What happened to Manfred after the events of his mothers ghost haunting Home Cookin' in 'Wall'.

Warning: Abuse, sort of self-harm, murder, blood.

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Pushing his shovel into the pile of lose dirt he had just dug up Emilio let out a soft sigh wiping the sweat from his brow. The sun was beating down making it harder than normal to work, but he needed the distraction.

Normally he did his best thinking when he was digging graves for the animal cemetery. There was just something about the labor that let his mind find the solution to any problem that was plaguing him.

That's how it usually was at least. He should have known that he wouldn't be able to just figure out what he was supposed to do by digging up some graves. Not when the problem centered around one Manfred Bernardo.

Ever since the younger man joined their little family things had been changing all around them. Not just with the veil thinning either. He had always felt as if there was something missing and it seemed to be fixed when the man arrived.

They were a family and they all loved and cared for each other, but when push came to shove they were still all in their own little worlds. If they didn't need to it was very unlikely that they would all be in one place at one time.

He was one of the worst at that. Spending time in his church and away from everyone else was something he did all of the time. As much as he loved his family he was more than a little nervous to be around so many people.

The same thing could be said of pretty much everyone in town. They all cared deeply for each other, but they spent more time away from each other or paired off than they did together. Manfred joining had changed that somehow.

It was because of that change that he knew he wasn't the only one thinking of the psychic. He was once again the talk of the Midnighter's. Well, not just the Midnighter's. Everyone seemed to have noticed that something was wrong. Probably because no one had seen him for days.

Emilio knew that at the very least Chuy, Olivia, and Bobo had tried to talk to the man, but he wouldn't leave his house. From what he had heard from them he looked even worse than he had before. Though he didn't know how that was possible.

It seemed as if all the progress that he had made with them was gone. He was slowly falling into the old habits that had almost killed him before with a vengeance. It was a terrifying thought, but it was almost as if he was attempting to end it all.

That wasn't something that the Reverend had said out loud, but he was sure that he wasn't the only one thinking it. If he was going off the looks he had seen on his friends faces… They were all thinking that they didn't have much time to solve it before it was too late.

All in all it made no sense to him. Manfred had been doing so well the past few months. He was coming out of his shell and accepting that he was a part of their family. He had even began to take care of himself. He had been truly okay. At least that's what he had thought.

Something had changed when Home Cookin' get haunted. Emilio knew that it was one of the harder cases for Manfred since it had involved his mother, but he had truly thought that if something was wrong that he'd talk to someone about what happened.

He might have grown up with a loving family, but he would have been there for the psychic if he had needed. Dealing with a parent that was abusive was not something that he had to go through alone. Especially when said parent tried to kill him.

Emilio's jaw clenched in anger at the mere thought. One of the things that he hated more than anything was watching a child far their own parent. A parent was supposed to be loving and protective. Not abusive.

With Manfred though it was different in a way. He was getting to know the man more than he knew the people that came into his church sometimes. The younger man might have his fair share of issues, but he was kindhearted and more than willing to lay down his life if he thought someone deserved it. He was a good person.

There was a part of his thoughts that had to do with how he was raised. Were's in general were a close knit family. Maybe not a large one, but if they thought of someone as family than they weren't going to walk away any time soon.

It's rare someone like him to have lived alone for as long as he did and then choose to live somewhere that didn't have another like him. He had learned long ago though that blood and powers didn't always equal family though.

Growing up his mother had been the preacher for the community they lived in. As far as he knew they were the only supernatural creatures there, but it hadn't made a difference to them having to hide that side away.

He could remember that they had an open door policy for the people around town. His mother always said that as weretigers they knew what it felt like to be an outsider and that it was their duty to make a home for people that felt the same way.

They house they lived in wasn't large by any means, but it was warm and happy. Everyone had come to see his mother at one point in time or another. He could still remember baking with his older brother so there was always cookies for those who needed a little pick me up.

He had loved growing up in the environment. He had promised himself that that was the life that he was going to live one day. He was going to be able to provide a safe haven for everyone that needed it. Supernatural or not. Then came the fateful day that someone took advantage of it, of them.

He hadn't thought it all that odd when someone new came into their home. It was sort of the thing that people did when they first moved into the town. They unpacked their homes and then they looked came to his home at the suggestion of everyone.

To this day he still didn't know the full details of what had happened that night. He could remember his friend having a movie marathon that night and convincing his parents to let him go. None of them thought there was any danger.

Then no one came to pick him up after the movies ended. Something that was odd. No matter how busy his family was they were never too busy for him. That just wasn't the type of people that they were.

It took another hour before his friends father drove him home and walked him to the door to make sure everything was okay. When he walked through the front door though… The last thing that they were was okay.

After that the cops had come and had tried to figure out what had happened. All he knew was that his neighbor had seen a random person go into the house and leave an hour later. It wasn't uncommon so he paid little mind to it.

The fact that in that hour the person had torn his family to shreds was not something he liked to think about. There had been so many body parts strewn around the place that the police hadn't been able to tell who was who at first. For as long as he lived he would never be able to get that sight out of his mind.

After that he had lost his way for awhile. There was no other family that he could go to and as far as he knew there were no other weretiger's around. So he went on his own and tried to deal with everything that happened. At least that's what he told himself.

He had just been so angry at everything that had happened that all the things that his mother had taught him went out of the window. For the first time in his life he gave himself over to his animal side. He would never be able to wash all of the blood from his hands.

Being the creature that he was he knew that there was a chance of him being released and hurting someone, but he had thought that with his family around he would be fine. With them gone though he started to actively seek that out.

As scary as it was he had wanted to cause pain back then. He had wanted someone else to suffer they way he had. He knew now that he hadn't been dealing with his emotions at all, but at the time all he wanted to do was hurt people.

One night he was stalking his prey. At the time he hadn't thought much of it, but he had picked a preacher as his next target. Not that he could really target the kills, but as long as the person he picked died at his claws he didn't care if anyone else got in the way.

Something he was not proud to admit that he had done that, but he had gotten so lost in his own pain. Not that it justified what he did. Doing that though had helped him in a way that he never saw coming.

He had only had two days before his tiger would be free and he had to make sure that the preacher would be in the right spot at the right time. He never thought that the man would notice that he was being followed.

Then his victim literally walked up to him holding a cup of tea. A part of him had wanted to forget that he had to wait for the full moon to kill him there. How dare he attempt to act as if he knew him? The man knew nothing of the pain that he felt!

Then he looked into the older man's eyes and saw the same peace and unconditional love that he had seen in his mother's eyes. It was as if everything that she had taught him and come rushing back to him and he broke.

In the middle of the street he had fallen to his knees and cried for everything that he had lost and for what he had become. The two of them sat there for hours before Emilio decided that he had to get away and ran.

For the first time since the night of the murders he had made sure that he was nowhere near people when the full moon came. Once it was over and he was back to his right mind he set out to be the person he knew would made his family proud.

It had taken him awhile but he was finally that person. He wanted nothing more than to be the person that helped get someone off that kind of path. For awhile he thought he had done that for Manfred, but now he was worse than before and no one knew why.

It was hard to have a conversation with someone when they had all but locked themselves in their house. If he had thought that the man had a wall up before he had no idea how to describe it now. Though that seemed to be a common thing for Manfred.

Whenever something happened the psychic put all the weight on his shoulders for some reason. Even when it wasn't his job to do something he put himself in a position and didn't back down until everyone, except him, was safe.

It was frustrating to say the least, but it just proved Emilio's point that the man's mother had no idea how wonderful her son truly was. If he was honest though he felt as if he didn't know just how wonderful the man was either. Or how anything he was.

Ever since that night he had talked to the man maybe twice. The attack had been almost two months ago and he had gone from talking to Manfred every day to talking to him twice. It was wrong on so many levels. He had been proud to call the man his friend. He wasn't sure he could say that anymore. It broke his heart to watch as he slowly lost someone he cared deeply for.

A sigh fell from his lips at that. It was as if they were back to the beginning and that was never a good thing. Going backwards only ever put a person in danger of getting lost in their own worst fear. Something that Manfred was at risk of enough in his normal, everyday life already.

As much as Emilio hated it it was back to playing the waiting game with him. Of watching from the distance as he slowly killed himself and hoping that he came to his sense before he did any real damage.

With the way that the man was locked in his home though something told him that more than a little damage had already been done. He was sure that it could be fixed though. If only something changed. Quickly.

The sudden need to go see the younger man and see if he was alright filled him. He needed to see that the damage he was inflicting on himself could be reversed. He needed to see that Manfred wasn't as gone as he feared.

As much as he hated to admit it he wasn't sure that he would ever see the man look like he used to. If something didn't change soon then… What was he saying? He wasn't going to have to watch the man and he couldn't keep sitting around doing nothing.

Grabbing his hat he started towards Manfred's house quickly. It was doubtful that a few extra minutes would cause anything worse, but there was a panic in him that made him want to get there was soon as possible.

When he got to the front door some of his steam was gone, but he couldn't let himself stop and talk himself out of it. Instead he simply knocked on the door and waited. He stood there for long enough that he was sure the man wasn't going to answer. Then the door creaked open.

It took all of his will power not to gasp when he saw Manfred. He was so sickly looking. His skin was gray and drawn so tightly to his bones he looked more like a skeleton than a human. He had known that it was bad but he had no idea how bad.

"Manfred," Emilio whispered worriedly.

"What's going on?" Manfred questioned his sunken eyes sluggishly looking behind him like he was looking for some kind of threat.

"May I come in?"

"W-What?"

Cocking his head to the side Emilio stepped closer so he could look into his friend's eyes. The hazel eyes looked dull in a way that scared him. Without thinking he reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder his eyes going wide when he felt the man shaking.

"Manfred," he repeated stepping closer becoming all the more sure that he was going to collapse.

"I..." the psychic started before shaking his head, "Emilio?"

Moving without thinking the weretiger directed the younger man into the house and closed the door firmly behind him. Right now neither of them needed to have anyone else think it was a good idea to come over.

Getting the psychic onto the couch he looked around to see what he could use to help him. He had to force himself not to take stock in how empty the house looked when only two months ago it looked like a home.

With a quick shake of his head Emilio grabbed a blanket that had fallen onto the floor and wrapped it around the man's slim frame watching as it encompassed him. He looked so much smaller than he was

"What happened?" Emilio asked kneeling in front of the man placing his hand on his leg when it became clear he wasn't focused, "Manfred? What happened?"

"Nothing," he answered his voice hollow as he tugged the blanket tighter, "I'm fine."

"Manfred..."

"You should leave."

There was something in the younger man's voice that made every hair on his body stand on end. If he didn't know any better he would think that the man was possessed. Fiji's spell wouldn't have worn off though. They were safe from that in the house.

He wasn't sure that that knowledge was comforting in any way. If a ghost wasn't in control of Manfred that meant he was doing it all on his own. He was the one that sounded as if he had just given up on it all.

"I can't do that," Emilio supplied moving to sit next to the man on the couch, "Not until you talk to me. I can't keep watching you kill yourself like this, Manfred. You don't deserve the pain you're putting yourself through."

"I deserve worse."

"Why?"

"Because I forgot!"

Hearing the anger clear in the psychic's voice Emilio felt himself freeze. In the time he knew the man he had never heard him actually sound angry. Annoyed and ticked off, yes, but never truly angry. It was concerning to say the least.

"The night that we dealt with that ghost in Home Cookin'," Manfred started his hands shaking though his eyes were hard as steel, "Do you know what anniversary that was?"

"No, I don't."

"That was the day I murdered my Daddy."

Blinking a few times Emilio stared at the man trying his best to keep his face even. The last thing he needed was for the man to know that he was effected by the words. Though that was exactly what he was.

He had done some horrible things in his life, things that he would never forgive himself for. The one thing he hadn't done was talk so openly about them. To anyone. He kept a tight lid on that part of his life.

Something that he was sure that the rest of them did. There was no chance that anyone with the kind of powers that they all had could learn control without causing more than a little damage along the way.

Because of that he found himself waiting for the psychic to continue. Right now wasn't the time for judging. It was the time for listening. There had to be something more to the story than what he was saying. He just had to wait for the full story.

"What happened?" the Reverend questioned when nothing else was said.

"I don't know," Manfred offered a broken laugh falling from his lips as tears filled his eyes, "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I was… It was the first time I was possessed. I didn't even know what possessed meant. I didn't know I was psychic or that magic was real or any of that. I knew nothing of this life. I hadn't even been showing signs that I could be anything but normal. I think… I was five. I don't really remember all that much from that time."

"What do you remember?"

"Knocking."

"Knocking?"

Emilio watched as his friend started to gently tap a finger on his thigh. There wasn't really a noise, but he knew that the man was falling into the memory of that night. As much as he wanted to pull him out he knew that he needed to talk about what happened.

"I thought someone was at the front door," Manfred supplied his voice sounding far away, "My mother was sleeping and my father was on the phone so I answered. No one was there so I closed the door and it started again. I… I don't remember what I thought I was doing, but I went outside then into the empty house next door. All the while following that knocking. No one was there, but the knocking got louder and louder. I was so scared. Then my Daddy showed up. He tried to get us out, but then..."

"Manfred?" he asked softly.

"You know when you first let a ghost into your body it's like a thick cloud of blackness. You can't see anything, but you can feel. It's either fear or anger usually. So deep that it feels as if it's engrained to your soul. If you know what you're doing you can fight the black, but I didn't. I didn't know what I was supposed to do to get free. I tried to fight it, Emilio, I really did, but I wasn't strong enough."

Hearing the man's voice break the Reverend moved forward and gathered the man in his arms. There wasn't much he could do to comfort Manfred, but he was going to try his best to help in any way that he could.

"I don't know how long it was before the black fell away," Manfred finally said weakly.

"What did you see?" Emilio asked already dreading the answer.

"Blood. So much blood. On the walls, on me, on everything that was in that room. My Daddy he… It was his. All of it was his!"

"Manfred-"

"I ripped out his throat! I was five and I ripped out my Daddy's throat with my bare hands! I dug my nails into his flesh and I ripped! Do you not get that?"

Tightening his hold when the younger man tried to pull away he closed his eyes and took on his full weight as the fight slipped out of him. Sobs fell from the psychic's lips his body shaking so badly Emilio shook as well.

"I killed him," Manfred gasped out between sobs, "I killed my Daddy."

"No, you didn't," Emilio stated firmly forcing the man back so he could look into the hazel eyes and wipe the tears away, "You did not kill your father."

"If I hadn't..."

"If you had been taught about your powers early on then you wouldn't have followed the noise. Manfred, you were a child that had an untold amount of power in you. What happened was not your fault."

"He was my father. He meant the world to me. My mother was not the best. I think… I think he was going to leave her and have a good life. A free life. I took that from him."

"Manfred-"

"I killed him, Emilio!"

"A ghost that possessed you killed him."

"If I wasn't a freak then-"

"Stop right there, Manfred."

"Emilio..."

"No, you are not a freak, Manfred. At least no more than the rest of us. That might be what your mother called you, but that lays on her shoulders, not yours."

Feeling the man shake his head against his chest Emilio let out a sigh before carding a hand through the man's short hair. All he wanted to do was comfort the man, but a part of him felt as if he was doing more damage than good pushing him. He wasn't sure that the man could handle more.

"Emilio," Manfred started pulling away before falling silent.

"You can tell me, Manfred," the Reverend assured, "Nothing you say will go further than me."

"I… I keep hearing my mother."

"She was the ghost that was haunting Home Cookin' right?"

"Yes."

"What did she tell you?"

"The same thing that she told me when she was alive. That I was a freak. That she should have had an abortion and ended the Bernardo line for good. That you guys… That it was all a lie."

"That what was a lie?"

"All of this. She said… I don't have a place in this world. She was right, Emilio. I don't belong here. She knew that from the beginning and she wished she had killed me. If that's how she felt- If that's how my own mother felt then it has to be true."

The choked sadness left his voice only to be replaced by a tired acceptance. He was close to giving up on it all and that was scarier than anything he saw before. Manfred was too calm to not be planning something.

"Manfred," he started before sighing hating himself for what he was able to ask, "Do you… Do you think not having your powers would have made a difference?"

"What?" the younger man questioned staring at him in confusion, "Changed what?"

"Do you think your mother would have changed if you didn't have your power? Or would she still have been abusive?"

"I don't- I don't know."

"Yes, you do. No one wants to admit that their parent was never fit to be one, but you have to know that she would never have been a good parent. You were never the problem, Manfred. She was. What she said doesn't reflect on you, but on how much she hated herself."

"If I wasn't psychic..."

"Did the abuse start before or after your powers came?"

Manfred looked away his eyes darting around as he tried to remember that far in the past. It had been more than twenty years since it had happened and, though it was hard to remember, it was still effecting him.

Emilio hated his friends mother for doing that to him. She had aimed to destroy him in ways that no one would be able to fix. She had tried so hard to take away a life could be amazing because she hated herself.

"Before, but..." Manfred tried to say sounding lost

"Then that isn't the reason," Emilio soothed running a hand over his back, "You are not the reason for her abuse."

"I… I wasn't? Then why? Why did she do all of that? Why did she hate me?"

"No, Manfred, she was. She didn't hate you as much as she hated herself and she didn't handle that. I can't say who she was or why exactly she did what she did, but you were a child. You were supposed to be protected by her. She failed you not the other way around. She tried to convince you otherwise, but that was because she couldn't handle what she had become. It was never on you."

The younger man fell silent at that. He looked so much younger than he was in that moment and Emilio couldn't help but gather the man in his arms once more and hold him close trying to show him that he wasn't alone.

"I..." Manfred tried to say only to fall short.

"I know," Emilio offered smiling sadly, "I know that feeling. All of us do. When we first came here we wanted to find something we didn't think we deserved. Over time we realized that the past built us, but didn't define us. Our actions now do. You're not alone in this fight, Manfred. We won't let you go alone. Just let us help you."

"How can I believe that? My own mother didn't want me."

"I've found building a family is a lot better than being born to one sometimes. You're part of our family. We love you for who you are not who others think you should be."

"You'd really be willing to deal with me? Deal with my issues and my faults and my..."

"You're my family, Manfred. I will always be there for my family. No matter what."