A one-shot for Abby the Band Nerd. Elizabeth and Claire are of her creative licensing, Arabelle (who is briefly mentioned) is of my creation. All others belong to the Amnesia series.

The carpenter's strong arms lifted the bureau from the floor and flipped it over, sending it's contents scattering across the polished wooden floors. He ignored the crash it made as it landed on the floor, overturned and splitting down the middle. Instead he turned in the direction of the cowering maid in the corner, the maid who tried to shield her dark eyes behind a curtain of light brown hair. She seemed so feeble, so weak, it was impossible to think she could have released the angry beast before her.

"Dammit, Claire!" Basile shouted as his knee banged against the corner of the bed, sending a sharp stab of pain shooting through his body. The large, burly man staggered around as he waited for the pain to dull. Without his vision, he was more a clumsy oaf than ever before, but that didn't stop him from hearing the sobs that came from the corner and directing him to his frightened lover.

He continued to stumble his way in her direction, slamming his shins against multiple objects and continually cursing until he reached the cowering girl. She lifted her hands to shield her face, only to have her wrists grabbed by the man's rough hands. He squeezed them tightly and yanked her to her feet, holding her wrists so she couldn't move without injuring herself severely. She was trapped like a mouse, and the hungry cat was bearing down upon her menacingly.

"Basile, please," she squeaked, opening her palms to shield herself. She knew his strength, what he was capable of, but it was questionable of whether he did or not. He could easily snap her neck if he shook her too roughly or break her wrists by holding them too tightly, as he did now. "Please, Basile, let's be rational."

Rational. A part of Basile didn't even an example of rational, much less a basic definition. And as the back of his hand connected with the apple of Claire's cheek she knew her Basile - the loving, sweet, tender one she'd come to love - was gone and Justine's - the angry, bitter, menacing one she'd thought had disappeared - had returned.

"God dammit, Claire!" he shouted, his voice so angry it was as if he didn't even recognize that he had hurt her. But Claire recognized it, holding her hand burning cheek as tears stung at her eyes. "God fucking dammit!"

"Basile, please," she whimpered again. "It's Malo we're speaking of. You can't expect much of him. Plus, it was a joke. I didn't mind it." The words came out of her mouth before she realized the damage they could cause. And by then it was too late to take them back, as Basile's fist was already in motion - connecting with Claire's jaw and sending her tumbling backwards.

His rage boiled inside of him, his heart rate rising as his breath came to him in short, shallow pants. Part of him knew he shouldn't be reacting as he was over what happened, knowing full well Malo and his pathetic attempts to flirt with Claire were as controllable as Malo and Elizabeth's sexual habits. But the raging beast overwhelmed that part, feeling particularly fond of releasing all of the pent up anger Basile had been able to hide so well in the presence of his love.

The same love who cowered before him, blinking back the tears she knew he was unable to see. Part of her was ready to give up and slip away, hopefully quiet enough that he wouldn't hear her, but she knew she would be unable to leave him in his time of need. Even if he was hurting her, she knew he couldn't help it. After all, he had been trapped by that...that...that bitch for months, and Claire's rage towards her was unparalleled, even by Basile. Everything that was wrong with him, ever mental affair, was all because of her evil ways. And that was a fact that made Claire want to scream and cry and bash someone's head in at the same time.

But she was too late, Justine already had her date with the gallows so she would have to settle for taking her anger out on the dishes and other assorted chores Elizabeth had her do around the house.

"Basile please, I'm sorry..." her voice was pleading as she wiped some blood from the corner of her mouth, but it was too late. Basile was already marching out the door, pausing briefly to turn his head in her general direction. For a moment, Claire's heart skipped a beat as he shook his head. Was he about to realize what he did, break down and leave this rage induced tirade?

"Shut up, Claire!" he growled instead, "Just shut the fuck up."

Malo was applying the rosin to his violin bow, Elizabeth read over their collaborated music at her piano, and Basile spewed profanities as he stormed in. His abrupt entranced caused Malo to drop the stone in his hands and Elizabeth to rise from the bench, their eyebrows creasing with worry at the same moment.

"Monsieur Giroux! What is the meaning of this?" Elizabeth called, taking a few steps towards to ranting man before he punched the certificate dedicated to Arabelle's excellence in poetry. The sudden, rash action made Elizabeth hesitate in her step before backing away. Malo cross the room to stand in front of her, rest his arms on her hips as he stared into the sockets where Basile's eyes used to be.

"Basile, what has come over you?" the cannibal asked - confusion and fear coloring his voice.

"You know damn well, Monsieur de Vigny," Basile spat his name, "what has come over me. You son of a bi-"

"That is quite enough, Basile!" Elizabeth shouted, pulling away from Malo to walk over to Basile. "Now, I ask that you calm yourself and not do anything rash. We are all adults here and I know we would all respect to be treated as such. Now, let us be rational about things. What has Malo done to offend you so?"

"Please, Basile, let's be rational!" Claire whimpered.

"Out of my way, Elizabeth!" Basile shouted, grabbing her shoulder and flinging her to the side. The pianist's frail body slammed into the edge of the wall, causing her to bleed from the head. As she struggled to hold herself up, touching her fingers to the wound, Malo went berserk.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR ISSUE, BASILE?" he screamed at the top of his lungs. Malo watched in despair as Elizabeth choked back tears and tended to her open wound, calling out for Claire to come and help her. He lunged towards his fellow suitor, knowing his strength was no match for Basile's but sure he could get some damage in.

Malo had never been more wrong in his whole life, instantly being lifted up by Basile and being thrown through the wall. He landed with a loud thud, covered in plaster and wooden fragments. Basile was known for his unparalleled strength but surely he had outdone himself this time. Throwing a full grown man - who is not light - is quite the achievement and in other situations he would applaud the carpenter. But this was not exactly the moment for celebration.

"BASILE!" Claire's voice shrieked. "Basile what have you done?" she was on the verge of tears. Lifting his head, Malo saw the brunette maid in the doorway, kneeling beside her mistress and pressing a towel against her bloody head. "Don't you see this is madness?" The raging man hesitated for a moment, his lower lip quivering as Claire's tongue lashing continued. She rose to her feet and crossed the room, holding her hand against his chest and looking up at him. She could still see his eyes in her mind and imagined she was staring into them. "Basile this isn't you. This isn't the you I know. This is her Basile. Whatever happened to the Basile I love?"

Her voice was so soft, so soothing, it shocked even Malo. Basile might have unparalleled strength but Claire had an unparalleled nature for compassion and love. Even in the face of an angry, bitter monster she was so sweet, so innocent. Her past, hard and scarring, had shaped her into the most angelic individual. It was impossible not to listen to her.

Basile shook his head, placing it in his hands as he fell to his knees. "Claire I...I...I'm so sorry I hurt you," he whispered, his voice breaking as the maid wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know Basile. I know." She tenderly pressed her lips against his slightly warm forehead. "I know, love." The repetition of her words soothed him, causing his heart rate to slow and his blood to stop coursing through him.

The act of terrorizing the entire household had run him ragged, and he was sick and tired of being angry. He just wanted to heal, to feel, to be the old Basile.

"I don't blame you, I really don't."