A/N: Welcome to a new story! Some of you might have read part of this on my Livejournal but those who haven't, welcome!

Okay, I need to point out some things about this:

First of all, this is going to be Alternate Universe. It is of course inspired by the Tim Burton movie but it disregards the second half. So, that means no Canon. Secondly, this is a Barnabas Collins/OC story but not your regular one. You shall see why as we go on.

And thirdly, Angelique here is portrayed as the odd insane lady that she is. She is after one thing: to hurt Barnabas and in her own sadistic way make him love her.

So, if all this does not bother you please proceed. If the above do bother you then proceed no further.

Like I said, this is AU.

Also, the rating will change after a few chapters to M.

Okay, here we go!

Dedicated to Jandra1969. She knows why. Thank you, love!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Shadows.

Out of Control

Prologue

Stockholm syndrome: a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy, sympathy and have positive feelings towards their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. These feelings are generally considered irrational in light of the danger or risk endured by the victims, who essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors for an act of kindness…

I never thought myself to be stupid. No. One could say a lot of things about me but foolishness was never in my list of faults. No.

I am rather bright…or I used to be. Maybe I am indeed stupid. They certainly make it seem so when they speak about me, for me, so close to me. Two feet away can hardly be called a long distance but there they are, whispering about me as if I can't hear them. They are mistaken because I can.

I am not looking at them though. No, I am not and I will not because if I do look up I am going to see the expression on that woman's face and it's going to be like a blow to the stomach. Her pitiful gaze is worse than the scars on my wrists. Her sad gaze is always there since they brought me here; since he brought me here.

He is different though…Much different. There is no anger in his gaze now. No hunger. He no longer lusts for my blood and that should make me happy. I am happy. I really am…Or am I not?

I slowly shake my head. I am happy because now I am getting stronger, healthier. I have gained weight. He feeds me too much. It's like he's making up for something he had no control over. It is funny how I can understand him better than he can understand himself.

I can no longer remember how many times he has apologized; over and over until I had to scream at him to stop. He didn't like it when I did that. He looked as if I had wounded him deeply and I didn't want that. I know that he was as much a victim as I had been. That knowledge doesn't make him feel better…In some degree it doesn't make me feel better but I had been there when he had fought over his natural instincts. He is a predator and I…I was and still am his natural prey. It does not matter that he no longer hurts me to get what he wants. I can still see it in his eyes when he looks at me while he thinks I am not going to notice. The passionate glimmer in his eyes that used to speak of his bloodlust is still there but it is not the same now.

I made the silly mistake of asking him about it once. He had just stared at me before he had released a warm, light chuckle. He had denied that the look in his eyes was hunger for my blood. He had spoken to me with riddles and no matter how much I pride myself in being smart on the uptake I still hadn't managed to understand him.

But oh no. Their voices are getting louder and I have to look up this time.

"Barnabas, no! She has to leave this place. You have to let her go! Look at her!" the woman's voice is low but I can hear it from my bed and he…he looks really upset. I can see his fists curled by his sides.

"I am sorry, Julia. But I have not done all this just to let her go."

"You cannot help her. Have you any idea what Stockholm syndrome means? She needs help."

"That's why you are here. And you will help me." He speaks quietly and I blink, momentarily forgetting how heavy my eyelids feel.

"My problem is not helping you, you know that. But I can see that you are just as attached. This is dangerous." Julia whispers as she places a hand on his arm.

I feel my hands twitch at the intimate gesture and I don't know why that particular fact grasps my attention.

"I broke her, I am going to fix her." His tone is dripping with finality and I want to smile because despite how sick it sounds I don't want him to let me go. No one is waiting for my return anyway. No one searched for me. Eight months is not a small amount of time…

My landlady probably thinks I am dead by now. I didn't even like her much. She is a cat person. I love dogs. She is angry at everyone; I am silly enough to think there is good in all people. The only thing that we're similar in is our loneliness. But I am no longer alone, am I?

"You didn't break her. Angelique did. Please, the only way to help her is to let her go. Give her normalcy." Julia's voice breaks through my haze and I fix my eyes upon them again.

"I am trying to."

"No, you're not-…"

"Do you remember how she was when I returned with her? Do you remember? I do. Now look at her. Don't ever tell me again that I am not helping her." His voice gains volume again and I tense up.

"Barnabas-…"

"No! Just because she doesn't talk to you it does not mean that she is deaf. The discussion is over, Doctor. I expect updates on her health in the next few days, is that understood?"

The redhead sighs and her eyes turn to settle on me. I shift nervously under her scrutiny and my eyes go reflexively to her vibrant hair. She is beautiful and I push my hands between my knees as I curl into a tighter ball upon the covers. She smiles at me with sincerity and I blink before I lift my hand in a small wave.

She looks away from me and I lower my hand, letting it fall idly on the mattress again.

"Fine. You always get what you want anyway." She tells him before she turns to exit the bedroom.

She closes the door behind her and he takes a deep breath even though I know he does not need it to survive. Slowly, he turns to face me and I can see the immediate change in his eyes. They soften and the irises seem to take the color of molten honey. I don't think it's pity that causes his eyes to glimmer like that. No, I don't think that he pities me. Maybe he did so at first when he realized that he had been using me to quench his thirst while we were both buried in that crypt…But not anymore. He looks at me…differently now. I wonder what he sees because I am nothing remarkable. I am too thin, my hair is only just regaining its brightness and silkiness and my eyes…my eyes are dull. I don't think there can be any improvement for them though. They have always been a dull dark brown…almost black.

He slowly approaches the bed and I inhale sharply as he does so. He comes to sit next to me on the mattress and hesitantly reaches out for my hand that is still clasped between my knees. I allow him to take my hand and as he does so I shiver. His skin is so cold that it should be uncomfortable but it is not. He slips his long fingers through mine and takes a deep breath before he smiles. I don't smile back but I watch him curiously, with interest.

"What's it going to be, Jane?" he murmurs as he rubs his thumb over my skin, "Are you going to talk to me today?"

I inhale sharply and slowly sit up, tugging my shirt down my stomach as I do so. I flick my dark hair behind my shoulder and his eyes go immediately to the fading bite marks on my neck. His face clouds over with shame and I tighten my fingers around his hand. His eyes snap back to my face at my unlikely gesture.

"I think I am hungry." The words tumble from my mouth without my consent but all my worries disappear when he smiles. I return it with the slightest bit of hesitancy and I swallow hard as he nods his head at me. He gives my hand a squeeze and I know that if he wanted to he could break my hand with a single movement, with the slightest pressure. But he doesn't. He won't ever do that because my reluctant captor has now turned my fierce protector.

I am Jane Walden and this is my story.

End of the prologue.

Author's note: Still here? Really? Great! Thank you so much for reading. If I made you curious and you want more then drop me a few words. They will make my day and feed the muse.

The next chapter is ready and waiting by the way.

Join me on Facebook for news, covers and much more! Link's on my profile.

Until next time!

Xxx Lina :o)