"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" Michael asked Blake, as Blake opened the door to leave the small apartment.

"Definitely," Blake promised.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride home? I mean, it's pretty dark, dude. We don't live in the best place of town," Michael fretted. Blake laughed lightly, shaking his head.

"Nah, man. I'll be fine," Blake reassured, then walked out the door, closing it behind him. Michael was right. They lived in downtown Albany, New York. Drug deals, murders and rapes were common around town. Blake decided not to worry though, since his apartment was only a few blocks away. He walked out into the dark of the night, lifting up his hood to block his face from the cold wind. They're were a few cars there and then, but it was pretty quiet.

Until Blake heard a scream. He suddenly paused, looking around and trying to listen more closely. "Hello?"

Another scream came, followed by sobbing. Blake ran, following the noise. It went silent, and he got extremely confused. "Who's there?" He yelled, loudly. He walked down an alley, between two abonded buildings. He spotted someone on the ground, and dashed over. "Oh.. No." He knelt down on the ground, grabbing the petite girl's head. He moved a piece of short black her from her face.

She opened her bloodshot eyes, and started breathing heavily. "Get away-get away!" She tried to scramble away, but Blake reached forward and grabbed her.

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're gonna be fine." He mumbled reassuring words, massaging her shoulders slowly. "Do you remember anything?"

She shook her head, cowering into the shadows.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me," Blake held out his hand. "Come back to my apartment with me. I'll clean you up and we can call the police or something... It's the least I can do."

She looked up at him, big hazel eyes glazed over with fear and pain. Blake sighed, then reached underneath her stomach and legs, then picked her up. She shivered at the contact, and clutched on to his arm for dear life. Blake sighed, then looked down at her. She looked so vulnerable, so scared, like a lost child. But he knew that she was older than a child. He still felt so obligated to take care of her.

Blake found himself rushing home, as this girl started to cry and complain more and more. Finally, he walked into his apartment and flicked on the lights. "Sh," he shushed her. "We're here, we're here. I'm gonna take care of you now." He laid her down on his couch, then finally got a full view of her.

She only had one shoe on, an old Converse sneaker. She had ripped shorts on, her legs exposed. She wore a red and blue stripped ripped tanktop, but the red might've been blood... Her hair was unusually short, with an old bandana wrapped around her head. Blake leaned down to exaimine her more. On her neck were prints of some sort. They resembled hands; fingers wrapping around her neck to choke her. Her face was bruised, and had bruises and bloody scrapes on her legs. Blake felt so horrible. "Would you like a drink?" He finally asked. She nodded, choking out nonsense.

Blake walked off to the kitchen, feeling uneasy. He didn't like leaving her alone, even if she seemed okay. He filled a cup with cold water, sticking a straw in it then returning it to her. He held it out to her, not sure if she was capable of holding the cup herself. Blake watched in awe as she managed to lift her head, and lean forward, wrapping her lips around the end of the straw. He could see the relief in her eyes and relaxation ripple through her body as she drank. Blake smiled softly. When she was done, she pulled her head back slowly, and gave a small cough. At first Blake thought she was choking, but she leaned back into the couch with a sigh. He realized she was fine.

"Are you feeling better?" Blake asked timidly. She opened her eyes, and looked at him. She nodded shyly. "Good," he said. "I'll be right back.." He got up to walk away, but felt something grab his arm. Blake turned to see the girl clutching to him, face desperate and scared. He sighed, then sat down on the ground. "Ok. Ok, I'll stay with you."

They both sat in silence, and Blake just watched her. She truly was magnificent. He watched the way her chest rose and fall, the shuffle of her ankles, the scrunch of her nose and flicker of her eyelids. Soon, she was asleep. Blake knew she'd be grateful for that sleep later, and he decided to help her wash. He stood up, walking off. He returned with a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants of his, a towel, and a blanket. He placed those things down, then walked into the kitchen. Blake grabbed a bowl, filled it with warm water and soap, then walked back out. He placed the bowl beside him, and grabbed the towel. He dipped the end in, then reached forward, wiping dried and fresh blood from her forehead.

Water dripped from the towel, and into her eyes. She awoke, sitting up quickly and breathing heavily. "Woah, woah! Hey, it's ok!" Blake calmed her. "I'm just trying to clean you up." She nodded slowly, staying upright. Blake found this position easier to clean. He cleaned her face slowly, then reached her neck. "Don't freak out," he whispered, before reaching forward and rubbing her neck. He couldn't feel damage, just see the prints on her. He could see her quiver, and she flinched back a little, but let his hands explore. Finally, Blake brought his hands back.

Blake finished washing the parts he felt comfortable washing and looked at her. "You must be awfully uncomfortable," he noted, and recieved a small nod. "Here." He handed her his t-shirt and sweatpants. "Wear these."

She squirmed to take her shirt off, and Blake helped her, as someone should. He also helped slip his t-shirt over her head. It was huge on her, but who cared? He grabbed her legs, twirling her on the couch to make her feet on the floor. He assisted her, rolling the pants up her legs and around her hips. Those too were rather large on her small frame, hanging loosely from her hips. Neither of them cared that they were strangers. Blake knew he was doing a good thing, and she apparently trusted him.

Finally, he laid the blanket out over her. A small smile teased her lips, and that simply made Blake smile. He decided to sleep in the living room with her, to make sure she was ok. He gathered his own blanket and pillow, then prepared a makeshift bed on the couch. Soon, both were asleep.

Blake awakened at the sound of groaning and coughing. He looked at the electric clock, and it was three in the morning. He sighed, and looked over at the girl. She was coughing violently, and groaning along with it. Blake stood up lazily, and walked into the bathroom. He grabbed a thermometer, then walked back out to her. "Do you feel sick?" He asked. Blake had learned to remain calm and use understandable words around her. She nodded. He placed a hand to her forehead. She was burning.

He took her tempurature with the thermometer, and it read 99 degrees. "Crap," he mumbled. He ran into the kitchen, putting ice into a plastic bag then wrapping a paper towel around it. Blake rushed into the room, and placed the icepack on her head.

From that point on, Blake stayed with her for the rest of the night, not sleeping once.

Blake waited until she woke up the next morning to ask her anything. "Better?" He cocked his head. She nodded weakly, and he took her tempurature again. 87. She definitely was better. He smiled in relief. "Oh, thank God." He turned away, getting up.

"Th-Thank you," a small voice said. Blake looked down. Was that her? "Thanks," she repeated. "For e-everything."

Blake leaned down next to her. "You must be feeling better. You're talking. Can you tell me your name?"

"Nellie," she rasped. "My-My name's Nellie."

"I like your name," he commented. "I'm Blake. Blake Conroad," he continued. "I-I hope I didn't invade your privacy last night."

Nellie gave a tiny shake of her head. "You didn't.. You were-were just being sw-sweet."

"Shush now," Blake pressed a finger to her lips. "I don't want you to feel pressured into saying anything. Take it easy, ok?"

She sunk into the couch some more, and nodded. Nervous Nellie, Blake thought with a small chuckle. Fits her perfectly.

"You should eat something," Blake suggested. "You're way too skinny," he laughed. "I'll get you some food." He began to walk off, but she grabbed his hand.

"I have to get up," Nellie whispered. "I don't want to just sit around. Let me help you."

Blake sighed. "Ok, but be careful," he grabbed both her hands, and lifted her up. She stumbled into him, body pressed against his. He caught her by her waist and stomach, chuckling lightly. "Woah, Nellie," he joked. "Are you okay?" He breathed, and she stared at him, entranced. Blake cleared his throat, feeling kind of uncomfortable.

"Uh," Nellie leaned on Blake's shoulder, and he guided her into the kitchen. She was so weak, depending on his side. She slipped on water in the kitchen, and fell on to the ground. "Oh," she groaned.

"Nellie!" Blake leaned down beside her. "I'm sorry, are-are you okay?" He seemed to be asking that question far too often for her. She nodded, looking up.

"Can you help me up?" Nellie asked quietly, tears forming in her eyes. Blake grabbed her hand, and hoisted her up.

"You seem upset," he noticed, lifting her chin with his hand. "Tell me why."

"You-You're just so sweet and.. You brought me here and took care of me, and here I am, slipping and stumbling over your floors.. You should just throw me back on the streets," Nellie whispered, hazel-brown eyes flicking to the floor. Blake had to admit, they were gorgeous eyes.

"No, no, I could never do that," Blake whispered. "Hey. Look at me." Her brown orbs met his. "Later today, I'll bring you home. Will that make you happy?"

"Bringing me home would be the same as throwing me on the streets," Nellie coughed.

"Wait- you don't have a home?" Blake asked, grabbing her hands. He grabbed her waist and set her on the counter in the middle of his small kitchen, so their heights matched. "Don't lie to me, Nellie."

"I couldn't pay the rent on my apartment, so I got evicted," Nellie explained dully.

"That's it," Blake grabbed Nellie's shoulders. "You're staying with me."

The day went on, and Blake watched everything Nellie did. He didn't get her to smile all day though. Blake decided that Nellie was different than any other girl he knew. He also knew he'd have to introduce her to all his friends at some point, she was going to be living with him now. Blake wondered how cheerful and smiley Shanna would react to someone so dark and sad like Nellie. Or what sexy and confident Aylin would think of shy and self-concious Nellie. Would they accept her for who she is?

By nighttime, Nellie had fallen asleep very quickly. Blake decided to sleep in his own room, but woke up in the middle of the night to sobbing. He ran out right away, seeing Nellie on the floor. "Nellie, what..?" He didn't finish, just lifted her up into his arms. He brought her up on the couch, and rocked her back and forth softly. "It's ok, it's ok," he soothed. "Tell me what happened.."

"I-I had a dream," Nellie sobbed. "He came back for me.. And he-he wouldn't stop. I kept telling him to stop and-"

"Shhhh," Blake breathed, running a hand through her short hair. "It's ok, baby-" He stopped. He didn't mean to call her 'baby'. It just came out. Nellie didn't seem to notice, and cowered into him, still sobbing. Blake kissed her forehead softly. It wasn't good being attatched to her..