Road to Recovery 5
August 5, 2004
She rolled over onto her right side, deep into a dream of a far–away land. Billowing white clouds slowly drifted across a deep blue sky, gently masking the tops of snow covered mountains. Rich fertile land was covered with lush vegetation, providing both cover and nourishment for the numerous species that relied upon the forest for survival. Smiling at the beautiful sight, Barbara Neal snuggled further into her bedcovers, unconsciously trying to get away from the crisp cool air that dominated her dreams.
Such a lovely idea, a holiday. Bush walking, canoeing, even just wandering around aimlessly would be nice. Be good to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Just forget about everyone else´s troubles for a few weeks. Somewhere in the country, another state would be better, no one could disturb her if she was a few days drive away. With a snort and a half snuffle, the greying woman moved her legs into a more pleasing position as she dreamt of climbing one of the snowcapped peaks. God, if only to stand still for just one moment, nothing to harass her for even a second. Another snort and the therapist started to wave goodbye to the quiet countryside as she left the world of R.E.M.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BE....
A moan drifted through the messy bedroom as Barbara wearily lifted a hand to turn off the persistent alarm beside her bed. Momentarily stunned that it was already time to wake up, she double checked with her watch that it really was 8.30am. For the last 2 weeks, she had been sleeping more and more but it seemed like it was never enough. Maybe she was just getting burnt out and needed some rest. All her dreams lately were of exotic locations far away from L.A. Her dream last night had been filled with crumbling stone temples and long balmy nights. The lure of Bali and evenings filled with outlandish cocktails was beginning to wear her down although going rock climbing in New Zealand was equally appealing.
Bed covers thrown back, she sat up and swung her feet down onto the polished floor boards. An dry hand ran through knotted hair as the older woman contemplated a week of nothing but massages, spas and facials. A holiday, hmmmm? Yes..yes. She was going to do it. Where though? No matter, she would just have to go out during lunch and pick up some brochures. Something overseas was sounding really good, maybe a cruise around Fiji, The Isle of Pines and Tonga would do the trick?
Thankfully it wouldn´t be that hard to re–shuffle her patients. She had taken no one new since Christopher and Xander so it wouldn´t be like she was angsting out anyone just starting therapy. She would send Xander down to Father Scheider for the time she was going to be away, that way he could still receive some sort of therapy. The change of scenery would be good for him as well. Christopher might as well just stay at the Hyperion for all the good her sessions were doing. The man was hell bent on ignoring his years at the brothel and just enjoying his time morphed as a child, not that Barbara could blame him.
Stretching and popping her tired body, she scratched at her backside, pulling out the wedgie her pajama bottoms had decided to grace her with. Actually, she should get all the boys to visit the Christian order. Robin might still be a problem but knowing that all the other boys were going as well might just be the incentive the youth needed to step out into open air again. She would have to talk with Father Scheider, Mr Giles and the other therapist, Mr Hunt. Barbara was sure that they would agree to it, even if they didn´t, she would still send Xander to the order with his support person. How a vampire was going to cope being in holy grounds, she didn´t really know but something would be figured out. It would have to be, she was going to go on holidays for 21 days in just over 2 weeks.
She just wanted to run away from everything right now but she knew that everything had to be sorted out in L.A. before she could do that. Where she was going to go was really the most important question at the moment. Taking a few steps towards the bedroom door, the still sleepy woman didn´t notice the dissipating mauve vapour swirling around underneath her bed. The same mist that had visited her each night for the last two weeks.
25 August 2004.
It was the bloody silence that first warned me that something was wrong. None of that bloody bints screeching, Wankley wasn´t wafting around trying to impress Broody Bastard with his knowledge, I couldn´t hear him prattling on. My Sire was in a mood, that went without even saying. I could feel the intense brood all the way up to the recently renovated library on the first floor. The itch started right around in my nape, and slowly crept its way down my spine, welling in the space just above my arse. Something was really wrong, and I wanted to know right there and then.
So, with a quick glance at the sleeping whelp, I carefully got up from the edge of the sofa he had fallen asleep on, hoping that he would be alright for a few minutes. I figured that he would be right for about ten minutes in between nightmares. Enough time to find out what was causing this itch and to grab a beer and mug of blood. Down the steps I went, into the deep silence of the lobby. I could smell salt tainting the air, the closer I got to the foyer. Tears and unhappiness reigned the darkness.
It didn´t feel right to holler out a question of what was going on. I can´t explain it, it just wasn´t *right*. The itch was getting worse and with a hand shoved down the back of my pants for once, I both scratched and walked to the counter. Peering over the edge, I saw the Mincing Poof, Screams Like Woman and Slag sitting in complete silence. Nothing, no fuck off Spike or why did you leave Xander alone, nothing. Where the half breed was, I had no idea. With a another scratch and a few sniffs of the air, I could smell that the bint was crying. Why? I just had to ask, so I did. The answer I got was a surprise.
Car accident.
Drink driving.
Dead on arrival at the hospital.
Giles.
Fuck! The last person I ever expected to go out with a bang, literally. I always thought that he would be the last of the Scraggy Gang to go. Him just huddled over immense piles of mouldy books until he withered away into dust. How Cunty was going to cope with her lifeline gone, I don´t know. Didn´t even feel a smile come up with that thought. Just started worrying about how I was going to tell the boy that his ´father figure´ was gone. Hell only knows that he didn´t have another one to lean on. His birth father had carked it only about a year after he had disappeared, his dumb fuck of a mother had followed about six months after. Both useless alcoholics. Whelp´s better off without them anyway.
He hasn´t even asked about where they are, I think he knows somehow. Probably been expecting it for years now. Never heard of them mistreating the boy but who the hell gives a shit now? Never liked the Watcher. Always in my way and a right fucking prude. No fun to be around except for the time at Eternal. Gives a great handjob, shame I never really took the chance to get up his arse about it. They say that when ever someone dies, you always have one regret that leaps out at you. Well, that is mine, not ragging on him for his ´handy´ skills.
What doesn´t surprise me though is the drink–driving. Everyone knew that he liked more than the odd tipple, more like a quarter bottle of whatever was handy each night. Grew to more than a half bottle when the boy disappeared. Wow, he really is gone! Stupid prick, didn´t even bother to come and visit Harris since the other boys went back to Sunnyhell. Too fucking *ashamed* of the way he acted all woman like in the sodding brothel. Moron. Too late for regrets now, just have to wait until the whelp dons his own pair of white wings and goes upstairs for that son/father bonding chat they never got to have. After all that boy has been through, there is no fucking way he isn´t going upstairs, all the sodding Scooby gang is going to meet up there.
Me? Straight into the depths of hell, might just have to mix it up a little and have a bit of fun. Angel? Who the hell cares? Probably get marooned on an island with Benny Hill and the old bald guy he was always slapping on the head. Hope he gets to listen to the fucking theme for all eternity. Only thing that put me off the show was that effing theme music, used to watch it without sound. Good bloody show too.
Just turned around, didn´t comment, didn´t say a word. No one was in form for a slanging match anyway. Would rather leave the barbs until either Skank or Prickface are able to answer back, more fun that way. Climbed the stairs again and sat back down on the new dark blue sofa that had arrived that morning. Whelp was still asleep, dark hair flopping across his eyes in a tangled mess. Gonna be a hard blow for the boy, Fat Barb is away on a sodding holiday. Burnt out apparantly. Too much fucking money, I reckon. Bloody cow is on a cruise around the Fiji Islands. How the hell are we supposed to contact her when the kid has a mental?
So, here I am. Sitting on the couch, itching my arms while I try to work out a way of how to tell Xander that one of the most important people in his life is gone. I think that I will get Francis to tell him while I´m nearby to help if needed. I don´t know whether he is going to cry or just shrug it off like he did with the other kids dying, Theo. It´s gonna hit him one day and bloody hard. It was easier looking after Dru. Hard fuck, few slaps and/or torture, new hairstyle or doll and it was alright again until the next time something set her off. Whelp is still trying it on with me. Crafty little bugger too. Jumped into the shower with me one morning, told me it was an apology for punching at me the day after his big crying fit. He told me all this as he slid down to his knees, all ready to take me into his mouth.
Would have let him do it too if the smile had reached his eyes. Poor bastard was scared shitless that he had displeased me. Had me stumped for a minute. Got him to promise me that he would start wearing splippers around the hotel instead of barefeet. First slippers, going on to runners and then soft ankled boots and finally, Doc Martins. Boy was a bit confused about the promise but at least it got him out of thinking that he had to make it up to me. I had to hold my laughter until he left the bathroom, boy has to get used to shoes if we are going to a mall or the supermarket. Gotta get the whelp into a decent pair of Docs before the useless actress that plays at secretary tries to improve his wardrobe again. She´s never going to know this but some of the stuff she has gotten Harris is actually pretty good. There is this one long sleeved v–neck light knit jumper that Xander is yet to wear and I have to admit that I really want it myself. If the boy wasn´t a few sizes bigger than me, I would bloody steal it, be buggered if I ask her Bitchiness where she got it.
Damn! Now the inside of my elbows are getting itchy. Jesus, is that a sodding rash? What the hell have I got? Wonder if there is any calamine lotion in the Ballerinas medicine chest? Looks like the boy is stirring, might just put him to bed and get the half breed to tell him tomorrow morning. Still have to ask him about that tape of David. Poof got me to watch it and if I´m right and the whelp has seen it, then that explains a hell of a lot of his problems. Actually it isn´t David, it´s some kid called Jonathan. Bint cried all night when she identified him, turns out all the Scoobies had gone to school with him. Nasty way to go and that thing with the jaw, sheer brilliance. Loved it all. Mr ´I have no personality´ Angelus got all shirty with me for liking it. I´m a bloody demon, of course I´m going to like it.
Boy´s awake now, still a bit sleepy. I don´t know what to say. I suppose honesty is the best way to go. Haven´t lied to him since the day I saw him again in the brothel and I don´t think that I will again. Don´t know why, just doesn´t feel right.
28 August 2004,
With a glance at the brunette seated beside him, Spike drew the car up to the kerb, throwing the gear stick into park. Sitting quietly for a few minutes, the vampire waited for the youth to make some sort of sign that he recognised he was back in Sunnydale. It had take almost seven hours to drive the usual three hour distance from L.A. to Sunnydale and the blond was exhausted. Twice he had turned around and had been almost back at the Hyperion and both times he had given in to the screams of frustration from Xander. It was actually upsetting the vampire that the youth wanted to go to the funeral but the closer he got to Sunnydale, the more terrified he became.
Spike had steeled himself completly the third time the youth had gotten hysterical, ignoring the shuddering gasps and streaming tears, continuing to drive to Sunnydale for the ex–watchers funeral the next afternoon. Once past the welcoming sign to the town, Xander had stopped crying, just gasping and shaking while staring straight ahead. They were parked outside Joyce´s house, the slayers mother had indicated that she would more than welcome them both. Spike really didn´t mind the older woman, she had been about the only one who had listened to him about Drusilla and it wouldn´t hurt the whelp to stay with a friend rather than in a motel.
Another minute of sitting in a car that reeked of cigarette smoke and terror, Spike wound up the window and opened the door. Back door open, he got out both his and the youth´s bags, walking to the passenger door, he opened the door. Taking a good look at the brunette, the vampire gently prodded at the still shaking form.
"Come on pet, time to get out and get some sleep. You did good, we´re here."
Xander blinked furiously, turning his head to look at the vampire crouched down beside him. With a hard swallow, the youth hesitantly got out of the car and followed the blond to the front door. A few raps on the door saw a sleepy Joyce let them into the quiet house.
"Good to see you again Xander, Spike. Are you two alright? Do you want anything to eat or drink? I made sure that I have some of your usual Spike, just help yourself and that goes for you too Xander, ok?"
Answering the questions, Spike was slightly amazed that his invitation into the house had never been removed. He asked Joyce which rooms they were in, Spike in Buffy´s old room and Xander just next door in the guest bedroom. Unable to supress a snicker of amusment at how the Slayer would chuck a hissy fit to know that he was sleeping in her old room, the vampire made a decision to wank off in the room just to spite the bitch. Thankfully the human woman was occupied trying to get an answer out of Xander of if he would like some hot chocolate. The vampire quickly shook his head at Joyce, the kid hated chocolate and sweet things since being rescued from the brothel. A nudge to a still silent Xander and they both climbed the stairs into their allocated bedrooms for the night.
"Right Xan, your room, your bag. Go to sleep and I´ll see you in the morning."
Hopefully the whelp would be too emotionally drained to have any nightmares, which had gotten worse since he had been told about Giles. The boy had started to scream in his nightmares, not unlike Christopher. Seeing Xander disappear into his room, Spike waited just outside the doorway until he felt the heartbeat calm down and the smell of fear dissipate. Spike dumped his bag on the bed in his own room and thumped back down the stairs, glancing in at the whelp before continuing to the kitchen. Xander might not want a chocolate but he did, Joyce had made him a few while he had prattled on about Drusilla and he had loved each one. He figured he had about an hour tops before Xander started to twitch in his sleep, indicating a beginning nightmare, providing he went to sleep straightaway. The woman was probably already making him one. Bloody better have those mini marshmellows was the thought as he clumped into the kitchen. Sure enough, Joyce was just adding a handful of green, pink and white fluffy sugar balls to the divine smelling liquid.
"Here you go Spike. I knew that you would want one. How´s Xander?"
"Don´t know actually. Cried for about two hours after the half breed told him about Crusty. I don´t think he has really made the connection though, I mean, he cried but he sort of shrugged it off like he did when that Theo whelp carked it."
Taking a sip from the steaming mug, Spike followed Joyce back into the dimly lit living room, listening as she told him that Xander´s room had a small lamp that could be left on all night and that she had stocked up on fruit and had placed a pitcher of water to cool in the fridge. With a nod, Spike reminded himself to take a glass of water up to Xander´s room before going to sleep himself, Xander tending to get angsty if there wasn´t a glass of water anywhere near him at all times.
"I didn´t think you were coming, the others arrived hours ago, I was getting a bit worried."
"Boy got anxious about coming back to Sunnyhell. Had to turn back twice. Stupid fucking therapist is away, whelp was meant to go for a visit to that Christian thing for a few days. Was meant to go yesterday but the funeral sort of took care of that, you know?"
A nod saw Joyce agree with the vampire. Despite what Buffy had always said about Spike, she saw things in the male that a lot of other people would miss. Him talking to her, albeit drunkenly, about Drusilla had made her see that he would lay down his unlife without question for whoever had his full attention at that particular point in time. It obviously took a lot to get his attention but she thought that Xander was blessed to have the vampire looking out for him. Her daughter had ranted and raved for days about what Cordelia had told her about Spike being appointed Xander´s ´transition back to society support person´ but even after listening to Buffy, she couldn´t agree that the vampire would end up hurting Xander. Buffy had never listened to an almost weeping drunk blond in the middle of the night but Joyce had and had sympathised over his situation.
He could be a right arsehole sometimes, the meetings about Xander had proved that and she had been just about to stake him herself at one point. How ironic that he was now taking care of someone he had repeatedly ridiculed.
"Generally though, I mean, how is he? The nightmares still going on?"
"Yep. Regular like clockwork, every night without fail. Gotten worse since the watcher died too. Screams a bit."
"Oh god! The poor boy. How are you coping with it all? Can´t be easy on you?"
Spike shrugged at Joyce. She was right, it wasn´t easy with the nightmares but who the hell else was going to do it? In some ways the boy was easier to look after than Drusilla, at least he didn´t have to worry about Xander dusting himself in an effort to see if there really was a smiley face in the sun like all the children´s books indicated or trying to christin dolls with real holy water. It was harder to get the whelp to socialise and some days it was damn near impossible to get a sentence out of him. The vampire was more worried about leaving the boy alone in the presence of other males, he had caught Xander sidling up to both Doyle and Angel on more than one occasion in the past few weeks and if the blond hadn´t interrupted straight away, he was sure that the brunette would have been undressed in about two minutes flat. He wished he could at least talk to Fat Barb about it, the boy wasn´t getting aggressive, he was getting slutty.
Xander hadn´t gotten too far with Angel, the older vampire pretty much frozen in horror at the boy´s crude suggestions, leaving the library immediately as he saw Spike come in. The broody vampire was now not letting himself get caught alone in a room with the boy, not wanting to give him any type of encouragement at all. The half Bracchen was another story, he was pretty naive when it came to male come–ones and Spike had stumbled upon them in the middle of a hug. Totally innocent until he noticed Xander´s hand slowly going to cup Doyles crotch. A loud cough and snarl had broken that one up, the blond not saying anything about Doyle explaining that Xander had been feeling a little upset and had wanted a hug. He hadn´t needed to, the half demon had gone pretty quiet when he realised just what he had said. Doyle was now taking Angel´s lead and trying not to be alone with the youth. Xander was yet to acknowledge what the two other men were doing. Wesley was the only one who was yet to be hit on but Spike didn´t think he would be due to the fact the other man was a full human.
The vampire was brushing off numerous suggestions and touches himself. He had hoped that the scene in the shower would be the last but unfortunately it wasn´t. It was annoying the blond immensly, Spike was hard the instant the boy looked at him shyly before ducking his head and the light brushings against his crotch and backside were driving him to masturbate more than often. Normally he would just take advantage of the situation and shag the brat senseless but he knew that it wouldn´t be the best thing for Xander in the long run. It was weird, he finding himself almost following the brunette around the Hyperion, something he had only done with Drusilla. He just *had* to be near the youth, not neccessarily in the same room but close enough to hear and smell the whelp whenever he wanted. More recently his dreams of Drusilla had slowed down, being replaced by ones that featured Xander doing ordinary everyday things.
Spike was jerked out of his thoughts by the Slayer´s mother taking his empty mug from his hand, Joyce telling him to go to bed himself. Nodding at the suggestion, he turned an ear towards the stairs, listening for any noise that indicated a nightmare for the youth. Maybe Xander would sleep all the way through that night. The funeral was in the late afternoon, Buffy making all the arrangements. Anya and Gunn were hosting the wake in the Magic Box after the funeral. In the kitchen, he poured a large glass of water to place in the spare bedroom. During the first weeks of being freed from the brothel, all the boys had downed water like it was going out of fashion. Xander had hinted at being thirsty while at Eternal, sometimes carrying a glass of water with him wherever he went in the hotel. Something that he would probably never grow out of, pretty much like the body lotion ritual after each shower the boy had going.
Making sure all the lights were off downstairs, the blond climbed the stairs. Just outside the whelp´s bedroom, he listened at the steady heartbeat, waiting to see if there were any signs of a nightmare before entering the softly lit bedroom and placing the glass on the dresser that held the lamp. The boy wasn´t asleep but he wasn´t far from it either.
"S.s..spike?"
"Yeah, what?"
"I´m s.sorry about b.b.b.before."
"Don´t worry Pet. We´re here and that´s the main thing. You want anything?"
"N.no th.thanks."
Seeing the blond turn to leave, Xander called the vampire back before he disappeared from view and into his own room.
"S.spike?"
"What now?"
"Giles, he..he really is g.g.gone isn´t he?"
With a sniff, Spike could smell the tears that were threatening to emerge. Sighing, he sat himself down on the comfy bed and looked down at the sleepy eyed brunette. Honesty, that was the only way to go. It was a good sign, he hoped, that the youth was asking about the deceased man.
"Yeah Whelp, he really is gone."
A pale hand reached out to stroke at the thick dark mass of hair. Slowly, Spike smoothed the silky strands from the forehead, hoping that the youth wouldn´t use this as an opportunity to start something. Another sniff and he smelt that doing anything like that was probably the last thing on the boys mind, unhappiness tainting the air of the room. He watched as the first of the tears slid their way down the tanned cheeks, the male´s breath starting hitch.
"Are y.y.you going to th.the funeral?"
"Funerals are more for family and friends. Lets face it, I´m bloody well neither. I´ll be going to the party afterwards though, you know at Prune Faces shop."
A snort and sniffle later, Xander asked what the vampire had thought of the older watcher. Looking intently at the suprised blue eyes, he was comforted by the almost rhythmic pattern of the cool hand on his brow. It was nice, he couldn´t ever remember anyone but his mother doing it.
"Well, I didn´t like the prudey sod. Hated him, always in my way and telling Bunney how to kill perfectly reasonable demons. Doesn´t mean that I didn´t respect the man for being able to do a job that most people would crumble under. Actually, probably a good thing he was Cunty´s watcher. Can you imagine what a complete fuckwit the bint would have turned out like if Old Dusty hadn´t been around with his stiff upper lip?"
Seeing the boy choke a bit on his few chuckles, the vampire allowed a smirk to adorn his face while he continued with his thoughts of the dead man. Whelp didn´t laugh often, nice to see and hear. Still he stroked at the thick hair, pleased that he was allowed to do it even while feeling slightly bitter that it wasn´t Dru lying in the bed allowing only him to soothe her fears and provide her with the comfort she was needing.
"Girl would have had to have been classed as retarded if Giles hadn´t gotten her past the ´see Dick run´ books. Too smart for his own good at times, he was."
"It was him that got everything organised to find you. Put up the flyers, got the notices in the paper. Annoyed the cops each month to see if you had been located. He never stopped looking for you Xander. You were very important to him´
Spike had no idea why he was telling the crying youth that but he was. So far, no one had broached the subject of how he had been found or what the Scooby gang had done when they had found out he was missing, all prefering to wait until Barbara Neal indicated that it was time to tell all. Xander´s tears were at full force, the chuckling gone to be replaced by heaving sobs.
"R..really? He l..looked for m.m.me?"
"For fucks sake! Of course he bloody did. What, did you honestly think that no one was looking for you?"
"Yes"
Skin crawling, Spike halted his petting at the barely whispered word. Bloody hell, the whelp was serious. The pain radiating out of the dark eyes was amazing, the youth was almost screaming the emotion of misery into the softly lit room. With quick shake of his head, the vampire resumed the stroking of Xander´s hair. He asked the youth why.
"No one c..c.came for s.so long. I p.prayed at first l.like I was taught in S.s.sunday School b..but it g.got to be just w.w.words after a while. I..I stopped belieiving that someone w.was going to c.c.come."
"Yeah, but we found you, didn´t we?"
Nodding, Xander hiccuped while he tried to gather his thoughts. He was tired but he felt unable to go to sleep although the stroking was soothing to him. Silence set in, the brunette staring at the open doorway, his mind on things other than the funeral that afternoon. Spike waited for the boy to say more, he was sure that even with all the visits to the therapist, Xander had just let loose with more information than he had probably given Fat Barb.
"Was h.he ashamed of m.m.me?"
"No! No, he fucking well wasn´t. He was upset at you being at Eternal but Xander, no–one is ashamed of you. What those bastards did was not your fault, so you can stop that nasty little thought right now mate"
"I´m s.scared that i.it will happen a..a.again. T.that everything will be g..g.good and then one d.d.day I will w.wake up in a.a.a dark room, not able to s.s.see anything."
Well, that might just explain the fear of the dark then thought the vampire. He kept stroking as the tired youth told him of how he had woken up in a pitch black room, unable to see or hear anything bar his own breathing. Spike felt himself get angry when Xander told of the lack of water, the drugged food he had been given in the small room. A few gibberish sentences followed as the boy gave into sheer mental exhaustion. The anger rolled around in his stomach but what suprised him was the his other feeling of pride that Xander had confided in him. That the whelp felt comfortable enough with him to tell him a tiny sliver of what had helped to reduce the youth into a mere shell of his former self.
Content to sit by Xander for a few minutes more, Spike felt his own eyelids begining to droop. A glance at the guest room clock and he saw that it was almost four in the morning. God, no wonder he felt tired, especially after the torturous drive to the small town. Making a descion, he decided to get his mattress and sleep next to the boy on the floor, an idea he gave up as he remembered that Buffy´s old bed was a double and there wasn´t enough room on the floor for it. With a swift movement, he gently lifted the slumbering boy into his arms, thankfull for his vampire strength. There was no way he would have been able to lift the larger and heavier male if he had still been a human. He quickly transfered the boy into Buffy´s bed, making sure that he was tucked under the blankets comfortably. Another trip back saw him dragging the guest rooms single mattress into the Slayers room, dumping it at the end of the larger bed.
Blankets retrieved from the smaller room, Spike laid out the bed after making sure that he wouldn´t be dusted in the morning. Thankfully Joyce had installed some thick curtains on the windows, obviously well aware of how flammable his species was. Checking the whelp again, he was reassured by the soft snoring. He honestly hoped that he would get at least a few hours undisturbed sleep. Spike knew that he wasn´t the only one suffering from a lack of sleep. Woosley, Scrag Hag and Prickly Arse were all looking worse for wear with Christopher´s screaming at night. The only one who ever looked well rested was the Great Poof. A snort at what it would take for his Sire to wake up at night, the blond had a sudden image of an atomic bomb going off, leaving the world full of cockroaches and one sleeping vampire that had not only slumbered all the way through, but had been protected by his hair.
Yawning, the vampire snuggled under the thick blankets once undressed and with a few tosses and turns, he felt himself drift off.
