Chapter One - Tag Team - An Other Sanctuary

I’m not sure what I should think about this, thought Karla Hawke as she unpacked her clothing.

Unmarked boxes were strewn about the cavernous chamber that now served as her bedroom. It was more space than she needed, even her king-size four-poster bed looked rather lost in the dark interior.

Despite the strangeness of it all, she couldn't find it within herself to complain. The abandoned church had all but kidnapped her, quite literally when she needed shelter the most.      

After being chased down by her psychotic older brother Jayce, Karla had discovered herself on a stretch of property protected by a cast iron fence that seemed to repel mentally disturbed, murderous, individuals. Bully for her.

It was much later, after she’d regained consciousness, that she’d found her way to this abandoned church where she’d discovered her belongings had mysteriously been collected. To date she had failed to come across any individual or, group of people who could have explained the logistics. Like getting her monster four-poster up an immeasurable flight of winding tower stairs; or, who was she kidding, any of her stuff out of the highly secure Smoking Lily Café where her friends and former co-workers, the Furies, had their base of operations.  

Impossible, she thought for the thousandth time.

Karla sat back on her heels and decided it was time for a break.

She folded up the empty boxes and carried them down the physics defying tower. It opened up into what would have been the chancel and then onto the altar stage. She dumped the flattened boxes onto the increasing pile already growing there.

The light coming in the tall stained glass windows was dark and verdant. The weakness of the light signaled the end of the day was rapidly approaching; the lush color came from the tree-of-life images interposed on the windows. Beautiful, and Karla guessed, not typical imagery for a house of worship. One more mystery she had to sleep on.

She was getting quite the chill. The misleading warmth of early spring days made a wardrobe change necessary. Her black origami blouse with its V-neck drape was little more than a hopeful statement. Karla found a sweater and pulled it on with a grateful shiver.

She continued through a hallway to her left which led to a kitchen in the back of the chancel. It followed the back of the church, so it was long and galley-like, with large greenhouse windows. First thing in the morning, with the full strength of the sun, it was a beautiful spot to chase away the darkness of her nightmares. The windows looked out over the back property where an overgrown garden lay surrounded by a sentinel of tall oak and hemlock trees.

Turning the kettle on, Karla leaned against the counter and looked out at the darkening view. The sky looked darker than just approaching evening dark. Those clouds look like they hold thunder, she thought to herself. I’m in for an atmospheric evening alone.

Now all she needed for this horror movie-thon was for her phone line to be cut or dead. Karla superstitiously picked up the ancient cord-phone attached to the wall by the doorway and was reassured by the dial-tone. Not that she’d call anyone.

She put the hand set in the cradle carefully and purposefully, thinking of the last person she’d called.

Poor Bryan. He’d probably given up searching for her by now. Then she rolled her eyes for thinking it. This was Bryan she was thinking about. Giving up was not in his DNA.

That was good right?

Sure. If having another man as persistent and in love with her as her boyfriend try to track her down with the equally mislead idea he could keep her safe from her enemies was a good thing.

She should probably stay here forever.

Karla sighed.

She stood on her tiptoes to reach for a teacup on a higher shelf. She cradled it carefully as she brought it down and rinsed it out with hot water. Then she poured the freshly boiled water over the bag of chai tea the church had seen fit to stock the pantry with, among other things.

Talk about creepy.

She loved chai tea.

It wasn’t that she was mad at her friends, or her band of brothers (maybe a little—at her sister—that slap, hurt!). She wasn’t. She wasn’t upset with them either.

She told herself she was protecting them.

The air was cold and damp. The sound of street traffic was muffled by the close-pressed walls of the short alleyway. Hot motorcycle engines pinged as they cooled slightly, in wait for the return of their riders.

The solitary flare of a cigarette was followed by a subdued cough. A lone lookout remained behind to guard the doorway of a dark warehouse. He folded his arms over his chest and took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke slowly. The figure of a stalking Panther on his shoulder identified which gang he belonged to.

There was a slight whisper of disturbed air. It was the only warning the lookout was given to indicate anything was amiss. Before he even had a chance to process that the sound was a threat, something dark and heavy landed in front of him.

A gloved fist smashed directly into his startled face and he dropped like a stone.

A darkly swathed figure stepped over the prone body at his feet, making sure there were no others. As he guessed, there weren’t. Cocky. He smiled humorlessly behind his balaclava.

He raised his arm with an open hand and gave the ‘all clear’ to the others. They dropped silently behind him. Five figures; four men and one woman.

Without a word, verbal or otherwise, they fanned out amongst the unguarded bikes.

When the door was finally pushed open a short while later, the first Steel Panther to stumble over the unconscious gang member at the threshold raised the alarm with a shout. The others were quick to follow, arming themselves as they spread out on either side of the entrance. As the scene before them sank in to their horrified eyes, they were extra careful to leave space for the final two men to exit the building. Avoiding eye contact at all costs, the gang made sure to keep their expressions blank.

A loaded silence followed.

“—the FUCK?!” Jayce exploded.

He strode to his Harley in disbelief and grabbed a handful of the pink ribbons decorating his handlebars. His nostrils flared as the ribbons resisted his furious attempt to swipe them off. They had been epoxied to the leather guard.

His growl morphed into a roar of fury. His custom VRSCDX Night Rod Special was covered in quickly drying pink spray paint and decorated like a Powder Puff girl’s tricycle complete with streamers and a white wicker doll basket on the front.

Jayce whipped around and spoke through tightly clenched teeth. “Who is responsible for this?” His narrowed eyes flashed silver and the men silently, but clearly acting in self-preservation, stepped away from the unconscious member on the ground. Jayce pulled his M9 from the inside of his jacket and fired two shots into the unlucky man’s head.

The report echoed with finality.

“Are you finished?” the gang leader, Jake, interrupted with a bored drawl.

Jayce responded with a snarl just as Golden stepped up to Jake, adjusting his earpiece. “Boss, we’ve got incoming. Someone alerted the Police to our location—”

“FUCK!” Jayce blew up.

Realizing that they had to move fast in order to transport their shipment of Applejack if they didn’t want it to be seized, Jayce knew his ride would have to be abandoned. There was no way in HELL he was going to drive it in this condition.

He knew exactly who did it.  Jayce raised his silver eyes to the empty rooftop above. There was no mistaking who the perpetrators were. *Prepare to pay in blood!* Jayce broadcasted to his family members. He made sure to follow his missive with a blast of energy. His telepathic message would pack a wallop, even if he couldn't deliver it in person.

Then Jayce angrily kicked over his freshly painted Harley and stalked over to the next closest bike, shoving on his helmet. “KEYS!” he bellowed. The owner of the bike quickly surrendered them, not wanting to be the next pulpy smear on the pavement. Nobody was about to argue with him.

And no one was going to volunteer that there was a tail of pastel ribbons hanging down the back of his helmet.

As the gang assembled themselves for a quick retreat, Jayce’s silver eyes gleamed maliciously behind his face helm. *You’re gonna fucking die you little shits!*

A block away, safely on the rooftop of an abandoned tenement building, a circle of high-fives celebrated the success of their sabotage.

The thunderstorm raged outside like a trapped wild animal. The dark bedroom lit up with eerie bluish light with every lightning flash. Rain slicked down the tall arched windows in sheets, casting snaking shadows against the stone walls. In the four poster bed, a lonely figure tossed restlessly. Hopelessly tangled in the sheets, she threw her arms over her head in an effort to fight of an invisible attacker. Karla’s long black hair swirled over her pillows in her distress.

Her whimpers were lost in the storm. There was no one to hear her and wake her up. She was alone and so the nightmare continued,

Jake had her by the chin. He forced her to look him in his eyes which were switching from blue to black in dizzying fashion. If she blinked she wasn't sure if it was Jayce or Jake standing before her. Her heart didn't care which man it was, it jackhammered all the same.

“Let me go,” she pleaded with him/them.

A patronizing smile curled his lips. “Why? You have no one left to run to. Don’t you remember, Karla? You've been forgotten.” He tucked her under his arm and bent his head into the crook of her neck. The heat of his breath made her shudder in aversion.

“No--!” she said. He heard the uncertainty in her voice and she could feel his smile against her shoulder. He nipped the skin there hard enough that tears sprang to her eyes.

“See for yourself—!”

The setting before her changed to that she was looking at a streetscape. She saw her twin Scott, her boyfriend Kidd, and the other band members of Cu Annwn descending down the entrance of Kidd’s apartment. It was clear that they were helping Kidd move. They were carrying on and obviously light hearted. Karla knew looking at the guileless blue of her love’s eyes that he had nothing holding him to the city. The band was moving on, and Scott was clearly going with them.

Though maybe she should feel some selfless sense of relief that they were safe from the troubles she brought, but the sight of Kidd packing up with a sense of indifference was like a knife to her belly. She didn't mean to but the low moan that rose from her throat alerted her companion to her state.

Jayce spun her around and since her line of sight was at the top of his chest, the first thing she saw was her necklace with Kidd’s dragon ring. “Like it?” he rumbled, “The previous owner said he didn't need it anymore.”

Her throat ached to see it in his possession. “Liar!” she denied.

“In fact I’m the only one who remembers you at all,” Jake said smugly. He pinned her down on the bed, his hand held her down by the back of her neck. She could feel his hot gaze sweep over her, lingering until she wanted to scream.

Then she was on her back. Jayce was tugging at her breasts and the Applejack was making her squirm. The words that spilled from her lips were incoherent and babbling but she knew that she was begging him. The shame was burning her cheeks but she had no control over what she was saying--

“Or do you?” Jayce hinted with a devilish gleam. “Maybe it’s just. . .”

“. . . because you've always wanted me,” Jake was tugging at the fly of his pants, “but you couldn’t admit your deepest darkest secret to yourself.”

“Don’t--!” Karla’s breath hitched. Her eyes were wide.

“So soft--!” he made a groan as his hands explored her body.

“I have you all to myself--!”his gravelly voice purred.

She pushed at his smothering arms.

“No!!” she screamed.

Karla sat up in bed, her scream trailing off into a whimper. Her eyes were wild and darted from shadow to shadow in terror. Her breathing was harsh and short, caught up in the horror of the nightmare. It was a long panicky moment before she remembered where she was.

She covered her face with her hands and rocked back and forth. It was a dream, she chanted like a mantra. Only a dream.

The sickening memory of the twisting features of her captors made her want to throw up, though she had nothing in her belly to do so. It took all her concentration to blank her mind, and calm and center herself.

Slowly the minutes ticked by and her heart began to settle.

The storm raged on outside, lashing the windows with branches and rain. Karla huddled under her covers, watching the lightning flash against the wall. Each illumination reinforced the fact that she was alone and there was no one in the vast room other than herself. There is nowhere for anyone to hide, she consoled herself. Then her eyes widened. Except for under the bed.

I did not just think that, she scolded herself.

Nevertheless she wouldn't let herself relax until she took an upside down peek.

She backed herself up until she was huddled against her headboard. She was too frightened to go back to sleep. She wasn't going to chance a return of her nightmare. It was too fresh, too real.

Watching the rain she was soon lulled into a half-aware state.

It was broken by a sudden and all too familiar rush of heat between her thighs. Karla gasped and jerked upright. She reacted as though she’d been injected with Applejack.

Did I fall asleep again? She wondered in confusion. Am I dreaming?

The coil of heat released a flood of wetness between her legs that left her certain of her sudden arousal. Karla hunched over, gasping as her skin suddenly became ultra-sensitive. The soft weight of her cotton nightshirt brushing over her pebbling nipples forced moan from her lips. She fisted her sheets against the overwhelming urge to touch herself.

What’s going on?She agonized. This can’t be happening--!

*But it is.*

She froze at the familiar intrusion. Karla’s dilating eyes swept the room again for her brother only to find herself still alone.

*Did you think you’re fortress would protect you?* Jayce’s voice sounded amused.

At the sound of him inside her head, Karla’s nausea redoubled. It was like he was a black, oily, miasma crawling through her blood. It felt as though he had invaded every cell, every breath until there was nothing left of herself. He had her soul in the palm of his hands and he made it clear he planned to make her squirm.

She tried to block him out. Leave me alone! She willed.

*Ah, ah, ah!* Jayce admonished her, *You know you can’t fight me.*

Karla’s eyes swam. *I will! I will until your drug wears off!* She tried to be defiant.

She sensed Jayce was laughing. A cold feeling settled over her.

*It has already worn off, little sister!*

His words made no sense.

Not until he showed her an image of him injecting himself with the drug. Karla’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand what he was showing her. It was so hard to think, her skin was becoming so painfully sensitive to the slightest movement, it distracted her. Even breathing was making her clit throb.

Her state seemed to amuse him further. He was amused and . . . aroused. Karla’s eyes flew open wider. *How did you--? No--!”*

*We are connected, you and I.* Jayce baited her.

*No!*

*We’ve shared more than blood now . . .*

She understood. Gods help her. She knew what he had done.

It was the same way he had manipulated her to let him into the Café. The way he was able to draw Scott out of bed to unknowingly witness her degradation.  Jayce was able to take over motor function with a push of his energy, a twist of his will. But with her . . . with her because of what they had done he had an extra binding influence. He’d made it clear already that he could sense her innermost thoughts. Now he was telling her that if he wanted to share a dose of Applejack with her, he only had to open the link and its influence would flow through.

“NO!” Karla cried from deep within. It was a wounded sound.

Her heart turned to ice. She threw her arms at the mattress and swept everything off the bed. She was weeping. Nothing in the world could console her.

*Now,*his voice turned hard, *be a good little girl and come outside . . . *

He was waiting for her. Karla knew he was out there. She closed her eyes against a tide of blackest despair. She couldn’t lose the faint hope that she had been given along with her mysterious sanctuary, not so soon!

I can’t, Karla realized with a strange settling stillness. The thought resonated from somewhere deep within. It was soothingly final. I can’t do what he wants.

She scrambled out of bed and started tearing through her dresser. She was only half-aware of what she was searching for since the Applejack already had such a pull on her. She had to act fast.

Karla didn’t realize how bad it was until she found herself in the bedroom doorway, clutching the frame without any memory of crossing the room.

Jayce was taking over. Her pulse trilled with fear.

However, in her other hand she had the item she’d been searching for. A pair of hand cuffs.

Lucy had given them to her as a prank while Karla was still in the Café under Bryan’s watchful eye. Her youngest siblings scorn and distrust of the police was epically clear and even though the handcuffs were in bad taste due to what she had recently gone through, Karla knew that they were meant as a warning to symbolize what Bryan stood for, and not so much as a suggestion to use them.

Without wasting any more time, Karla snapped one cuff to her wrist and the other to one of the solid posts of her canopy bed. She didn't care that it meant she would likely starve to death alone in her bed. She’d reached the conclusion that she’d rather that than let Jayce win.

She suffered a wave of fury when Jayce realized she’d thwarted him.

*You don’t seem to understand, baby girl,* Jayce finally said. His tone was grim. *The weaker you get the more control you give me. I’ll have you eventually. And you won’t like what making me wait will do to you in the end.*

*For now just make yourself comfortable. It’s gonna be a long night.*

Karla didn’t respond. She was already in hell.

She found herself sitting on the stone floor in the middle of the bedroom, her legs folded on either side of her hips, her hands lying limply in her lap. Karla blinked slowly as her surroundings came back into focus. She felt like she was rising to the surface after being held under water.

As the breath slipped from her lips in a long sigh, she looked down at her hands. With a jolt of awareness she noticed the dark ribbons that flowed down her pale arms were not her hair as she first believed. Instead they were from deep gashes that looked self-inflicted. The coppery scent of blood finally reached her through the curtain of numbness and she let out a low moan.

Jayce. He was trying to make me go to him . . .

Karla knew she should move; take care of the ruin she had made of her arms but everything felt so heavy. The draw to slip back into blessed unconsciousness was very tempting. However something else was begging her attention. There was motion flickering at the edges of her vision. She lolled her head to the side weakly and noticed for the first time the large hulking creatures anxiously pacing the room.

If she hadn't been so depleted of energy, the sight of the large hounds in her bedroom would have been cause for alarm. It was all she could do to stare at the pair of them in confusion.     

They were so big that Karla thought dimly that she must be hallucinating. They dwarfed her in comparison. Their oval eyes shone like silver mirrors as they watched her closely. The hounds had large heads with long muzzles and jaws that looked strong. She strangely felt no threat. When the hounds realized they had her attention they lowered their shaggy heads at her and began to make a sound. A plaintive whine.

“Where’d you come from?” Karla whispered, swallowing weakly.

At the sound of her voice, the hounds loped closer and she found herself in close contact with their snow white coats of rough wiry hair. One lay down in front of her with a heavy thump and the other leaned carefully against her back. It seemed as though they were trying to help get her up off the floor.

The one lying down turned its head back and licked at her fingers encouragingly.

“Okay,” Karla muttered, “I’ve obviously lost my mind.”

The second hound wuffed a wet breath in her ear and Karla made a face. Bleagh.

Afterwards, she wouldn't remember how she actually made it off the floor. She focused on her hands, curled tightly in the dog’s coat, smearing her crimson blood in its pristine hair until she found herself on her feet, trembling with the effort to keep herself upright. The strange dogs were so tall that she easily rested her arms on its back. Her helper braced its legs to support her weight and together they began the slow stumbling process of crossing the room towards her bed.

She collapsed onto the mattress gratefully and once more fought the urge to pass out. I have to stop the bleeding, she thought wispily. Everything had a grayish cast to it. The hounds seemed to glow with an otherworldly light.

With no strength left to rummage through her belongings for first aid supplies, Karla’s fingers closed around the sheet beneath her. She rolled over onto her back and tried to rip a strip from the material to use as a makeshift bandage. She only managed to smear her blood as her fingers slipped weakly against the silky material. Her arms dropped to the bed and she wearily tried to think of another plan.

Something cold and hard was pressing into her hip, distracting her. She shifted until she could pull it out from under her and then she stared at the object uncomprehending. It was what remained of the handcuffs she’d locked herself to the bedpost with. They were twisted and warped. Melted.

A feeling of cold dread settled over her. Somehow she had broken free during Jayce’s control last night. But instead of walking right back into his grasp, as he predicted, she had woken up still in her room. With ghost dogs.

She was so tired she couldn't make sense of her thoughts. Her eyes were drawn back to the hounds and watched, bemused, as they seemed to be playing tug of war with the sheet she’d been struggling with. It was gripped in their strong jaws and they jerked and growled over it.

“Hey!” she called out faintly, “I need that!”

With a sudden tearing sound, the fabric gave under their tugging. One looked up at her with the scrap of material still clenched in its teeth. Eerily it looked like it was giving her a canine smile.

With a sense of awe, Karla accepted the offering and didn't waste any more time. She began to wrap her arms tightly with the strips that the dogs managed to rend for her. It wasn't an artistic job by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed to do the trick.

That much finished, Karla sank back into the mattress. She’d used the last of her strength to bind her arms. Her pulse fluttered rapidly in her throat as her heart struggled with the blood loss. She hoped it would be enough. There was no way she could go for help in this condition and she didn't dare try telepathy.

The hounds crawled up on the bed, flanking her on either side. She felt a wet nose nudge itself under her arm and felt another large head work its way against her ribs. Karla was already drifting as they made themselves comfortable around her. “Good dogs,” she murmured, “need sleep now--”

And then she was gone.

The clerk looked up from his magazine to watch the woman enter the store. She wasn't wearing anything particularly eye catching, just outfitted in a red sweater dress, a man’s jean jacket and shades but he still found himself sizing up the sweet curve of her ass as she slowly passed him.

He was unashamedly leaning over the counter, ogling, when the two dogs silently trailing her made themselves known. A low, almost subsonic growl from the nearest grey giant made the hairs prickle painfully on the back of his arms and neck. The clerk scrambled back behind the counter to put himself at a respectable distance from the dog’s massive jaws.

He opened his mouth to say something to the woman about no dogs allowed in the store when one of the hounds turned its intimidating stare on him. His teeth clicked together as he abruptly changed his mind.

She returned to the counter with her goods and the clerk didn’t even bother to notice the rigid way she held herself, or the way she fumbled clumsily for her card. He quickly scanned the packages and bottles while keeping a vigilant eye on the dogs that settled on either side of the customer.

He only let himself relax after she was gone, taking her threatening companions with her. Time for a smoke break, he thought to himself. The feeling that he’d just narrowly escaped physical harm was hard to shake.

Heading to a corner store Bryan tossed his keys absently as he went over the list of things he needed to pick up; Advil, instant coffee (he was boycotting the Smoking Lily Café, still pissed that they hadn't kept him up to date on Karla) today’s newspaper, toothpaste . . .

As he came around the corner of the building he instantly recognized the retreating figure ahead of him. No time to wonder at his good luck, he broke into a run to catch up with her. He was not going to let Karla out of his sight this time.

Just as she was about to cross the street, Bryan reached out and grabbed her forearm. “Kar--!”

She let out an unmistakable gasp of pain. He wasn't prepared to see Karla’s knees buckle at the contact but he managed to catch her under the arms as she dropped. “What the f--?!”

Her head rolled back against his chest. She looked as though she was about to faint. “What’s wrong?” he asked her anxiously. He watched as her lips moved but her response was inaudible. Cursing, Bryan slipped his arms under her knees and lifted her up, bridal style.  Karla revived enough to weakly struggle with him.

“No!” she burst out. She reached for the bags she’d dropped on the ground.

“Shh, it’s okay. I got ‘em!” Bryan tried to reassure her. He scooped up her bags.

He’d parked his car up the street a little. Once there he set her down on the reclining passenger seat and grabbed his bottle of water. “C’mon Kitten, can you take a sip for me?” he encouraged her, holding the bottle to her lips. He watched the muscles in her throat work as she swallowed weakly. “Hang on, I’m just going to make you more comfortable . . .” Bryan kept talking as he unbuttoned her jacket.

Karla stirred, “d-don’t . . .” she croaked.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. The buttons undone, he began to pull the jacket down her shoulders.

Suddenly Karla convulsed. Her whimper was cut off as she sagged into the seat out cold.

“What the fuck?!” Bryan exclaimed. He had a sinking feeling. What did I just do?

When the jacket came off he saw too late the clumsily fixed bandages that wrapped around her arms.

She was injured.

“Aw, no!” he groaned. He realized what he must have done to her by grabbing her and then pulling at her jacket. Nothing like inflicting pain to get a girl’s attention, he reproved. “I’m taking you back to my place,” he said grimly.

This is getting to be a habit, Bryan thought as he returned to his apartment with Karla in his arms. He nudged his bedroom door open with a toe and carefully eased her onto his rumpled bed. She remained unconscious the whole time.

Bryan searched her bags. Tight-lipped he unpacked the bandages and bottles of Gatorade that she purchased. Then he gently removed her old bandages, hissing in sympathy when he saw her wounds for the first time. There were long, deep, claw marks down the insides of her arms which looked self-inflicted. The flesh surrounding her wrists was raw and gouged; the skin was dark with horrible looking bruising. The muscles in Bryan’s jaw flexed at the evidence of her mental pain. For the billionth time, he wished two Steel Panthers in particular would cross his path.

At least she remained unconscious while he cleaned the wounds. Removing her bandages restarted the bleeding but it was minimal. Bryan grimly stitched them up and re-bandaged her arms with swaths of unbleached cotton. He had no idea how she figured she was going to do it all on her own.

“Stubborn little witch,” he grumbled under his breath. He disposed of the rags she’d worn. She was dehydrated and her pulse was thready from the loss of blood but he let her sleep while keeping a watchful eye on her. He planned to feed her the much needed electrolytes when she woke up.

Easing himself next to her in the bed, he cradled her in his arms just like they’d done before, at the Café. He used the excuse that she had to be cold, which she was in comparison to his natural heat.

There was an undeniable sense of relief at Karla’s slight weight pressing against him and the exhale of her soft breath on his bare forearm. Time ticked by as he contented himself with watching her breathe. At the annoying urge from his conscience, he recalled the deal he had made should he happen to find her. With his free hand he fished out his cell phone from his back pocket and dialed a number. “I have her at my place,” he said in a brusque voice. Not waiting for a response, having used the extent of his geniality, he ended the call and tossed the phone on his night table.

The door was unlocked. Kidd went straight through the quiet apartment towards the bedroom where he knew he would find them. He had mixed feelings about this arrangement and was further tested when he got one look at the pair on the bed. It was one thing to have to see it at the Smoking Lily; it was a completely different issue seeing his girlfriend in another man’s bed. Kidd exchanged a freezing cold glare with Bryan who had raised his head slightly at his approach.

Kidd reassured himself that Karla was only sleeping; but lying in Bryan’s arms she looked like she was naked underneath the blanket. His blood began to boil. His fists clenched and unclenched impatiently as Bryan heaved a suffering sigh and extricated himself from Karla’s side.

They both crashed into the opposite wall in the hallway as Kidd hurled a fist into Bryan’s face. Bryan was expecting it and ducked his head to the side in time. A low angry growl started rumbling from Bryan’s chest as he grabbed Kidd’s t-shirt in his fists and pinned him against the wall.

“What did you do to her?!” Kidd demanded, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“Have the sense to ask questions before you fly off--!” Bryan snarled into the singer’s face. “She’s injured!” He couldn't help adding with a confident smirk, “When she chooses me over you it will be when she’s all in one piece!”

He was not expecting Kidd’s sudden bark of laughter. Kidd clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he deadpanned in his rich voice.

Shaking his head and shouldering Bryan out of his way, Kidd entered the bedroom where Karla was still asleep. His eyes narrowed as Karla’s bandages came into sight. He had missed that detail in his enthusiasm to jump to conclusion. He tried to swallow his jealousy.

“Where did you find her?” Kidd bit out.

Bryan was behind him, “Outside the corner store on 45^th.”  He omitted the part where he’d been the instrument of her unconsciousness.

The two men stared each other down on either side of the bed; blue eyes and golden. Karla slept on unawares.

“Are we going to do this like we agreed?” Bryan broke the loaded silence first, “‘cause this doesn't look much like teamwork.”

Kidd shrugged, “I’m not your friend.”

Bryan’s lips stretched in a parody of a grin, “Who said I wanted to be friends?”

“Fine.”

“We do this for her.”

They sized each other up silently. Finally Kidd gave a reluctant nod. He looked down at Karla. His eyes softened. “She looks cold.”

“She lost a lot of blood,” Bryan explained.

“How?” Kidd asked quietly.

Bryan’s lips tightened, “She tore up her arms. I had to stitch them up.”

Kidd countenance darkened. He reached out and gently caressed Karla’s pale cheek. A sigh trembled from her lips at his touch but she still didn't wake.

Bryan watched from the other side of the bed. “We should try to get some fluids into her.” He held up the bottle of Gatorade. Kidd agreed.

Propping Karla’s head on his thigh, Bryan held the bottle to her lips and tilted it carefully so that she had enough fluid to moisten her lips and her mouth. She swallowed convulsively and he was able to feed her a few mouthfuls. They had to be content with that for now. Bryan set the bottle down on the night table.

Kidd resettled the blankets around Karla’s shoulders. Then with nothing to do but wait, he slipped in behind her and carefully placed a hand on her covered hip. He hoped it wasn't enough contact to cause a flashback, but enough to comfort. Bryan followed suit on her other side and made as if he was going to have his own nap.

The two men did their best to ignore each other.

“Now we do something Karla isn't expecting,”

“What’s that?”

“We team up on her ass.”

Bryan jerked awake when he felt the body next to him begin to stir. He raised his head and blinked at the sight of Karla’s face drawn up into a frown. If that’s not the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen, he caught himself thinking. Then his eyes met Kidd’s and that train of thought skidded to a halt.

Karla murmured. He thought it sounded like a protest but no more serious than not wanting to wake up. Her fingers twitched as she automatically sought to shift position, probably to turn over. Bryan saw her responding grimace of pain.

“Mmm . . . bad dogs,” she scolded her voice a sleepy husk.

Kidd’s head jerked back.

Whaa? Bryan met Kidd’s bewildered expression with his own. Dogs?

Her body suddenly went still as she clearly realized she wasn't alone. Both men kept absolutely still at her fearful reaction. Bryan was used to it having spent all that time with her in recovery and waited patiently as Karla oriented herself. His jaw flexed as he could only imagine what she was thinking, finding herself in a bed with two others.

It seemed like ages before she opened her eyes slowly and turned her head. The first person she saw was Kidd. As their eyes met Bryan could feel the mood in the room change from one charged with fear to another kind of electricity. Her head whipped around to see Bryan on her other side. He gave her a sheepish grin.

“What—what the hell?” she croaked. Her gaze took in Bryan’s bedroom. “How did I get here?”

Bryan scratched his head awkwardly. He didn't want to bring up how he’d snatched her. Karla was staring at him when he saw the memory surface in her eyes. She struggled to sit up and he let her go reluctantly. She righted herself with a huff and gazed down at her bandaged arms.

“Right,” she said wearily.

“Can I get you anything babe?” Kidd quietly asked her.

Karla’s eyes narrowed perceptively, “What are you doing here?” she asked suspiciously.

Kidd avoided her gaze and stood up, “I’ll go . . . uh, get you something to drink.”

Oh great, Bryan thought ungratefully as she turned purposefully towards him as Kidd backed out of the room.

“Bryan--?” Karla started warningly.

“What?!” he reacted defensively, “I’m just supposed to leave you there bleeding on the sidewalk?! No way lady!”

Karla ignored his attempt to steer the conversation. “Kidd, Bryan. What the hell is he doing here?!” Alarm suddenly flashed across her face, “How many others did you tell?!” Bryan heard the panic in her voice and grabbed her as she tried to bounce herself from the bed.

“Hey! Whoa there! Nobody else knows--!”

She was too drained to fight the strong paws he clapped on her shoulders but she glared at him with anger flushing her pale face.

“Look, we just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explained seriously.

“I was doing fine before you put your blockhead hands on me!” Karla snapped.

Bryan’s temper boiled to the surface, “Oh yeah! Remind me what a great job you’re doing at keeping out of trouble!”

They stared hard at each other. He saw Karla sway and grumbled under his breath, “C’mon, lay down. Looks like you've had a rough time.”

With a reluctant glare she allowed him to fluff the pillows behind her back and sank back into the softness with a grateful sigh.

Kidd returned to the bedroom with a tall glass which he filled with Gatorade.  He visibly hesitated before handing it over, eyeing Karla’s bandages dubiously.

“Don’t even think about trying to feed me,” Karla snarked, “I can hold the damn glass!”

To prove her point she raised it with both hands and took a couple of long draughts.

Once the glass was empty Bryan muttered to Kidd, “Please tell me you fed her a tranquilizer.”

Karla heard him and started to cough, “W-what?” she sputtered.

Rolling his eyes at Bryan’s teasing, Kidd held up his hands to forestall any more accusations. “Of course I didn’t, Karla, I sw . . .” He barely had a chance to finish his sentence when Karla’s head dropped back onto the pillows with a muffled “ff--” and her eyelids shuttered closed.

Bryan nimbly caught the glass as Karla’s fingers relaxed. “But I did.”

Kidd winced, “You know she’ll kill you for that,” he said matter of fact. Then his expression lightened, “You just made my day! Thanks mate!”

Shrugging, Bryan tucked the blankets around her once more. “Except she thinks it was you,” he pointed out helpfully.

Kidd shrugged wryly, “She needs to rest, not fight.”

“And I need to eat,” Bryan grumbled. “She can throw a fit all she wants after I have a full stomach.”

Throwing a wary glance at his girlfriend from the doorway, Kidd wondered how long it would take Karla to recover from the sedative. He didn't know how much Bryan had seen of her self-healing abilities or her resistance to regular drug doses. He’d have to keep alert and make sure she didn’t slip out when they weren't watching.

A slightly peeved voice carried down the hallway, “I am not feeding you for free so you better have a master plan to go with your shining personality.”

Kidd sighed. What did I get myself into? he wondered.