His every thought was consumed by the air flowing in and out of his lungs, tearing against the ragged flesh of his torn throat, yet too sweet a luxury for him to relinquish it just yet, for fear of losing the ability entirely. He was so focused on simply breathing - in and out, in and out - that the sudden sound of approaching footsteps caught him off guard.

Panic immediately seized his mind.

This is it! It's them; they're coming! They've been watching, and I've done so many things wrong! Shouldn't have let her take the collar off; they're just gonna put it right back on...or...or...please, no...please, don't...

Blindly, helplessly, he felt for the wall that had been behind him, scrabbling backward with an effort until he felt his battered back hit the smooth, cool plaster with a painful impact. There was nothing he could do but wait in cringing, terrified submission as the footsteps drew steadily closer. All he could hear was his own rapid, shallow breathing, gasping for the last few draughts of precious breath, knowing that within moments they would be stolen from him again.

It's too late...they've come...no, please, no...

Then, he felt a soft, familiar touch...a warm, gentle hand on his...and his panicked thoughts came to an abrupt halt, as he remembered. It was...her. She hadn't hurt him - not yet - and she wasn't hurting him now, just holding his hand in hers in a steadying, comforting gesture.

Maybe...she wasn't going to hurt him at all?

He scarcely dared to consider that possibility.

Sooner or later, the pain, the punishment, always returned.

She wouldn't put the collar back on...would she? Please, don't...please, I couldn't bear it...not again...

The panic began to lift as he heard her voice, speaking to him in soft, soothing tones. "Shhh, it's okay. It's all right; it's just me. You're safe; I'm not gonna hurt you. You're safe now."

He allowed a wave of relief to wash over him with the words, so desperate to believe them that it was a physical ache deep in his chest. His exhaustion and weakness made the rush of emotion powerful enough to nearly drive him to unconsciousness again. Dizzy and unsteady, he fell forward slightly, braced on his one good hand, trembling violently and struggling just to stay upright and conscious.

***********************************

As Tara had slowly, cautiously approached him, her heart ached for him, and the torment he must have endured to make him so terrified, so constantly on the verge of blind panic. She crouched carefully beside him, reaching out and taking his hand with less hesitation this time, hoping that it would help to bring him out of the cycle of terror he seemed to be stuck in, to possibly remind him that she did not intend to hurt him.

Though she was fairly certain he wasn't even hearing her at that point, Tara just kept talking to him softly, trying to reassure him and calm him with the steady, gentle cadence of her voice.

Gradually, it worked.

The vampire's frighteningly rapid breaths became slower and a little steadier, as he leaned slightly forward, bracing himself on his good arm. She waited until she thought he was back in the present with her, fully able to comprehend her words, before she tried to actually communicate with him.

"You're safe here. This is my house, and I'm the only one here...okay?"

He hesitated, before nodding slowly, cautiously. Tara frowned, getting the impression that he was only nodding because he thought she wanted him to, not because he actually believed what she was saying.

Why should he? she reminded herself. I could tell him anything; how would he know the difference between the truth and a lie? And it's not exactly as if his recent experience has been conducive to blind trust.

As she set the glass of water and empty basin down on the floor beside her, her eyes drifted almost eagerly from the grisly wreckage of his face, down to his body, once again exposed and vulnerable from his doomed efforts at retreat, the blanket that had covered him lying discarded on the floor.

Tara winced as she was brutally reminded of his pitifully starved condition, his every bone visible through the thin veneer of his nearly translucent skin. Every panicked breath he drew made his ribs stand out in stark relief. His arms and legs were nothing but bone covered over with pale, paper-thin skin, battered and torn and mottled with countless bruises. His legs appeared to be broken in several places, the jagged edges nearly piercing through the skin here and there on the mangled limbs.

Gently, she pulled the blanket up over his painfully jutting hips again, murmuring soothing shushing sounds when he whimpered almost silently, shuddering in terror at the contact. Carefully, she reached to take his hand again, guiding it to the blanket and pressing it gently into his hand.

"It's all right. See? Just the blanket...not gonna hurt you," she assured him. "It's okay."

Gradually he seemed to lose a bit of his frantic panic, though he was still trembling violently against the wall, his shaking fingers slowly working the soft fabric between them, as if to constantly reassure himself of what it was, and the fact that it was safe.

The mere effort of holding up his head, which seemed almost too big for his body in its frail, emaciated state, seemed to exhaust the desperately weakened creature, and he gradually lowered it as she looked on, his breathing labored and ragged. She fought back a wave of mingled fury and sickness at the thought of how long he must have been denied such basic necessities as nourishment and clothing.

No...he's got no reason to trust me...no reason to trust anyone...

For a moment longer she just knelt beside him, lightly stroking her fingertips over the back of his hand in slow, soothing motions, her brow furrowed with concern. He looked ready to pass out at any moment; he had to be utterly exhausted...but he needed blood before she could let him sleep.

"Okay, I...I have blood for you," she told him softly, her heart lurching within her chest at the way his head rose just a fraction, and his body went tense, every facet of his posture speaking of desperate hope. "I just...I want you to try a little water first, okay? I wanna be sure...be sure your throat's well enough to drink it. All right?"

He hesitated, before nodding uncertainly, and once again Tara got the feeling that he was simply trying to be obedient.

Carefully Tara lifted the empty basin, balancing it on one arm under his mouth, so as to catch any spillage, as she slowly raised the half-full glass of water to his parched lips.

"Here you go," she murmured. "Just a little..."

He took a bit into his mouth, and she lowered the glass as he tried to swallow...and immediately choked on the tiny sip of liquid. Coughing and gasping as his swollen throat rejected it, he could not stop the water from spilling back out of his mouth, splashing into the basin.

Immediately he jerked back away from her, flinching and knocking his head into the wall, clearly expecting punishment for his carelessness. His breath was weak and rapid and hoarse, and even as quickly as he was breathing, Tara knew he could not actually be getting much oxygen to his lungs. Of course, if the need for air was more emotional than physical, she considered, then perhaps that didn't matter so much. She blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes, whispering soothingly to him.

"It's okay. It's not your fault, Sweetie. It's fine. Let's...let's try again."

The second attempt fared no better than the first, leaving the vampire gagging and sputtering, before finally coughing up the water into the basin again, this time mingled with flecks of old, dried blood, so dark it was almost black, and tiny bits of fabric which Tara recognized as coming from the gag. Her stomach lurched as she wondered again how long he had been forced to keep the filthy thing in his mouth.

The next try went a little better, but the water still ended up in the basin. Tara tried a little less, and a little less, until finally, the vampire was able to let the slightest trickle of the water flow down his raw, abraded throat...and keep it there.

"Good! You're doing so good, Sweetie..."

Tara exulted softly, the slight tremor in her voice the only expression she would allow her excitement. At this point, the traumatized creature would probably read any form of emotional excitement as a danger sign. Still, she could not help the ecstatic sense of relief and accomplishment she felt. This was progress, however minor it might be. If he could keep a bit of water down, then he would likely be able to keep some blood down as well...and she knew that would be the first step for him toward genuine physical recovery.

Emotional and mental, on the other hand...

One thing at a time, Tara...don't get ahead of yourself...

"Okay...you wanna try a little more?" she suggested gently, not wanting to push him, wanting him to know that he had a choice.

The vampire eagerly nodded, holding his head up, his lips parted in anticipation of the cool liquid. Tara realized with sympathy that it was probably soothing to the damaged tissues of his throat, and carefully poured a bit more into his mouth, no more than a sip. She repeated the painstakingly slow process several times, not giving a thought to the time it was taking, patiently waiting until half the glass was gone.

After all, she had no idea how much his stomach would hold after such starvation, and he needed to get some blood into his system right away. She looked him over with a speculative eye, and was relieved and pleased to see that he already looked a bit better, just for getting some fluids into his body. His lips did not look as parched as they had before, and his jaw seemed to move with greater ease as he swallowed slowly.

"Okay. You did so good...I'm very happy," she assured him in simple terms to be sure he understood, briefly, impulsively, covering his hand with hers before rising slowly to her feet again, slipping her feet out of her shoes as she did. When she returned, she did not want to startle him again with their clatter on the wooden floor.

"I'm gonna get some blood for you, from the kitchen. I'll be right back."

********************************

Blood! Does she mean it? Is she really giving me blood? Oh, please, please let it be true...please...

"Okay, I'm coming back in the living room now..."

He felt a brief flash of fear at the swinging sound of a door opening, but it was almost immediately eased by the increasingly familiar sound of the girl's voice. She was talking loudly from the moment she opened the door, so he knew that the soft footsteps he heard approaching were hers, and she had not hurt him so far, so...

Blood!

Human blood!

Stunned, he raised his head in her direction as his nostrils, now capable of drawing in fragrance as well as breath, caught the sweet, rich scent of warm, human blood. His jaw dropped in surprise, before he swallowed hard, wincing at the tearing pain the action caused even as he struggled to control his desperate desire for the nourishment he knew was so very near.

But...why?

It couldn't be real, had to be a trick of some kind. Perhaps it was drugged, and they wanted him unconscious so they could begin their experiments again. Or perhaps they simply wanted him to drink it, and get better, so they could begin their sadistic games all over again with a fresh, healthy body. He could not suppress a shudder at that thought, despite the warmth of the room, and he crouched down lower against the wall as he sensed her nearing his side.

"Hey," she said softly, and he jumped when her voice revealed that she was nearer than he had expected. She was crouched just in front of him, her voice gentle and soothing as she insisted, "It's okay. It's real...and it's for you. I'm not gonna hurt you, remember? I just want to help you."

He froze as he felt her reaching toward him, and the smell of the blood grew stronger...stronger...

Suddenly, it no longer mattered what the consequences might be for his accepting the dubious gift. He couldn't help but reach out for the source of the scent, his entire body longing, aching for it. His stomach clenched painfully within him, and he doubled over with a pained gasp before he could touch the blood in her hands.

Immediately he felt the comforting touch of her hand on his again, gentle arms guiding him back upright, and then the sensation of warm stone against his lips...a coffee mug.

"It's all right," she soothed him, tipping the cup up slightly and allowing the first trickle of blood to pour into his mouth. "Go easy, or you'll choke..."

Her words went unheeded in his desperation, only intensified by the sudden explosion of rich, nourishing flavor in his mouth. Impatient in his state of starvation, he latched onto the cup, drawing more of the thick liquid into his mouth...and immediately choking on it. He felt the cup begin to draw away, and reached up in a frantic, instinctive gesture to hold onto it, his hand freezing a few inches from the cup as he remembered himself, and the possible consequences for such defiance.

A low, garbled whine sounded in his throat, wordlessly pleading for this longed for sustenance to not be taken away from him, and his brow furrowed in fearful anticipation, as she pulled the cup back, holding it an inch or so away from his mouth. He fully expected to be punished for his presumption. She would take the blood away now, and likely slap him to the floor for daring to contradict her in such a way.

But she didn't.

"Shhh, easy," she whispered. "Take it slow...it's here, and it's yours, all right? Don't rush, you'll just hurt yourself, okay? Take it easy...just like the water. All right?"

Remembering the water, and the all-important fact that she had not taken it away from him, he nodded eagerly, pleadingly, and she returned the cup to his mouth. Slowly, carefully, she fed it to him, until he eventually managed to get the whole cup down. It wasn't much, just a few ounces, but it felt like a five course meal after going so long without.

He couldn't believe that she had given him human blood.

He could feel it in his stomach, tingling, spreading to his other organs and the surrounding tissues, soothing his aching throat as it began the work of healing his damaged body. A great shudder of relief passed through him, with the knowledge that somehow, he had to be out of that...that place, where they had done so many terrible things to him.

He had no idea how she had gotten him away from them, or where she had taken him, or why, for that matter, but he now believed what she had told him. This must be her place, because she seemed to be in control, to make the decisions, here. They would never have allowed him the luxury of fresh, human blood.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude flooded his heart, and he longed to express it to her.

**************************************

Tara dutifully ignored the fact that the blood was human, as she painstakingly fed the vampire, aware that it would likely do him much greater good than mere animal blood. It was bagged, and therefore most likely from a willing donor, so she could be reasonably sure that no one had died for it...though at the moment, she wasn't all that certain it would have made a difference if they had.

He desperately needed it.

She saw the relief in his shuddering posture as she set the empty mug aside, and her heart flooded with compassion for the broken vampire, her eyes welling with fresh tears. Gently, she laid a hand on his arm, offering what support and comfort she could, while doing her best not to further frighten him. With her free hand, she swiped at her tears, as she slowly stroked his battered arm in a soothing manner, carefully avoiding the deep laceration that ran the length of his underarm.

She was alarmed when she felt his cool skin suddenly slide out from under her touch, assuming it had all finally been too much for him and he had passed out on the floor. She opened her eyes, blinking the teary haze away from them...and they widened in stunned disbelief, to see him bowing before her, his face pressed to the floor and his hands in front of him in a humble, supplicating pose.

Horrified, she reached down to draw him back up, when an unexpected sound stilled her movements, and for just an instant, her heart with them. It was the faintest of whispers, barely a breath, and so hoarse that she could scarcely make out the words...but she could make them out, and they sent her tears spilling down her cheeks at the whispered words of gratitude.

"Th-thank you."