tampered | closed;

Entry tags:

closed;

When; Nov. 1st and Nov. 5th
Rating; PG-13-ish with death and violence.
Characters; Rita (

blackshadow)
Summary; Rita and Tyr losing their heads. One of these is literal.
Log;

Once the influence of the Halloween curse ended and they were both back to normal, Rita...well, she felt pretty awkward. She'd had no idea the costume she'd worn was some vampire from Tyr's world, and there she'd gone and bitten his neck. Thinking about the fact that she actually drank his blood--it grossed her out. But at least she hadn't hurt him.

But it was exactly that which also struck her as a little weird. Tyr didn't usually like having his neck touched all that much, so it could've been the influence of the curse...

In any case, here it is in the morning, and Rita's still in costume at the house because she hasn't been bothered to change. She should probably apologize to Tyr if he's awake and see how he is.

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They're a pair of wrecks right now, both of them, so she's just going to cling right back to him and stroke his hair. But the idea that maybe hugging him is exactly what's upsetting him further runs through her mind... She knows she's cold and dead, and he's so, so warm in comparison. But she...doesn't really want to let go, either. He can cry as much as he needs to, because she'll be here for him.

Making her warmer is the one thing he can do with her right now. Even his tears are warm on her neck compared to her skin. He doesn't want to let go of her now. She's...alive. As alive as she can be right now...

Anti-climatically, his stomach groans loudly.

As much as she really wants that warmth, feeling it also drives home the difference: she's dead, cold, and bloodless...

But she's startled from that pretty quickly when she hears his stomach--and takes it the wrong way as she quickly pulls back and asks, "You're not gonna be sick or anything, are you?"

He scrambles back when she does, worried that he freaked her out somehow. He doesn't even understand what she's asking at first. He was sick a long time ago; he's not sick now.

"Of course not- you're fine."

A moment, and then she relaxes--and feels pretty dumb about freaking out. AFter everything, she's...kind of jumpy.

"Uh--sorry," she mumbles and rests her hands on his arms again. "So...you're hungry?"

Now that he's over the surprise, he wipes his face with the back of his hand. He's such a mess...

"I'm fine," he insists. He really doesn't have the appetite- or he thinks that since he knows Rita doesn't. "Don't worry about it."

She shakes her head. Of course she isn't hungry herself--and she knows why she isn't going to be--but Tyr can't just brush it off. "Fine or not, we both heard it. Is there anything here...?" She isn't expecting the apartment to have much when nobody even lives here. Some canned goods, maybe...

He shakes his head slowly. "I tried to clear the food out after we left..."

And now that he thinks of it, there isn't much of their own clothing here... They can wear other people's clothes, but...

The hallway. His face pales as he remembers.

"We need to get cleaned up anyway--I need to clean up," he tells her as he scrambles off the bed. "Sorry..."

It's as much as she expected, then...

Any thoughts of what do to for Tyr banish pretty quickly when she sees the look on his face, and she starts to move, too. "Hey, Tyr-" If he's cleaning up, she might as well... Looking down, she does register that her clothing is pretty bloodstained. What the hell happened to her?

He wants to clean up before she figures that out. There was so much blood - splatters on the walls and floor, two pools of blood, and his own clothing is stained with her blood too. She can't go outside the room until he cleans it.

Without any hesitation, though, he stops when she calls to him.

"Rita?"

"We should both clean up," she answers, voice subdued. At least it wasn't a repeat of earlier--yesterday--when she tried to stop him from leaving and he wouldn't listen.

But he's still stubborn. "No--this is my place; I'll clean up..."

He's almost surprised how quickly he says that (which, really, is a little unnatural) instead of stumbling over the truth.

"Huh?" Even putting aside how fast his reply is, for a moment, she's confused. "You mean..."

Oh...of course. The blood won't just be on the two of them. Wherever she died--in the hallway, she thinks...

"...I'll still help," she finally says after a long pause.

"You don't have to..." There's a quake of uneasiness in his voice. He doesn't want her to see--he should have cleaned up earlier, but he couldn't leave her.

He doesn't think she'll just back down from this either. If she really wants to, he'll let her.

"It's okay--I know...I know." She knows what's out there... She isn't leaving him to clean it all up by himself, not when he's the one who was just crying.

If she did, he'd probably cry again... Even if he'd deny it just like he would now with his eyes rimmed in red. It just feels...wrong to make her clean up her own blood... She shouldn't have to face that kind of pain.

Still, he nods slowly and looks way from her. "If you're sure..."

She doesn't really want to see it, but she knows there's no hiding from the fact that she died there. And with how close they are, it feels even more wrong to Rita to make Tyr face it by himself.

So she climbs off the bed and stands in front of him, answering with a little more certainty, "I am. Let's go."

"All right..." he mumbles after a little silence. At least one of them is strong--and it should be him--but she doesn't know what it looks like. What it felt like to see her...

He reaches out to take her hand and tries to look strong with his head high and his voice soft but steady. "Thanks..."

He is strong. Maybe she doesn't know what exactly to expect, but they're facing it together. His hand is warm when she lets him take hers, and she gives it a little squeeze. "Ready?"

Her hands are like ice, but he doesn't think about letting go. She's still his Rita, and he still loves her. He'll be here for her.

With that in mind, he nods and leads them to the door, opening it just enough for them to pass through. In the darkness of the hallway, her blood almost looks violet from where it stained the floor. There are smudges in the patterns from where he went over to hold her, when he walked to pick her up, but her blood simply slid down the walls to the baseboard and is completely unchanged.

And for all he wants to be strong, he still ends up clinging tightly to her hand and looked over to her feet instead of the scene before them. There were things he was going to say, like 'The cleaning supplies are in the closet' and 'Let's divide the work' or 'I can afford to hire someone,' but he doesn't say any of that. There's a cold cloud of fear in his mind that keeps the words stuck in his throat.

Rita isn't sure what she feels as she stares at the bloodstained hallway. No lightheadedness, no fear, anything... Maybe it's because she's already cold so her temperature can't drop any further and her heart is already stopped so it can't skip any beats. There's just a feeling of numbness as she observes the dried splatter and rivulets on the wall, the pool on the floor, and even Tyr's footprints.

Whatever happened, it was violent.

That thought runs through her mind as she grips Tyr's hand right back. It's like that's the only sensation she can really focus on right now. "...This'll take a while," is what she manages to get out after a moment. Her voice is a lot quieter than it was when she decided to come out here with him.

He wants to hold her and make sure nothing happens to her again. He doesn't want her to have to see her own blood spilled down a hallway like this again. Ever. Protect her. He has to protect her.

Still, her words break him out of his stupor, and he finally finds it in him to reply, "We can hire someone to clean--you don't have to do this..." His voice is tight - could he talk after his throat was originally cut?, he wonders - despite willing himself to be stronger or at least act like he is. The fact she's just quiet says so much to him. She's not attached to this like he is, and she's stronger for being able to put that distance between them.

It's just...weird to look at all of this and know it's her own blood, that she died right here. It's not going to affect her any more than that--and she's going to pretend she isn't totally in denial about that, quickly answering, "It's fine. Let's just get to it."

But when she steps forward, she doesn't let go of his hand.

She doesn't move a bit...

He squeezes her hand gently and walks her into the hallway, towards the bathroom, and speaks just as quickly.

"No, I'll hire someone... Just get cleaned up first."

"I can deal with it," she's just going to insist. She said she would... She's not just going to back out. "It...doesn't bother me..."

And she knows that was the worst lie ever.

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