come with the mercy of forgetfulness.

"I need more than you have." More what? His thoughts were muddied. He felt the cracks at the edges of his mind. Maybe this time they would shatter for good.

She nodded in response to his projected thoughts. She could conceivably kill someone in one of the clubs but she wasn't sure if that would be the best course of action all things considered.

If she could get him back to her place she did have blood packets that she had stored for days she didn't feel like hunting. There was of course the chance that it would still not be enough since he had been drained.

Her train of thought was broken when she felt his mind begin to wander. Not necessarily a good thing.

I'm going to try to get you back to my apartment. It will likely hurt...a lot but I'll do my best to be quick. she told him directly. Hopefully his mind would not wander too far off before she could get him more blood.

She was warning him that it would hurt? His lips formed a grimace that might have been intended as a smile.

"Like pulling a plaster. Faster is better." Faster, faster, faster. He'd been fast when he was a boy. Fast, flash, arrogant.

The cracks were spreading faster, faster, faster. His eyes snapped to something behind Rayne, a shadow? A flash of white coat and improbable hat that looked like a cat perched on the vampire's head. Hat is a cat. Cat is a hat. There's a cat in a hat. He'd tried reading Integral The Cat in the Hat but she'd had nothing of it.

The cracks, the cracks. Millennium's cracks. Hellsing's cracks.

"Faster."

He was losing it and for once she wished she could do more than just talk to him mentally but helping him keep his mind together was beyond her minor mental powers.

Sighing she grabbed her weapons and then moved to lift him up. She knew she was probably aggravating his chest wounds but what could she do. He had to be moved. Grabbing him about the waist she supported his weight and moved toward exiting the Underground.

Even carrying the slightly taller man she could still move about fairly quickly as she jumped onto a nearby store rooftop to survey her surroundings.

"Come on Walter, you stay with me now?" She projected hoping to draw his focus to one spot.

The she begin the task of leaping from building to building trying to reach her place before he lost more blood.

It had happened before. He'd been wounded and his body had done something unexpected. This time he was almost expecting it. It was the cracks that gave it away.

That quack German and his "hasty construction."

Under the added strain of moving, but with enough energy from the blood Rayne had donated, Walter's body cannibalized itself, suddenly growing lighter in Rayne's hold. The advantage? The auto-cannibalism allowed him to heal more. Enough to push the pain back, even while the cracks tried to spread.

The disadvantage? Well, looking like a fourteen year old boy would be considered a disadvantage to some. More of a disadvantage was trying not to think like a fourteen year old boy, but that concern was one of the farthest from his mind at that moment. The ghastly rent from collar to hip was closing, which was vastly more important than whether any of his clothes would fit his much shorter frame.

Fuck, age regression? This was something new to her what kind of vampire was Walter anyway? They had shared so little about themselves and well Rayne didn't think either one of them would want to share now.

A slight probing of his mind proved that he was in and out of conscious thought. She needed to hurry and get more blood into him before he suffered even more damage.

Taking advantage of his smaller and lighter state she hoisted him up higher and jumped on a powerline, sprinting across it like a cat before jumping down in front of her Building.

Walter, you need to hang in there. It's only a few more steps to go. She told him; letting him slide down to his feet, while she still supported his weight.

Walter leaned heavily against Rayne, eyes darting, looking for a slight figure in white. He should be there any second, shouldn't he?

He wouldn't hurt her. She wasn't an old playmate.

He was in the City. City. London. No. He was dead. Three times dead. Dead and here with Rayne. Was it a new year? How long had he been dead this time?

Rayne didn't know what Walter was looking for and she didn't want to probe into his private thoughts to get the details. The less she knew the better. Her strength easily compensated for his weight as she walked him into the Building and up to her apartment. Thank goodness she didn't live too far up.

"Walter, we're here."

She quickly unlocked her door and walked him inside. Tossing her weapons on the nearby table before walking him over to her bedroom. She helped him sit on the bed in her only windowless room.

"When the sun comes up you'll be safe in here. You can rest while I get you some more blood for you," she said aloud, brushing a hand across his face in an effort to offer any type of small comfort.

Walter would have put a broken hand over Rayne's, perhaps smiled, maybe even offered at least a mental thank you, but he was trying to pull the cracks together, slap mortar in them, remember his mind.

He was not this weak. Even dying three times did not excuse this unforgivable lapse.

That there was still a hole in his torso, not to mention the other wounds, didn't excuse it either.

His slumped shoulders slowly straightened. Angel of Death. He would "live" up to that.

"Please." His voice was harsh, barely audible. "I'll heal. Blood."

Rayne merely nodded at his request as she exited to go retrieve the blood she had stored. Good thing she had the foresight to get a supply of blood packets since they provided a quick fix between feedings.

Although after this she would likely have to go and restock considering how bad Walter's injuries were. He was going to need as much blood as she could get into him and then some. If she got her hands on that fucking "executioner" or his master she would make them pay. Oh hell yeah they were going to pay.

After a few moments she headed back to the bedroom to see Walter still sitting upright and seemingly looking off into space. She quickly walked over to him and kneeled down in front of him. Wrapping one of the blood packets open with her fangs she offered to help him drink it. Since his hands were still regenerating.

"Here," she said simply.

There was nothing to be served in refusing her help except his ego. Take the help, he told himself.

This was forging a tie, though. He'd been fighting those since he came here. Casual company was one thing. This was vulnerability and trust.

Dammit.

He leaned forward and drank, letting Rayne help him. Draining it did nothing to put a dent in his hunger. He was grateful that she wasn't human. It would have been a dirty deed if a human had found him and he'd repaid their help with murder.

He looked for more as soon as the first was emptied. He felt much like the drained packet with just a few dregs he'd been unable to reach.

She noted the slight hesitance in his manner but ignored it. He was probably thinking the same thing as her. Here she had spent years avoiding actual relationships and within a fucking week she was practically in one. She was more than willing to put this little episode behind them once he healed...of course she wouldn't side step it if the subject came up either though. And that annoyed her more. 'Geez, Severin would be laughing his ass off at you if he could see you now girl.' she silently scolded herself.

As soon as he emptied the first pack, she immediately opened the next one and offered it up to him.

Walter accepted the next packet and drank it even more quickly than the first. There's something rather disconcerting about feeling your skin knit closed, but it was welcome after having a huge hole in his body.

He still found himself trying to slip through the cracks, but concentrating kept him in the present and also kept his mind off the fact that he was healing so very slowly. Having no blood at all would do that to a body.

Gutted and hung like a sacrificial.... He shied from those thoughts. Body first. Memory later.

His hands weren't healed and his fangs weren't growing back. Apparently his body had prioritized those as luxuries behind the damage to his torso.

This time he reached for the next bag himself. After everything else, the pain in his hands wasn't that hard to overlook.

She knew it would be a long road to get him sated but she hoped she had a enough blood stored or else she would have to leave him alone to go out and get more. And she wasn't sure she wanted to leave him with his mind being so fragile. If he started seeing things...not only could he put himself in danger but could pose a threat to others.

Seeing that he wanted to feed himself Rayne handed over the third pack, ripping it open for him since she doubted he could do it himself.

"It looks like we'll need to pour some blood over the biggest wound to help the regenerating along," she noted still kneeling in front of him. Her hand grazing over the area accessing the damage again.

He serisouly should not have survived such a heinous act.

He hadn't.

The skin around Walter's eyes tightened as her fingers brushed the wound, but he'd suffered since waking mostly in silence, and he stayed silent while she examined it.

Rayne. He was with Rayne. In the City.

Finally he found his voice, uncomfortable though it was. "Thank you."

His words caught her off guard for a moment. It was strange how this place just seem to kind of push people together.

Allowing herself one genuine smile with no ulterior motives behind it. She looked up at Walter and said, "You're welcome."

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Log: Complete Aftermath

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