He was going to kill her.
That's what he'd said he brought her into his bunker for; to use her as something to sate his blood lust. Even as he explained himself and the violent cravings brought on by his werewolf blood, he couldn't help but look like going through with this was the very last thing he wanted to do. Rosie sat next to him on the floor, listening quietly and coming sadly to grips with the reality of the situation. These last few days had been a mental and emotional roller coaster. Meeting Vince in the pool hall and going home with him had been wonderful. Having had her feet cut, being forced to wet herself and then being raped against the radiator still had her body throbbing in protest. The wounds from removing the handcuffs, the bruise from where he'd punched her in the face, the knife wounds from fighting Farz. A myriad of damage he'd left was still visible on her body. Still, in between all of that there had been much nicer moments, and talking with him now she got the impression he'd rather not be so unstoppably furious and dangerous. If she was going to die anyway, she just couldn't justify doing so with a halfhearted grudge. Truth be told, it was hard for her to be angry at someone when she felt bad for them.
"It's okay, Vince. I forgive you." And she meant it too. He hadn't looked happy to hear it, which honestly made sense. It would be easier to kill someone that hated his guts. As he tried to leave, she followed after him, not wanting to leave him alone or be alone. He lamented his inability to protect those close to him and she felt a pang of guilt ring loudly in her heart. He was talking about Farz, clearly, who must have been pretty important to him. She thought for a moment to point out that Farz had clearly wanted to kill her out of jealously and had chosen to put his life on the line willingly. She said no such thing, however, as that wasn't at all what he needed to hear. When she reached out to touch him he nearly backhanded her in response. To scare her away? To make her hate him? At this point?
He cupped her cheek; looking like he was going to break at any second. She leaned into his touch, covering his hand with hers. He got onto his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and she felt nothing but gentle affection as he buried his face into her stomach. With how roughly he'd been handling her so far...A touch like this was almost overwhelmingly sweet. She played lightly with his hair, enjoying the way his ears twitched when she ran her fingers over them.
"Stop..." She could feel a bit of wetness against the fabric of her shirt and though she couldn't see his face she could tell that he was crying. "Stop being nice to me. I don't deserve it." With a soft huff she gently pushed him away from her just enough so that she could get on her knees as well. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. God, he was so warm...
"You do. I'm not the one that's being broken here. You've been through a lot, Vince." She nuzzled her face against him as he pulled her carefully into his arms. Though he was being careful to not hurt her, she didn't miss how firm his hold was. As if the second he let go she would be gone forever. "You don't have to be so hard on yourself." The words 'let me be a shoulder to lean on' died on her lips, since it would be offering him a promise she couldn't exactly keep if she was dead. She kissed his cheek as he muttered a response to her words. He pulled away a bit to look down at her. She smiled at him and met him halfway for a kiss. It would have been a bittersweet way to die, honestly, looking up at his serene expression just before everything went to hell. She'd never get to know exactly how being torn apart would feel like, as the next several seconds of her life included reality catching up to Vince all at once.
He jumped up, worried about the time and her heart began to race as he made short work of cleaning out his gun cabinet by tossing all of the racks onto the floor. He offered no explanation to her as he grabbed her roughly and shoved her into the cabinet. The door slammed with a loud bang as she wavered on her feet a bit. Catching her breath, she slipped her fingers through the grate and asked him what was going on. He was saving her, he said, and she felt for a moment like she could cry from happiness. She watched as his skin began to grow dark fur and his nails grew into deadly looking claws. His words came out as growls.
"You're the only one...You're the only one worth saving. I love you." She beamed at him, eyes filling with tears as she reached out to touch his hand. "BACK UP!" He ordered, banging his hands against the grate. She ignored him, wanting to touch him and she paid for it when he scratched her arm on instinct. Lesson learned, she backed up to the edge of the cabinet and watched the rest of his transformation.
She was stuck in that cabinet for hours. Vince tried more than once to get to her, howling in rage when he was unable to break into her shelter. The place on her arm where he'd scratched her was starting to burn. It felt like uncomfortably hot and thick liquid was forcing it's way from the scratch into every nook and cranny of her body.
”! Ah!” It wrapped itself around her bones, seeping deep inside until it became one with them. It warmed her organs. It mixed dominantly with her blood and filled her mind with a vertigo the likes of which she'd never experienced before. She collapsed to the floor of the cabinet and panted heavily; sweat soaking into her shirt. She was running a fever so high a doctor would consider her at death's door.
And with that terrifying thought, Rosemary Grayson promptly passed away.
When she woke up she was standing calve deep in a shallow white river. Aside from the gentle pull and push of the water, there was nothing. No shore, no visible edge. Barely any discernible sound or smell. The fever had stopped. The pain in her body had stopped too. As she wandered around the endless river, she took solace in the absolute nothing going on around her. She felt like she was meditating, like there was nothing here but her peace of mind. Internally, she could just about feel the river itself encouraging her to relax and lie down on its surface. Honestly? It sounded like a wonderful idea. Just drifting on and on, letting the waves take her wherever they pleased. As she was about to lie down, she felt a strange sensation around her calves. Looking down, she shrieked when she saw the water around her start bubbling and boiling rapidly. The water burned her skin as she stood there. She tried to move away but something grabbed her ankles and held her firmly in place. Clawed hands surfaced from the water; clawing and scratching their way up her body until they found purchase around her throat, her shoulders, her wrists, and her waist. They forced her down onto her knees and then backward, back under the surface of the water despite her struggles. For a moment, she thought she saw a very confused looking man with wings hovering above her as she drowned.
She woke up with an audible gasp sometime before sunrise. Vincent lie in a heap on the floor, panting and exhausted from his own fury. Rosie rested her head against the wall of the cabinet and caught her breath. Jesus...What an intense dream...
When Vince was back to normal, he let her out of the cabinet and helped her onto her feet. They walked out of the bunker hand in hand, all the while Rosie wondered about his surprised reaction to finding out he'd scratched her. Was she...? Was she going to turn into a wolf like him? He let her use the shower first and ordered food for them to munch on in lieu of having something more substantial in his fridge at the moment. After eating they passed out in his bed. Around one or so she gently pointed out that she should most definitely go to the hospital to be looked over and one motorcycle ride later, he'd dropped her off. Riding back home, Vincent had a lot to think about.
Vince sat down on his couch and mulled over the last few days. Farz was gone. No matter what Rosie said there was no way he couldn't blame himself for what had gone down in the bunker. Though he didn't really want to admit it, he was honestly already starting to wonder if it was a mistake letting her talk him into not coming into the hospital with her. She'd been worried about one of the nurses taking a look at him and assuming (correctly) that he was the cause of her damage. She didn't want him to get in trouble, she'd said...And so here he sat and waited. A cruel thought nagged at him about how now that she was away from him she was more than likely going to run off, far out of the city where he couldn't hurt her again. As the hours passed, Vince fell into a restless sleep, waking up in the later afternoon. He fished for his phone in his pocket and noted a distinct lack of any messages.
Veni was likely to check on him in a day or two, he'd see Lawrence at work, and Farz was dead.
What about Rosie though? She had his number, she'd asked for it before they headed out. He absolutely hated getting himself worked up. With no one around to snap him out of his thoughts, however, what could he do BUT overthink things? In the end he decided to go to the gym and work out and ideally burn off the residual energy.
