asher_talos | [For Danica]

Asher's patience was thinning. He stood on the dock, facing the boat and waiting for Onyx to jump down out of it. Going from steady ground to the boat was never any trouble for the dog, but disembark from it was always a completely different story. It was embarrassing, Onyx whimpering and whining, preparing to make a leap for it only to have the next wave roll in and then back out again, sweeping away any bit of courage he might have gathered.

After a few minutes of watching the pathetic display, Asher usually found that the best incentive to get him moving was usually to abandon him, to just start walking and leave Onyx to fend for himself. The whimpering inevitably got worse, but by the time Asher made it to the end of the dock, Onyx was usually galloping his way up right behind him.

This time wasn't any different.

"Idiot," he said on a breath, almost a little disappointed when there was no sound of a splash, just nails shuffling over the wooden planks of the dock. Then again, the last thing he wanted to be dealing with was the smell of wet dog.

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She did; for a split second as her feet left the ground all the hatred transferred straight to Asher. He was bruising her fucking pride a lot more than any of the wounds were hurting her.

"Put me the fuck down!" Her stature was hardly an advantage when she started kicking but futility and fatigue meant it didn't last long. Threats were all she had left. "I swear to God, if you don't kill him I'll do it myself," she glared, very real fury in her eyes, "and then I'll come back and shoot you." It didn't matter that they both knew the second part wasn't true; it felt good to say.

The red light was still on the camcorder when she deposited it between them. She dropped her head into a hand, only then noticing how big the tear was in her dress, and the scratches and shallow grazes along her stomach. She touched one, brought back blood and grit on her finger, and held her head again, feeling for perhaps the first time in her life genuine shame and embarrassment in public. It made her sick.

"No. And I've got your gun. Again." He couldn't believe her; there she was, practically bleeding to fucking death all over them both and she still had it in her to argue with him. If nothing else, he was just glad the yapping meant she was conscious. He was keeping calm now, but he'd probably lose it if she stopped talking. "Why the fuck do you have a gun? Again."

And why did she keep saying he and not it when it looked like a fucking animal had attacked her?

Danica didn't answer right away; the moving motion was making her nauseous and with nothing to focus on like walking her head was stuffing up, getting dizzy.

She cradled her worst arm into her, held it by the wrist to stop it drooping down lifeless. Just what she needed to stop herself looking retarded... "Because you took my fucking one away from me." She had to get another one from somewhere; she just hadn't known this particular somewhere was going to come back and bite her in the ass.

"I know what I did, Dani!" And maybe he regretted it a little now. If he hadn't taken it away from her, though, someone would have turned up dead months ago, he knew it, and she would have been rotting behind bars for God only knew how long. "That doesn't fucking help me here, okay?" His steps were surer once they were off the uneven sand, and he was able to pick up his pace slightly when he was on a trail. "Where's it from? Who the fuck is he?"

Sure, he could go around shooting males at random, but he only had so many rounds of ammo to get though in his small arsenal, which was now up to three. Besides, if Asher was going to do something, he preferred to get things done right the first time around.

While Danica had thoroughly planned on pretending to pass out just to give her brother a heart attack and thus seek revenge for not putting her back on the fucking floor, she hadn't intended for it to happen so literally. It was like falling asleep, nodding off, her head suddenly dropped back, her arm fell down and Asher slipped away, into the darkness.

She regained consciousness within a few long moments though, pulled herself back out, eyes opening slowly. It was harder to fight it, to concentrate. "He wants it back." It was ironic how, after centuries of being a vampire, the sight and loss of her own blood could affect her so strongly. With her head now propped against Asher's shoulder, she felt her eyes slip shut again but this time there was the image of the masked man behind the lids and the rage she felt kept her just the right side of conscious. "Video." If he heard it, that one tiny, little word would tell him all he needed to know. Fuck the details.

Asher could hear his own heart thundering in his ears even over all of his swearing and shouting her name when Danica had gone limp. Relief didn't even begin to explain what he felt when she finally snapped back. "Fuck. Don't do that again, Dan. Do not. We're almost there. Just stay awake."

The video, what this guy wanted back, he'd worry about deciphering what all of that meant once she was taken care of.

Though it seemed like forever to him, it wasn't too long before he reached the clinic, the doctor on duty whipping into action relatively quickly despite undoubtedly being caught off guard. It probably wasn't the sort of case that cropped up on the everyday on the island, but instincts like that probably never really went away. Ordinarily, Asher's head would have been on straight around that much blood, too, but not when it belonged to his sister.

Danica was dismayed to discover Asher wasn't putting her on her feet like she'd demanded. Instead, she lay on her back, disoriented and in pain, and yet the only thing she could think about was how hilariously ironic it would be if Asher killed the man with his own gun. Her laugh was short and low, forced out of its own accord between shaky breaths. As quick as it had come it was gone, leaving behind only an achy chest from the effort. He wouldn't have a clue what was coming him... Danica felt a twinge of delight. "It's my fucking gun now," she insisted tiredly, in between futile attempts to pull away from the doctor, because in her head, it was her she could see lifting, aiming and firing and she had never missed twice.

[For Danica]

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