The Road to Recovery (Madison)

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre grabbed the man's wrist before he could strike Madison again.

He'd only just gotten home, and upon hearing Madison's screams he'd readied his weapons and sneaked around to the back of the house, hoping to catch who he though was Darian off guard. What he'd seen instead, though, actually filled him with more rage than the sight of Darian would have: a man who could have only been Steven beating away at Madison mercilessly. And there Sastre was, shotgun in one hand and machete in the other... It had taken every ounce of his self-control not to simply murder the man right then and there, but he'd promised Madison a long time ago that he wouldn't kill Steven, and he wouldn't break a promise.

Putting his weapons away quickly, Sastre had stepped forward silently, coming up behind Steven and grabbing his wrist. Before the other man could act, Sastre dug his thumb into the bundle of nerves there, numbing his arm up to the elbow. Applying more pressure, the hunter managed to drop the larger man to his knees.

"You must be Steven," he said softly, not bothering to conceal the wrath in his voice. "I've heard a lot about you. Nothing good." His eyes were locked on the cop's, and they seemed to be aglow with an inner fire, an intensity that Madison had never seen there before. Giving one more cruel jab with his thumb, Sastre released the man, letting him fall to the ground, clutching his wrist.

Turning his back on Steven, Sastre knelt down beside Madison, his expression softening as he slowly helped her up. "Go upstairs and wait for me, alright?" He kissed her gently on the top of her head before returning his attention to Steven, who had stood up and was glaring at the hunter murderously.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Steven asked, laughing to himself. Still flexing the fingers on his numb hand, he pointed at Sastre with his other. "You're the guy who's nailing Madison? What are you, eighty?" He laughed again, sauntering toward Sastre. "Oh, this is rich. I really didn't peg her as the 'daddy's girl' type..."

"I'm not even going to bother asking you to leave," Sastre responded, not letting Steven's words get to him. "So, if we could just get this over with without all the macho posturing I'd really appreciate it." He watched Steven approach, disgusted with the man's presence in the home that he and Madison shared. But he'd wanted this to happen, wanted Steven to show up here, thereby finally giving Sastre an excuse to put the bastard down. Steven stopped mere inches from the hunter, looking down at him with a confident grin. "The sooner I drop your sorry ass, the sooner I can go make sure Madison's alright," Sastre said, locking eyes with Steven.

It happened pretty much exactly like Sastre thought it would.

Steven rolled his eyes, scoffing at Sastre and turning away, as if he was simply going to leave. It didn't come as any surprise, though, when he spun around quickly and delivered a bone-jarring right hook to the hunter's jaw. He followed up with a sharp jab to Sastre's abdomen before grabbing the front of the older man's shirt and spinning him around, tossing him to the ground. Laughing all the while, Steven began kicking Sastre while he was down.

While this was occurring, Sastre allowed his mind to wander, studying Steven's technique and breaking down all of his movements. The man was strong, but there really wasn't anything behind his blows. No doubt he was a decent fighter, certainly able to take down common thugs and probably break up a bar brawl--or start one. But he had a lot of wasted momentum, and he didn't put anything behind his strikes. Of course, Sastre wasn't the best judge of such things. When you were used to being beat around by vampires, werewolves, and the like, the average tough-guy just didn't do much for you. Steven's hits seemed like there were coming in slow motion, and they lacked the power and pain that Sastre was used to.

Alright, now that he knew what he was really up against, Sastre was ready to end this.

Rolling forward to avoid any more kicks, the hunter sprang to his feet and went on the offensive. Steven looked at him with shock as the hunter stepped forward and drove his open palm into the cop's chest, knocking the breath out of him and causing him to stagger back a pace. Following up, Sastre delivered a series of sharp, quick jabs to Steven's ribs and stomach, and when the larger man doubled over, Sastre brought his knee up into his chin. As Steven tottered sideways, Sastre drew his hand back and finished his assault with another open-palm strike to the bastard's temple, knocking him to the floor.

"Now, listen closely," Sastre said to him, crouching on the ground beside him. "You are only alive right now because Madison made me promise that I wouldn't kill you. Do you understand? She has spared your life today. I expect you to return the favor." Steven could only nod dumbly at the hunter's words. "You're going to leave, now, and never come back. If you lay a hand on her ever again, I will make sure it is the last mistake you ever make. I swore I wouldn't kill you, but I have friends who aren't so concerned with such things."

Hauling Steven to his feet, Sastre half carried, half dragged him to the front door. Opening it, the hunter shoved Steven out onto the porch, smiling coldly as the cop stumbled and fell down the stairs.

"And enjoy telling all your buddies at the station that you got beaten up by a man twice your age. I'm sure they'll just love that." Flashing Steven a grin, Sastre shut the door, locking and dead-bolting it just in case before heading to the back door to do the same. Finally satisfied that the place was about as secure as it could be, he then went to find Madison, unsure even if she'd gone upstairs as he'd asked or not.

[madison]

I can hear the devil call my name
Hopeless, I’m falling down
Filthy, I can’t wake up
I cannot hold on, I will not let go
Worthless, it’s over now
Guilty, there’s no way out

When the next blow didn’t come, Madison thought Steven was going to resort to something worse. She was dazed, her ribs, her arms, and her face all on fire. Madison had curled in on herself, sobbing quietly when she heard a sound she hadn’t expected. Steven crying out in pain. She thought maybe she had imagined it, but then she heard the soft sound of Sastre’s voice and she turned to look at them.

Sastre had Steven by the wrist, her ex husband kneeling on the floor, pain mixed with anger scrunched his features. Sastre’s gaze was heated, intense, and for a moment she saw the rage inside of him. It didn’t scare her. Sastre could never scare her, but she could and did worry for him, about this sudden change of events. She worried what Steven would do when this was over.

When Sastre turned towards her all the rage that he held seemingly disappeared and all she could see in his eyes for her was love. Madison knew he would never turn that rage on her. Sastre helped her up and she cried out. Her arms and face were red, lip bleeding where the belt had caught her in the mouth. She had no doubt the redness would soon turn to bruises and that her ribs were already purple. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

She glanced from Steven to Sastre when the hunter asked her to go upstairs and wait for him. There was a worried protest sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. Sastre wouldn’t break his promise to her and they could figure out everything else as it came. She was slightly in shock, the world taking on a surreal tinge to it, but she felt the press of his lips to her head and a warmth began spreading through her, a small comfort.

Gently hugging her ribs Madison went to the stairs, doing as Sastre asked. She only made it about half way before sitting on one of the steps and leaning her back against the wall. Tears slowly slid down her closed eyes. God she hurt and now Sastre was down there with Steven. She heard her ex husbands words as he tried to tear into Sastre. His words vicious and venom filled.

When she heard the sounds of a struggle Madison began to shake. It was like before when Justin had gone after Steven and beaten him into a coma. Steven had backing and she had no doubt he’d come after Sastre with all of the power in his arsenal. Sastre thought he was untouchable, but he was still human. Steven would find a way. If Steven found a way to hurt Sastre, it would be Madison’s fault.

Hunching over despite the pain in her ribs, Madison sobbed. Tears mixed with the blood from her busted lip, sliding down her chin and onto her shirt. Madison knew Steven wasn’t going to take this lying down. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

[Florian Raniari]

Silence now dominated the house.

As Sastre went searching for Madison, a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He hadn't done anything particularly damaging to Steven, but all of his strikes had served a purpose. The man had been disheartened and disoriented, dazed and humbled, and the smile on Sastre's face broadened when he thought of the other effects that his assault would have on the man. In fact, the hunter sort of wished that he could be around to see it.

Steven, at least, would be out of the picture for a few days.

When Sastre finally caught site of Madison huddled on the stairs, the smile fell away and he moved quickly to sit beside her. He placed one arm gently around her shoulders, not wanting to hurt her any more than she already had been. Making soothing sounds, he carefully kissed the top of her head, all the while mentally commanding the anger that had been welling up inside him to subside.

"It's alright, Madison. It's fine," he said quietly, holding her to him as gently as possible. "He's gone now, alright? Everything's okay now. I'm here, Madison... I'm here..."

[madison]

I can hear the devil call my name
Hopeless, I’m falling down
Filthy, I can’t wake up
I cannot hold on, I will not let go
Worthless, it’s over now
Guilty, there’s no way out

The fear that had been thrumming through Madison’s body subsided a little when Sastre slipped an arm around her. She pressed her forehead against his chest, the side of her face already bruised and tender, and cried into his shirt. Fingers gripped the fabric as tears and blood mixed into it. Sastre was solid and real and safe, and she breathed in the scent of him, listening to the sound of his voice as he reassured her that Steven was gone. He’d be back she knew.

Her body hurt, bruises littering her face and arms and her ribs. Her soul was suddenly weary again, as if the presence of Steven had cast a dark shadow over her. He always found a way to do it. Now she was scared for Sastre, scared of what might happen because of her. She should have just continued to see Steven. Then he wouldn’t have come here. He wouldn’t have seen Sastre.

Shivering in Sastre’s arms she looked up at him, her face a mess from the bruises and tears and blood. “I’m so sorry. He’s seen your face. He’ll…he’ll...” Shakes her head not really certain what he’ll do, but knowing it’s nothing good. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She repeated it over and over again, shaking her head and sobbing.

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre gently rubbed her shoulder, nodding a bit at her words.

"He'll be out of the picture for a while. A few days at least," he told her, kissing her forehead lightly. "He's not going to be in any condition to do much of anything for a while, I can promise you that. And in the time that we've gained, I'll finish taking care of things and this will all be over soon. Just trust me, alright? Please?"

Very carefully, mindful of Madison's numerous injuries, Sastre picked her up, cradling her in his arms as he made his way toward the nearest bathroom to get her cleaned up. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Sastre was becoming aware of his own injuries, slight though they were. His ribs would be bruised, though the damage was minimal, and his jaw clicked when he moved it. Taking blows had been part of his training so long ago, though, and most of Steven's hits hadn't even done any serious damage.

Entering the bathroom and setting Madison gently down on the counter, Sastre dampened a wash clothe and patted lightly at her split lip, and the gash on her cheek. His brow furrowed, and he felt a bit sick to see her in such condition, but he put his personal feelings aside as he continued to clean her up.

"He really did a number on you, didn't he?" Sastre asked softly, his words thick with emotion. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, Madison..."

[madison]

I can hear the devil call my name
Hopeless, I’m falling down
Filthy, I can’t wake up
I cannot hold on, I will not let go
Worthless, it’s over now
Guilty, there’s no way out

Madison nodded when Sastre asked her to trust him. She did, with her whole heart. His hands were warm and comforting against her, his voice soothing. Her sobs slowed as Sastre lifted her. Despite his gentleness pain still coursed through her. A series of soft hiccups came as the sobbing slowed and Sastre set her on the counter. When he brought the washcloth to her lip she winced.

All Madison wanted to do was crawl into a hot shower. She still felt Steven’s lingering touch and all she wanted to do was burn away the memory with scalding hot water and as much soap as she could manage to wash herself with it. At the very least a hot shower would relax her muscles.

Her threat tightened again when Sastre spoke and she heard the emotion in his voice. Reaching out a hand she cupped his cheek. “It’s not – hiccup –you’re fault. It’s mine. I should have been – hiccup – paying attention.” She tried to smile at him, but winced when it pulled on her lip. “I’m sorry.” She gave another soft hiccup before hanging her head, feeling ashamed.

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre smiled a bit as she apologized.

"Stop that," he said softly, tilting her head a bit to get a better look at the gash on her cheek. Bringing the rag up to gently pat at it, he furrowed his brow, once again having to mentally command himself to relax.

God, he'd wanted to hurt Steven so badly, more than he'd ever wanted to hurt anyone besides Darian. And it would have been easy to do so, too. As it was, the humiliating beating that Sastre had given the man had only taken a handful of seconds, and given enough time alone with him the hunter could have really accomplished something. He was very, very good at hurting people...

Stepping back and looking Madison over, he felt that old, familiar rage welling up inside him. He closed his eyes for a moment, steadied his breathing, and silently recited a mantra or two to dull his emotions and distance his mind from the current situation. He loved Madison, but he couldn't risk losing control right now.

"Can you stand on your own?" he asked. "I think a hot shower might do some good for your bruises. After that, a bit of reiki will help with the pain and the swelling..."

[madison]

I can hear the devil call my name
Hopeless, I’m falling down
Filthy, I can’t wake up
I cannot hold on, I will not let go
Worthless, it’s over now
Guilty, there’s no way out

A small smile passed Madison’s lips when Sastre tilted her head back and she looked into his eyes. She never saw any anger towards her, or disappointment. It seemed the only thing she ever saw was love and compassion for her. Sometimes Madison wondered if she were just being blind again, not wanting to see the rest, but then she realized it was just her fears because of what Steven had done to her.

She flinched slightly when he pressed the cloth against her cheek. God she hadn’t even noticed it. Madison wondered what other injuries she had missed. She watched quietly as he stepped back, saw a flicker of anger flash through his eyes as he looked her over, and as quickly as the thought came that the anger was meant for her, it vanished. She knew better and she was trying not to let her fears and insecurities get to her.

Madison slid off the counter when he asked if she could stand by herself, her entire upper body straining in protest, but her legs held her weight. She wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, but she also didn’t want Sastre to go. It was a lingering fear left over that if he walked into the next room, or she couldn’t see him that something bad was going to happen.

She looked from the shower to him and then nodded, not wanting to sound foolish. Madison figured she had been silly enough for one day. “I..I’ll be fine,” She said in a quiet voice. Madison was used to taking care of herself after one of Steven’s beatings. Not having someone there to do it for her. She liked the fact that Sastre was there, and she didn’t want him from her sight for even a moment.

“Don’t go,” She whispered. “Please?”

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre smiled comfortingly at her.

"I won't go anywhere, I promise. I'll wait right here until you're done, alright?" He stepped forward, kissing her lightly on the top of her head before turning his back to her, giving her a bit of privacy.

Closing his eyes for a moment of concentration, Sastre slipped a hand up his shirt to rest on his ribs. Steven's kicks hadn't done any real damage, he knew, but he'd be a bit stiff for a while if he didn't take care of the bruising now. A light sigh escaped him as the familiar, tingling warmth spread out from the palm of his hand, penetrating the bruises and easing the tightness and ache. It didn't take much, as the reiki always seemed to work better when he used it on himself, and before long he was breathing easier, feeling not only physically, but more mentally relaxed as well.

Next, he rubbed his jaw absently a bit before applying pressure and willing his personal healing energies to go to work on whatever damage had been done there. The deep ache he'd been experiencing faded, followed by a sense of general well-being that, thankfully, took his mind off the fact that Madison was more than likely disrobing right behind him.

The anger that he'd been feeling since the fight slowly ebbed away, replaced by a clarity of thought that Sastre knew he needed right now. Detached as his mind now was from the situation, he could see how permanently maiming Steven, or beating him to within an inch of his life, would have been a very bad idea. As it stood, the man would only experience a few days of discomfort, and a short stay in a hospital if he knew what was good for him. No permanent damage, not even a mark to prove that he'd even been beaten...

And soon it wouldn't matter any more. Soon, if all went according to plan, Sastre, Madison, and Justin would be far, far away from here.

[madison]

I can hear the devil call my name
Hopeless, I’m falling down
Filthy, I can’t wake up
I cannot hold on, I will not let go
Worthless, it’s over now
Guilty, there’s no way out

Madison’s eyes closed when she felt his warm, gently kiss on her head and then smiled a little when Sastre turned to protect Madison’s modesty. That was Sastre though. Always thoughtful of her concerns, comforting to her fears, and gentle with her in every way. Sastre was the complete opposite of Steven and she felt more than blessed to have found him, and to know he loved her back.

Gently Madison started peeling her clothes off. Her face cringed in pain as she tried to lift her shirt of her head. Between her ribs and her arms, her body didn’t want to cooperate. Sighing in frustration she leaned against the counter for a moment, catching her breath from the exertion that slight task seemed to have caused her. She thought about asking Sastre to help her, but he seemed to be lost in his own mind for the moment and she didn’t want to disturb him. Instead she turned and grabbed the scissors out of the drawer. It would be easier to cut away the shirt than to try and take it off again.

As she turned to start cutting Madison’s brow crinkled for a moment when she noticed his hand slipping under his shirt. Was Sastre injured? Madison had been so consumed by her own pain and worry that she hadn’t even thought to ask Sastre of his injuries. A pang of guilt slipped into her belly. This had all happened because of her, and she had been so selfish about it all she hadn’t even thought to check him over.

Setting the scissors on the counter, she walked over to him, the concern for her own injuries pushed back until she knew how bad Sastre was hurt. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if you were all right. Maybe I should check you over.”