Merlin, it had been a long week—though she supposed it had actually been a hell of a long month. Amaris really hadn’t thought it could get any worse than running into her ex-boyfriend after a month of double full moons and him figuring out the truth about her. Of course, she was wrong. Then Dorian had decided to up and go missing, or at least be extremely late in coming back from his assignment, and that had been bloody worrisome. She wasn’t used to having to worry about him as far as work was concerned, because she knew that he was fully capable of figuring his way out of just about anything. His fiancée had been staying with Amaris while he was gone, though Amaris had bloody protested that every step of the way—she didn’t need Gemma looking after her, just because her illness had come back bloody tenfold after the long break in between the full moons. It was just another example of help that she’d feel guilty about, wanting everyone to simply leave her to her issues without trying to fruitlessly make them better.

But Dorian was back… relatively unharmed, and Gemma was back to her own apartment, so Amaris could at least suffer through the recovery by herself. The full moon had been only two nights prior and she could admit that it had been bloody awful—worse so than normal, even, though she had no idea why. It was as if the beast inside of her had a lot of shit to be angry about—perhaps having to do with the break between the moons, or maybe just because she had been holding back a lot of her own emotions throughout the month that then came out when she was transformed. Regardless of the ‘why,’ she was unsure that she’d ever even had as many injuries as she had this month, to the point that she could scarcely even move from the couch. Her entire body felt sore, and she had reopened the healing injury on her back from the previous month as well as creating a few new horrible claw marks across her waist, chest and arm. She was lucky that there weren’t more, really, so she was remaining optimistic even though she was pretty sure that at least the one on her waist would scar. As always, she had more bruises and cuts than she could count, but those were minor and rather unimportant to even worry about.

Instead, she was just sprawled out on the couch, with a bottle of firewhiskey on the ground next to her and all of the curtains shut to help her pounding headache. She had just leaned over to pick up her liquor when she heard a knock on the door, and she groaned quietly in aggravation, contemplating if it was even worth getting up. With all of the ‘hate crimes’ going on, Dorian would be pissed to know that she had the door unlocked—and it wasn’t like anyone that had any evil intentions was going to knock on the damn door. “It’s open,” she called, before dropping her head back against the arm of the couch, not even bothering to see who was entering the apartment.

Outfit

@ericbradley

Eric had the day off, which wasn't exactly uncommon when he wasn't given an assignment. Sometimes he had jobs that lasted for a few days, some that made him travel or kept him up well into the night and strained him in so many ways, so having a day off was well needed and appreciated. After looking at the calendar, he had realized that the full moon had passed two days ago, a fact that he was now keeping closer tabs on now that he knew Amaris was a werewolf. He figured she must be down for the count for a few days after a night like that, so he decided to pay her a visit. Maybe she'd appreciate the company while she recovered. Besides, if there was anyone that could cheer up Amaris, it was certainly Eric.

He made his way to her apartment during the late morning, bringing a few things with him that might come in handy, like supplies to clean any wounds she might have gotten, and some candy from Honeydukes, because who didn't like a bit of something sweet when they were sick? He knocked on the door, and he heard her weak voice reply that it was open. He opened the door, walked in, and shut it behind him, then sauntered in to where she was. He bent down beside her where she was sprawled on the couch. "Did someone order a sexy curse-breaker to help speed along recovery?" he asked with a grin and a wink. "I have the day off, so I figured I'd come by and keep you company. How are you feeling?" He passed his eyes over her body as he asked and guessed the answer was not very good. She looked beat up and entirely ill, and he didn't like to see her in such a right state. She had quite a few bruises and scratches, but he figured there were more severe injuries than what he could simply see.

Amaris occasionally tried to contemplate what was worse—the week leading up to the full moon or the week after it, and it was an impossible determination to make. Each one sounded better to her than the one that she was currently experiencing, after all. On one hand the exhaustion, the splitting migraines, and the nausea that she experienced before her transformations were worse because she was well aware of what it was leading up to. It also only got worse as the week went on, so it never seemed like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was hard to stay standing, let alone work, but she was still expected to and that was a struggle in its own right. The entire week was made worse by the fact that she’d been used to Wolfsbane for several months now… the potion itself was disgusting, but the events also made her illness just marginally more tolerable. But, on the other hand, the week recovering from the full moon was much worse. Her sleep schedule was fucked, she was recovering from all manners of injury. She could scarcely keep food down, which caused migraines and nausea anyway, and her nightmares were at their absolute peak. It was even more impossible for her to get a good night’s sleep, nearly regardless of how much she drank. Work was even more difficult because it was usually actually painful to remain vertical, as opposed to just being difficult. Yes, perhaps this was worse then, she mused, letting her eyes fall shut as she let an arm rest over them to block out what little light did make its way into the room, but she supposed that she was biased since she was experiencing it at the current time.

She really didn’t know who she was expecting to be there, though she supposed it could be Angelo. He was just about the only person she knew that would knock, since he was professional and all. Amaris hoped that he decided to drop this ‘case’ soon, because it was ridiculous to her that Dorian even went to a private investigator, telling him about hate crimes as if it was something that anyone could prevent. Amaris didn’t even bother moving to see who was now in the apartment, figuring that they would announce themselves soon enough. However, at the voice she heard, she was moving her arm away from her face, opening her eyes and promptly narrowing them again as she attempted to sit up. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” She grumbled, her arms shaking in exertion until she had successfully moved into an upright position. Immediately she began cursing her luck. Eric finding out about her was bad enough, but now he wanted to be helpful and that was just bloody asking for disappointment on his part. It would be far easier for him if he didn’t get invested in her shitty life.

“I’m fine,” she replied, not missing his eyes moving over her as he probably looked for damn injuries. Luckily, her more serious wounds, though they weren’t even serious in her mind, were the ones on her waist and back, and were hidden. The one on her arm was only mildly bad and at the thought she subtly moving the blanket she’d had pulled only to her waist up over that injury as well. “Nothing I’m not used to. Seriously—go do something fun, it’s your bloody day off.” Amaris commented, noting this was bad already. How did he even know where she lived, she wondered, vaguely, though that wasn’t a problem to deal with at the current time.

Eric was still determined to crack the pessimistic shell that Amaris had evidently closed herself in since being bitten. She couldn't seem to wrap her head around the fact that people caring about her wasn't them trying to fix her damn problem all the time. Eric knew that her condition was inevitable, something he couldn't stop from happening, but he could still try to help her make the best of it, the best of her life. He wasn't trying to become too invested or overbearing; he just wanted to be a damn friend to her. He couldn't figure out why she was so adamantly trying to reject it. What was so wrong with accepting some help, or even more basically, accepting a bit of friendship? He saw her reasoning as way out of proportion, but then again, he wasn't seeing it from her eyes. Still, he figured that could be broken down or chiseled away, even if it had to happen slowly.

Eric chuckled. "I'm here to see you, of course," he said as if it was obvious, but he knew that wasn't exactly what she had meant. "I've been in Greece for goodness knows how long, isolated from everything and everyone back here, no true family or anything but people like you to miss, and had my bones crushed to dust in the midst of that, and you're about to tell me I can't come to see you for a bit of company? That's cold, Grant," he teased, though it was partially true. Of course he had missed her while he was gone, he missed her a bloody lot, so he was understandably pretty happy to see her again, even if the same couldn't be said of her to him in turn. He saw her struggle to simply try and sit up. "Don't strain yourself, babe, no need to sit up for me," he said with a light chuckle as he gently urged her to lay down again.

Eric raised his eyebrows when she said she was fine. "Fine must be a relative term, then," he said, because she was evidently not fine in the slightest. She was certainly beat up and ill-looking, and he didn't miss her slip her arm under the blanket. Despite this, he gave a smirk when she told him to go do something fun with his day off. "Oh, I plan too," he said, now grinning at her, "but I've got all day and all night for that. No reason I can't visit you for a while, right?" He kept his tone casual and light, because she evidently needed a mood lifter. He gave a shrug. "Seems like you could use good company anyway." He winked, still giving her a winning smile. He passed his eyes over her again. "So what's the damage this time?" he asked her. He reached over and pulled the blanket off of her arm gently to reveal a moderately bad wound on it that she was evidently trying to hide. He nodded towards it. "You know, aside from that." He wasn't daft, he knew she would have a few injuries, and he didn't mind in the slightest taking care of them for her. He knew she would mind it, though.

It was clear that Eric didn’t understand what she was getting at and why she was trying so hard to keep him from getting attached to her again. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t missed him over the years, as she bloody had, a lot—and it wasn’t even that she was unhappy to see him again… though she wished she was. In fact, it was times like these that she very much wished that their relationship had ended on a bad note so that they wouldn’t be in this situation; then, if he had seen her at the bar, he probably just would have gone to a different damn bar. But, of course, that wasn’t how it happened. And now she just had to constantly remind herself that everything was different now, and in her mind, it was important to somehow convince him to just leave her be. She knew that he was just trying to be her friend, and that perhaps he didn’t see the downside in that, but he would eventually. He would get too invested in her wellbeing, so that if she went missing, got captured by the Ministry, got killed, he would have to deal with that. Even if luck went her way, her lifespan was shorter than the average witch anyhow now, and it was something that she had accepted but that didn’t mean that she wanted anyone else to deal with it.

Apart from all that, he could act like he just wanted to spend time with her, but the first time that he witnessed the way she was treated, heard about some new regulation, or saw the results of one of the ‘hate crimes’ that have been happening to her recently, Amaris was hard-pressed to believe that he was just going to sit back and do nothing. She hoped that he would, but she highly doubted that, and then he was just in for a shit ton of disappointment when he learned that there was just nothing that could be done about it. She shot him a look at his words, as it clearly hadn’t been what she meant, before contemplating if he was going to get aggravated at her that it was only… probably still the morning, and she was halfway done with a full bottle of firewhiskey already. But that was something else that he didn’t understand, and she never wanted him to. “All right, all right, I bloody get it,” she muttered, still not exactly pleased that he was there, though she supposed she could use the distraction. Then she could just hope that he would forget about her and not feel the need to visit her anymore, because it was just asking for trouble. Her body was still nearly getting used to being in her human form, and recovering from her transformation always made her shaky and useless for damn days after—and she wasn’t happy that it was so blatantly obvious to Eric. “Fine,” Amaris grumbled as he urged her to lay back down.

Really, she was just glad that the majority of her injuries were hidden, though she very much doubted that it would stop Eric from figuring out about them somehow. She knew that the claw marks on her chest peeked out from the top of her shirt, if barely, but the ones on her waist and back were completely hidden and they were the worst two, so that was good, she supposed. “Well, I may have never had my bones crushed to dust, but I do have them all broken on a monthly basis, so fine is quite relative,” she commented, offhandedly, before leaning over to grab her bottle of firewhiskey off of the ground. Having left the cap off, she was able to quickly take a long swig of the fiery liquor, and then returned it to its place on the floor. “I suppose,” Amaris replied, since she knew that he wouldn’t leave no matter what she said anyhow. Amaris figured there were a lot of far better ideas for what he could be doing with his morning, but he clearly wasn’t going to listen to her. “I told you I’m fine,” she stated, completely unconvincingly, her reflexes so off that she hardly could even move in time to try to stop him from pulling back the blanket. “I’m assuming you’re not going to believe me if I say that’s it,” she said, rolling her eyes, though it might be worth a try at this point.

Amaris evidently still didn't understand that her being what she was didn't make her a damn burden to everyone around her. Eric himself and he figured Dorian, who was probably taking care of her too, simply cared about Amaris and wanted to be there for her. It wasn't as if Eric was trying to get so bloody attached, and he knew the risks anyhow. But he'd much rather have her in his life and accept the risk of losing her than keep her out all together. Perhaps she would see that if he continued spending time with her. He knew she wouldn't bloody like it, but it still might chisel away at her slowly. He certainly wasn't about to give up on her, though. No, he didn't give up that easily, not even with an obstinate werewolf.

He smirked at his victory. "Glad you do," he said. He kept glancing over her as he helped her lay back down to inspect the damage that she had. He noticed her moving uncomfortably as she laid back, which put him under the impression that the gash on her back must still be there. She shifted her hips oddly too, he saw, and he figured that there must be something on her waist too. Eric took to noticing thinks like this, he was quite observant. At the same time, he wondered if Amaris would notice his own physical shortcomings that he was facing right now. He was due for another trip to St. Mungo's to get the charms on his shoulder and knee redone. The Muggle joint replacements made him sore after a while, but he had to keep them there. He usually did a few healing charms on them to keep the pain away, but he had to go to St. Mungo's for the stronger brand once in a while.

Eric raised his eyebrows. "That certainly does make fine a relative term, doesn't it?" he said. He obviously knew the change wasn't easy on her, so the least he could do was offer her a bit of good company while she recovered, and he knew she'd enjoy it a little bit no matter how much she was actually trying to keep away from him. With a smirk, he took the bottle of firewhiskey from her after she took a sip and took a drink himself before putting it down. He could certainly see why she chose that bottle to down when she was feeling like this. He scoffed as he pulled the blanket down, easily avoiding her weak attempt to stop him. "Like hell you're fine," he said as he inspected her arm from the distance he was at. Not good, but easily treatable. He gave a crooked grin. "Glad you're finally learning how this works," he said to her smugly. "Of course I won't believe you. So are you going to make this easy on both of us and show me the damage or make me venture after it myself?" He knew that she wasn't going to like those options, but Eric needed to have a look at her injuries, as it would take him all of two bloody minutes to bandage them up for her, even without magic, which she wasn't allowed to use on them anyway.

Clearly, she needed to figure out another way for Eric to realize that this friendship idea that he had was an awful one. She had missed him, certainly, more than he could probably possibly imagine, and she still cared about him more than she had possibly imagined, but that was why this was so important. He didn’t realize it, but this was the start of an absolutely horrible situation for him. It didn’t matter how much he acted like he knew what he was getting into, because he very clearly didn’t. Amaris had seen what all of this had done to her brother, and she hadn’t being a bloody burden on him more than anything in the world. She was nearly thankful that her parents had decided that she was a disgusting beast that they wanted nothing to do with… that was far better, in her mind, then what she was subjecting Dorian to by his inability to let go. She just needed to leave again—it was starting to seem like the inevitable option for her to take. With Dorian engaged now, it was more important than ever for her to leave the apartment. Perhaps she could just act like she was getting a place or her own before disappearing again. It had been better for everyone involved when she had been by herself, as she could literally hurt no one but herself and was a burden on absolutely no one. Whether she ate, slept, healed her injuries, dealt with discrimination, got attacked on the damn streets—it was all on her. If she couldn’t find somewhere to sleep and had to bloody be homeless for a while, it was no one’s problem but hers. If she couldn’t find work and afford to eat regularly, it was her problem. It hadn’t exactly been a glamorous life, but her life was far from glamorous at this point. She could scarcely even imagine a time when it had been anymore.

“Prat,” she muttered, the semblance of an amused smile flitting across her lips before wincing as she lay back down. Obviously, she was used to not healing her injuries, because it was against one of the many regulations put on werewolves to keep them from being able to blend in—obviously, that was something that was unacceptable, as the Ministry thought that werewolves should have no advantage in hiding what they were from others. But it didn’t make it any less uncomfortable when the injuries were healing, and that seemed to never be as apparent as it was right now. Somehow she had been quite sure that the original injury on her back had been infected before she’d run into Eric at the pub and he’d figured it all out and fixed it for her. Now that it had been reopened, it actually felt even more painful than it had originally, though she hadn’t looked at it.

Really, Amaris would bloody enjoy keeping the conversation off of her. He had brought up the fact that his bones had been crushed to dust in that ridiculous cave-in that he hadn’t bloody told her about… and she really wanted to ask more about that to make sure that he was all right. But she knew that it was only going to aggravate her if he brushed it off again like it was a bloody joke, so she pushed the thought aside for now. Later, perhaps, she would turn the conversation in that direction to make sure that everything really was all right with him. It would give her peace of mind, and then it would get the conversation off of her, which was an added benefit. “Exactly,” she commented, offhandedly. She was obviously fine, compared to that, as the pain of her transformations were one of the nightmares that she had that made it bloody impossible for her to sleep without being well liquored up. Amaris watched in amusement as he took a swig of her firewhiskey, glad that he wasn’t trying to lecture her on drinking in the damn morning. Yes, she supposed that water would have done her better for feeling less awful, but it would do nothing to help her sleep. “If you wanted me to take my shirt off, all you had to do was ask,” she replied with a wink, though the joke was half-hearted even to her own ears, and she made no actual move to remove her shirt. Yes, she’d have to if he really was going to bother her about her injuries, but she was going to hope that her statement threw him off enough that he changed his mind, or bloody something.

Spending more time with Amaris was the first step in getting her to understand that not every single acquaintanceship that she had was a problem. She was far too cynical about the whole thing, and Eric was determined to break that down no matter what it took. As much as Amaris didn't want to admit it, she and Eric had a certain effect on each other, and it wasn't one she was going to be able to ignore and suppress forever. He cared for her and she for him, and in the end, that would be important for both of them as far as actually getting somewhere here went. Eric wouldn't give up, though. She would see the light eventually. He would eventually puncture his way through this cynical skin of hers. After all, he knew all of the places to hit her when it came down to it, all of her weak spots and vulnerabilities. He knew her in and out, and that still translated into the new Amaris that he had stumbled upon in the pub. That would certainly work to his advantage in this situation.

Eric was glad to see that there was at least a shadow of a smile and amusement on her face. A good sign, if even a small one. "Only for you, babe," he said with a wink and a smirk. He hoped that kidding around with her a bit would somehow lighten her miss, make her feel even just a little bit better. Despite the easy-going look on his face, he noticed her really struggling as she laid back down and was still able to guess where the injuries were on her person. He was concerned, to say the least. He knew she was adamantly going to deny all help that he offered her, but there was no way that she could logically say no to him over this. It would be foolish. So he just had to take the choice out of her hands and give her the help no matter how much she denied it.

Eric chuckled dryly. He supposed she was quite fine in comparison to that, but that still didn't mean she was good. After all, she was honestly bloody miserable still, even if it was better than having her bones snap and body literally transform into an entirely different being. "Well, there's always room for improvement," he said lightly. Such a thought crossed his mind every time he thought of his own physical shortcomings. The bloody shoulder and knee replacements he had gotten were pretty damn awful when it came down to it, and he wondered how the Muggles dealt with it without magic sometimes. There was certainly room for improvement there, he knew that well enough, but perhaps he was biased. He raised his eyebrows at her when she made her next comment, but it didn't throw him off either, which he suspected was her intention. He grinned. "Well, I'm asking you to now, at any rate. So would you kindly care to oblige?" he asked her smoothly. He knew she wouldn't really want to or like it, but that was the only way he was going to have a proper look at all of the damage she had incurred, and in turn, take care of it for her.

Amaris supposed that she should count herself lucky that Eric hadn’t come sooner. If he thought that she looked bad now, then she would not even want to see his reaction to her when she first got home from a full moon. She normally waited until she knew that Dorian was asleep to even attempt coming home because she didn’t want to worry him, though that wasn’t normally all that successful since he commonly was waiting for her anyhow. It had been a lot more difficult recently without her Wolfsbane. The Ministry’s regulation on healing charms and concealments on injuries hadn’t been particularly new. It had been around since she moved back last year, really, but it hadn’t been something that she had to worry about since she’d had an arrangement in place pretty quickly to get the potion that she needed. Something else that she was glad that Eric didn’t know about. Really, if she was trying to be optimistic, which was commonly hard for her, then she could be glad that while he might know what she was, he didn’t know the dirty details of what was going on or what she’d had to do. That was a silver lining, she supposed. It was difficult to find those sometimes, but it was certainly one now. And him being observant would only take him so far when it came to information that really, only she could give him. Or, well, Dorian—but he wouldn’t… unless he did because he was grateful someone else was around that gave a damn. But he wasn’t home anyhow, so she didn’t have to worry about that.

She rolled her eyes at his words, wishing at this point that she hadn’t even sat up since it was this painful trying to lie back down and she was aggravated at how apparent that was. “Lucky me,” she replied, though bloody clearly luck hadn’t been on her side in quite some time. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have unintentionally roped Eric into this damn situation. It felt like he was looking over her far too closely for her tastes, and she wished that he would just not even worry about her damn injuries. If he wanted to come over to keep her company, then he should come over and not try to heal her injuries like she was sure he was going to. There was no point in it and they would all heal on their own anyhow. Of course, he’d had to help her out on the one that he had called infected, but she wasn’t entirely sure that it had actually been all that bad—but regardless of that, it was reopened and so she was sure that Eric wasn’t going to be happy about that.

Obviously she knew better than to think that he wouldn’t ask to see her injuries, because he clearly was going to. It was apparent just by the way he was examining her that he was already contemplating what he had to do to remedy the situation. Didn’t he realize that the Ministry regulated this shit? She had to admit that he probably did, because it wasn’t as though he had just healed up the prior injury. Amaris knew that some people would probably think it ridiculous that she really thought they were watching closely enough to notice just one injury vanishing from her person, but she had no damn doubt. “I’m sure you’re well aware that I’m not entitled to much improvement,” she replied, figuring it was worth saying at this point. Even if she was sure he knew, she couldn’t risk him getting too far and passing what was allowed… which was quite easy to do. Amaris sighed at his response, figuring she should have known better than to think he was going to be put off by her comment. “Fine,” Amaris commented, casually, lifting herself up enough to pull her shirt off, wincing slightly at the effort. Merlin, this was all so much easier when she had Wolfsbane.

Eric was glad to see that Amaris was at least not completely rejecting his company. It was a start, if nothing else, and he knew this was going to go slowly. He may have figured out the grand change in Amaris, but given how cynical she was, he had a feeling there was more shit going on than just the lycanthropy. He had to bide his time, he knew, but he'd eventually get the answers he needed. He made a mental note to himself to speak with Dorian at some point, as they might be able to be of use to each other. Whatever Dorian was doing was obviously pissing off Amaris on the grounds that she thought she was a burden, so seeing both sides of the coin might help him get a better perspective on the situation. He was obviously closer to taking Dorian's side at the moment, but that was only because he refused to blatantly stay away from Amaris.

He chuckled at her, giving her a winning smile. "Hey, you didn't mind me all that much when we were in school," he said. They had had a lot of good times back in school, and he hoped Amaris kept that in mind. He saw the borderline scathing look that she gave him as he watched her struggle to lay down, and a shadow of a smirk crossed her face. Of course he wasn't going to just let it be, they both knew that. He might as well take care of them while he had the opportunity, as it would speed recovery for her and hopefully make the experience more bearable for her. It honestly was no bloody trouble for him, he'd do the same thing for a stranger given how simple it was.

He reached for the bottle and took another sip of firewhiskey as she said she said she wasn't entitled to much improvement. "We're all entitled to improvement, babe," he said vaguely as he put the bottle down again. It was true, and he would wait for her to bloody realize that giving her a little bit of improvement was all that he was trying to do. He raised his eyebrows when she agreed to take off her shirt for him. "Well that was simple. I was almost sure I was going to have to bribe you," he said sarcastically. He helped her pull it over her head when he noticed the movements getting tough for her, then put it aside. He passed his eyes over her torso once she laid back down again. "Damn," he said as he eyed the injuries. He was right in that there was one near her waist, or several depending on how you looked at it. Then there were the few near her chest. Those were the worst, of course, but smaller ones littered her entire torso. In addition to that, he finally got a good look at the scar from what he assumed was the bite that had started all this in the first place. It was quite the scar, to say the least, but he didn't let himself look at it for more than a few seconds. "Well, they could be a hell of a lot worse," he said, turning his attention to the scratches on her waist first. He carefully ran his thumb over them. "They've started to scab over, which is good. Does this hurt?" he asked as he continued running his fingers over them very gently.