Hey y'all! Just to let you know, I had a delightful time with this. It is slightly AU, and takes place before Turn Coat. I hope you enjoy!

Screams were all that were heard as his dream self floated throughout the dismal building, the moldy and dirty concrete floors, walls, and ceilings giving off a musty and damp smell. The only lights in the place were well placed torches in iron brackets, casting a feeble glow throughout the narrow halls and small rooms. Each room was barred shut with iron bars over the wooden door, a small window in the upper part of the door, at eye level. There was a total of 8 rooms per floor, 16 different floors, and 23 different hallways on each floor. The building I was in, was underwater, and a total maze.

On the very bottom floor, it was different, it was one cavernous space, dimly lit with several torches, and 13 black hooded figures were standing, all chanting in a low monotone of some unknown language. A magic circle was in front of them, a pentacle outlined within it, the metal lining it in the concrete floor a deep, matte black. I had no idea what exactly the substance was, but it was evil, and very powerful.

The figure within the barriers around the circle was a divine creature only heard of in legends. What had once been glowing scales of silver over powerful muscles and a long, lean frame, was a mess. The scales were a dull, rusting silver, the once proud body weak and limp, her head the very portrayal of defeat. The powerful mane that coursed along her back, down to the tip of the long tail, had once been a shining mane of dark silver, was now limp and tangled. She was dying from the evil in the room, and of the curses and enchantments forced upon her, drawing her power from her. Killing her, a legendary god like creature, and my dream self could do nothing but watch.

But as I watched, the dragon's head lifted, some of the darkest, and most pure blue eyes I have ever seen making contact with mine. A shiver coursed down my spine as I felt the power in that gaze. But the curse took place first. There was a flash of dark red light, and the most horrid, unearthly scream of pain echoed throughout the room, a sound I was sure could be heard for miles. The chanting had risen to a feverish pitch, the 13 dark hooded figures raising their arms in unison as they cast the curse over the god like creature. But what they hadn't expected was the backwash of amazing power cascading over all of them, crashing every single one of them into the walls with the audible crunching of bones.

The dragon was gone, leaving nothing but a shimmering silver mist, the residual dark energy of the curse, dark metal in the floor, and a naked girl laying on the floor...

I woke.

I was walking to my car after another day at work, my coat wrapped around me tightly against the wind. My black car was the last one in the small lot behind my hair salon, and it was surrounded by trees and bushes, which were shaking in the chill wind. The image of the dragon's eyes flashed across my mind again, and I shook my head. The dream had been haunting me ever since I woke up so abruptly a few days ago, and for some reason, I didn't quite believe it to be a dream.

I was hunting for my car keys in my jeans pocket when the wind gust increased with sudden gusto, and a man's scream of pain echoed throughout the trees. My hand automatically went for the desert eagle tucked in the back of my jeans, my stance ready to bolt if necessary. There was another yell, a few very loud thumps and crashes, and silence. Hesitantly, I unlocked my car and just as the horn did the little "Beep boop," a girl came flying out of the bushes, looking as if she had been mauled by a bear and then some. She managed to flip herself around in the air, landing on her hands on the hood of my car, swiveling herself around and landing on her feet.

I stared as she landed not five feet from me, but she didn't even look my way, or make a sound. The girl didn't seem to register that I was there for several seconds, as she was tense, and looking for someone to come out of the trees after her. Her small frame was covered with wounds of various sizes, the worst being a huge gash across her upper back that would need medical attention. After a few minutes, when no one came out of the woods, she turned her head, glancing at me out of the corner of a very blue eye.

Slowly, I held my hands out to her in the traditional gesture of trust, showing that I was friendly. I was more than disturbed by her sudden appearance, but more so by the sense that I've seen her somewhere before. She turned slightly in my direction, but backed up, putting more distance between us. I furrowed my brows in confusion, but didn't move toward her, I just waited for her to make the next move. I have definitely seen her before, but I realized I didn't have time to think this over now. She was clearly in danger, and judging by the panicked look in her eyes, she knew that more of the people who had been chasing her were coming soon. There wasn't much time.

Considering that it was late fall, and it going to snow soon, I knew she hadn't just been out walking in the woods and she had been attacked. This girl was clearly running from someone, or something. Or both. I frowned at the thought, and took another look at her. The black robe she was wearing was ill fitted, and hastily cut off at the thigh, allowing her to be able to freely move and fight if need be. Her breathing was labored, chest heaving with the effort, and I could smell the fear and terror radiating from her. I knew I had never seen her before, but she was still familiar. Who was she? Maybe she had escaped from kidnappers or would be kidnappers? Or a murderer? I wouldn't dismiss that one from my thoughts.

I didn't know what it was that drew me to this girl, but something about her just screamed at me to help her. It was like looking at Harry again just after he had lost Susan. She seemed so lost, broken, and almost completely destroyed, that I knew I couldn't just leave her there. I bowed my head, and then slowly looked up at her, not quite meeting her eyes. She was looking over at me with out of the corner of her eye, hair catching in the wind.

She was shaking with the cold, and still tense, but hadn't moved further away from me. Her legs were trembling, and she seemed almost on the verge of collapse, but she held herself strong and tall. I finally spoke to her, keeping my voice open and friendly, and carefully keeping my hunger in check.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Will you let me help you?"

She reared her head back a bit at hearing me speak, but then, her eyes took on a guarded expression, but one of careful thought as well. Her unkempt, but long, black hair swung in the wind. Then, she nodded once, looking up, and carefully observed her surroundings. She swayed on her feet again, but didn't move any closer to me. Slowly reaching up, I removed my coat and my hoodie, passing her the thick grey fabric, and slipping my coat back on. The temperature seemed to have dropped another couple degrees in the few minutes that we had been standing there.

She slowly took it from me, with a slight nod of thanks. As she swung it around her shoulders, I spoke, knowing that I needed to get moving, but I couldn't leave her here.

"I'll take you home with me. You'll be safe there." I made sure to sound friendly, but I couldn't keep the concern out of my voice.

We heard movement in the woods, we both turned toward the sound, but still, she hesitated. She didn't know if she could trust me yet, but she had no real choice. She realized her chances of dying would be less with me though, as she moved toward me, eyes guarded, terrified, and exhausted all at the same time.

I felt her eyes follow my movement as I got into my car and started it. She crossed around the front of the vehicle, and slipped into the passenger seat beside me, silent as a wraith. I flicked the heaters on the highest setting, knowing that the leather seats got godawful cold during the winter when the heaters weren't on. I backed out of the parking lot and headed home, my mind reeling with the events of the day. The demon within me roiled in hunger at the idea of feeding, and I forced it back with a push of determined energy. I was mindful to keep my hunger at bay as I drove home, and she eyed me curiously the whole way, as if trying to figure out my plan behind allowing her safety with me.

Truth be told, I didn't know exactly why I had all of a sudden felt the burning need to keep her near me and safe from whomever had hurt her. But empty night, she was wounded badly. My hoodie had several spreading crimson stains on it, and I was pretty sure she had several broken ribs, judging from the way she was gingerly holding herself straight up and away from the backrest.

The rest of the way home was quiet, the gentle humming of the heaters and the car's engine as I drove down the highways the only sounds besides my thoughts and our gentle breathing. I was trying to remember what exactly I had to provide for another human being in my apartment, and where I had stashed the huge medical kit Harry had forced on me. I turned off the road, and into the parking lot of my apartment building, and I parked the car close to the front doors.

I turned to her, and she looked at me, terror, shock, pain, and something I didn't quite recognize glimmering in her eyes. I nodded, and exited the car, coming around to open her door for her. She exited the car slowly, and paused with a wince of pain. I shut the door, and waited for her to get her bearings, guessing that trying to rush her would only make things worse. She looked around, completely, her blue eyes taking in all the details she could; I could see her making notes in her mind. In a way, she slightly reminded me of Harry. He too always noted down his surroundings at all times, as he got into too many bad situations to not to.

I moved forward, my black hair shaking free from its ponytail in the powerful wind, and she followed hesitantly at my gesture and smile for her to come along. Together, we made our way into the front lobby of the building, where, thankfully, it was empty. I let her get her bearings, and she gratefully took the chance, taking in the elegant stone flooring, the large, empty security desk, the rows of mailboxes behind the desk, and the footman at the elevator doors. She looked to him when she was ready to move on. The footman, his name tag read 'Earl', waved him in, pressing the elevator button, and she stood near him.

"A friend of yours Thomas?" asked Earl as they waited for the elevator to come down. I felt the girl's terror rise at the question, but to my surprise, I didn't quite know how to answer. I just nodded, and just then, the elevator dinged and the doors swooped open. I entered first, and she slowly followed, her bare feet padding over the hard stone floor. I noticed that she tended to walk on her toes as I absently pressed the button for my floor. I was trying to remember where the medical kit was.

We reached my apartment without any incident, and I could feel her beginning to calm down, just slightly. I unlocked my door, and I entered first, checking to make sure that Harry hadn't broken in again or something. She followed after a moment, and looked around curiously as I took off my boots. She was still taking in the stylish place that I lived in as I led her into my large bathroom, and she looked about, finally taking a tentative seat on my bathtub ledge. I smiled at her, reassured that she trusted me that tiniest bit necessary to sit down in my presence.

"Stay here. I'm going to go get my medical kit so I can tend to your wounds, all right?" I said, worry starting to etch into my voice as I saw the amount of blood she was losing. My sweatshirt was going to be unsalvageable, and I knew that a few of the wounds she had taken were going to scar quite nicely. She had several smaller wounds on her legs, and a couple on her arms and hands, from what I could see and remember, but what worried me was the broken ribs, and the wound across her shoulders.

She looked up at me, and nodded once, head hanging down tiredly. Her hands tightened on my hoodie. She had refused to let go of it since I had given it to her. Her eyes watched as I left the bathroom, and then flicked over to the mess of hair products, brushes, and my personal hygiene supplies scattered over the bathroom vanity. The dark stone floors were still clean, the stone of the vanity matched, the large circular mirror hanging above the sink. I walked down the hallway, and finally remembered that Harry and I had stashed the huge medical kit in my linen closet. I lugged the huge thing out, and made it back down the hallway, kicking the closet door closed behind me.

Harry. Maybe it was a good thing that he had made me keep the damn thing. I re-entered the bathroom, and found that she had removed the sweatshirt, and had her legs now hanging in the tub, droplets of her blood staining the white surface. I opened the medical kit, locating the things I would need with swift efficiency, coming to kneel beside her.

"I'm going to need to touch, okay?" I said, my hands hovering by her shoulder, where a large gash was torn along her bicep. She looked down at me, and I didn't move. This was probably about a thousand times scarier for her than it normally would, given the amount of mental turmoil I guessed she was going through. I stayed still, kneeling down on the tiled floor. I had a gauze pad and a roll of bandages balanced on my knee, and held a needle and thread along with anesthetic.

I waited for her to give permission to tend her wounds, and, after a few moments, she gave it. The girl moved slightly closer to me, angling herself so I could easily tend the wound on her shoulder. I sterilized my needle and thread, cleaned the wound, pausing when I saw her wince, and applied the local anesthetic. She sighed as the pain faded away, and I nodded as stitched it closed with the same efficiency I had when cutting hair. I sighed as I wrapped the wound with the bandages. One down, who knows how many more to go.

It turned out to be eight wounds I had to stitch. The others were just cleaned, and wrapped occasionally. She let me tend them all, never making a sound of complaint even once, which struck me as odd. Though, when it came to the one across her back, I had to have her remove her shirt, which was a problem for her, as she refused. After some thinking,I took the scissors and just cut the fabric away. She didn't protest and sighed in relief when she realized that I could tend the wound and not have to remove her clothes. Good, I kept her as comfortable as she could be.

After delicately removing several large shards of glass from the deepest parts of the open wound, I cleaned out the wound using water from the bathtub faucet and then applied the anesthetic, waiting to stitch the wound closed. Her should twitched when I lowered my hands, her head turning to look at me. Her bright blue eyes had softened the slightest bit with gratitude, but there was still the amount of fear there that no one should have to deal with.

But the scars. Empty night, for a girl so young, she had so many scars. At least a dozen of them trailed along her back, and many more were on her arms. I felt the hunger swirl in me, and I repressed it, which took focused effort. I stared at the scars again, and the new wounds, the last one that I was bandaging, and I felt a foreign bout of fierce protection sweep over me, which I tried to shove away, but couldn't.

I replaced the medical supplies in the kit, and moved the huge thing into the corner, wedged by the sink and wall. She watched, eyes still radiating terror and pain, but stood when I asked her to, gingerly straightening up. I came forward in a kneel again, and she froze.

"You have a dislocated rib. Let me just see." She didn't move, but let me come close again, and I ran my palms down her ribs until I found the one I was looking for. On her left side, there was a indentation, clearly indicating a dislocated left rib. Applying gentle pressure, I eased the bone back into place with an audible click, and she winced in pain. I froze after I was done, feeling the steady rise of her ribs underneath my palms. She heaved a hefty sigh of relief, and I backed away, and rose to a slow stand.

She had pulled the hoodie around herself again, but she nodded her gratitude to me. I nodded back, and beckoned her to follow me. She stepped out of the bathroom, moving to follow me, and I noticed that she was following me more closely than she had before, about six feet behind me instead of ten.

I led her to my room, where she refused to enter, and I could understand as to why. Slowly, so she could see I wasn't going to hurt her, I reached into my clothes drawers and found a long sleeve black shirt, and a pair of pajama pants, which I set on top of my dresser. I watched her, and she reached a decision.

She entered slowly, and looked around, taking in the tangle of blankets and sheets on my bed, the baskets of dirty laundry, and baskets of folded, clean laundry. I smiled at her, while fetching another hoodie for her. She seemed to like the thick one she had, so I selected another one very similar to it, except that it was a deep jewel blue. I looked back out of the corner of my eye, and saw that she was looking out the window, across from the door, at the view of the lake. She gazed at it for a second, and moved back, turning to face me.

I let her stare at me, knowing that she was still in shock and terrified. I moved toward her, offering her the clothing. She accepted them with slightly shaking hands, and nodded her thanks with just the ghost of a smile on her lips. I left her to change, and waited just outside the door, leaning against the wall. I heard the rustling of fabric and a zipper being zipped up, and then she emerged, and I couldn't resist the urge to smile at her slim form in my too big clothes. It was so darn cute. She stared at me, and hunched her shoulders, folding her arms around herself, hand holding the dirty clothes. I held out a hand for them, and she gave them to me.

"Get a look around. Get comfortable. Help yourself. You are more than welcome to stay here with me." I returned her confused stare with a smile, but restrained my roiling hunger.

I led her to the kitchen, where she stood in the middle of the room and took in her surroundings. The living room was state of the art, all brown and gold furniture with a huge flat screen TV. There were floor to ceiling windows across one wall, and the other had a desk against it. I watched as she inspected the kitchen, black stove, granite counters with an island in the middle, large sink. She padded across the apartment, across the plush rug in the short hallway where she inspected my guest room (never been used.), my pantry, and a small room that had nothing in it. I could feel the confusion radiating off of her, wondering why on earth I had nothing in there. She came back to me, and watched as I hunted through my fridge, looking for something to feed her.

She came over to the sink, and I watched as, after hunting for it, she selected a clean glass from my cabinet, and poured herself a glass of water from the tap on the fridge. She drank it down, and refilled it, drinking that one more slowly. She moved away from me, and sat down gingerly on one of my bar stools at the island. I began to heat up some stew that Harry had brought over one night, and I remembered that it had been pretty good. She watched, and I felt her stare against my back.

I turned, and wondered how I could communicate with this girl. I leaned against the counter, absently stirring the stew for her. It smelled good, and had lots of thick broth with the beef and vegetables, complete with cubes of potato. She got up, and got another glass of water. I ran a hand through my hair, and she watched the movement, eyeing me. She looked away after a few moments. It clicked in my head then, and I rummaged through my junk drawer for a pen and a notepad. She watched, while drinking some more water, as I passed it to her seat at the counter. I stirred the stew, deemed it hot, and poured it into a bowl, sliding it and a spoon to her. And sat down and nodded again, before beginning to eat.

"The notepad is for you. Will you write to communicate to me?" I crossed my fingers behind my back for luck. She looked at me, ate a bite of stew, and took up the pen. She wrote one word.

'Yes.'

I sighed in relief, and watched as she wrote down something else, her neat, looping handwriting forming a question.

'Who are you?'

"My name is Thomas Raith. I'm a hairdresser." I replied. And a white court vampire, but you don't need to know that quite yet.

"Who are you?" I asked, and she furrowed her eyebrows slightly, but wrote something down. I read the note.

'I don't know anymore. I lost my identity when they kidnapped me.'

I didn't know what to say to that. What DOES one say to that? She finished her stew, and pushed the bowl away. I took it, absently setting it in the sink with all the other dirty dishes. I heard her scribble down another note, with the emotions of guarded confusion and genuine curiosity coming from her. I resisted the hunger and leaned back toward her, reading the note.

'Why did you save me?'

I tucked my hair behind my ear, and she watched the movement. "I saved you because you reminded me of myself and someone I know, who is close to me. You needed someone, and I wanted to help you. I hope I haven't hurt you. And I don't want you to be afraid of me. I want to be your friend." I surprised myself, saying those words. They were true, every single word, and I still wondered why I felt this way toward her.

I saw it. The barest ghost of a smile brushed her lips, and she wrote something down. I studied her face as she wrote. She was young, maybe her mid-twenties, and had the natural beauty every girl aimed for. Long, dark lashes framed her huge blue eyes, a cute nose, full lips, and pale skin. Her hair was long, black, and utterly untamed. And shaggy. She turned the note to me. I read it.

'You haven't hurt me Thomas. Thank you, again. And maybe, over time, we could become friends. I wouldn't know. Many things have happened. I don't know quite what it means to have a friend.'

So a friend betrayed her. Was that it? I wasn't going to ask, not yet. It was too early. She needed to calm down, gain her bearings a bit, let her wounds, both mental and physical, heal. But for now, she could stay here. I quite liked the idea of protecting her. "What can I call you?"

She blinked. And wrote down a name, after getting a new post it note.

'Emrys.'

I smiled. Emrys. It suited her.

"Emrys. Would you stay here? You're more than welcome to live here with me. If you wish." I had to seriously work to contain the hope that I felt at the question.

'Thomas... What if they come for you?' Her eyes were worried now, along with the still shell shocked look she bore.

"Then I will take care of them." Something in my voice must have convinced her that I knew what I was talking about.

'I'll stay. Thank you.'