Keeping the Faith

It dawns on her before she’s prepared for the emotions the realization carries. She knows him...or rather, she saw him just about every day for several years of her life. She had mentioned him the night before in her conversation with Escher. A boy who nobody ever spoke to, almost like they were afraid of him, even though he’d never spoken to anyone else that she’d ever seen. His expression always seemed like he was numb, but she could tell there was something dark and painful in those eyes of his.

He always looked so joyless, so to see him smile and laugh, even if it’s with some awkwardness and reluctance...at a time like this, the emotions are too much. Her eyes well up with tears and eventually, they spill over.

He notices, and he panics. “Whoa, h-hey, no need to get upset...nothing even broke, see?”

She shakes her head. “N-No, that’s not it! I just...!” She has to stop to catch her breath. “I...I remember you! I saw you all the time, and you looked so sad, b-but...I don’t even know your name...!! I’m so sorry...!”

He looks confused for a moment, but recognition flashes across his features. “I knew those teary eyes looked familiar...you’re Aida, aren’t you? You got placed there because you kept trying to escape to find your brothers. You’re the one Escher spent so much time with...”

Musiea rubs at her eyes. “Great...I’m being remembered because I was as much of a crybaby back then as I am now...” She laughs. “But I’m surprised you remember any of that! It was so long ago, and I wasn’t there for very long...”

“When you never talk, you listen,” he says. “When you’re never noticed, you blend in with your surroundings and people carry on conversations right in front of you. Plus, Escher raised so much hell after you left. It was kind of hard not to know about!”

Musiea frowns. “I’m so sorry you were treated so badly, there, um...”

He smiles. “Darwin. And don’t be. It was hard, but it’s a part of who I am...and it got me to where I am now. But what I’m more curious to know is whether or not Escher ever found you again.”

Both former residents of the group home end up putting their shopping on hold to sit down at the little cafe within the store for a cup of tea and some conversation. It’s strange how the two of them never once spoke, but Musiea is able to tell him about her life. He listens intently, letting her speak and only reacting silently. He waits until she’s finished before he says a word.

“God, that’s...I’m so sorry...” His features darken, and she sees a shadow of who he was back in the orphanage. “But it’s amazing that you were able to get out of it...escaping a cult isn’t something many people can do. And saving all those kids, too...how many are there?”

“Twenty in all,” she replies simply. His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his tea. “I know it sounds like a lot, but they’re good kids, and Escher helps! Though he’s under the weather right now, so the main focus is on getting him well again.”

“Wow...” he says. “You’ve managed to do so much. It’s a life story people would read...and it would probably get the Hollywood treatment too!”

Musiea laughs. “Oh, please! But if they do...they’d better cast someone really pretty to play me. And someone slightly taller...” She sighs. “Escher could play himself, though. He’s good-looking enough to be a movie star...”

“See? There’s even the love story element. I smell an Oscar nom right there.”

“Just the nomination?” She shakes her head. “Anyway, enough about me. It seems like you’re doing well, especially compared to how you used to be. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Well, I was kind of a scrawny little runt back then,” Darwin says. “I’ve gotten a little bigger and stronger in the meantime.”

“And...I’ve seen you smile, and laugh...” Musiea says. “That was why I broke down crying earlier. I had actually been talking with Escher last night, wondering whether or not some of the kids in that place ended up okay like we did. You...were mentioned...”

“Then...you’ll be glad to know I’m doing fine,” he says. “I mean, some days are rough, but...I’ve got people to support me too. I get through...” He smiles. “Guess it’s my turn, then...”

“Only if you want to talk about it,” Musiea assures him.

“It’s fine. Though it’s not quite as interesting as yours...” He sighs. “Not too long after you left, I started leaving the property to take walks. I figured as long as I was going to be alone, I might as well be truly by myself...not alone amid a crowd. But I kept going by this one playground, and seeing kids there who looked...happy. I remembered that my mom used to take me there when she was still healthy enough to get out of bed...that I had some happier memories of the place.

“I used to just walk by, but I eventually got to the point where I would sit on a bench and watch. There were these two kids there, a brother and sister, and I used to always see them. One day, the little girl came up and asked if I wanted to play too. She said she had only ever seen me by myself, and she asked if I ever got lonely. I told her the truth: ‘I’m used to it.’”

“That’s...a really sad truth,” Musiea says softly.

“It is, but I’d never thought about it that way...she burst into tears, and I was shocked. She told me she’d never heard anything so sad.” He sighs, though there’s a smile on his face. “I still remember it so vividly, even now...those silvery eyes, all red and puffy from very real tears. She didn’t even know me, but her heart was breaking for me...”

Musiea smiles as well. “She’s still someone important to you, isn’t she?”

“All that and more,” he admits, pink immediately dusting his cheeks. “I love Marie more than I knew I ever could love anyone. And she waited for me to sort through everything...she’s beautiful, smart as can be, talented...she could have anyone, but she helped me sort through my baggage and my past...”

“She sounds wonderful,” Musiea says.

“She is,” Darwin says. “And the work she’s already doing...she finished her undergrad program early, but even as a grad student, she’s already learned so much in this lab, they’re working on curing all sorts of-“ He pauses. “Sorry, I could talk about the things she does all day...”

“It’s all right!” Musiea tells him with a laugh. “It sounds like important research!”

“Yeah, and I’ll admit that I have to ask her to slow down and explain things to me a lot of the time...it’s amazing she even knows how.” He sighs. “Anyway...she’s been through a lot herself. Her older brother, Orlando, was kind of a rock for us both. When I was about ten, their mom and dad became foster parents to me, so I got out of the group home. It seemed like it was going to be fine...but then, they...were killed in a really horrible accident four years later...”

“I’m so sorry,” Musiea says quietly.

“It was a shock to everyone...Orlando spent a few days in his room, but he knew he had to rally. He...did a lot of growing up in a really short amount of time. And Marie was so devastated she could barely get out of bed for a couple of months...she tried going back to school but was placed on medical leave indefinitely because she could barely get through the day without breaking down...”

“It’s a horrible thing, losing one’s parents...” Musiea says, looking down into her cup. “Something you wouldn’t wish on anyone...”

“I kept thinking of how hard it was losing my mom,” Darwin says. “My dad passing on sometime after her, well...it’s complicated. But I remember thinking how it wasn’t fair that such good people like their mom and dad didn’t deserve to be robbed of their lives, and how good people like Orlando and Marie didn’t deserve to feel the kind of pain that comes from the loss of one’s parents...”

“But you get through it,” Musiea says. “They did...just like you and I did, and Escher...and the kids I look after now...”

“That’s right,” he says. “It’s hard, but...as long as you’ve got even just one person to help you through it...you’ll be okay.” He looks sad again for a moment. “People like us...maybe we just got lucky, to be at a point where we can talk about these things as parts of our pasts. I don’t know what became of the others in that home, but...I’d like to think that maybe things are better for them now. But I’m glad to know that out of all the kids there, two of them besides me are doing well now.”

Musiea looks up at him with a smile. “And I’ll have to settle for the one, I guess. Really though, I’m glad our paths crossed, Darwin. I feel better than I did before.”

“Well, good. You deserve it, Musiea. You’ve been through a lot, and you’ve done a lot. You’re going to keep doing a lot.” He stands up. “But, that’ll have to be for another time. I’ve got to get the stuff I need for dinner tonight.”

Musiea stands up as well. “And I need to get together a care package for Escher!”

“Right. Well, take care of yourself, too.”

“You do the same. Oh, and Darwin?”

“Hm?”

She smiles. “You really might want to think about using a cart this time.”

It doesn’t take much time at all for her to piece together what’s happened, and she wastes no time being surprised by it, instead breaking out into a run to pursue the thief. She calls out for him to stop, only to realize seconds later that doing so probably wasn’t the best idea. He breaks out into a run as well, making her have to run even faster.

She chases him down, beyond annoyed at her rotten luck, and even more worried about what might happen if she doesn’t catch up with this ruffian. She’d stopped to pick up Rosina’s medicine just before this, and trying to get it replaced could turn out to be costly and time-consuming, and she’d rather not place strain on the monthly budget if it can be avoided.

And then, her luck takes a turn for the better once again as the thief rounds a corner that turns out to lead to a dead end. The alley in which she finds herself is narrow, and for the first time, she’s able to see this man’s face. Something about it seems so...familiar. It’s strange...what is it about his appearance that makes her feel at ease in some ways, but in others, it makes her blood boil?

He moves like he wants to try and run past her, but in a flash, Musiea reaches into her boot and unsheathes a small dagger she keeps on her at times where carrying a sword isn’t the most convenient option. He freezes where he is, obviously not having expected her to be such a difficult target.

“What the hell?” he asks. “Do you always carry a knife on you?!”

“Call it a well-founded sense of paranoia,” she tells him simply. She’s certainly not wrong, having known more than a few shady characters in her life, and having ended up in a serious relationship with one such character.

He frowns, visibly annoyed that he picked such a troublesome target, and Musiea brandishes her blade, making it very clear that she’s not just carrying it around for show. For a while, the two of them just stare at each other, trying to figure out what the other might do next.

Strangely, the thief speaks first. “I can’t believe I made a dumbass move like that. I’m a way better navigator than some idiot who makes a turn into the wrong alley...but you caught me off guard! You sound just like...” He cuts himself off suddenly. “Never mind, it’s not important. I can’t go back empty-handed again.”

“I sound just like what?” Musiea asks him. She finds herself oddly intrigued by this whole situation...but why?

He doesn’t seem to want to answer at first, but it’s obvious he’s at her mercy in just about every way, and he eventually gives in. “You look and sound exactly like my mother.” Her jaw drops in surprise and offense, and he notices. “Not like that! I haven’t seen her since I was a little kid, just calm down...”

“I don’t believe you’re in any position to tell me to calm down,” she tells him. Once more, there’s an awkward sort of silence, and Musiea finds herself with another question. “So did she abandon you, then?”

“In a manner of speaking, though not really by choice. She’d only just recovered from being sick, but she got sick again and...”

“She passed on,” Musiea finishes.

“Yeah...so much for my father’s cowardly effort to save her.”

Father...that word makes Musiea realize, in an instant, why she feels this man seems so familiar. From his coloring, to the way his hair falls, to the way his eyebrows knit together when he seems to be remembering something unpleasant, everything about this man reminds her of her own father. That explains the anger that accompanies the sense of nostalgia...her father was always kind to her, and even the last time she’d ever seen him, he didn’t seem to be harboring any ill intent. In fact, the way she remembers it, when he was telling her to go with the thief that first brought her to Escher...he looked like he was about to cry.

His personal feelings aside, he still handed her over to criminals for reasons she still doesn’t know and likely never will know, and for that, she still hates him. She didn’t exactly have an easy time of it, and she could have had a much worse time if Escher hadn’t helped her escape on the day that trafficker had come by the hideout.

She sighs, realizing she’s been staring. “Sorry, you just...well, you look exactly like my father, and I’m only just now realizing it...”

The thief laughs. “That’s funny...I’ve always been told how much I take after my old man...down to my lack of a spine.”

“It’s pretty spineless to be stealing from people, I’ll admit,” Musiea says, not caring about her harshness. “Though, let me guess: your father is also deceased, and as an orphan, you supported yourself through a life of crime?”

“You don’t know a damn thing,” he shoots back. “I didn’t want to get involved in this life, but I didn’t have a choice...and I wanted to see my little sister again. My old man gave her up as payment for medicine for my mom. He admitted it before he died...”

Those words remind Musiea of why she pursued this man so relentlessly to begin with: the bag in his hands, or perhaps more specifically, the contents of said bag.

“Well, I’m not sure what a life of crime has to do with finding your sister, but...” She eyes her purse for a moment before looking up at the man again. “In that bag is a very important medicine for a sweet but frail little girl who believes she survived being deathly ill as a baby so that she can be a doctor when she grows up. She’s not the only child I look after...there are twenty more children, who all lost their parents during the war, that are under my care. If I don’t get that medicine back, I’ll have to buy a replacement bottle, and that may mean sacrificing some necessities for the other kids.”

She steels her nerves for a possible fight. “I don’t want to have to fight you to get it back, but I know that black-market prices for medicines like these can be quite high, and that you likely won’t just hand it over, but-”

He sighs, doing just that...and not only the medicine. He’s giving her back her entire purse.

“Here, take it,” he says. “You’re a good person, and I’m sorry to have troubled you. Yeah, Dom’s gonna be pissed I didn’t bring back anything today, but...I can’t let a kid suffer...”

The return of her purse is shocking enough, but even more shocking to Musiea is the name he says. Her oldest brother, Dominic, was often called Dom or Nic for short...and what little information this man has given her about himself is causing thoughts to swirl around in her head faster than she can process them.

His mother had been sick, and the medicine needed to cure her was more expensive than they could afford, so his father gave away one of their children...wherever that child was, there was the assumption that she was with criminals...the man before her looks to be close to Musiea’s age, and for him to resemble both his father and hers...and despite being a thief, he doesn’t want children to suffer...he’s a kind person...

Her hands begin to tremble so intensely that the dagger falls to the ground. Her voice utters a name so softly that it’s almost in a whisper.

“Luka...?” The name of her kind brother, two years her senior, who always bore a strong resemblance to their father. She hasn’t seen him since she was a little girl, but the way the man before her responds to the name answers her question before he can even say anything.

“How...how do you know my name?!”

By then, she can’t stop the tears from falling, but she smiles anyway. “I...I look that much like Mom? I s-still think she was much prettier...but then, you...w-were always so nice to me...!”

For a moment, he looks even more baffled, but then, his mouth opens slightly in surprise. “No way...Aida?!”

She nods, and she can’t stop herself from sobbing...especially not when her big brother starts crying as well, and for the first time in too long, the two siblings embrace each other.

“You...you always were such a crybaby...!” she tells him.

“T-Takes one to know one!” he says. “I can’t believe it...I always tried to hold onto hope that we’d find you again, but Vince just kept saying-“

“And when has Vincent ever said anything positive?” she asks him, unable to keep herself from pointing out her second oldest brother’s tendency to be sullen and moody. “I...I just can’t believe it! You’ve really been looking for me all this time?”

“Of course we have!” Luka assures her. “Dominic managed to get Dad to admit what he’d done, and we figured the best thing to do would be to try and work from the inside...but by the time we found a lead of any kind, we figured we were too late! The hideout for that gang looked like a massacre had taken place there, and when we asked around, they said the kid living there was a noble, and a boy...”

“So you found the right place...I just hadn’t been there for years!” She smiles, pulling back to look at her brother’s face as well as she can through her tears. For the first time since the surprising encounter, he actually looks happy.

“Either way...I’m going to have to tell the others! They’ll all want to see you!”

“And I want to see them! But...I have more shopping to do. And now I have to be even more on the lookout for purse thieves...” She shoots him a glare that’s fully meant to be teasing as she picks her dagger up, sheathes it again, and puts it back into the side of her boot.

He smiles apologetically, holding the bag out to her again. She wastes no time in taking it back and slinging it over her shoulder. “Really...I’m sorry about all that...”

“For now, I’ll overlook your line of work,” she tells him, placing her hands on her hips. “After all, I’d rather not ruin such a heartfelt reunion. That, and I know that even good people can be found in the most unsavory professions.”

“You always did know how to see the good in people,” Luka says.

“I don’t know about that...but I learned long ago not to judge people based upon what they do for a living. Times are hard, I know that much...” She sighs. “But I’ll have quite a lot to carry, so if you want to apologize, you can help me carry it all.”

He beams proudly. “I’ll do you one better: I’ll help, and on the off-chance you end up with more than you can carry, I know of four other guys who would love to help as well.”

They became criminals to try and find their sister again, after the death of their mother, and as their father admitted to them on his deathbed that he’d given up his only daughter to thieves to pay them for stealing the medicine needed to save their mother’s life (that illness was cured, but her condition worsened due to the grief of knowing her daughter was likely lost forever). They’re good guys at heart, despite their issues, and family is of great importance to them all.

The oldest, Dominic, is seven years older than Musiea. He’s a born leader and a fast thinker, and his pep talks are second to none. As far as criminal stuff, he’s good at just a little bit of everything, but as a muscular tank of a man (in stark contrast to his slight younger sister), he’s a fantastic brawler. It was his idea to go into the criminal underworld after their father, who was at death’s door due to an illness that likely came about due to the grief or losing his wife and the guilt of giving away his only daughter, revealed he had given up their sister to a group of thieves in order to pay for their late mother’s medicine. Even at thirteen years old, he figured the best way to get in with thieves was to become a thief himself. Still, he tried to raise his little brothers to the best of his ability, though he was still only a child himself. He’s a generally serious type, mostly because he had to grow up very quickly after losing both of his parents. Overall, he bears little resemblance to Musiea, but they do have the same hair and eye color.

Vincent is five years older than Musiea, and is possibly even worse than she is as far as his temper and level of stubbornness. He has their father’s brown hair but their mother’s blue eyes, and looks almost eerily like Musiea when he’s angry or sulking...which is often. He is described as being full of piss and vinegar, and he’ll fight someone if they so much as think about looking at him the wrong way. Because of his experience with fighting, he’s almost as skilled as Dominic...and that drives him crazy. Ever since he was little, he’s felt the need to compete with his older brother, and his inferiority complex is a huge part of him at this point. He also has a bad habit of picking up women and using them for his physical needs, and that has caused numerous problems in the past.

If all the fire went to Vince, then Milo, the third brother, who is four years older than Musiea, got all the chill. He is apathy incarnate, and he is unimaginably lazy. He has a tendency to fall asleep whenever he feels like it, which is often. He’s practically a genius, so he gets bored easily. In modern AU settings, he’s an expert hacker, and entirely self-taught. He’s also excellent at eavesdropping, even able to remember conversations that occurred while he was sleeping. He’s not much of a fighter, though his blunt comments will often cause tempers to flare up, and he won’t hesitate to hit someone if they wake him up from one of his impromptu naps. He seems to have difficulty remembering his little sister’s new name, though it’s more likely that he just doesn’t care enough and can’t be bothered. He has their mother’s blond hair (though permanently sleep-tousled) and their father’s green eyes. He looks most like Musiea when she’s tired or is just waking up.

Luka, the fourth son, is the most peaceful, and perhaps the least suited to a life of crime. He is only two years older than Musiea, and looks mostly like their father, bearing almost no resemblance to his sister at all. As a child, he was much more of a crybaby, and as an adult, he simply lacks backbone. He can take a lot of punches before ever hitting back. He’s not great at criminal endeavors, though his somewhat shy and timid nature makes him very good at pickpocketing and theft, and he’s fast. After all, if you’re not so willing to fight, you have to be good at running away. For modern AU settings, he’s a great driver, and he’s always in charge of the getaway car. The only time he was ever able to assert himself was if someone - whether it was one of his older brothers or one of the neighborhood kids - was doing something to upset either of his younger siblings. His family is important to him, and he’s good with kids. When his little demonic nephews pop up (out?), he’s a doting uncle.

She’s spent enough time with Escher to know that even when his words can sound cold and unfeeling, what’s in his heart might not always match the words he says. She watched him raise this child alongside her...always giving her rides on his shoulders, reading her stories, smiling whenever she declared his cooking was better...he loved their little girl. He stayed by her bedside in her final days, refusing to sleep despite her pleas for him to do so, when she was lucid enough to know who he was...

It always seemed like whenever this sort of thing happened, Escher was always quick to suggest that they pack up and move somewhere else. The first time it had happened, Musiea was shocked and appalled...she scolded him.for his insensitivity. How could he possibly be so eager to go away so soon after the death of one of their children? Later, when she’d found out the truth, she’d felt awful, begging for his forgiveness. Escher wasn’t being insensitive...it was the opposite. He just couldn’t stand to be so close to the grave of one of his children...the constant reminder that his own son or daughter was in the ground while he had thousands of years left to live was too painful, and he hated breaking down. He needed to be elsewhere.

So hearing him say that, she knows it’s for her benefit. Whether he’s referring to their inevitable move to another part of the world, or moving through grief...he’s right. They need to keep moving, and they will, as long as they have the life to do so. She’s not sure how many years remain at this point, but she knows there are many left.

For the moment, she’s managed to stop her crying as she thinks on that, looking at the mound of earth beneath which their daughter now finds her eternal rest. However, her eyes drift upward to his face, and she sees something that sets her off once more.

There aren’t just tears all over her face any more. She can see that there’s one running down his now, too. For Escher to break down, she knows the level of anguish has to be tremendous...it's undoubtedly as deep and as unwavering as her own.

She finds herself weeping in his arms again, holding onto him tightly, trying to quiet her sobs for long enough to speak. “Y-You’re right...we will...w-we have to, Escher...!” She reaches up, touches his cheek, and brushes his tears away with her thumb. “But...we’ll n-never forget...not one of them...b-because...!” She forces herself to smile. “That’s...our duty, isn’t it? A-As long as we’re alive, we...we just have to remember them, Escher...!”

The door opens. Sounds of a struggle. Her footsteps quicken. The red light of the sunset hitting the floor through the stained glass windows. More red on the floor, but it reflects the light. More red, there’s so much red on the floor.

“Musiea...why, Musiea...?”

Her heartbeat stops for a moment. White cloth stained red. Faces, frozen in the horror that can only be brought about by imminent death. Eyes wide with fear. Limp bodies. Blood pours forth. The priest she called Father gasps out the first syllable of her name, then he falls. More blood.

“Have you forgotten, Musiea...? That man...“

A tall figure clad in all black. A sword with black details, blood visible on the metal. A cruel smile with the strikingly white teeth of a man, though adorned with the fangs of a beast. Steely eyes, feeling nothing. A shock of silver hair spattered with blood. A silhouette outlined in the red light that makes him look like a demon.

“Musiea...that man...that man, Musiea...“

Cold eyes turn to her. A curse is muttered. Sacrilege. The noise within her mind grows too loud. She begins to chase him, even though she knows she’s no match. She’s clumsy, and she already feels faint. She can’t run. He escapes.

“Musiea...that man...how could you...?“

She’s lost. She’s devastated. The children are innocent. They can’t see this. For just a moment, she has to pretend. She saw nothing. Nothing is wrong. A door opens. Curious eyes. Careful instructions. “And then go straight to bed and don’t leave until I say you can.” Watching, waiting for the children to leave on their own before she goes back. Gods, she doesn’t want to go back there.

“Musiea...you always were a foolish child, Musiea...”

Screams of rage. Tears of despair. Frantically grasping cold and lifeless hands. Repeatedly checking for pulses only to find stillness. “No...one of you has to be...”

“You couldn’t save us, Musiea...but doing such a thing? That man...”

What do I do? I can’t leave them. How do you even prepare a body for burial...? She’s weak. She can’t carry them all. Dragging them from place to place wouldn’t be right...it would be disrespectful. But she can’t leave them there...she just can’t.

“Throwing us in an unmarked mass grave would be nothing compared to the dishonor of what you’ve done, Musiea...“

Little hands broken and bloody from digging. Night falls. Deep enough, long enough...she can’t quite tell. Her vision is clouded from tears. White cloth turned brown by the earth. Darkness. Night goes on. She’s exhausted. But she can’t stop...no...I’m sorry. I meant to lay you to rest, not to let you fall like that...just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean...I’m sorry, my arms are just so tired...it’s nearly dawn...forgive my carelessness...

“Musiea...wretched girl. You’ve betrayed us all. You...and that man...“

Things flow together around her normally, from what she can tell. It’s pitch black...save for the forms of the priest and the sisters standing in a circle around her Their white clothes are still stained red, as they were on that day. They look at her with anger, disappointment, and hurt.

Tears sting at her eyes and cause her chest to tighten. “I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry, everyone! I couldn’t save you...I could barely manage to bury you! All I could do right was say the prayers. I’m-”

“Enough. You really were a stupid girl.“

She gasps. “S-Sister, why-!?”

“You were given a name to welcome you as a child of our faith,“ the father said coldly. “You planned to avenge us by seeking out the man who killed us, and ending his life. But what have you done instead?“

She looks down in shame. When he puts it that way, she knows exactly what she’s done to invoke their wrath. She looks down in shame. “I...I...”

“Your name is that of a servant to the gods,“ he continues. “Yet you allow that man to use it as he defiles you. You stated many times that would would never forgive him for what he’d done to us, yet you fall into his arms. You pledged your life to the gods, and you’ve all but thrown that away, selfishly spending your days chasing false happiness with that man. You’re pathetic. You’ve no right to shed tears.”

She’s in shock. Never once has he even spoken to her so harshly, but perhaps she’s never done anything before that deserves such anger and contempt from him. They all join in.

“Wench...disgusting...fool...harlot...naive...pathetic...traitor...traitor...traitor!!!”

“No...stop...!” She pleads with them, shrinking away. Once more, she’s a frightened little child, begging not to be hit or worked to the point of exhaustion for accidentally letting something important be broken...in the way that she accidentally fell in love with the man she swore she would kill out of revenge. “Listen to me...you sold those children into slavery...it was just a job for him...if you hadn’t, then you might still be alive! He’s not evil, like I thought...he’s kind, in his own way...he makes me laugh and smile when I need to...he’s kept me safe more times than I can count, and...I love him! You need to stop this...”

They don’t stop, instead growing louder. “No, stop it...stop! No...no!!!” She covers her ears and falls to the ground. She can still hear their taunts, and all she can do is scream to try and drown them out.

She’s not sure if that scream occurred in real life as well...all she knows next is that she’s sitting upright in bed, breathing heavily. Her nightie is drenched with an icy sweat, and there’s darkness all around her. What she saw...it was all just a nightmare.

She’s rattled...it’s been a very long time since she’s had one of those kinds of nightmares, but that last part? That's new...

At once, she recalls both the details from her memories of the frightening beast of a man covered in the blood of her family, whom he’d just slain, and the man that she’d defended adamantly despite being terrified and taunted. It’s hard to believe they’re one and the same...

She’s not sure what makes her start sobbing so pitifully. To think that the same faces that once gave her comfort now filled her with such fear and shame...and the face that paralyzed her with fear, the one that she considered the face of evil itself...belonged to the man she now found herself seeking out for solace. She finds that warmth, throwing her arms around him and crying so hard that she has to gasp for air.

She still isn’t sure if her scream was real, but if he wasn’t awake then, he must be by now. She clings to him desperately, not wanting to let him go...and the words of her dead family echo in her mind. Even so, she cries out his name, finding that just the sound of it makes her feel safer...and she can’t help but hate herself a little for that.