One word.

It's only ever one word.

In the night, while his body tosses and turns and tangles itself up in sheets, his mind is caught on one piece of that ever fleeting spiders web. Stuck on that one word. No matter how hard he tries, he can't free himself, and any time he's tried to forget, someone shouts it louder, howling like a madman.

He can't forget, he can't ever forget.

It ties him down, it binds in in place, and it's the one thing keeping him on the line of sanity and complete madness. It gives him piece, it gives him pain, and keeps his heart beating as it pierces his thoughts.

Each morning he awakes and faces the dawn alone, before peering down at the empty space beside him. Then, only for a moment does his mind play another game with him, as he seems to feel the arms around his neck, and a smaller body pressed against his back. Closing his eyes, Sebastian Moran leans back to hear that single horrible, wonderful word purred into his ear.

"Tiger."