Dok was going to kill him for this. Eviscerate, mutilate, emasculate.

Heinrich didn't even see what hit him after he unlocked the door to Tamara's room. There was a blur of dark movement, a muffled shout, then his whole body was slammed into the far wall. The world got very loud and very confusing.

If only he had trusted his instincts an hour before when he knew – somehow knew – that something was amiss. It might have been a sound, a smell, a displacement of air molecules. Whatever it was, he had realized it far too late to prevent disaster.

Looking up now he saw Tamara staring him down with what must have been disgust on her tear-stained face. Heinrich really wanted to say something. "Let me help you" or "I'm sorry" would have been good, but between the stutter and the ringing in his ears, he couldn't manage anything intelligible.

His attempt at words came out in an avalanche of stammers and gibberish. She responded by backing away with a look of horror, then turning and disappearing down the hallway.

Great, now she hated him too.

Heinrich tried to shake his head to clear the brain fog, but that hurt too much. Mustering his strength, focusing on his limbs, he managed to get back onto his feet. The hall of doors spun before him and he felt pretty sure that he had sustained a concussion of some severity. Using the wall as a crutch he stumbled towards the stairwell. Inside, there was no sign of Tamara so he reasoned she must have headed downstairs towards safety and the lab.

A wave of dizziness caught him and he ended up clinging to the railing, hardly able to progress. Down was his only option, despite what probably awaited him there.

Well, what did it matter? The doctor had already taken away so much. What was his life worth at this point, anyway? Hadn't he secretly wanted to end it himself a dozen times before?

Joining up with Millennium two years ago had seemed like the only option at the time, although Heinrich had come to regret the decision very quickly. Getting the special assignment from the Major had been something of a reprieve from his new personal hell, but the scorn and jeers from his comrades had only increased afterwards. Maybe jealousy was a part of it. After all, he had been tasked with spending his days with a female for company. His training load had significantly lessened; he didn't have to do all of the push-ups and multi-kilometer runs. He even got to launder a girl's unmentionables every Sunday.

And honestly, it had helped to keep him going these past months. She was pleasant enough as a person, probably as lonely as he was. He daresay that before today she had given an actual damn about him, despite the ridiculousness of their respective situations and being thrown together.

Oh well. He was almost to the lab now, the urge to throw up growing stronger by the moment. Wishful thinking, but maybe he could will himself to die from this head injury before they could demote him. That would save his father some embarrassment anyway.

Must be awful, being related to such a pathetic excuse for a human…

It had started with a migraine.

Zorin was used to them, to some extent, but lately they had been interfering with her ability to function. Being unable to sleep for days on end wasn't exactly healthy for a vampire, artificial or not. She was damned to have to ask the doctor for help, but she needed the relief in order to get through the drills and duties of the night.

Of course by the time she got to him, the distracting pain had finally started to taper off. But then she couldn't make an excuse fast enough that would allow her to leave. He wanted to talk about her symptoms and restlessness as his curiosity knew no bounds when it came to his creations.

Damn damn damn.

But as luck would have it, things got interesting when a distressed-looking soldier burst into the lab, just in time to get sick all over the tile floor. Dok looked nearly as shaken when he saw who it was, although Zorin didn't recognize the young man as a person of any note. A low ranking nobody with a bloody nose. Still human, still pathetic.

She listened to their conversation with a vague curiosity.

"T-t-t-t-t-attacked. Has the thing with the m-m-m-m-blood. On the m-m-m-dress!"

"Where is she? Was she hurt? Look at me, focus!"

Dok shook the poor man by his shoulders in frustration but could get no further reply.

"Lieutenant!" he yelled. "Your assistance!"

Zorin did not mistake the urgency in his voice, for she gave none of her usual sass and got her boots back on in record time.

"I need you to locate my subject and bring her here," Dok said while handing the soldier a cloth to wipe his mouth and nose. "She may not be alone. Gott verdammt!"

"Easy there, Doktor. I'll find her for you."

In no time whatsoever she was standing inside the room where the young woman had hidden herself. It had been embarrassingly easy to find her, but to be fair Zorin could smell her blood.

"I know you're in here. Dok sent me to check on you."

Boy that sounded lame as shit.

The lights were off in the old classroom, but Zorin didn't need fluorescents in order to see every detail perfectly. Her heightened sense of hearing immediately picked up the smallest rustle of sound. It was in the back of the room, behind several rows of stacked chairs. Zorin pinpointed the exact location and moved a stack of the chairs out of the way to see what was behind them. They were actually quite heavy, relatively speaking. Not for her superhuman strength, but she wasn't sure how the weak human had managed to wedge herself behind them. And in the dark, no less.

Yep, that was the look of an abused woman. She knew that look well.

"God, what a mess."

The heap somehow curled in on itself even more.

Don't bully her. Just try to be patient, the doctor had said. Rip would be laughing like a crazed hyena to see her in this situation.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you. It's going to be all right. Sorry, that's all the clichés I know."

That actually got a reaction and the hunched form looked up in Zorin's general direction.

"What? Who are you?" The voice was hoarse.

"You know what, I'll just turn on the lights," Zorin said. "Don't uhh, freak out or anything," she added, considering the usual reaction when a person saw her facial tattoos for the first time.

When Zorin returned she observed that her target was squinting in the harsh light. A startled expression crossed her face as soon as she saw her.

"Not what you were expecting, huh?"

Tamara broke eye contact and looked away. "I just want to be left alone right now."

"Nope, not an option. The doc needs you, so you're coming with me." She shoved another stack of chairs out of the way, which screeched loudly as they moved across the vinyl floor.

"Stay away from me! Don't touch me!" Tamara stood up, her back to the wall and fists clenched. She actually looked half-ready for a fight, which made the other woman chuckle.

"Okay, so you've got some balls. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No!"

"I'm a good listener."

"Just leave me alone."

"We either talk or we move. Your choice, Girly."

Tamara considered for a second, then relaxed her hands. Her gaze fell to the floor.

"I'm not talking to you."

"Then you better start moving your ass if you don't want me to carry you."

"Please go away," she responded tearfully. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

This was getting nowhere and now there was crying involved. It was time for a change of tactics.

Zorin pulled out a cigarette, then took her time lighting it and taking the first few puffs. She casually propped her right hand against the wall.

"Fine, that's just fine. I can be patient."

Dok was furious, but he tried to stay calm and act rationally. There would be time for big feelings later on. Right now the goal was damage control.

He hadn't left the lab as he needed to deal with his injured patient and prepare for Tamara's arrival, but he had managed to put together most of what had happened via several telephone calls and a visit from one of the base commanders. Surveillance footage had shown two unauthorized men sneaking into the old restricted area of the base. They had gone into Tamara's room and then attacked Heinrich when he went to check on her. Tamara had fled to the fourth floor and was still there with Zorin; he had given instructions for them to be left alone and the incident kept under the radar. At this time there was no clear evidence on who the masked culprits were.

It seemed pretty clear what he was dealing with here. She would be traumatized for sure after an event like that.

The doctor was relieved when the two women finally walked silently into his lab, Zorin only loosely steering his charge from behind. He raised his eyebrows at her in a silent query as they both helped Tamara into a chair.

"We're even now, Dok."

"Fine. You may go."

He noted Zorin's eyes resting on Tamara for a split second, then with a verbal tch she turned and made a hasty exit.

Once they were alone, the doctor gave Tamara a pill. "It's just something for anxiety," he claimed, handing her a cup as well. As she shakily took the drug and the water, he sat and made a cursory note of her physical state.

Her clothes were ruined in the front and there were a few bloodstains on the left side. Her face was ashen and her eyes red. Also her wrists looked inflamed and her overall coordination was somewhat poor.

"I will need to check you for injuries and take some samples, but I'd like to ask a few questions first. I'll attempt to keep to yes or no answers so that you can nod or shake your head. Is that acceptable?"

She closed her eyes, then nodded.

"Can you confirm how many men attacked you? Fingers is fine."

Tamara held up two fingers.

"Good. Were you threatened with a weapon?"

A nod.

"Did they strike or cut you at all?"

Another nod.

"They touched you inappropriately?"

A sniff, then another slow nod.

"Did they..?" He cleared his throat. "Did either of them manage to penetrate you? You know, before they left?"

She hesitated, then shook her head no.

Dok inhaled sharply through his nose and then relaxed a bit into his chair. Nothing about this situation was good, but it was the best news he'd had so far. At least he could rule out sexually transmitted diseases.

"Now, were these men unusual in any way?"

She blinked her eyes open, staring into the empty water glass in her lap for a long while.

"I don't know what you mean. I was… They spoke German."

"Yes, but you understand a little, right?" He scooted his chair closer to her eagerly, which caused her to flinch a bit at his approach. "Did either of them mention wanting to – bear with me – bite you?"

Tamara seemed shocked at the question, her mouth forming an "o" without any sound coming out. She hung her head and spoke so softly he had to strain to hear it.

"He did bite me."

"Let me see!" the doctor cried.

His anger flared once again when she showed him the wound on her shoulder, which appeared to be a moderately deep knife cut. Below the jagged bottom edge the skin was red and inflamed with half of a visible bitemark.

That certainly confirmed it wasn't an artificial who had attacked her. If it had been, she would now be beyond his help.

"Listen to me. I'm certain the last thing you want is to be touched right now. But I need to fix your shoulder in order to prevent infection and confirm there aren't any other injuries."

Though her movements were slow and jarring, Tamara allowed Dok to lead her to the examination table. He started with her head, probing gingerly with his fingers in order to check for bumps or other injuries. There was nothing too serious, so he decided to go ahead and deal with the shoulder wound right away.

He adjusted the bed so that she could lean back but still remain mostly upright. After having her rest her head facing away to the right, he exposed the left shoulder completely by cutting away some of the dress fabric. His camera had been laid out along with the usual medical tools; it had already been put to use in capturing photographic evidence from the attack. Dok snapped multiple pictures of the cut from different angles without comment. In one of them, he held out a small ruler alongside it for reference.

It was hardly as vicious as the wounds his artificial vampires could inflict, but the sight disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. It seemed like there was a fetishist in the ranks. And the fact that they had chosen to target his subject…

Tamara adjusted her position slightly which brought him back to the moment. He still needed to focus on what was in front of him.

"I still have to take some samples before I can numb the pain; otherwise the results will be contaminated. It's very important we find out who did this."

She nodded and clutched the pillow he had given her tighter, burrowing her head into it slightly.

"Try to hold still for just a little while longer. It's going to hurt but I promise to be efficient." He quickly calculated the three spots that would need to be sampled.

"Here we go."

She made a muffled sound into the pillow as he swabbed underneath the bottom edge of the wound.

"Doktor."

"I'm almost done."

"Could I..?" she broke off in a pained hiss. "Could I sleep here tonight?"

That question caught him off guard and he momentarily lost track of which cotton swab he had just used. It was actually very sensible that she would not want to return to the scene of the incident so soon, especially before the culprits had been discovered. And yet somehow it still surprised him that she would ask for such a thing.

"Of course. There is no question of that."

At that she took a deep breath and exhaled, muscles visibly relaxing. Even some of the tension in her tortured shoulder seemed to melt away.

"I think I would feel safer here," Tamara said sleepily, slurring her words just slightly.

The anxiety meds were clearly starting to have an effect. He was completely horrified at the situation that had prompted her to say it, but for some reason he noticed a warm feeling rising in his chest upon hearing those words. As he expertly worked at cleaning and suturing the flesh back together, he contemplated what that feeling could be.

Notes:

Reading over the first 20 chapters, I've been thinking that I really want to improve my writing. I'm open to concrit but I've never explicitly stated that before. So basically, if any readers have something that they WANT to say but were concerned how I would take it, consider this an invitation.

No pressure, though. My editor tells me once a week that I need to "describe things more," so at least I've go that going for me, heh.