For the Hopeless

"You should wake up," Tawny murmured, turning her face to nuzzle Bailey's chest. She lay beneath the covers, silent and still, with Tawny's slender arm over her middle and a small leg over hers. "We don't get to talk very often, and I think now might be a good time." There was a spike of activity in Bailey's brain, but nothing more. It dropped again, leaving Tawny to her mental silence. She could hear whispers of Dameon's restless thoughts, of Aven's worrisome debates, of Madeleine's carefree dreaming, but nothing of importance to her. She wanted to hear only Bailey's thoughts, to see deep inside her guarded mind.

She turned to Bailey, gazing into her peaceful face with a gentle frown. Please? she begged in her mind, through with speaking out loud to someone who couldn't listen. Please talk to me? Bailey's mind stirred once more. A flash of red and a shriek tore through Tawny's mind. She jerked back from Bailey's warm body, nearly toppling off the bed as the assault continued.

It was like nothing she had ever felt before, this rush of sights and sounds and raw, frightening emotions. She felt Bailey's monstrous rage, mingling with her distant grief and fear, the only part of her that seemed human. Tawny didn't know what this was, with all of these faces and battles flashing through her mind. Was it all just a dream? Or was it a horrific reality? The people being killed were human – she could smell the blood. It must have been real, one of Bailey's more recent confrontations.

After a full, agonizing minute, the onslaught ceased, leaving Tawny's mind filled with only her own quiet thoughts and the soft whispers of the thoughts of others in the household. Bailey was completely gone now, falling back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, though a frown had made its way onto her face and refused to leave.

Does she feel like that all the time? Tawny wondered, cautiously cuddling into Bailey's side once more, her gray-and-blue eyes intent upon her face. "Will you wake up now?" she asked aloud, though she still expected no response. Again, a swift rise and fall in Bailey's brain activity, but nothing more. Tawny sighed. "What did that kiss mean?" was her next unheard question, spoken in the softest whisper. She buried her face into the woman's chest. "Do you...like me?" she murmured, her words barely audible. "Or are we just friends?"

Suddenly, an exceptionally strong spike in Bailey's brain activity threatened to jerk Tawny from reality, and she allowed it to. She was pulled into what she recognized as one of Bailey's memories, gazing at herself and the devil woman from afar. She remembered this, when the two of them had been walking to the nearby gas station together. It was only a month ago...or maybe more. Tawny wasn't entirely sure.

Here, there was no snow on the ground, the sun bright and hovering high in the sky overhead. They were in the center of the rarely traveled street a block or so from their home, chattering as if they hadn't a care in the world. It was one of the only times Tawny had left the house.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Bailey asked, her red-tinted eyes on the smaller girl's fidgeting hands. It was an abrupt turn from the conversation about ducks they'd been having only seconds ago, and Tawny looked up at her friend, startled. "Are you uncomfortable?" Bailey asked again. "Does being outside bother you?"

"O-oh," Tawny stammered, her fair cheeks reddening the slightest bit in embarrassment. "Not really. Well...a little, I guess." Bailey frowned and opened her mouth to speak, likely to offer to walk her back home, but Tawny stopped her. "I'm fine. Really. It's unusual, being out here after being inside for so long, but...I like it. I get to be with you," she told Bailey, offering her a pretty, genuine smile. Bailey's expression softened, and Tawny recalled the echo of "She's so sweet" that slipped through the barriers of the woman's mind. Intentional or accidental, it made her blush deepen, though her smile didn't fade.

"All right," Bailey said, unable to force a small smile of her own from her lips. She moved just a bit closer to Tawny as they continued on down the road, draping an arm over her small shoulders. If her blush could have darkened any further, it probably would have. "I...like being with you, too," she admitted in a softer tone than before.

At the time, Tawny had taken this as mere camaraderie, but now...

"How foolish of you not to notice." Bailey's voice pulled Tawny from the memory, firmly placing her back into reality. She turned her face to Bailey's and found her smiling softly, so softly, down at her. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, the observant one."

Tawny laughed lightly, feeling her cheeks heat up as they had in the memory. "I know. I just...I guess I thought it was too good to be true."

Bailey let out a laugh of her own, raspy in reality, but beautiful in her mind, where Tawny heard it. "Too good to be true? A devil loves you. Most people wouldn't call that 'good.'"

"Well, most people aren't me," Tawny retorted confidently, the color finally leaving her cheeks.

"You got that right," Bailey said with a half smile before pulling Tawny's face closer to hers, their lips gently touching in a chaste kiss. She pulled back for a moment, gazing into Tawny's beautiful eyes, then leaned in again and again and again, placing kiss after kiss on her lips.

Finally, Tawny broke free of Bailey's loving hold, giggling. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better," she told the woman with a broad grin.

Bailey returned the grin, more happiness in her eyes than Tawny had ever seen there before, and pulled the small girl back to her. "And it's all thanks to you," she said before beginning to kiss her as she had been before, now placing playful pecks all over her heart-shaped face.

Tawny squealed in delight, pretending to struggle in Bailey's grasp. "Hey!" she cried through her laughter. "Now's not the time for that! I'm sure Dameon wants to-" Bailey stopped dead, her face falling so quickly that Tawny almost found the change frightening.

"Dameon? Where is he? Is he all right?" she asked quickly, worry evident in her tone.

"He's fine," Tawny answered with a frown, silently mourning the loss of the playful mood, of the lovely smile on Bailey's pale lips. "He's in his room now. He's sporting a few new injuries, but it's nothing fatal. He'll heal quickly."

Bailey released her and rose from the bed. "I should go see him," she said, worry still in her voice and her eyes. "Is he awake?"

Tawny nodded slowly, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "Yes," she said, her lips still set in a frown. "I think I woke him, actually, with all the...all the squealing," she admitted, her blush returning at full force.

Bailey's long-lost smile returned at that, and she leaned close to Tawny once more. "Thank you, Tawny," she whispered, then placed one last loving kiss on the girl's lips and left the room.

She found Dameon lying in bed in his own dark bedroom, leaning against a mountain of pillows that had been set up near the headboard. The light was off, all of the curtains closed, but she could still see the bright white of bandages around his bare torso as well as the sharp red bleeding through.

"What happened?" she asked softly, closing the door quietly behind herself. "Are you...all right?"

Dameon laughed lightly, and she was relieved to see a smile curving his lips. "I'm fine. Just a little banged up." He watched, continuing to smile, as Bailey cautiously approached the bed and perched herself lightly upon the edge.

"I assume you killed the remaining witness?" she asked, her expression serious. She'd left her lightheartedness behind, with Tawny. It was time for business now.

"And freed the remaining captives," Dameon told her with a nod, his own expression losing its playfulness. "More Traitors showed up to attempt to stop us, but I had no choice but to run."

Bailey nodded. "I'm sure most of the captives were able to escape, even if some were recaptured or killed. We..." Here, she paused to let out a long, slow, tired sigh, then finished, "Helped."

"We did," he agreed, nodding once.

"I'm never going shoe shopping again, though," she told him, flopping down onto the bed beside him. He laughed lightly, putting an arm around her and sliding her closer to him.

"I second that sentiment. I was never a big fan of shoe shopping to begin with, but now, I'll never be able to look at a DSW the same way again. I've been traumatized." She grinned, and his smile grew. "How are you feeling, Bay?"

"Not too bad. I'm just a bit groggy," she replied, beginning to absentmindedly trace his bandages with her index finger.

"I would think so. You were injected with enough tranquilizer to put ten elephants to sleep, maybe more."

Her expression suddenly shifted to a pout, which looked incredibly odd on her ever-serious face. "It made me feel all tingly, and I didn't like it."

He chuckled and placed a light kiss on the top of her head, as if she were a child. "I know, I know. But it's all over now. Once the remaining grogginess wears off, you'll be perfectly fine."

Suddenly, Bailey sat bolt upright on the bed, a look of shock on her face. "They probably had cameras all over that place. They'll know what we look like now, what we are, what we're able to do."

"And why is that so bad?" Dameon asked, much more calm than Bailey had expected.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked, angered by his nonchalance about this issue. "What good could possibly come of this?"

"No good's going to come of it, I'm sure, but no harm, either," Dameon told her, continuing to remain calm even beneath her annoyed glare. "They won't be able to tell who we are just by knowing what we look like, and so what if they know that I'm a werewolf? It's not going to influence their course of action very much. Besides, they're guaranteed to have no idea what you are, even if they do know a little bit about your powers. If anything, knowing what you can do is just going to frighten them into avoiding you."

"So...you think we're safe?" she asked, already relaxing a bit at his words.

"I do," he said with a nod.

"Good," she said with a relieved sigh, lying back down on the bed. His arm snaked around her once more, and she allowed him to draw her closer, her head soon resting on his bare chest. Her finger began to trace his bandages again, but this time, she seemed to be fully aware of what she was doing. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked softly, her dark eyes on his face now.

"I'm positive," he responded just as quietly. Her eyes went back to her finger, following the edge of the bandage, and he began to twirl a strand of her long, auburn hair around his finger. "You need a shower," he remarked after a moment, noticing a fine layer of grease on her hair.

She sighed. "I know. I just don't want to get up. At all. Ever again." Her eyes found his face once more, taking in his pretty hazel eyes and the playful smile upon his lips, the bit of stubble along his chin, the wideness of his vaguely dog-like nose. "You always look like a wolf, don't you?" she commented with a playful smile of her own, running her fingers gently over the build up of facial hair.

His smile turned into a grin, and he let out another soft chuckle. "I suppose so. It's a curse," he told her, tugging lightly at the bit of chest hair he had.

She laughed, slowly sitting up on the bed beside him. "Nah. You look cute with all your wolf hair." She stood, though she continued to smile down at him. "Now, I'm going to go take a shower before I officially decide to never get out of bed again. You should get some more sleep while I'm gone."

"I'll try," he said with a small smile of his own.

"Good." And with that, she left, once again closing the door quietly behind herself.

"Still just the gay best friend," he muttered to himself, and rolled onto his side with a dejected sigh.

-

Hayden staggered out the back door of her favorite club, Silver, with a clamor that would have woken the dead and probably had. She would've stayed inside for longer, but it was nearly six in the morning, closing time. Besides, she was sloshed, the result of a crowd of college-aged guys with a thing for the underage. There was no way that she would be able to safely teleport herself home, so she would have to walk. And in her current state, that would likely take forever, giving Bailey and Dameon even more time to notice her absence.

She laughed stupidly to herself when the stiletto heel of her black boot caught on a large rock and nearly sent her sprawling on the cold, snowy asphalt. She barely managed to remain upright, scraping her palms on the rough brick wall beside her when she caught herself. She was still laughing when a dark figure emerged from the shadow of the nearby dumpster, approaching her with casual, confident strides.

"Are you Hayden?" the figure asked, coming into view. He was six-foot-tall, at least, with the palest skin she'd ever seen, paler even than Bailey's sickly pallor. "Friend of the Guardian, Bailey?"

Her laughter died away, and she suddenly found herself wishing that she wasn't so drunk. If he wanted to kill her, to capture her, to do just about anything to her, she would be helpless. "Yes," she answered in a nervous slur, squinting in an attempt to see his face better in the alley's darkness.

His eyes were a deep blue, empty and emotionless, and she could see a set of dark, dark brown bangs brushing his equally dark eyebrows. His lips were an exceptionally pale pink to match his exceptionally pale flesh, and she could just make out a pair of pearly white fangs when he smiled.

Vampire.

"Good," he said, reaching out to grip her forearm with an ice-cold hand. "Then I've found the right person."

She tried to pull her arm from his grasp, but he was too strong for her. He gripped her other arm in the same manner and slammed her back against the brick wall that had saved her only moments ago. "What do you want?" she asked, beginning to sober up a bit, but not enough to do any good.

"Your help," he said, his smile growing to show even more fang. He was much too close to her face for her liking, especially baring those teeth down at her as he was, but she knew better than to struggle against him. Riling the vampire up would only make matters worse.

"How am I supposed to help you?" she asked, doing her best to sound calm and coherent instead of...well...scared shitless and shit-faced. "I'm not really capable of doing anything helpful at the moment."

The man chuckled, and she could smell blood on his chilly breath. "My dear, your services aren't required at this very moment. All I need now is your word that you'll do me a little favor later on."

She swallowed back her rising fear and asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Here, he released her arms and took a much more casual stance, leaning against the wall beside her. There was a sparkle to his eye that made her dread his request before he'd even uttered a syllable. "Have you ever considered becoming a Traitor?"