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About ready to give her life away to this asshole, Claire had never expected anyone to barge in and come to her rescue. Her breath caught, a little scared this was going to end up worse then what it had been a moment go. That changed when the new male raised his fist, and seemed to be holding three blades. Too delusional to keep her eyelids open, she tried to listen to make out what was said. Hearing bits and pieces, though enough to piece together that she wasn't going to be killed or raped, her head tilted to the side. Opening her eyelids for a moment, her body jerked against the cold floor when the bare hand was extended, no knives. Her arm raised limply, her fingers having to try twice to get a good hold on his own. His cool skin gave her shudders, but she still managed to hold onto him for him to pull her to her feet carefully. Raising a hand to her head, avoiding her cheek, she shook her head slowly. I . . . I don't . . . know, Her eyelids fluttered and her knees almost gave out, causing her to stumble forward. The last thing she remembered was grabbing onto the male's leather jacket, and trying to save herself from falling, until she went unconscious. Ever since her eyelids had closed, Clarie had become unaware of everything that was happening. Hasn't expected him to catch her completely, or rather pick her up and decide that he was going to make it better. Most males wouldn't have bothered, would've left her on the floor and ran out the door as fast as his legs could carry him. But Logan was different, even though he didn't seem to care, he did have a heart. You just actually had to look, push some things out of the way, to see it. And what Clarie was receiving right now, his attention to care for her and make sure she was alright, was something that if she had been awake, would've most likely known she'd never see again. Even while unconscious, she stirred, her cheek pulsing within her mind. Her dreams were being corrupted by how her head was throbbing, along with her cheek. Eyelids clenched ever so often, fluttering, though never fully opened. Fingers twitched into fists before relaxing again. It was almost like she was reliving what had just happened inside her head over and over again. Even though her mind was blank, wasn't even dreaming, she acted as though she was trying to block something out. Something didn't feel right to her body, and it was trying to warm her. Logic told her to wake up before she was killed, raped, whatever. That someone was taking her somewhere, and she wouldn't know where she was if she ever escaped with her life. What if this one was going to hurt her more then what the other male did? She had only gotten a slap out of him. Was this really how her night was going to go? Lips parted, muffled whispers pushing against Logan's collar as he drove the two of them back into New York. Her eyebrows clenched as her one hand moved to grasp onto him, holding on for her life, her mind still trying to force her to wake up. Clenching against his jeans, her nails scrapped, though it was minor, and near his knee. His body was also warm, making her want to move more into his embrace. She was taking all the wind on her bare arms, and bare legs where the holes were located within her jeans. This caused her to move against him, almost lean, huddling against his chest. Her body hadn't registered that they had stopped, and was now being carried one again. Her left arm fell over her stomach, and her right dangled limply beside her, swinging in the air with each step Logan took. Her small mutters were coming by a little more clear, but not clear enough to be understood unless you tried to sound it out yourself. After that, everything stopped. x X x As soon as Claire's body had been rested nicely against the white cushion that was bolted to the silver bed, she was resting much easier, out of someone's arms, and away from harm. So her mind had been lead to believe. At least she wasn't mumbling, still, or twitching like she had been while in Logan's warm, yet metallic-cold, embrace. Her eyelids fluttered now and then, as if she was sleeping at home, all cozy and snuggled within her silk sheets. It was hard for her to fall in such a deep sleep, but with the help of her pounding head and the gash upon her cheek, it was easy for her body to relax and release. Usually wasn't a good idea around strange men that she didn't know, but if he had been about to do something, he would've already done so. Correct? Within her mind, she didn't dream. There were no pretty pictures, with unicorns and beautiful women and men with white feathered wings. Even if there were, by the time her eyes would open, she wouldn't remember them. It was almost like a gift, the only gift her Father had given her, to not remember nightmares, or even good dreams. If she had a fantasy, when or if it ever came true, would only lead her to a let down. After all, the fantasy was always better then the reality. It didn't matter the outcome, or who it was with. Life just didn't work well with happy endings. Her lips parted, breathing through her mouth now. Her head turned to the left, some strands of lose hair falling against her wet cheek, but the sting didn't wake her from her slumber. Instead, in it's place, came a small glow. At first, it was nothing more then just a radiant kind of aura around her body, her pale skin glowing a little more against the lights within the metal room. Until she started to stir again, something being triggered within her body, causing her to grow uneasy again. Her heart started to pick up in pace, her chest pushing up into the dirty and slightly blood stained muscle shirt, her hands clenching against her jeans for support. In an instant, her body made a change from the glow it had, to a faint rim. Slowly, her body started to become transparent, her figure and outline still visible, just barely, against the white cushion she was laying on. Unaware of the changes, obviously, she continued to stir gently, soft mutters slipping from her lips again, this time trying to tell something. Even if Logan listened closely, he wouldn't be able to understand the jammed words that were slipping from her throat. In a flash, her body was back to normal, and her eyelids opened. Bolting into a sitting position, Claire held her breast, just over her heart and panted loudly. Her free hand grasped the side of the bed beside her for support, her head turning even more then it had been moments ago. Her eyelids slowly closed, not even sure if there was someone with her in the room or not. Couldn't bring herself to care too worried about what just happened. Her chest felt heavy, as if someone had been sitting on it for more then ten minutes. Her thighs were pulsing, and her lips had a small stinging burn. The only problem, was that she didn't feel the sting on her cheek from the gash, nor the faint bruising upon the opposite cheek from being struck. All in my head, all in my head . . . nothing's wrong, I'm okay . . . Her breathing was starting to calm, though it was still uneasy, and her head felt light. Raising her hand to her forehead, she brushed her hair from her smooth skin and once again opened her eyes. This time she saw Logan, his figure hard to miss against the bright walls. Her body instantly tensed, not remembering what he had done to save her, not even remembering his face. Clarie's body shifted quickly, causing her to lose her balance, and she tipped over the back of the platform. Falling on her rear and her one leg, she muffled a groan and held back a small winch of pain. Ignoring it, she peeked around to look at him, and then spotted one of the doorways. Daringly, she closed her eyes and took off in a sprint, ignoring the pain in her ankle from landing on it, and hoped to God that she made it through the door before he could grab her.