comes and goes

She’d killed him.

For a moment, when the werewolf girl had grabbed for the livewires and thrust them against his chest, he’d thought maybe he still had a chance of rolling back to his feet and throttling the life out of the little bitch if he needed to, but she’d killed him.

A single breath later he was standing above himself on the sidewalk, watching smoke rise up off of him like a burned rasher of bacon, watching the girl, Jeze, recoil. She hadn’t stuck around, of course not. She’d bolted from the dead body and he’d … stayed put. Hands in his pockets, tongue worming its way around his teeth as the reaper came and went. Sent away with a wink and a promise he knew what he was doing. Of course he did. He hadn’t known it was gonna be the easy kill that would do it to him but he’d figured it would happened eventually, either by the pack’s hand or by some asshole he was sacrificing for his own good. He wasn’t leaving a good looking corpse behind for now though.

In that puddle of darkness the fried street light had caused, Grey bent, studied the charred remained of himself. What was it they called people like that on TV shows? Crispy critters? He couldn’t smell himself at least, the stench of barbecue had to be strong in the air. He dragged his coat, tighter around himself as he glanced both ways down the street. How long was this meant to take? If he stayed out here much longer someone was bound to spot him and sitting up in the morgue after you’d been fried by about 50,000 volts of electricity was a hell of a lot harder to explain than just strolling through the streets stinking of smoke.

If he could touch, he could’ve been able to tell if the resurrection bag sewn beneath the skin of his shoulder was intact. When he’d had them implanted he hadn’t bet on having live wires thrust against his skin. He’d always figured he’d go out with his neck torn out or his chest ripped open. Bloody not cooked.

Grey clucked his tongue, dropping lower to try and peer under the blackened edge of his jacket. The light had caught his eye then. The flash, bright and gone like lightning in the distance. He straightened up, watched as a woman stared down at something hanging around her neck and then turned towards him.

Fuck. ”Oh come on you son of a bitch, wake the hell up.” Grey snarled at himself, wanting to give himself a shake but his fingers ghosted right through his own skin.

She was running in then, the camera bouncing around her throat as she whimpered to herself. Grey lifted his hands, covered the lower half of his face as he laughed. ”Too late for that honey,” he drawled. She held her hands over him then, like somehow she was going to perform reiki or CPR from a distance.

No.

He felt a jolt in his chest. Frowned as he lifted a hand to press to his shoulder.

Then he was sucking in a breath, blue eyes shooting open as air wheezed into his lungs. One blackened hand shot up and closed around the woman’s wrist. He sat up like something out of the Night of the Living Dead, groaning. ”What in … the hell …” he panted. Grey swayed, looking up at the darkened street light overhead and then squinted at the woman. Killed by one, almost rescued by another. It was fucking hilarious.

Tagged: DESTINY BACCARI * Word Count: 600

Breath sawing in and out of his lungs as he thrust a hand out and grasped the girl’s wrist. Delicate bones under blackened fingertips, ribs creaking against the damage the wires had done to him, like brittle old leather bellows, struggling to suck in air. Grey stayed there a moment, eye lids flickering as he stared up at the dark patch of sky overhead, visible now that the light that had once drowned it out was shattered. Glass probably glittered on the ground all around them but he wasn’t feeling a damn thing yet, thanks to his little bit of forward thinking.

If he could’ve drawn in the breath he would’ve laughed but everything was still moving sluggishly. The bag had brought him back but it was going to take time for damage this severe to heal. Time that he didn’t have to spend sitting around out here. One person had already found him, who knew how long it would take for that to become two, four, a dozen as Mystic Falls’ finest poured onto this quiet little street like he was a cat up a tree and the news cameras were already on them lamenting poor Fluffy’s plight. It was bad enough he had a good Samaritan rushing to try and save his plight.

Grey squinted at her as he sat up, his blue eyes narrowing and fixing on hers. They were huge, staring at him while he held her in place. Her other hand dropped away from his stomach, where she’d been feeling around before he’d come to, settling on his thigh in a way that had one brow rising. He finally found his voice, it creaked out, those bellows working again to pant words at her. Not that they got much of an answer. ”Hi,” he breathed back slowly, squinting at the girl. Her hand was on the move again, darting from his thigh to his shirt, bunching up the charred fabric to stop him swaying away from her. His other hand rose, hovering in front of hers on his chest for a moment before he gripped her upper arm gently.

They had to move, the both of them. Grey started to look around, his breathing slowly easing, although the wheeze remained. His little sacrifices guaranteed this would heal cleanly but it was time. It was always time. She’d said heal though. Squeezing lightly, Grey looked back at her, his gaze drifting from her eyes to the elfin point of her chin, to her mouth and back up to her eyes like he was categorising her by details alone. ”You were doing something…” he muttered, a slight edge of accusation in his voice. He inched back, swaying in her grasp again as he stared down at the ruin of her chest. ”Darach.” The single word was a whisper without venom. It wasn’t a matter of taking one to know one but he’d seen in that momentary rush back into his body and he knew. Shaking his head, half nodding, Grey fumbled his way through an answer before the wheezing laugh cracked through.

The laugh panted out, clean channels cutting through the soot on his face as a cough sent tears rolling from his eyes. Grey shook his head, trying to wheeze air back. ”I’m not gonna deny a little Florence Nightingale-ing love,” he promised. Another cough shook him before him he shook his head. It took a couple of laboured breaths but then he was tugging lightly at her, bending his legs to try and level himself up. ”Give us a hand up. I’m gonna need help getting out of here. Maybe a little more, if you’re up for it. That was … more than I expected.” He was probably gonna drag her down. She had a pin-up body, from what he could see of it in the winter gear that seemed to swaddle everyone around here but she was a tiny thing. The thought elfin came to mind again, one of the little brownies his dad had raged about when he’d gotten too close to the bottom of the bottle. Fucking druids and their connection to everything out there.

Tagged: DESTINY BACCARI * Word Count: 693

It was too dark to see much. Features shadowed, vision still faintly blurred by the jolt he’d taken but Grey saw her smile widen as he found his voice. Not anxious, not like the smile that had been forced on the wolflet’s face before she’d realised he wasn’t what he’d seemed and had freaked out. This was genuine, pretty. Not what he’d expected to be met with when someone finally did what the pack had been trying to for years. It wasn’t his former Alpha he was looking up at or any of the wolves he’d sent after him … no … this was a thousand times better.

His fingers closed around her arm, almost meeting where the pulse would’ve beat on the tender underside. The world continued to slip-slide sideways every few seconds, his body adjusting to being back, fighting to start to heal the damage the current had done to fragile flesh. Thoughts were like fish, slippery through his fingers, not that his dad had ever taken him down to the river that ran through the village to do anything like that, running away, flitting in what light there was until, as his gaze raked up to meet her eyes again, he closed on it. Darach. When he’d come to she’d been using what power she had to try and heal him. Not CPR, not in the usual way. More. She didn’t part those full lips to confirm for him, just brought up a hand to finger gun and cluck at him. Grey grinned, the laugh that followed leaving him feeling like something was cracking open instead of him.

In an instant the humour that had been on her face was gone, melting as he looked at her through tear filled eyes. Grey sucked in a breath, his body fighting it with a jolt for a moment this time. Charred muscles and flesh fought the expansion of his ribs, had his body shuddering until she was drawing the hand he was still gripping up to his cheek. His hand slid down her arm slightly, her fingers curling under his jaw as she wiped the tears away with her thumb. Breathing easing, he watched her brow furrowed, waited until he could get words out before he asked her to help him up.

Maybe he should’ve given her a little more notice before he tried to lever himself up. She was yelping, tumbling into him with her cameras and her weight pressing down on him. There was the pain. Grey made a low sound as it rolled through him, more tears squeezing out as he squirmed back. A tight breath and she was whimpering down at him. ”It’s…” he managed, sucking in a breath as she eased herself back, ”…my … fault. Little … thing like … you … too much …” He coughed quietly, braced himself as she levered him up. It was easier upright, even if the world spun faster. Gripping her shoulders he swayed on his feet, looking around like the wolflet was just gonna be waiting there in the shadows instead of long gone.

The brunette slipping her arm around him drew him back. Grey blinked blearily down at her, the tears stopping now breathing was easier, his view of her clearer. He slid his arm around her shoulders, leaning into her as he gave another coughing laugh. ”You’re assumin’ right. I woulda got you to drag me back to my place but … yours is probably better. Closer.” He took halting steps, his legs limp noodles in bloodied jeans, maybe a little too much weight on her as he tried to keep himself upright. ”You didn’t do any damage did you, love?” Grey lifted his chin, his other hand reaching out to brush sooty fingertips over the camera dangling against her chest. Overbalanced, he tumbled into her before catching himself. This wasn’t time to start playing bare your soul but that thing had nearly buried itself in a lung.

Tagged: DESTINY BACCARI * Word Count: 664

She might’ve been a delicate little thing, all rose petal blushing and a Tinkerbell body, but there was strength in this one. It took it not to start shrieking at the sight of a charred body spread eagled on the sidewalk. It took one to try and bring him back without heart thundering panic, one to keep him upright too. Although, he did wonder if they’d both be swaying like a pair of old drunks staggering home from the pub at the end of the night, the only thing keeping either one of them upright the other careening into them. Grey turned his head slightly, throwing more of a lean into his walk with it for a moment, to squint back at the pool of darkness where he’d destroyed the light. Moonlight glittering in the shattered glass on the sidewalk, sooty smudges on that grey concrete, black cables like dead snakes. All that power had burned into him, would’ve left well beyond Tinkerbell’s power to try and bring him back – CPR or darach powers be buggered.

He looked back, swaying as the world swirled around him for a moment, grey mist closing in on his vision as his body fought the added stressor. Grey stagged a step, sucked in a breath that seemed to have that mist breaking up like clouds with the sun boiling over. Blue eyes narrowed faintly, fixed on her face as she whimpered, trying to prop him up. He drew himself up, trying to take the pressure off of her as he raised his chin to indicate the camera hanging around her neck. It had swung when she’d toppled into him, pressed against his chest with her on the other side of it. There was probably worse than soot on it from that but he brushed his fingers over the barrel of the lens again anyway, trying to brush what he’d left on it now away. ”Grey,” he muttered, his eyes lifting to hers, warming as he smiled at her, teeth still white in that sooty face. ”I dunno, I think there’s plenty who’d say different … Destiny.” The name was maybe even better than Tinkerbell. Destiny, right there in the path of a man trying to buck it.

Practically enough to send him into paroxysms of laughter. His chest heaved, he wheezed for a moment, then managed to get his feet back under him again. Just about.

By the time they got to her building his chest was working like bellows again, muscles beneath charred skin fluttering with the exertion. Had to be worse for her, crushed by his weight bit by bit as the strength in his legs continued to wain. Grey dragged in a breath through lips tinged blue, looking down at her, then back up the building looming. God it better be hers. Swallowing, he shook his head, eyes flitting up the windows as though picking out hers. ”No … allergies. N-never had … one though …” It wasn’t like home was any place for an animal, although he’d tried, sneaking in a stray one winter when he’d been about seven. The thing had been cowering out in the garden one night, shivering against the cold, ribs poking through its fur. A single night was all it had lasted before his dad had found it and turned it back out. The dog hadn’t come back, probably pushed from the area by his dad in a way, their connection with animals just as easy to turn sour.

Grey tried to push the memory from his mind as they wobbled in through the door. His shoulder brushed the wall next to the door, his hand reaching out to brush along it until she wedged them into the elevator. Fingertips pressed the cool metal wall, his head hanging as he tried to concentrate on staying upright. ”’s ‘preciated,” he managed hoarsely. He was tiring, the hex bag and the healing abilities he’d enhanced with the death of three wolves in New York taking everything out of him to try and start healing the burns that had charred bone deep in the volcanic spots where the tips of those wires had connected.

Swaying heavy in the hallway, his eyelids drooping low until the door swung open and they were stepping in. The dog whined, tail wagging a rapid beat as he dragged his head up to see the dog in the cage in the corner. Excited to see his mistress home, probably just a little miffed that she didn’t go right over to let him out. Sorry bub he thought as Tinkerbell deposited him onto the couch. A gentle ease down, although it felt like a mile high drop as he landed bonelessly back. His eyes fluttered as he rested his head against the corner of the back of the couch, rolling it slightly to watch her set the camera down. It was easier breathing now he wasn’t forced to keep himself upright.

The breath that glided in with barely a whistle now huffed out in something that was faintly amused as she smiled sheepishly at him, reaching for a bottle of water on the table. Grey planted his elbows in the softness of the cushions, adjusted him slightly before he raised a hand to gesture her and the bottle in. ”Come closer,” he rasped. ”The bag’s done it’s job but t-these are g-gonna take a while … without … help. You d-done it b-before?” Those blue eyes were electric slits as she moved in, that hand rising to curl around the wrist of the hand holding the bottle again, fixing on her face as tugged her in. She’d tried to heal him in the street, enough of a jolt there to bolster what the resurrection bag had done. The power was in, if she knew how to tap it, to distribute it like pixie dust.

Forget Florence Nightingale. This one really was a fairy godmother.

Tagged: DESTINY BACCARI * Word Count: 990

Had she joked about him being cooked? Oh, she had. The giggle that rolled out should’ve been a warning but it wasn’t until she wiggled her fingers up at him that it entirely hit and he snorted. It had him huffing out another breath, sucking air in with his sides shuddering with the effort. ”Glad you … approve …” he managed with a grin. His face creased with it, pale lines appearing and disappearing with the expression. His fingers curled around her camera lens for just a moment, his body still heaving with the effort to breathe like a race horse who’d been ridden hard and put away charred. Blue eyes fixed on hers, his smile brightening just a little more. ”I’d agree,” he rasped. ”I dunno … this is Mystic Falls … might be daily instead.” The barbecuing at least, bodies dropped here like flies but … she’d softened the blow, seeing a handsome face beneath the soot. In an hour or two that would’ve been all that was left of what had happened, if he hadn’t staggered back home to scald it off in the shower, cursing the wolflet the entire time.

This was better in a way, even if his legs felt like rubber by the time he collapsed on her couch and she’d probably ended up half crushed by his weight towards the end of their little trip.

Grey rolled his head against the couch, probably ruining it as he lay sprawled on it. If the soot came out the smell of charred flesh probably wouldn’t do. He could taste it on his tongue, a twisted barbecue flavour he was glad to wash away. She shifted on the cushion next to him, clinging to the water for him as she leaned in. He drank thirstily, gulping as much as she’d let him, sucking breaths in through his nose. Her hand was on his jaw, fingertips gentle, her eyes on his mouth as he drank, his on her, unashamedly studying Tinkerbell’s face until she registered his question. Licking his lips, he drew back for a second, drawing a deeper breath that he huffed out through his nose. ”My little back up for when it … got too bad to d-do that to m-myself…” The hand that wasn’t wrapped her wrist snaked up between them, fingers fumbling back the edge of his jacket before gesturing to the still charred skin of his shoulder. ”Little gift from a witch. A resurrection bag. You go down, it brings you back.” A magical internal defib he guessed.

The thought of it had him snorting as he lifted his head a little, gulping back as much as he could before he stopped again. Letting go of her wrist, he dropped back against the couch, still watching every move as she set the bottle and cap down on the table. He lifted one hand, swiped the back of it over his mouth as she turned back, rubbing his hands together like he was about to get a massage. Grey pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his eyelids drifting shut as she moved her palms towards him. A warmth, a gasp as sensation rushed through him and then his back was arching. Skin beneath charred fabric knitting back together, pale replacing the black, the deeper burns thread with new muscle tissue in a rush before they too were being swept over by the fresh skin. He scrabbled at the couch cushions with his hands for a moment, waiting for his body to settle again before he tried to draw easier breaths.

They came smoothly this time, muscles no longer protesting in the same way. The crackle far enough gone that all he could hear was her excitement as she pressed her hands a little harder again his chest. He shifted, the cushions rolling gently beneath him as he brought a hand up to replace one of the ones she had on his chest. ”’most good as new,” he promised. He reached up with it, gripping her forearm lightly to rub an equally sooty thumb over her wrist. ”’s a hell of a talent, Destiny.” His eyes rose to hers, his thumb pressing lightly into the pulse he could feel in her wrist. ”I can do,” he murmured, giving her hand a little tug towards him, that innocence a fae lure. ”Could definitely do with a hand into the bathroom at least. Not sure if my legs’ve caught up with the rest of me. Might need a hand getting these off too. If you’re prepared to keep nursing a bit longer?” He was pretty sure she’d be amenable, for generosity’s sake if nothing else. All innocent and wide eyed, he wasn’t sure how deeply she was aware of everything else. Grey eased himself forward, glad he wasn’t panting with the effort this time, his thigh brushing he knee as he worked himself to the edge of the couch and levered himself up.

Draping his arm back around her shoulders, glancing at the dog in the crate, he let her help him work his way towards her bathroom. He wasn't crushing her this time, his footing steady until they reached the bathroom. Grey watched her as he sank back against the wall. Fingers slid off of her, down to fold into the front of his jacket, he peeled it off, grunting only faintly at the lingering stiffness in his flesh. The charred shreds that had been the t-shirt beneath fell away easier, drifting almost feather light to the floor before he hooked fingers in the waist bands of his jeans. "You gonna help wash my back, Destiny?" There was almost a dare there in the blue eyes that peered through his lashes at her. How far was Tinkerbell willing to go before she balked? How far could he push her to go was probably the better question.

Tagged: DESTINY BACCARI * Word Count: 970

She hadn’t seemed too phased about the fact that he really had been dead, albeit for just the couple of minutes it had taken for the resurrection bag sewn into his chest to kick in. He hadn’t thought she was earlier but then she’d practically been cheering him of for having the foresight to do it while she’d been leaning in, helping him sip water from the bottle. Interesting. He’d studied her while he’d swallowed the cool water down, blue eyes taking in the blush rising hot in her cheeks. A little bashful maybe but there’d been confidence there as she’d stripped off her jacket and used those delicate hands to heal him.

The flush hadn’t disappeared though, had it? She’d made that little sound as he’d agreed to the offer of a shower, wrung out of her and hitting him straight in the pit of his stomach. He’d felt the warmth of her hand on his chest, fingers curled on muscles that were firm again instead of bloody char. Grey smiled slowly, cupid’s bow lips curling as she caught on to what he’d been suggesting. That colour had rose again as she’d mutely nodded at him and let out that little whisper.

How far did it go? He pondered it as they got up, a little more steadily this time. Her arm back around his waist, his own draped over her shoulders with far less weight his time. Those delicate fingers, already smudged with soot, curling around his wrist as she pressed in next to him. A little bitty thing but curved just right to fit up against his hip. Blue eyes ticked around her place as they made their way towards the bathroom, taking in the little details of a life that built no matter how sterile and impersonal you tried to keep your place. She nudged open the bathroom door, the place smelling just like her, a sweetness in the air that reminded him of that fae air she gave off again.

He could at least hold himself up now but Grey slumped back against the cool tile as they reached the bathroom. Hands dropping to what remained of his jacket as he watched her grab a band from her wrist and tie that tumble of brunette hair back from that elfin face. She disappeared from view for a moment as he peeled his jacket off over his head, caught those big eyes staring at him as he re-emerged and began to peel what was left of his t-shirt away. Not that there was much to it, the wolflet had done a number on clothing and flesh alike as she’d used his own trick to electrocute him. God help the poor bastard who tried to go for her next.

And God help him too. Florence Nightingale syndrome indeed. It was no wonder so many fell for their nurses when there was that need to show gratitude to the one patching you up. Well, a sort of need anyway. Grey offered up a little mutual aid as he’d curled his fingers into his jeans. She took it too. He grinned lazily, his head tipping back to thud lightly against the cool tile as he stared down at her through his lashes. ”Nurse Ratched and I’ve got the feeling you’re not her, Destiny.” His teeth raked over his lower lip, tongue tracing it in their wake as he let go.

She didn’t touch him yet. Just got close enough to have him swaying faintly on his feet like he was caught in her gravitational pull as she reached past him to flip the shower on. Grey kept his eyes on her face rather than on the tumble of water that started up beside him. His thumb brushed the button of his jeans, ready to flip them open but then hers were bracketing his, fingers slipping between his skin and the denim. The backs of them on his skin, hotter than they had been, brushing just enough to have that heat pooling low. ”Wouldn’t expect anything less given your obvious nursing talents so far,” he rumbled hoarsely. His stomach muscles twitched as she popped the button on his jeans, shuddered again as she pressed her hips against his. Not working on his jeans anymore, she was exploring instead, drawing a grin out of him. She definitely wasn’t missing much.

He straightened up slightly, his own hands reaching for her, cupping those hips before he slid them up. Soot blackened fingers curling into the hem of her top and lifting. ”Very thorough already,” he murmured. ”Guessing I should return the favour considering you’ve taken such good care of me so far. Got lots of gratitude going on. Lift your arms.” His fingers skimmed the top up over her head, knuckles grazing her ribs, tracing the curve of her chest before he drew it over her head. Carefully he toed at his boots, nudged them aside on the floor before he tried to toe his socks off too. A gentle toss and her top joined them. A tangled pile of burned clothes and everything he’d left those sooty handprints all over.

Tagged: DESTINY BACCARI * Word Count: 859

Limits had always defined his life when he was younger. What you told the teachers at school about the strange stuff at home, what was mentioned outside of the pack, what you couldn’t do with the power that was sure to come. Lessons etched in cutting tones and alcohol laced breath. Don’t, don’t, don’t. It wasn’t until his sister had cut away the last of the ties holding him back that he’d realised that there was freedom without the rules. It wasn’t don’t now, it was do what he needed, do what he wanted and right now, Grey thought as he felt her slip her fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

The proper way to thank her for rushing in to try and give a crispy critter CPR and save him was probably flowers or a fruit basket. Some polite crap that didn’t balance the scales in any way. This was more his speed, although it seemed he was about to get as much out of the after care as her, possibly far, far more. Grey breathed slowly, feeling his stomach press a little harder against the backs of her finger with each inhalation until she popped the button of his jeans and released the pressure of the denim against his skin. Hands trailed then, mapping skin that was darkened with soot but solid again. No sign of the burns that had cooked him down to the bone, thanks to those hands.

All the remaining signs of the failed attempt on the wolflet’s life would be washed away in the shower, a black rain pattering on the tile. A new man stepping out afterwards, another set of limits cast away by his resurrection, brushed off by this woman. Grey reached for her, fingers finding the lush curve of her hips to draw her in, fingers trailing higher to draw her top off over her head and toss it aside. She pushed in harder against him, a satisfied little noise grunting through him at the feel of her against him. Full lips pursed, curved with pride and something even more satisfied as she challenged him.

Dark brows rose, blue eyes filling with innocence as he let them rise to the shower. Steam began to mist the air, warm enough to make sure that any shiver that rolled through her was going to be all him. ”I’m a man who likes to make sure all his debts are paid and the way I see it, Destiny, I’ve got a lot to thank you for.” Especially since the gifts were still coming. The blue eyes that had been soft before heated now, dropping to take in the ivory skin she’d revealed. His hands came up, palms skimming, stilling as she unzipped his jeans and in a smooth move took both his jeans and underwear down.

God, if he wasn’t dead before she was going to kill him now, just with that smile. Destiny rose, her hands still smearing the soot over his skin, the dark smears transferring to her as she wriggled out of what was left of her own clothing. ”’s the first favour I’m gonna return,” he promised. He let his hands fall away from her as she stepped back from him, crowding herself into a corner of the stall, leaving the majority of the space for him.

Grey chuckled as he saw her reach for the soap, lathering it up between her hands as he watched. She was gonna be true to her word and make sure he was squeaky clean in the end, all the better not to ruin the sheets when he came through on his promise to pay this debt back all night. He felt the water patter warm on his skin as he trailed her, stalking into that space. ”Hold on tight,” he growled softly. The water was already starting to sluice rivulets of grey water from his skin. Grey ducked his head under the water, closing his eyes as he sluiced his hands over his face to clean the worst of it. Then he was blindly finding Destiny’s hands, closing his fingers around her wrists to draw her hands up to his hair.

Tagged: DESTINY BACCARI * Word Count: 796