Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming... [Willow]

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Thomas eyelids fluttered open for a brief second.. He had to fight to keep them open. They seemed to have a mind of their own, and they wanted to stay shut, avoid the blood, avoid the pale form of a little girl lying on a red-stained couch, avoid the worried look of a father as his eyes went a little glassy with the image of his daughter practically dying being etched into his mind. Maybe it was a good thing Thomas didn't have any kids. He felt so strongly for children that weren't even his; he had to wonder how fiercely he'd feel for his own child. They flickered open again and instead of blood, he saw Ryan Jason Sean. He didn't have to struggle to keep his eyes open anymore. It felt like they'd never be able to close again. You never closed your eyes in the presence of Sean. Only the foolish did that, and in cases like that, they never did get the chance to open them. Sean was a monster. A monster that was hovering over Thomas. A monster that had touched him. Thom's shoulder felt unclean.

He got up and scrambled a good two feet away. He had been too close for comfort. Thom shouldn't be surprised. After all, where there is blood, there is Sean. It seemed like the two couldn't exist without the other. And in it's own way, it was true. Ryan was fueled by blood. In both ways, it ran through his vein and into his heart, keeping him physically alive, but when he spilled it, that was when it made him mentally alive. Did Ryan really hurt a little girl? Disgust jolted through every bone in Thomas. He felt sick to his stomach, and righteous anger flared in his eyes. He wished he could say something, do something to make Ryan regret every sin he had ever committed, but there was something about the way Sean looked now.

He was crouching down, and his green eyes looked bigger and wider than normal.. more innocent. It was an odd sight. He still looked threatening but there was something gentle underneath. He was still scrawny, hiding under that hideous coat that made him look bigger. His hair was still greasy and a stray strand fell in front of his face. Normally, things like that didn't bug Thomas but he couldn't concentrate with it just hanging in front of his eyes like that. It unnerved him. That shock of black obscuring one eye. It made it harder to look Ryan in the eyes, and if Thomas couldn't do that he'd feel weak. Besides, it was never a good idea to be distracted around Ryan. Thomas quickly got on his hands and knees, leaned forward and tucked the stray strand behind Sean's ear. Just as quick, he flumped down onto his rear and scooted back again. Being so close to Sean, even for a moment, made Thom's heart beat faster out of fear. The first second Thomas had heard of Ryan, he was convinced Sean was the son of the Devil.. and now Thomas was in the same room.. with the evil incarnate. "First.. I'm not a pansy. Second.. What are you doing here?" Thomas meant to have more.. force in his words, but it came out soft and tired. He had another question, but wasn't really sure how to approach it. It wasn't one of those questions you could just ask bluntly. Why would Sean wake him up? It would be easier to kill him in his unconscious state. Maybe Sean liked the struggle someone put up before they died. Maybe he liked the look of desperation someone had before they gave up the ghost. That familiar feeling of disgust, that he had permanently linked with Sean's name and presence, returned.

[Waddle]

Little did Harper know it, but Ryan did like that look. He liked that desperate realization that his victim was going to die. A sick satisfaction, but a satisfaction none the less. Even still, it was one he took only when he could afford to, when very few things could go wrong with his work. Being that close to his victim though, close enough to see that look, the fear, the hate and the pain, meant blood stains. On him, his arms, torso, face, hands, knife. Ryan drew attention no matter how hard he tried to not to, but being bloodstained in public was suicide. He had always preferred to not get bloodstained, so he wouldn't stand out as much, and wouldn't have to shower. He hated showering. With a passion. He felt so vulnerable, exposed, weak. He had learned to never let himself be even a bit penetrable. It would get him killed.

As Harper came forward to tuck Ryan's hair behind his ear, Ryan's eyes followed his hand. He tensed, prepared to jump away, but he should have known better. Harper was a coward, a strange, compulsive coward. That makes me feel ashamed. We have something in common. Strangeness and compulsiveness.[/i] He waited until Harper had drawn back again before basically forcing the tenseness from his muscles. He was always tense, but he needed to seem relaxed. Scaring Thomas away wouldn't make the new girl shut up, and even though she wasn't talking, her presence made him uncomfortable. He wanted her away, back down into the recesses of his mind.

Harper's awake. Do I have to talk to him? Yes! Please, Ryan. Just for a minute.[/i] Ryan sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. His hand still hurt from where Willow had bitten him, and he stared at the wound for several seconds, trying to gather his thoughts enough to reply to Harper. His reaction was delayed, but it did come. Barking a cold laugh, Ryan's eyes drifted back to Thomas.

"If you weren't a pansy, you would not have fainted at the sight of a little blood. And what I'm doing here is making sure for a certain person that you're not dead." He couldn't help but snort with derision as he continued in a sing-song voice, like kids do, "Someone's gotta crush on you, Harper."[/b] If the voice had had a body, she would have shrunken into the shadows, blushing. But since she didn't, she shrank back into his head. You weren't supposed to tell him, you idiot![/i] Still chuckling, Ryan stood up and stuck out a hand for Thomas to stand too. Faintly, he could sense Nedd and D both shaking their heads in something akin to amusement with a touch of pity for the little girl. Felicity. That was going to be her name. Well, Felicity, you wanted to know, didn't you? Mr. Sean, you have absolutely no tact. Do not call me Sean. Don't even think it, girl. And if I didn't have tact then I would be dead by now.[/i] The sudden harshness that flooded his mind at being called Mr. Sean reflected in his outward appearance. His hand dropped, the smile, no matter how cruel it might have been, disappeared, and he turned his back on Thomas, walking back toward the open window, but he didn't leave. He turned his back to it and leaned against the sill, folded his arms across his chest and watched Harper for several seconds.

"So what'll it be? You think I hurt the little girl? Well, let me tell you, I did. I didn't mean to, though. Scamper on and tell your roommate that if you like."[/b] He made a shooing gesture with one hand. Being right next door to the cop wasn't a very risky move. There was only one of him, but maybe he had already seen Ryan. Maybe people were on the way. Ryan scowled at thinking that. No, he wasn't going to split now. He had just gotten here. If Harper left, he could search the house, find out who Willow's father was, figure out more about her. He could do that with Harper here, but the man was an annoyance. Actually, he's hardly even a man. [/size]

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Thomas didn't have a problem with blood, it was just innocent blood that made him sick to his stomach. So much emotion, it'd overwhelm him; Anger, Disgust, Pity. Now that Willow was out of the room so was Pity. Disgust and Anger were still there but Anger the prominent emotion. Anger at Ryan. There was no doubt in Thom's mind that Ryan was the one who hurt her, the poor little girl who looked so helpless, drained of blood with an expression distorted by pain and exhaustion. It made Thomas angry all over just thinking about it, but all his rage was expelled with that little sentence. Someone's got a crush on you, Harper. Thomas blushed a bit. Though shock had temporary held it back, his rage came back. [color=Maroon]"S-Shut up! That's cruel. Even for you."[/color] Actually, nothing was too cruel for the heartless serial killer. Everyone knew of Thom's.. problem, though he had tried his hardest to keep it a secret. He was hypersensitive, disgusted by touch, and on top of that asexual. No one loved him like that, and no one ever would. Just like Ryan, Thomas was incapable of love. Thomas despised what Ryan and him had in common. He was briefly considering loving someone just to spite the similarity but Thomas knew his limits and knew it'd be unfair to whoever got stuck with him. He ignored Ryan's outstretched hand and got up on his own.

That smile was haunting and Thom was glad when it disappeared. Smiling didn't suit Ryan. He thought Ryan was going to leave and Thom panicked. He wasn't ready for Ryan to leave yet. Yes, Ryan disgusted him, but there was that underlying gentleness that had piqued Thom's interest. It made him curious and the questions were burning under his skin making it crawl. He wanted to ask and relieve himself from that terrible, uncomfortable feeling. That hidden innocence hadn't lasted long, but it was there. It made Thomas wonder if there was good in everyone. Maybe Ryan wasn't completely hopeless.. and then he admitted to hurting the little girl.

Ryan had been so close. He could have convinced Thomas that he was somewhat decent. Thom was eager to believe it. That gentleness made Thom doubt just how bad Rye was, but now he was adamant in his belief. Didn't mean to? He laughed. "You don't hurt on accident." It was true. The girl was nothing special to Ryan. You don't mangle someone that bad on accident. He followed her here, either to finish her off or make sure she got home okay. Knowing Ryan, it was the former. Thomas moved forward, still laughing though it wasn't all that funny. He didn't know why he was acting so unlike himself. Maybe it was fear. He was too close to Ryan. "I'm not going to go to Momo.." No, that'd just put Mo in danger, and that was the last thing Thom wanted. Besides, he still had questions crawling on his skin. ".. Sean." Thomas grinned. No, he wasn't behaving like himself at all. Something was wrong with him.. something was wrong with the both of them. [/size]

[Waddle]

Being called cruel had never hurt him, and it didn’t now. He’d been called cruel and much, much worse. No accusations had ever hurt him, not even ones from his father. Only the punches that accompanied such claims had bothered him. The only reply to the charge that came from Thomas was a shrug. One in his line of work had to be heartless. Ryan had seen it over and over - one small weakness, one huge bane. He’d seen many men die because of that Achilles’ heel, that one hole in an otherwise impenetrable set of armor. He’d sworn to never let that happen to himself, sworn that he would remain as perfect as he could, just to keep himself alive and safe. Perfection had always been a necessity for Ryan, but never before had he required it in himself. Not until now. Not until he’d turned to this life of murdering and devastation. He always had to know everything about a plan before he took action. His armor had been so flawless, so faultless there, just for a short time. Then everything had come tumbling down. And just look what I came here to this pitiful excuse for a town and found. Two half-sisters. Damn…[/color]

Ryan took several seconds to truly think on Thomas’s words. You don’t hurt on accident. He knew that those words wouldn’t be answered now, and he would never get them out of his head. For some reason, he wanted to scream that he had hurt people on accident before. Yet, as he scanned his memory, he couldn’t remember a time when he ever had. There were a few times when he had hurt someone without meaning to, but it had been something like running into them and knocking them to the ground. Probably as he was fleeing the cops. But he’d never hurt someone as badly as he had hurt the girl unintentionally. He’d never killed or maimed involuntarily. He could have killed Willow, and if he hadn’t, she would surely be scarred.

It was easy to see the desperate wish to believe in Harper’s eyes. He wanted to believe that Ryan wasn’t completely lost to humanity, to the way normal people felt and acted. Harper was much too late to believe that. “I would have expected that after I burned down… What did you call him? Mo… mo? What a ridiculous nickname. Anyway, after I burned down his house and killed his family, I would have thought that you’d given up hope on me. But no, I can still see it. Saw it, I mean.”[/b] Turning his back on Harper, Ryan began to walk up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. He continued to talk. “One, don’t call me Sean. Two, go home. Now. I have work to do.”[/b] Pausing, Ryan turned back around and lifted up his bloody, bandaged hand. “The girl did that,”[/b] he explained and nodded to it. “She’s not weak. She did this too.”[/b] Pulling the trench coat back a bit revealed his bloody leg. Red-stained white bone poked out from the meat of his calf. Swinging back around, he finished ascending the stairs. Only now was the pain returning, all because he had acknowledged the wounds to someone else. He limped heavily as he went down the hall, but ignored it.

The first door was open just a crack, and a glance inside showed him Willow’s room again. The next door was opened wide, undoubtedly from where Willow’s father had come out. Ryan entered here and took stock of the two adjacent rooms before he began looking through the files and papers scattered on and around the desk. So her dad was a cop. That could be worked around easily. One document caused him to hesitate. He had to hold the paper close to his face to scan the tiny print. FMDP? What was that? USA? Ryan blinked at the paper, no longer seeing it. They were Americans. FMDP, FMDP, FMDP… Repeating the four letters over and over his in head got him nowhere. [/size]