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[Early Morning---Locked to Shane] Searching

The nightmares had woken her up far too early for it to be natural and she had lay in bed for a little while, then got up, careful not to disturb Cole.

She got dressed and slipped out for a walk into town.

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Fear. Not just fear. Abject terror. Coming from over there, to the left, in the alley behind the dumpster.

[ooc: note for those reading: the only people Tara bumps into in this condition are those whose players have given specific consent.]

Phoebe's head jerked up and she stiffened.

Terror.

She could only feel the emotions of someone she was close to, so she took off in a sprint to the alley. When she got to the alleyway entrance, she stopped and entered the alley very calmly and slowly.

Tara sits against the dumpster, a dark purple bruise on her neck, face and arms covered with red scratches, some of which are bleeding. Her skirt is wet and torn, rust-coloured fabric stained a darker brown. She is surrounded by refuse, the odds and ends of broken garbage bags that inevitably spill out of dumpsters.

She rocks herself back and forwards, completely silent but shaking with fear. Her hands claw at her face and chest, obviously the source of more than half of the scratches.

Oh God, Tara!

Phoebe slows her pace even more and carefully approaches Tara.

"Tara, sweetie?" Her voice is calm and soothing.

"No," Tara shakes her head, looking up at Phoebe angrily. "You can't. Prying poking fingers, you can't have that piece!"

Seizing a banana peel she puts it on her head, its browned skin splayed haphazardly over her hair. "Can't! Got my tin foil hat!"

Phoebe was silent for a moment as she sat in front of Tara. Finally, she unwrapped her scarf and held it out to Tara.

"The scarf works better than the hat, Tara," she said gently. "More material."

Tara takes the scarf, hand snatching out to grab it and retreating again, eyeing Phoebe suspiciously. She clutches it to her chest, hands running along the fabric before rubbing it along her cheek.

"Soft," she whispers.

"Willow?"

"It's protected me from a lot."

Phoebe smiled faintly and then shook her head slowly.

"No, Tara, not Willow. It's Phoebe."

"Phoebe? Phoebos. Fear." Tara wraps the scarf over her head, flattening the banana peel into her hair and winding her hands around the ends, clutching tightly.

"Clean it up, rabbit. Dirty girl. Lick it clean now. Don't make me tell you twice."

Phoebe slowly began moving around Tara, clearing away some of the debris and making it clean for her friend. Right about now she wished she had telepath instead of empathy so she could summon help.

After she got it as clean as she could, she returned to sit in front of Tara.

"I can't lick it up, Tara, that would interfere with how my tongue works," she said softly.

Tara looks at Phoebe as she cleans, confused. This wasn't how the script went.

"I'll be good," she says. "Do my chores. Black and blue and pretty colours, can I see the stars?"

Black and blue...chores...be good...

Phoebe swallowed her bile. Someone had beaten her friend at some time in her life.

"The stars are sleeping right now, love," Phoebe said soothingly. "We can see them when they wake up. I promise."

Tara cocks her head at Phoebe, her terror waning.

"Mommy?"

Phoebe shook her head slowly, keeping her eyes focused on Tara and her hands in front of her so she could see they were not a danger.

"No sweetheart," she said gently. "It's me, Pheebs."

"Phoebe?" Tara stretches out a dirty hand and strokes her fingers over Phoebe's face.

Trembling, she withdraws her hand. "You can't be here. He's coming. He'll find me. Don't want you to get hurt. Should go. GogogoGOGOGOGO!" Her voice raises into a scream.

Phoebe isn't afraid of whomever might be coming. She's worried about Tara.

She reaches out a hand and gently brushes hair away from her cheek.

"I won't get hurt, dear one, and I won't leave you."

Tara slaps Phoebe across the face.

"Go!" she yells.

[ooc: permission given for the slap]

Phoebe reels back from the slap and tears spring to her face. She wobbles slightly and then straightens. She looks around for the danger that Tara is scared of.

"Tara...it's okay. I'm not going to let you get hurt."

Shakily Tara strokes Phoebe's face, ghosting her fingers over the red mark.

"Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry. Bad girl. Thankless. Worthless. Lock you up, teach you a lesson."

Phoebe shakes her head and puts her arms around Tara, resting her chin on her hair.

"You are not a bad girl and you are not thankless or worthless. You are tara, a beautiful soul, and we love you."

Tara accepts the embrace, but her muscles remain tensed, poised for flight.

"Shane?" Tara whispers.

Again Phoebe shakes her head, but doesn't let go.

"Not Shane...Phoebe," she says gently. "We can go look for Shane."

"Phoebe," Tara nods. "Find Shane? Please?"

Phoebe lets out a breath. "Yes, I'll find her." She swallows. "I'll find her, sweetheart."

"Won't fly away," Tara tells her seriously. "Wings all clipped and broken. Stay in my cage. Don't cry, only hurt for a minute. Beautiful brave girl. Daddy's little demon."

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[Early Morning---Locked to Shane] Searching

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