slayers_desire | kidnapped by Demons: the rescue

"You are in Germany now, Sir. It is nearly 1,000 miles to Rome." It gives Clark the clue that at least he is in April's dimension.

"Pockla demons don't speak human." The Lister demon pulls out a small keychain and hands it to him. "This should help translate."

Clark had rather suspected that they were in her universe, but not where exactly they were located. Fortunately, he's been memorizing maps in his spare time, in preparation for learning how to fly. So as long as he gets pointed in the right direction, he should be able to find where he's going just fine.

He slips the keychain into a pocket, still not releasing his grip on her. "I don't want to risk her getting hurt on the way. Is there someplace comfortable she can rest while I run?" He doesn't want to leave her, even for a short thousand mile dash and back. But his speed can be harmful to those more vulnerable than he, and she's already injured. He feels like he can trust these people to watch over her, keep her safe until he comes back with help. And if he uses his PINpoint to mark these coordinates, the trip back will be much shorter. And possibly more comfortable for James.

"We will guard her with our lives, Sir." The Lister demon owes April that much. "We can place her in our servant quarters."

"Should I fetch some blood for the Miss in your absence?"

He nods. "If you can get her to drink it. And if there are any suitable clothes, she could use something more than this." His jacket is large enough on her that it barely covers all the important parts, even though nothing has been done about the sheer amount of blood still coating her skin. He's never going to be able to get the stains out, but he isn't concerned about that. Her well-being trumps his clothes any day, and he hasn't even noticed how much of her blood has stuck to his shirt, caked into the small hairs on his bare arms.

"I will get some of our females to bathe her, dress her in soft clothes and try to feed her. It may be difficult to do, until she wakes." The Lister demons were more than happy to aid April. To care for her while Clark was gone. Of course they were under the impression he would be gone for days. It took that long to get to Rome.

Clark gives her to them, gently, careful not to jar her unnecessarily, and gives her a feather-light kiss on her forehead, ignoring the traces of sweat and blood. "I'll be back soon," he says, more to her than to them, and then steps away and blurs, vanishing into the distance in the span of a heartbeat, a violent gust of wind arrowing through the landscape in his wake.

It takes him nearly a half hour to get to Rome, taking a superleap every hundred miles or so to get his bearings and correct his course, and several more minutes to find the area where she'd showed him around. He has to backtrack to the villa to get his bearings, then makes his way to the bar, still unable to see it before entering but remembering exactly where it was.

Clark's memory enables him to enter the warehouse that looks abadoned on the outside, but is actually a bar on the inside. There are a few more patrons inside today, including two vampires who are waiting out the sun.

They look his way immediately when they smell the blood. Other patrons seem to only glance his way and go about their business -- as if someone walking into this Demon safehouse in such a state is a normal-day thing.

James is in the back, delicately balancing a spoon in his taloned hands as he consumes some sort of misty-blue soup.

Clark scans the crowd in an instant, ignoring everyone and anyone except for that red cloaked figure in the back. He makes his way through the crowd, heedless of anyone who might be looking at him, pulling the keychain out of his pocket as he goes and holding it in one hand. "James." He wishes he had time for pleasantries, but he hopes the demon will understand. "April needs you."

Setting down his spoon, James stands to his full height, towering over Clark slightly. "Take me to her."

With his other hand, Clark pulls out his PINpoint, already set to the coordinates of the castle. "Hold onto my arm. This device will transport us there."

When he's sure that the Pockla has a good grip, he triggers his rarely-used teleport, sending the both of them back to the castle parade square.

In the half-hour that Clark was gone, the Lister have started removing some of The Scourge military flags and designs from the castle.

When he appears with the Pockla demon, they spread the word, and soon Clark and James is led to a small bedroom where April is kept. She has been bathed and dressed in a simple white gown. The Lister at her side has been attempted to feed her blood, like one would feed a baby bird with an eyedropper.

With the blood washed off her, Clark can see all the wounds that were inflicted onto April now. Lacerations and whip marks.

Despite the injuries he can see now, he still prefers her looking this way than completely covered in blood. At least now he knows where it came from. Not that it makes him feel any better at all about what's happened, and he's abruptly very glad that he's already banished them all, because otherwise he'd be tempted to go and break his promise. Or at least come very, very close.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to touch her, just be near to her. Being away for thirty-five minutes was far too long, even though he trusts the Lister demons to protect her.

The Pockla demon moves to the other side of April, and rests his taloned hand onto April's stomach. In his ancient tongue, he warns, "It might be look bad, but this is how I work."

The talons slide into her body and there is a jolt from April's body. But within seconds, Clark can see the wounds heal one by one.

"Prepare the blood nearby, she went into this state hungry." James warned the Lister demons that were still nearby.

He switches back and forth between x-ray and normal vision, watching intently to see what James does. How he heals her. Watches the injuries knit themselves together from the inside out, and sees her internal organs strengthening. Not back to full strength yet.

He leans a little more towards her, ready to restrain her if she wakes up in a dangerous state. He knows that he can handle her in the hunger state, without kryptonite to weaken him, and after all this he doesn't want to see her accidentally harm one of the helpful servant demons.

Clark's restains her just in time, just as the last of the wounds are healed and James retreats, April's eyes flicker open. Red and hungry. She nearly lashes out at first, for her last memories was the General's attack.

But seeing Clark there, holding her, makes the fight go away. The hunger still remains and the vampire shudders in several deep breaths.

He holds her down, gently but firmly, and relaxes his grip when her struggles cease. "April, it's okay. You're safe."

He holds out a hand towards the Lister demons, away from where she can reach. "Give me the blood." Even though she's not struggling now, doesn't mean she'll be able to control herself with someone more vulnerable within reach. He's the only safe bet; she can go berserk on him all she wants.

The Lister demon happily gives Clark the blood and moves away from the bed. April's eyes immediately go to what is in his hand, and she takes another deep breath. Normally she attempts to hide her feeding from him, but today is a different manner.

As soon as the blood comes close enough, April latches onto it and starts to feed. The feeding gives them more privacy, as the Pocklar and the Lister demons depart from the servant quarters.

When he's satisfied that she's not going to attack him or anyone else, he stops holding her down completely and just holds her, watching her replenish her strength with only the barest hint of discomfort, and listening to her strengthening vitals. And while she feeds, he strokes her hair. His whole body is still ramped up with adrenaline, both from the fight and from the thousand mile run to Rome, and he hasn't cleaned himself up at all.

"I kept my promise," he says quietly.

The stroking of her hair is nice, and April slowly regains control over herself by the time she finished the blood bag. She will need more, but at least will be more conserved about the feeding.

She can hear his heart pound, and even though did not see his actions in saving her, April trusts his word.

"Even the general?"

"Even that asshole." Clark doesn't normally swear, not strongly, not unless he's Kal. But he feels that the stronger words are appropriate in this instance. "I did kick him in the face, though. He wouldn't stop talking." And now that he has time to start to calm down, he's starting to think about what he said. The things he insinuated. But Clark can't ask about that yet. Doesn't know how.

"I am so proud of you." April admits. Reaching out to touch his face. There is still a lingering amount of anger in Clark, and she can not imagine how hard that must have been for him.

"They told me you found me in the dungeon."

He shuts his eyes for a moment, seeing her again in his mind's eye, strung up in chains and naked, bloody. "Yeah. I did." He opens his eyes again, looking at her now, trying to fix this image in his mind instead. "They hurt you so badly."

"Yes. I know." April shifts a little closer to him. "If you hadn't come when you did..."

She doesn't want to think about it. A small shudder of so many held-back emotions that threaten to burst.

He wraps his arms around her, hugging her to him, glad that this time she's awake and conscious. "But I did, and you're safe now. They're all gone, banished, every last one. I checked." And in fact he's still listening, still keeping an eye out for any who somehow managed to escape his notice. He's nearly completely certain they're gone, but the adrenaline and the events of today conspire to keep him properly paranoid.

"Good." April wraps her arms around his waist. The exhaustion of the events for the last week slowly catch up to her. The not eating, the not sleeping, the torture of her mind, body and spirit.

And the tears start to flow. Almost shamelessly. "I don't understand why..."

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