Full Moon (Jeremiah)

[bix]

Terror
&& Bruises

They were out. Her mother. And her brothers. Bix. Had not. Been feeling well. And opted. To stay home. It was the full moon. The night. Were Bix. Would sacrifice. Something. Or at least. Offer. Some of her own blood. To the Goddess. And her powers. That she bestowed. Upon the young. Witch. Still though. It was not yet time. The moon. Need be. At it's apex. And so. Surrounded by black candles. Lit softly. Creating candlelight. As well as a soft. Glow to read by. Bix lay. On her bed. In the center. Of her very packed room. Filled with. Bookcases. A work table. Lore. Posters. A large bed. And much else. That filled the room. Her arms. Were around. A purple stuffed cat. Her chin. On top. Of Vinchento's head. He was. Her only friend. In the world. Her familiar. Of sorts.

The door. Downstairs in the home. Closed. But Bix knew. It was not. her mother. But it was too early. to be her father. He was. To still be away. On business. But the telltale. Heavy tread. Up the stairs. Towards the upper floor. Told her. It was indeed. Her father. Quickly. She twisted her body. And tossed the ruby crystal. Around her neck. It was said. To guard. From ill will. And she had bought it. With her own money. This time. HOping that. It would work. The door opened. And her father's large. Looming body. Stepped in. She could already. See the anger on his face. And she could tell. That he was as pissed. As always. She bit. Her lower lip.

"Where is your mother?"

"Gone, she is." Bix answered.

"I thought we discussed none of this witchcraft shit in this fucking house!" he roared.

Bix didn't flinch but Liberty knew what was going to happen. He slammed the door closed and some of the candles went out. A bad omen. Her father. Soared. Across the room quickly. And picked. HIs daughter up. And tossed her across the room. So that she landed right against. Her book shelf. Her collectables. Artifacts. And other things crashed. And shattered to the floor. His hand grabbed Vinchento. And he tossed the little cat. to the floor. Only after. Ripping part of it open. So the stuffing. Came out.

"NOOOOO!" she screamed. Blood murder, in her voice. As she tried. Desperatly to get. To the fallen. Stuffed animal.

"You scream for your animal but not for yourself. You make me sick. Your mother is gone, but that doesn't mean I cannot do as I wish anyway. She would only stand there and watch. She hates you for making her home a living hell. This is all your fault. You know that."

Bix shook. As she grabbed up. Her precious Vinchento. And her father. Slammed his foot on her stomach. She fell to the ground. And he reached down. Finding the charm. The crystal. Around her neck. And a sick grin. Came from his mouth. As he ripped it. From her neck. And stabbed it. Right into her chest. Right under the collar bone. Bix screamed in pain. Liberty was sobbing. But Bix refused. To cry. However in her mind. She was screaming. Screaming for help. Begging for someone. To assist her. The blood. Leaked from the wound. And thus. Began. The brutal beating. her face. Her body. She felt things. Crack. And she felt things hurt. And she felt. Her body. Growing more. And more sore. By the second. He gave her a small break. Only to take. All the glass jars. From her desk. And throw them. right at her. Having them break. On and around her. Mixing all her ingrediants.

Bix began to chant

"Oh obsidian goddess. Thou that watches, over this humane soul. Mundane am I. Beseech to you, the power I need, to "

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID GIRL!"

Her father roared. As he descended. Upon her again. With is fists.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

The home of a woman beater- large, two story. A girl inside, screaming for help and knowing that none was forthcoming. So many times she had been beaten, he knew that by her own thoughts she tried to keep hidden. So many bones and cuts broken. A engine roared as dirt and grass was kicked up across the mans yard, the back tire of a motorcycle leaving deep treads and tracks. He tucked his weight down lower, bending so his body was mostly covered by the handlbars. His glasses, black and deep, placed ove rhis eyes. A silky black leather jacket shining stunningly over his frame. He slammed on the gas- not that it was needed, he was already doing nearly eighty miles an hour. A death trap for most.

SMASH

The lower room window caved in under the weight and power and speed that it was hit with, the entire wall coming out, Jeremiah was nearly thrown from the bike, instead using the time to slide the bike to his side as he went to the ground, rolling a few feet before coming to his feet. His bike went onward, smashing through the television and spinning off into the fridge. He brushed off his shoulders, then made his way to the stairs, speeding up them with all the power and speed he could muster, anger and determiination mixing like the east and west winds to form a storm of fury and vengenace.

'Master'

-15 minutes earlier-

Jeremiah awoke under the shade of a large tree, a cold sweat over his frame. He leaned forward, gasping as a scream tore through his mind. He scooped his coat off the ground, throwing it around his shoulders and jumping on his bike. He flew the around the corners as he left the city park, moving at a breakneck pace to the destination that spoke to him. He knew where it was- he had taken her home before. One hundred miles per hour was long behind him. He couldnt move fast enough. He braked hard once he reached the street, stopping in front of the house and looking up at the room he knew he to be in.

Through the window he saw him, throwing things at the floor, yelling, screaming, beating her. His jaw clenched, his eyes drew into that evil look he was want to give, his whole body shuddering as the mentality of his inner spirit took over. A evil grin, such as hadnt been seen in the open for years, came across him, the glasses that were in his front pocket being placed over his face as he slammed back on the handle-bar, popping a wheelie into the front law of his soon-to-be victim.

-Present-

Jeremiah looked up as the shadow of a m as large as him, filled the doorway.

"What the FUCK! MY HOUSE!" the man yelled, balling his hands into fists. "Oh, your gonna DIE!" He screamed.

"You first."

JEremiah ran upwards, grabbing the man around the waist and yelling as he ran him clean through the wall and out the side of his house, falling two stories before they landed with a crunch, the back of the brute broken like a twig beneath the weight of his attacker. Jeremiah didnt stop there, however. His fists worked on their own. He punched and punched, brutalizing the limp body under him. He stuck his hand in the mans mouth, grabbing his jaw and ripping it off in a disgusting show of strength and brutality, the tongue hanging there as the man bled, too weak to ever make a noise. He brought his knuckles down on the mans nose, breaking it in two places. He would kill him. What Jeremiah had done so far he might live from.

But by the time he was finished, there would be a tough time recognizing the once powerful monster who was gifted to be the father of the female he had just been breaking.

[bix]

Rescue
&& Anguish

A crash. Was felt. More than heard. Downstairs. In the kitchen. Bix's room. Was somewhat. Over the kitchen. But to her. Her mind was elsewhere. She was not. Present. Hating her father. And all that. He stood for. Too, she hated. Her mother. For hating her. Only because. Her father enjoyed. Beating on her. And making their lives. Miserable. So that when she. Was the subject. They all. Feared their father. Her brothers. Retreating. To their shared room. And her mother. Taking a stand. With her father. Against her. Bix had no place. To call home. While family, she had. Home she did not. The times. She loved the most. Were with Jeremiah. And his silent company. As well as Pine. And his smiles. And the way. That he called. To Liberty so easily.

Her father. Hearing the crash. Got up. And moved to the door. She heard his voice. IN her mind. Never. Had the word. Master. Been so comforting. Liberty's mind was in turmoil. And Bix. Was trying. Desperatly. To cling to. Consciousness. Her body hurt. And her breathing. Was harsh. The blood. She was losing. Was not. Too much. But enough. With her small body. It was beginning. To affect her. She blinked. Sofrly. And found herself. Beginning to drift. To sleep. There on the floor. Curled up. Her hands. Clinging desperatly. To Vinchento. The only one. That understood her. She tucked. His crystal. Back into. The head. With one finger. Fighting so hard. To stay awake. Hearing the sounds. Of her father. Being pummeled. downstairs.

Jeremiah... feel so good.. I do not.. losing.. grasp upon..

Bix's voice. Cut out suddenly. As the body. Closed it's eyes. And her breathing. Still deep. While she had. Been beaten often. Never had she suffered. Something like this. She was relatively good. At displacing pain. But Liberty. She was a different story. This was the reason. Bix had been. Created. Liberty fought so hard. To stay in control. Fought so hard. To stay awake. And to find. Solace. In someone. But who. Who would care. About a blue haired witch. The only reason. Jeremiah was here. Was that. He had heard. Her scream. And that he. Had a pact with her. Otherwise. He would. Have never come. Nor would he have cared. If he had seen her. At school. This bad.

~Jeremy....~ Liberty's voice. Now. ~Stop. Please.. please come.. I can't.. can't see.....~

Liberty. Had never once. Given him. An order. Never once. Used her powers. Never once. Asked anything. Of him. Except that night. When she was frightened. To sleep beside him. To find sanctuary. Within his arms. But in this time. It was not an order. So much. As a plea. She.. was slipping. Into unconsciousness. And needed help. Before she went out. Afraid. Of a possible. Concussion. Something she neither wanted. Or needed.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah heard the voice speaking into his head but didnt stop, not until the command rang clear as day. He turned and swiftly came to his feet, not regretting the fact that he had to leave this man. The cops were on the way- they would find nothing but a dead carcus. He ran up the wall, kicking with enough force to put holes in the siding, using them as steps to run clean back up to the place where he had rammed the body out. He pulled himself up quickly and smoothely, running into the open door and bending down, anger flaring again as he saw the mess of Bix. Pain seared through his body for allowing this to happen, Jeremiah reveling in the feeling he barely knew. He had a disease, one that prevented him from feeling pain through the nervous system.

To feel this...it felt great. This wasnt like the usual pain he got- dull, hard, overwhelming. this was sharper and meant to punish slowly. He bent down, scooping the weightless frame into his massive arms and looking into the face of the girl was a strange, totally-unlike-jeremy look of care. "Don't worry, i'll save you." He ran, jumping out the window shoulder first, covering her body by bending at the abs. He landed heavily on his feet, his shoes sinking deeply into the earth.

And then he ran.

Jeremiah had never run from anything in his life, and would have gladly taken credit for the bloody massacre that was currently decomposing in the front lawn, but if he was caught and taken to jail then he couldnt be near Bix, and that just wouldnt do. She was going to have to stay with him from now on- he wasnt letting her out of his sight again. He ran for blocks and blocks, miles and miles, seemingly untiring though he was heavily fatigued. He ran up the steps to his apartment, kicking the door open forcefully, the metal clanging loudly against the far wall. He walked her inside, carrying her to his bed. He lay her down, watching her eyes roll. He walked quickly to his bathroom cupboard, opening it and taking out the first aid.

"Your head is fine- no contusions or concussions, though youllhave severe bruising." He dabbed at her face with a cold cloth, cleaning the blood. "Sleep."

Once she slipped into unconsciousness, he would watch as she cried, breathing a heavy sigh. It had to be on this night, of all nights, that he had to take her. Maybe she wouldnt awake until the morning. He could only hope.

-One hour Later-

Her arms were in wraps, as was her body. Her shirt had been removed, as well as her bra. Though it would go unnoticed by him, he knew that she would probably freak, but he had to get to the cuts and bruises made there in order to prevent the bleeding. She had a broken rib, and a deeply bruised Sternum. Her upper body was wrapped in medical strip, a white material used as both a gauze and a preventing for bleeding. Her underwear, thankfully, was still on, though that was all- on her legs was the same medical wrap, the thighs and the shins. He had done full body work on her, but was quite unwilling to remove her bottoms.

He stood with his back to her, placing everything back into his medical bag. He thought for a moment to himself about what had happened, why it had happened, and what he was going to do. If she ever released him, would he still allow her to stay here? She had no place else to go...he may not have a choice. He took a deep breath.

Life was so hard sometimes...

[bix]

Rescued
&& Cared For

Bix felt arms. Lifting her up. Her eyes opened. So slowly. She was so tired. Her breathing. Was harsh. And it hurt. To breathe. To live. To be alive. She sighed softly. It was harsh. Wheezing sigh. Forcing air. In and out. Of her lungs. As her eyes. Met with his. Such.. worry. Such care. Perhaps. She was wrong before. Perhaps. She had been. Mistaken. When she thought. He was only cold. And that he. Would not care. For her at all. That she. Was nothing. But a bother. And yet. His face. Spoke volumes. And quieted. Much doubt and worry. when she considered him. And the fact. That she was around. Him so very much. He whispered to her. That he. Would save her. And a slight nod. Was his answer. As she curled herself. Against his chest. Closing her eyes.

The trip. To his place. Was rough. She bounced a lot. And bit into. HIs coat. With her teeth. In pain. Careful. Not to bite him. But it was. Necessary. For her to be able. NOt to scream out. In pain. She knew. That he was saving her. And she knew. That it would not. Be fast. To run. From her place. To his own. Vinchento. Curled in her arms. Held onto. Her life line. The one. That she needed. So desperatly. The sole connection. To her home. The one that she wanted. The one that kept her sane. And the support. She had. No where else. Vinchento. Needed to be sewn up. But she. Would have to . Do that later.

In his apartment. She felt the soft. Caress. Of the bed. They had shared once. Beneath her. As he lay her down. There. His scent. Filtered into. Her nose. Mixed with. The dry blood. Of her own body. He left her. The weight of his body. Leaving the bed. Her hand. Curled severely. Around the arm. Of the purple. Stuffed cat. In her hand. Fearful of. Letting it go. For any reason. He came back. And her eyes opened. But rolled back. In her head. As she felt. The cold cloth. On her face. Dabbing the cold water. On her skin. Taking with it. The blood. And revealing. The damage done. His tone. Was soft. And gentle. caring. And she felt. Compelled to just. Touch him. His hand, his face. Anywhere. But to move. Would cause agony.

He told her. To sleep. Her spare hand. Came up. And brushed his. Hand. That was wiping. Her face. And then. She softly. Let go of consciousness. And she fell. Asleep there. Under him. And beside him. She slept then. Through all of the rest. Through the undressing. And the bandaging. Through the cleaning. And the treating. He would find. That tears. Had leaked from. Her eyes. As she slept. Restlessly. While he cared for her.

An hour passed.

Bix's eyes. Opened slowly. She felt. Horrible. Pain. Radiated from every cell. Every pore. On her body. And yet. She would rather. This. That to be numb. He stood there. Beside her bed. His back. To her. why was it. That he always. Had his back. Turned to her. It seemed strange. And yet. She was. Growing used to it. More and more. The feeling. That he despised her. Grew in. Her chest again. And she prayed. That was not. The case.

"Jer..emy.."

Her voice.. Was broken up. Her body. Aching and throbbing. Medicane. Would be a welcome. Relief. And yet. Somehow she doubted. He had any. Her hand still. Around vinchento. That was. Unless he fixed. Her precious kitten. But he. Did not seem. The type to. Fix her stuffed animal. NOt understand. The meaning. And sentiment. Behind such. A silly thing. Her lungs rasped. As she reached. For Jeremiah. With her free hand. Knowing... well. Hoping he would come. And take her hand. Her mind. Was clouded. With pain. and yet. She needed. For once. Him. And this. Was not Bix. But Liberty. The soft girl. The one that needed. Someone. to help her. And to know. That she was not. Forsaken.

"You.. tended me.. but I didn't order it.. why.. why did you.. care for me?"

There was no. Challenge. No disgrace. No sharp tone. She was litterally. Curious. As to. What was going. Through his mind. At this moment. What he felt. What he was doing. Why he had. Cared for her. Tending her wounds.

"Thank you.. Jeremiah.. for.. saving me.. and caring.. for me.."

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah looked over his shoulder, then turned his suddenly sad eyes back to his medical bag.

"A few years ago, a very close friend of mine was killed. I could do nothing to stop it, and could do nothing to heal her." He breathed deep. "I guess seeing you like that reminded me of that day." What was he doing? He never spilled his guts like this. It was the damn weather. He should leave, he needed to leave. Close the door and leave her behind, just let her heal. No consequences, no regret later, no feelings of remorse. He could just exit and not have to talk with the battered, half naked female who now lay both fatherless and exposed to his care. He walked over, sitting himself on the edge of the bed, abruptly changing the subject, as it was probably one of the most personal things in his entire life. Hell, maybe the only personal thing.

"Besides- i cant let you die, remember? You die, i die." That statement made him feel better, like he was doing it more for himself then for her, though he cringed inside as he spoke the next part. "And...your my...uh...friend." He mumbled the last word, standing and walking toward the door. Had he meant that? Maybe- in all honesty he just wanted her to feel better and go home, so he didnt soil his reputation and relationship with her further. He cleared his throat before taking the door handle. "You should rest more, we can talk in the morning. "Chances were she wasnt tired, and he would probably be seeing more of her that night, but he knew it couldnt hurt trying. He would close the door behind him and head to the living room, unless she spoke more, which obviously made him nervous and twitchy.

WHOA!

Jeremiah, nervous? Twitchy?

What the HELL!?

[bix]

Friendship
&& Care

She sighed. Softly. As he turned. But he seemed. Not to. Really care. All that much. About whether. She was laying here. In pain or not. But then. A look. Into his eyes. Proved. Otherwise. And she could tell. That something. Was going on. In his mind. He was different. This night. And she wondered. If it had anything. to do with. What had happened. To her. Or if she had just. Finally broken. Through to him. Still though. As she looked. Up at him. He came over. To her. Telling her. That he had. Once a friend. That had died. And he had not. Been able. To save her. And that he hoped. That he would. Be able. To save Bix. Liberty looked up. At the man. He sat. On the edge of the bed. Making it shift. With his weight. Just a bit.

he said that. If she died. Then he died. Not something. That she wished for. That would create. His motivation. But it was what. He said next. That would touch her. In ways. That she had not expected. Afterall. It wasn't something. That she heard of. Often. And it wasn't something. She ever. Expected from him. She bit. Her lower lip. And she saw. Him shifting. To leave. And her hand. Reached over. And she grabbed. His arm. Tears leaking. From her blue eyes. Filled. With so many. Emotions. They leaked. Down her cheeks. And fell. Into the sheets and hair. That lay beneath her. Her breathing. Jagged. Not only from. The broken ribs. And the bruised. Body that she had. The bones. That were hurting. And things. That would take. Forever to heal. And yet. Some of it too. Was that she was. So upset.

Despite the pain. She sat up. And twisted. Her poor. Bruised and painful. Body and snuggled. Right into his body. HIs large chest. And his massive arms. Her body. Shaking and trembling. Like never before. She felt him grow stiff. And that only. Made it all worse. Even he. Even he did not. Want to be aorund her. Even he. Did not want to. Be there for her. He was only here. Because of their bond. And nothing. Not one thing. Had he done. Because he cared. Because he understood. The woman. That was within. Overwhelming despair. Came from. The girl. And she suddenly. Began to cry. Sobbing harshly. Against his shoulder. Her hand. clasping at. His shirt. Her other. Still filled with. The purple stuffed cat. which needed. So badly to be fixed. And yet. She had not yet. Been able to ask. She would though. Before she slept. But right now. She was completely. Inept. Of anything. She had no one. Was she all that strange. Was she all. That wrong? Why would no one. Care.

"What is.. so wrong with me.. why am I .. a pariah for.. for the world?"

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiahs body seemed to freeze on its own, his breathing Increasing dramatically. Why was she touching him? Especially on the hand? He didnt want her to have contact of that sort with him- even in his mellower form. Instead of relinquishing her grasp on the trash-can lid sized fingers of the last surviving Sykes, she lurched forward, clasping her arms around his body as best she could as she wept. Sweat beaded his forhead as she spoke, And jeremiah said nothing for a long time. He struggled with control of his insanity as his memories fought with his current state of being. He couldnt help but want to tear this girl from him, yet her eyes and voice told him that to do so would possibly cause her to draw away from him permanently. While to a part of him that would be perfect, another part wanted to get to know this masochistic individual just a little more.

He steeled himself, then reached up, planting his hands on her shoulders and easing her away from his warmth, looking into her eyes as he spoke.

"You need to stop blaming yourself for the worlds cruelties."

He spoke firmly, but also with a certain amount of care that was generally foriegn to his voice yet also at home. He stood, trying his best not to shake and tremble.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."

He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. They would have to go get clothes, and that was not going to be a smart thing to do since the place was bound to be swarming with cops. He went into his bedroom, shut the door and leaned against it, sliding down onto his ass before breathing heavily, wiping the sweat from his brow. He had one the battle for his mind.

This time.

[bix]

Blame
&& Choices

He did not hold. Did not comfort. Did not.. care. Everything. Became so blindingly clear. In that instant. As she cried. Her soul. Onto his shoulder. Leaving parts. Of herself. That he would never. Know had existed. Because he failed. to look past. What she was now. And what. She had. A desire. To be something. So much more. And yet. He just sat there. Not comforting. Or caring. And Bix knew. That her options here. Were limited. There was no reason. To exist. If this. Was the existance. That she was. Going to survive. This way. She sighed softly. His hands. Were on her shoulders. Moments later. His hands. Clasped her. and she felt. Him pushing her. Away. And she felt. AS though. It was not just. PHysically. But mentally. And soulfully.

Bix pulled back. And she looked. to the side. As he rose. Telling her. That she shouldn't. Let anyone. bother her. Or judge her. But more than that. He rose. And turned leaving. This time. She did not. Stop him. Her body. Her heart. Her soul. Shutting down. Libertys tearful eyes. Went blank. Tears ran down her cheeks still. But it wasn't. As though he cared. Or understood. the amount of pain. That she had. From home. And now. From him. The world. Would never be able. To accept her. In any way. She waited. Until he left. Her body. Hurt so badly. Though he had. Done his best. And patched her up. The pain radiated. From every pore. As the door shut. She rose. Her body shaking. Radiating with pain. As she moved. To the closet. To the dresser. To anyplace. That had a long shirt. A pair of shorts. anything.

She found a shirt. And t hen. Some boxers. Whether. They were dirty. She cared not. She grabbed. Vinchento. And she knew. He had to be fixed. And soon. But she tucked him. For now. In the waistband. Of her shorts. Her body shaking. Her small stature. Trembling. From the pain. But she had. Been hurt before. And she would. Do anything. To do what. She needed to do. Taking. Some scissors. He had used. She tucked them. In with Vinnie. And she took a deep. Shuddering breath. and with that. She opened the door. And she moved. Running painfully. Through the apartment. And ducking out. Of the open door. It had been. Kicked open. And made for a perfect. Escape. Down the hall. Outside. And into the cold night.

Outside. She ran. In any random direction. Not caring. Where she would. End up in the end. But bix. Was beyond. Being able to stay. Being able to lean on him. Being able to care. And being able. To try. She just ran. Stumbling many times. She cared not. more blood ran. Her wounds opened. Soaking her bandages. But she still ran. Not wanting to stop. Any time soon.

She was gone. And of course. He might be able. To find her. But to be honest. She doubted. He would come after her. And if she did it right. He wouldn' tknow. What her plan was. Until it was too late. For him to do. Anything about it.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah felt a sudden jolt of pain, foriegn to him yet at the same time strangely familiar. It radiated off the girl he left in the next room, and caused him to clutch his abdomen in pain. Emotional pain was always worse than the physical- it was a proven fact. Then, suddenly, he felt her rush pass his bedroom door, twinges of pain wracking him as the pain hit her. She jumped through the front door and out into the rain. Jeremiah stood in a rush, opening the door and bolting afer her, flying through his apartment and into the downpour, close behind the girl. Even if she got ahead of him it wouldnt help- he could find her no matter the distance. His shirt clung to his body, the droplets of water rolling off his bald skull as he tried to see her through the mess of weather.

He chased her for a long while until, by chance, grass game under his feet. he slowed when he saw her outline in the rain. He stepped forward, then opened his eyes wide as he felt her thoughts, what it seemed like she was contemplating.

"Don't!"

His voice was deep and loud, drowning out even the thunder. The storm felt sudden, especially since he had picked her up only a few hours ago to clear skies.

He stepped carefully forward, this delicate situation on his hands entirely.

She may not realize it....but if she went through with it, she would be killing him too.

Her death meant his death.

Simple.

[bix]

Betrayed
&& Alone

Bix ran. It was all she could do. Every step. Was painful. Sending large jolts. Of pain. Trembling up. Her spine. Radiating. Through her entire body. Opening wounds. Once more. That he had closed. Ripping stitches. Out. That he had placed. Blood collecting. In the bandages. That had once. Been white and clean. Soaking down. Under her shirt. With blood and water. She knew not. Where the weather had come. But it was almost. Refreshing. To run. In the rain. Her mind. Thought back. To the first time. She had met Connor. And how he might. Be able. to see. Using the rain. It intrigued her. But the way. It was going now. She felt. As though. She would never know. Nor live. To see that miracle. Still though. This was. Just what. Her life had come to. There seemed. To real reason. To continue on. That which. Was so obviously. Not her place.

Grass under feet. Spraying water. Around her. And bits of dirt. On her legs. She ran. Until her lungs. Burned. And her body. Could go. Not one step. Further. Finally. She stopped. Breathing heavily. She knew. That he was. Following her. She could feel his. Closeness. Sense his concern. NOt for her. But for his wellbeing. It was no secret. That if she died. He died. But did he really. Think her. A murderer? She would. Of course. Release him first. While Bix. Had many thoughts. Of murdering her father. It was not. Something she. Would do. To someone. That she. Actually did. Care for. Someone that she wished. Could care. Any amount. For her.

DON'T

Bix sighed. Her head fell. Chin touching. Her chest. As she stood there. Shivering. From the cold water. From the pain. And from the weakness. She did not. Wish for him to be here. Only because. She knew. That he didn't. Really care for her. He cared. For himself. Not that. She could really. Blame him. Tears. Leaked down her cheeks. But it was not. As though. One could tell. Because of course. It was raining.

"Why?"

Bix asked. She knew. That he could hear her. Because she asked. Not only in mind. But in words. So that way. There was no way. He would not. Hear her. Even if. She was too weak. To speak fully. Loudly for him.

"You care not for me, but only because if I do what you know I want to... you'll go with me. Do you think me a murderer Jeremiah? Do you think I would take your life so selfishly?"

Bix's knees. Went weak. And she sunk down. To the grass. Soaking anything left. That had not already. Been soaked. Her eyes closed. She was tired. So tired. And yet. She could find no rest. No one wanted her. No one cared. NO one thought. That his witch. Was crying. So loudly. For help. And a place to. Belong.

"You.. despise my existence. Just like.. everyone else. The only reason you are here .. around me.. if for this stupid bond and nothing else. I repulse you as I do everyone else. Pretend not, that you care."

Of course. Again. Everything was said. Through her mind. And her words. However. It was said. In her heart. IN her emotions. He would be getting. Everything. From all sides. Of their bond. So that he. Could truly feel. What she felt. Truly understand. How much. She hurt.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

This girl acted like he was a monster for showing her coldness. Jeremiah was no monster. He could be and has been before, but in all reality he was just another kid. Albiet a slightly psychotic, totally unchildlike one. He took a few steps forward, a cloud strangely parting, casting its waking light on the body of the brute. He looked up, his eyes stinging with the rain yet unwilling to close, taking in that stunning beauty which to him, served its purpose perfectly in this situation. He would slowly move up behind her, and, instead of removing the weapon from her path as he easily could have done, he wrapped his arms around her gently from behind. It caused a lance of pain through his chest. He felt her pain, but he also knew, inside, that she wanted him to leave.

He couldnt help the sudden, overwhelming sadness that flooded his own body, mixing with hers and causing a strange thunder storm of emotion. He was sad because holding her, like that, reminded him so vividly of his love who perished. He didnt cry- jeremiah had no tears left. He cried for days, months, years, or so it felt like to him. He wouldnt, couldnt cry anymore. He spoke gently, speaking it in his mind as well.

"Your wrong, i do care about you Bix. Your the closest thing to a friend i have ever come close to having since that day." He looked out across the park, picking up shapes and images through the rain.

"But you have to understand- my past isnt the kind of past that gives me the ability to welcome people into my heart much."

His body suddenly wracked with mental pain, dropping him to his knees. Now, Jeremiah was a strong person, a man who could shrug off a knife in the stomach or a gun shot to the leg. If something dropped him to his knees- then it was painful beyond belief. He looked up at the back of her head, speaking into her mind once again.

'You want to know about me and get close to me? Fine, learn!'

He transferred flashes of memory and pictures of his past to her, sending them almost hungrily and all at once. The first was the picture of a girl, Black hair and stunning green eyes, bright in color. She had a locket around her delicate neck, and a bright smile on her face. She was running, sun brightly glittering behind her as she threw her arms around a drastically different looking Jeremy. He wore a plain white t shirt and a slightly brighter pair of blue jeans. On his wrist was a nice watch, and he was laughing. But it was different then the laugh he carried today- this one was uncanny and totally unlike him. It was, in the purest, greatest sense of the word-

Genuine.

His caught her, planting a small, delicate kiss on her lips.

Then came a scream.

The memory of him holding her would flash from veiw, to be replaced by rain not unlike what they were having now. In the rain was Jeremy on his knees, and hung with her arms above her head, was the skinless body of the girl that was previously mentioned. Before his knees and dribbling off Jeremiahs chin was vomit, and he had fainted terribly. From there, memories of his unspeakable acts followed. Of the brutality, the gore, the tenacity in which he tore people apart. He burned people alive, slowly, patch by patch of skin, letting them scream in agony as he held them on the cusp of life and death with a sadistic grin on his lips. He sent her images of his way of killing, of making sure they were alive for as long as possible so they could suffer longer. Of him torturing people in terrible, violent, disgusting ways that would make even the most battle hardened, stone cold killer cringe. Images far, far to graphic for this writer to relate to you.

Jeremiah kept flooding her with them, falling over onto his side as his body wracked with pain. He had sent her these things, his past, and it wasnt something he was suppose to do for fear of hurting her. the possibility of hurting her was a nono, and his oath made good on it. Every nerve was ablaze, and his body began wracking uncontrollably until he finally cut off the cord that was giving her these pictures of his terrible past. He kept his eyes closed as the pain slowly, ever so slowly, dissipated. He sent her only one more thing- His Anger. He let her see the bottomless well of hatred and pain that suffocated him. If it werent this night, the night when he let himself show through, he would never have done any of this for her, only because thats who he was- he didnt let people see his feelings. They were for him alone.

But he did.

He showed her for her own good, and for his. He rolled over onto his back as he let her feel his pain, his all consuming pain. Not physical, but mental and emotional. To him, it drowned out all else. He breathed heavily.

'It's not that i dont care about you, or your life.'

He clenched his teeth.

'Its that i don't care about myself or my own life.'

To fully care about another person, you had to lvoe yourself first, and make your own life happier with thier sense of peace and happiness.

Jeremiah simply could not- or so he believed- let another person get as close to him as his love did before..

Not Again.

Not now....Not ever.

[bix]

Truth
&& Consenquences

Bix felt. His arms. Strong as they were. Closed around her. Holding her. Against his chest. From behind. She felt him. His breathing. His ache. His agony. And she knew. That he too. Could feel her own. She knew. That this was hard. For the both of them. But while he. claimed she. Did not understand. He too. Understood not. This girl. That had. Attached to him. In a way. He had never. Imagined. His knees. Went weak. And he took. The small girl. With him, as they fell. Into the grass. Beneath them both. Her. On her knees. And Jeremiah. Holding onto her. Their bond. Stronger. Than it would be. Were they not. Touching. She could feel. That this. Would be a truly. Enlightening moment.

Images. Began. To flood her mind. Pain. Tearing. Into her soul. She gasped. And her eyes. Widened. As images. Flashed. A whole story. Unfolded. Right before. Her eyes. Of a girl. With dark hair. And green eyes. Of a girl. That had been murdered. Brutally. Of a girl. That he had loved. And cared for. She could see. The difference. In Jeremiah now. And Jeremiah then. She could tell the difference. In his eyes. In his demeanor. In everything. That he was. She hated to think. He had changed. So very much. And yet she knew. She knew that. They were more. Alike than. He had ever. Imagined. She watched. AS he turned. In moments. From the warm. Man he had been. To the man. He was now.

he fell back. On the ground and Bix. Was kneeling there. Taking it. All in. Feeling the pain. Feeling the despair. Feeling the helplessness. And the feeling. Of anger. So deep. And so ungly. He would not. Come back from easily. When it all ended. Bix turned to him. Tears streaming. Down her cheeks. In the rain. The water. Making her clothing. STick to her. She was much curvier. Than when. They had first met. Since he was. Feeding her often. Laying down. She put her head. On his chest. Listening. To his heart beat. As the aftermath. Of such pain. And emotions. Rushed through her. She waited. Until he explained. That it was not. That he did not. Like her. Or accept her. But that. He was unable. to let anyone. Close.

Bix. Felt as though. It were her turn. As Liberty. Screamed out. In her mind. Not to share. Not to show. The horrible burdens. Of what had turned. A sweet girl. Into Bix. Bix felt. It only right. That he understood. Her.

There was a girl. Dark black hair. Short. And she was young. Probably about four. She had always. Been slightly strange. Anyway. But that was. Just the way. That she was. She was. Playing in. The backyard. Of a large home. One that had. Been there. Since she was born. Her mother. On the porch. Reading a book. Everything. Seemed wonderful. Flash forward. to an older Bix. About ten. A sweet girl. That ws happy. Her brothers. Twins. Were born. They were all. In the living room. Of a home. That was not. The same. As the one before. This one smaller. The grandure. Of the other home. Forgotten. Father. Came in the door. The large man. Was large even then. And he looked. At his family. Hugging his sons. But not his daughter. Ignoring her. As she came to him. With pictures. With school work. Done right. With everything. That she had done. Trying so hard. To be the right one. To be the daughter. That made him proud.

More flashes continued. As life. Began to alter. to change. Bix finding her witchcraft. Was an escape. A brief flash. Of her changing. Of her finding this. Escape from. Everything. Of her father's hatred. Of her mother's hatred. Of her brothers. Trying hard. To please their father. And suceeding. Trying not. To even talk. To Bix. A stranger. In her own home. Unwanted. Unloved. By the family. That had once. Loved her so much. Her fault. It was not. That thehome. Had been lost. That the job. Had faltered. And that moving. Was the only option. Bix was lost. The girl. Was afraid. Unwanted. Un loved. At such an early cage. Nothing. Would be able. To change. That her family. Had decided. She was not. Only unnecessary. But that. She was trouble.

Blue hair. Replaced black. And withdrew. Inside herself she had. But the final thing. She left him with. Was pain. Where his. Bottomless pit. Was anger. Her own. Was all encompassing pain. The pain. that rendered. A soul. The pain. That made one. Hollow. For if you felt. You would die. From the sharp devouring. Ways of the pain. Locking herself. Away. Bix was created. Liberty was hidden. And the world. Came to know Bix. Hatred grew. To new heights. To new lengths. And Bix. Grew stronger. Liberty weaker. Flashes once more. Of rejection. From friends. From family. From school. From boys. From girls. From everyone.

Bix closed the link. Leaving him. with that pain. So that while. She could. Understand his anger. For she had tasted it. At times. Herself. He would not. Understand. The amount of pain. That she carried. Within her petite soul. She lay there. In the rain. Her head. ON his chest. Her hand. Found his. And slid. Her fingers. Between. His own. As the rain. Splattered against. The pair. Lying in. The grass. In a puddle of rain.

~Stay.~

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiahs eyes seemed to scan over everything she showed him at a rapid pace, his cold, blank heart drinking the pain and suffering in like a man who had been desert born, having his first taste of water in days. He seemed half starved, wanting more and more. It felt strange to him, her pain. It wasnt weaker or stronger than his, by comparisson, but they couldnt exactly be compared on the same level. Her was a mental and emotional pain grown into a physical. His was opposite. A physical loss and pain grown into a mental and emotional one. So he knew it all, holding, grasping, squeezing the viosns and imbedding them deep into his brain, making sure never to forget. He guessed that this event would bring them far closer than they had ever been.

A part of him welcomed it with open arms, and the other part screamed at it, trying to get it to leave. He didnt stop her when she took his hand, instead keeping his eyes skyward as the ran caused ripples in his eyes, his automatic reflex being to blink yet his consciousness not allowing it. He looked down at the girl. She seemed different. Stronger, perhaps, yet weaker. She was more aptly built, and he couldnt help but wonder why a parent would do what her father had done. His anger boiled anew at thinking of him, so he let the memory of the man fade, relaxing a little more. He felt like he needed to be honest with her, and so he spoke to her mind once again, using that to make sure it was heard over the rain and lightning that creashed about them.

'Tomorrow, i will be as i was. you must learn not to take that side of me personally- it's my only defense from the pain.' He smiled. 'For that, i am sorry.'

He wished he could talk to her longer, let her know that everything was going to be okay, but he couldnt. He wasnt going to try and tell her the same thing he had told the last girl, the lie that had escaped from his lips. That it would be alright. He didnt know the future, not all of it. The only thing he did know was this.

He would stay by her side, oath or no, and watch over her. she needed him. He wouldnt tell her that he would stay- he didnt want her to release him. He would remain connected to her so he could speak with her, remember her and know her always.

His friend.

He leaned up, picking her up easily, as if she were just a baby, carrying her the same way he had earlier when he rescued her from her abusive father.

' Lets get you home- on top of those wounds your going to catch a cold.'

Then he ran.

[bix]

Moving On
&& Understanding

Bix listened. As he told her. Tomorrow. He would. Once more. Be himself. And that this. Was only. Temporary. She could understand. For she. Did not. Like to talk. About her past either. And she wished. More than anything. That he would know. But never ask. At least. Not unless. He had to. She understood. That not ever time. Could they be. Close like this. She figured. It had to do. With this night. What was different. For surely. They had been together. In the rain. And surely. At night. But it had. To be the moon. It was the only. Variable. Her eyes looked up. For only a second. And realized. The full moon. Was special. And she would remember. And spend. Every one. With her Jeremiah. If he would. Let her do so.

he shifted. And his arms. Came around. Her tiny body. That even filled out. Was so light weight. To someone. Like him. AS he lifted her. And got up. Of the ground. He carried her. She lay her head. On his chest. Just a little higher. Than before. Her eyes were growing heavy. HIs emotions and her own. Filling her mind. And making her tired. She was still healing. And bleeding. And now he was right. She would likely. Get sick. From being in the rain. Already weakened. But that was. Just the life. Of her. She could change nothing. And was glad. Now that. He had come. After her. That he had come to talk to her. To show her. That he was not. Just cold. That there was a person. Within him. That felt. And she showed him. The very same.

Back in the apartment. He lay her down. Very gently. On the bed. That she had left. And leaving. He was back. In moments. With a pill. Sliding it. Between her two. Trembling lips. Telling her to swallow. She obeyed. And soon. Her eyes grew heavy. And her hand. Held his. As she drifted. To sleep. Shaking. And in pain. Until the pill. Kicked in fully. And was sleeping. Numbly. On the bed.

Morning dawned.

And with it. Her eyes opened. She was alone. On the bed. Not surprising. However. She knew. Things were different. She could feel. The difference. In their bond. Which had only. Grown infinitly stronger. The night previous. Her body ached. But it meant. She was alive. And that ws something. She would take. Her eyes. Looked down. Noticing the clean. Bandages that covered. Her small body. All done with care. And very well. Sitting up. The pain shot through. Her body. But it was nothing. She could not manage. Her eyes looked. Around the room. In hopes. Of finding. Jeremiah there. But no. Her hopes were dashed. However... against the wall. Something.. she had not expected.

Rising. From her bed. She moved. Across the room. Kneeling down. She picked. The purple kitty. Off the floor. The stitches. Were so perfect. They were unnoticable. She squeezed. His head. And felt the crystal. In the middle. Tears welled. In her eyes. Hugging the cat. The one. Vinchento. To her body. She burried. Her face. Against it's soft. Purple fur. It meant. The world to her. He was. Her only friend. Of course. Before Pine. And before Jeremiah. And before Connor. He was there. When she had no one. He was. More real to her. Than most. A note. Caught her eye. And there. He had left. In his writing. ~Thank you, for caring~ Bix smiled. And she rose. Vinchento had. A small pocket on. His back. For small keepsakes. And Bix folded. The note up. Placing it. In the fold. Hidden. And protected.

Leaving her room. She crossed to his. Opening his door. Without asking. AS of course. He knew she. Was there. He was putting. His shirt on. and she could see. His back. There she was. Still in only. Her bandages. and a shirt. She crossed. To him. And leaned up. Kissing his cheek. Just once. For a split second. Saying nothing. For she was not sure. He would understand. How much. Mending the stuffed. Cat had meant.

"clothing, I may borrow, you have?"

He had said. Tomorrow. Was back to normal. And Bix. Was trying. To make sure. She did not. Bring up. Yesterday.