A/N: I am very aware that I have some facts wrong. I changed Daniel's family in this story because I wanted the older sister dynamic (and it made for a more sane story that she was alive as well). I'm also aware that the Shadow probably didn't permeate his home, as he most likely would have died if it cared to get that close to him. However, I'd like to think that, allowing for Daniel's faulty memory, I got most of his stay at Brennenburg correct. Feel free to point out inaccuracies, but I'd prefer that's not the only reason for your review. ;]

Disclaimer: I don't own the character Daniel or his history.


Return

Charlotte hadn't heard from him in months. It was true enough that she had never needed to survive without her brother - they'd lived together all their lives until he went off on that trip to Africa - but she could do perfectly well on her own. And she did. She was the oldest, after all. She maintained the house, found a job, and sustained herself. She was doing perfectly fine, thank you very much. She wasn't lonely at all. Hardly even missed him. So when he finally contacted her again and announced his prompt return, she most certainly didn't weep with joy or clean his room ten times in a row.

Daniel was only home for a few weeks after his trip to Africa. He seemed jumpy, and locked himself in his room for hours, poring over some artifact he'd brought with him. It was some kind of orb, shattered into pieces, but that was all she could get out of him.

It wasn't too long after his return that strange things started happening.

It started with strange noises, like howling, that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Daniel's dreams became darker and darker until Charlotte found herself calling for him to awake from violently shaking episodes. Soon enough, she would find strange red material, like mold, growing on the walls, pulsing and burning to the touch.

Daniel came into contact with someone but wouldn't give her any information. She felt left out and confused. He was obviously in some kind of trouble and she wanted to help him. He ignored her requests for information, and one day, he left.

He didn't tell her where he was going or how long he'd be gone. The day after he left, all the red mold disappeared from the house.

This time, he was gone for a whole year.

She had hoped for a swift return, but as the months passed, her hopes dwindled. She focused on her job, winked emptily at attractive men, and cried for her brother at night. She began to wonder if he was dead or maybe found some other life. She grew angry at him for never writing to her, then angry at herself for being angry at him because she might not know the whole story.

After a long year, she did find him.

She was on her way back home from work, passing through London's usual bustle, when she saw him and stopped short. He seemed a bit lost, gripping an old, grimy lantern in one hand. He was covered in dirt and grime, his hair long and unruly. If she hadn't lived with him all her life she might not have recognized him. The crowd gave him a wide birth, eyeing his rumpled, stained wardrobe - was that blood? - and as Charlotte grew closer, she noticed his old, dusty, sweaty, bloody smell.

"D-Daniel?" she stuttered, not believing her eyes.

He responded to his name, moving his gaze from the shops around him to her eyes. It was definitely him.

She dropped the basket she was holding and rushed over to him. "Daniel!" she exclaimed. "What on Earth happened to you?"

He flinched, staring at her. "Do... do I know you?"

His words paralyzed her. Her right hand was on his shoulder and her left had automatically cradled a huge bloodstain on his side. He didn't move her hands, just squinted at her as though trying to remember.

Something horrible had happened to him. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her throat was completely dry. She closed her mouth and swallowed, then finally said, "You need a bath. Come home."

He didn't argue - or say anything at all, for that matter. The walk home was eerily silent. She'd picked up her supplies and was carrying her basket in her right hand, holding Daniel's hand in her left, as though to keep him from leaving again.

Their house was large and made of red brick, and he looked it over as they arrived as though trying to place it. The same way he'd looked at Charlotte. She opened the door for him and he walked inside. She closed the door behind him and tried to relieve him of his lantern but he kept a firm grip on it.

"I need it," is all he said.

She shivered as she looked at his face. He was scared. "There's no reason to be afraid," she said, her voice tinged with worry.

"I know," he said determinedly, nodding. "There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. I know that."

But there was still something in his eyes.

She drew up a bath, and after much coaxing, she managed to get his clothes off of him. She'd seen her brother naked plenty of times before, so she wasn't uncomfortable at all, but he seemed to regard her warily.

A strange thing happened when she tried to get him into the tub. As soon as he spied it, he let out some kind of fearful shout and shouldered away from it. "I'm not going in there," he said plainly. "It'll get me. I know it will."

"What will get you?" Charlotte asked, eyes wide with concern.

"The water monster."

She paused for a moment. Once he was clean and comfortable and wearing dry clothes, she could talk to him about it. For now she just needed to clean him.

Foregoing the bath, she grabbed a washcloth and a pitcher and set to work on him. After a few moments, when he seemed to realize what she was doing, he took the washcloth and promised her he could handle this perfectly well himself.

She nodded and left the room, then realized she was shaking. It felt surreal. Daniel had left her without a word, and now he was back, and under such strange circumstances. She took the pile of grimy clothes from the floor and went to wash them.

She and Daniel had been a part of a lesser noble family, and it was a stroke of luck that they had managed to keep the house after their father squandered their fortune. Their parents were long since dead, but after his folly they couldn't afford servants. Charlotte had learned to wash all of the clothes, and in return Daniel had maintained the integrity of the building. Of course, she'd had to take over that, too.

Once she'd scrubbed his clothes as well as she could - what had he done with them? They were so horribly filthy - she put them out to dry and gathered an outfit that he'd left behind, then left it just inside the bathing room.

She was so nervous. She wanted to know everything about what he'd done for a year (not a single bloody letter), but she also wanted to cradle him like she used to when they were young, and she didn't want to scare him off.

She smoothed out her simple blue dress, shaking slightly. He didn't know who she was. She could see it in his eyes. He didn't recognize the house either. Something had happened to him and he'd lost all memory of her.

Soon enough, he came out, clean, and wearing the outfit she'd left for him. She noticed he'd cleaned the lantern as well, which was still in his left hand. She could see that his knuckles had gone white; he was gripping it like a lifeline.

Charlotte gestured at the table. She'd arranged a simple meal of bread and apples; if he was still hungry she could pull out some meat from storage. After an hesitation, he sat down at the table and placed his lantern next to his plate. He stared at the food in silence for a moment, then said, "I apologize. I'm being rude."

She shook her head. "You're not. Take all the time you need."

He looked at her. "You know me," he said. It wasn't a question.

Her eyes became blurry with tears. He really didn't remember her. "I do," she said. "You're my little brother."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You're...?" He swallowed and looked around at the house. "I didn't know I had a sister."

"We live here together," she said, then amended, "well, we used to. Before you left."

"Left," he said softly to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. "Of course I left."

"Pardon?"

He met her gaze again. "Oh, sorry. Nothing. It's just..." He hesitated. "The man I was before... I'd like to think I've changed. I'm sorry if I've done wrong by you."

She shook her head. "Never! You're an amazing brother, Daniel."

He seemed confused. "Really?"

"Of course!" Charlotte smiled. "I remember a few years ago, when Mark had scorned me and I came home in tears, you accepted me with open arms and wouldn't let me do a lick of work for the rest of the day."

Daniel smiled slightly. "I'm glad," he said. "I was afraid that... after all I've seen..." He shook his head. "That's all behind me now."

She tried to read into his eyes. He was still scared. She could see it there. She had the unsettling feeling that it would be there for the rest of his life. "Daniel," she said, pleading, and drew his gaze. "I'd like to know. You came home from Africa with nightmares and left without a word. It's been a year with no letters and now you've..." She felt her tears on her cheeks, her vision of Daniel cloudy.

Instinctively, he moved forward and knelt by her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright," he said. "That's all my fault. Everything is my fault. I never should have gone to Africa. I never should have found that damned Orb. I never should have left you."

She smiled. Even without his memory, he was still her brother. "Please tell me," she said quietly. "Everything."

He looked away. "I'm not sure I should. It's not a pretty story." He flinched and shut his eyes. "And I'd quite like to forget it."

Charlotte should let sleeping dogs lie. She felt that. She should just accept that her brother was back and try to get him on his feet again. But this whole business with the Orb, and he came back with blood on his clothes fearing a monster in his bathtub that's never been there before. In order to help him properly, as well as put her own mind to ease, she just had to know.

"I can handle it," she said. "I can help you."

He looked up into her eyes, and suddenly reminded her of when they were little and Daniel had fallen and scraped his knee. He was sitting and crying, cradling his bloody leg, pushing servants away. Charlotte had come up to him with a clean handkerchief, and they'd exchanged a long look, with young Daniel's eyes red and puffy. She'd knelt beside him and held his hand, then cleaned his knee and kissed it.

Now, at the table, she saw Daniel begin to cry. "Charlotte," he said.

She smiled back, her tears nearly blinding her. She held his hand in hers.

"I'll tell you," he said, after a moment of silence. "But... please... know that I've changed. Know that we're safe."

She looked into his eyes and said, "I think you need to remember that more than I do."


They brought their plates into the sitting-room. In order to make him more comfortable, Charlotte offered wine, but Daniel made a strange noise and refused it. They sat next to each other in front of a disused fireplace, a lit candle between them. Daniel had brought his lantern, which was sitting beside him on the floor, and he'd lit the candle so swiftly she could've sworn it was magic. She settled into her armchair and asked, "How much do you remember?"

He looked a bit on-edge, as though uncomfortable with relaxing. In fact, he looked like he hadn't relaxed in a long time. "Specifically, not much," he answered. "But I've managed to piece together some things, and... some things came back to me." He glanced at his hands.

Charlotte rose from her seat. "On the floor," she said. Confused, he obeyed her, sitting in front of his chair. She sat on it and began to rub his shoulders. "God, you're as tangled as a sailor's knot," she tutted. "Start from the beginning. We have all the time in the world."

"I guess, chronologically... Africa," he said. He turned around to face her. "Are you sure you want to hear this story? I don't think..."

"Of course I do," she said. "You're my brother and I want to help you."

He looked her over and smiled warmly, then turned around again. "I don't remember going to Africa... I don't really remember why I wanted to go there in the first place. I was on some expedition with a professor, who was looking for..." He paused. "I found diary entries I'd written. We found some tomb, apparently. I don't know how. I, uh... got trapped." He swallowed. "They opened a passage, and I was the first through, and the slab fell behind me. I don't know how long I was there, maybe an hour... apparently, I thought I was going to die. But then I found it."

Trapped. He hadn't mentioned that at all when he'd returned from Africa. Daniel didn't elaborate, so she prompted. "The orb?"

He flinched when she said it. "It was glowing blue, and I crawled toward it, and... when they pulled me out, I had the thing in shatters. I wouldn't let it go. I took it home and..." He looked back at her again. "I suppose you were there."

"You locked yourself in your room for ages."

"Yes. I... I was obsessing over the shattered thing. The pieces kept shifting and changing and wouldn't fit one another. I thought I was going mad. And then, the... the Shadow came."

"The what?" Charlotte asked, frightened of the way his voice had changed when he said it.

"The Shadow. It... it was following me. It's some kind of guardian. I think that's how I got into contact with Alexander. Or maybe he knew about the Orb... I... I can't remember. All I know is my experience with it. It covers things in this... this red meatlike, organic... something. It burns at the touch."

She gasped silently. "I remember that."

He turned around again. "It was here?"

"All over the house. I thought it was some kind of mold."

"That must have been why I left. If I had stayed, it would have..." he trailed off again.

Charlotte began rubbing his back. "So Alexander was that man you left to meet?"

He shuddered. "Must have been. Oh, God. I wish I'd never gone."

"Why's that?"

"I never should have trusted Alexander." He spat the name like a curse. "He's... he wasn't human, Charlotte. He was centuries old, and... well... I guess I didn't know that." He readjusted his seat on the floor. "He took me to live at his castle."

"His castle?"

"The Castle of Brennenburg, in Central Prussia," he said, closing his eyes. "I doubt I'll ever forget that."

"You were there all year?"

"I must've been. I never found out how long I was there, and I only remember a few days at the end. God," he said silently. "A whole year? How could I do that for a whole year?"

"Do what?"

He was silent for a while, then stood up and turned around to face her. "I've... if I could remember, I'm sure I could have justifications for you. I think that's why I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to pretend it was fine or, or that it was right. Or maybe I just wanted to die. I've... I've done some horrible things, Charlotte."

She looked up into his eyes, still frightened. She knew he was telling the truth. She steadied her own heart for a moment. "What things?"

He closed his mouth, then looked away. "I shouldn't tell you."

"I'm your sister, Daniel."

"All the more reason." He looked at her, eyes full of regret. "You have me in your head as this perfect brother. If I tell you..."

She stood up next to him. Though she was older by three years, he was taller by ten centimetres. She looked up at him and said, "Whatever it is, it can't be so horrible that I won't be able to forgive you."

"Yes, it can," he said. "I... I didn't find out until... I was already insane, so I might've made it all up, but..." He shook his head. "I know I didn't. It all really did happen."

She held him by the arm. "Daniel..."

"Charlotte," he said pleadingly, "If you love me, you'll never ask."

"I do love you," she insisted. "And that's exactly why I'm asking. You have to tell someone, Daniel."

He closed his eyes. "I... I tortured people."

The room was deathly silent. Her hands didn't leave his arm. "What do you mean?" she asked fearfully.

"I mean I..." He pulled his arm away from her. "I don't remember it, but I know what I did. Alexander convinced me that... and maybe he was right, but that doesn't..." He put a hand on his head. "He told me that the only thing I could do to keep the Shadow from destroying us was to collect this substance called Vitae. It's... I'm not sure I quite understand it, but it comes from humans when they're..." He grit his teeth. "When they're in horrible pain."

Charlotte discovered her hands pressing on her jaw as she listened. "You..."

"I must have been insane," he said. "The Shadow killed everyone I asked about the Orb. That must have been why I wouldn't tell you anything. The... I can't remember his name. The geologist I took it to. The professor. And the others. I don't know how many others. They're all dead because of me. Then Alexander took me in. I don't know how long I was at the castle before it started. They were all... murderers and rapists and... I must have found solace in that. I..." He looked at his hands again. "I've seen such horrible things and I was the cause of all of them."

Charlotte took one of his hands in hers. "Just keep talking, Daniel," she said, and her voice sounded more hoarse than his.

"I shouldn't try to remember the torture. That's why I took it... because I knew I would be better if I couldn't remember. I would be more able." He laughed dryly. "Less insane."

"Took what?"

He looked down at her. "In order to keep the Vitae output at its maximum, each prisoner was given an Amnesia Drink afterwards. So the pain and terror would always be fresh. So they couldn't remember."

"You... drank it?"

Daniel averted his eyes. "On purpose. I must have realized what I was doing. I wrote a note to myself. All it said was that..." He took a deep breath. "I needed to kill Alexander."

The way he said kill sent a shock straight through Charlotte's heart. She looked at his face, which was staring at the fireplace, a strange mix of fright and hatred. "You should sit down," she whispered. She pushed him slightly toward her chair, because he was closest to it, but he instinctively went to the other. When he sat down, she saw his left hand fall inches away from the lantern he'd placed on the ground.

She sat across from him again. "This sounds like horror fiction," she said.

"Funny," he said seriously. "It felt like hell."

She swallowed. "Please continue."

"All I could remember was that my name was Daniel and I lived in Mayfair. I knew nothing of the Castle of Brennenburg or even why I would want to kill Alexander. I woke up next to the front doors but they wouldn't open. My only option was to go down."

"Down?"

"He was in the Inner Sanctum. A ritual room miles below ground." He shuddered. "The darkness, it... I couldn't..." He closed his eyes and she saw his hand close around the lantern's handle. "I don't know what happened to me over the past year that made me so terrified of darkness. I couldn't handle it. But if I stood in the light, they could've seen me."

She looked at him. "You were always a little scared of the dark."

He met her eyes with some kind of dark sarcasm. "There were..." he swallowed. "Things in that castle. Horrible, tall things that walk with a limp but they could move so fast." He shook his head. "I would say they were only hallucinations but they hurt me. They clawed me. And at one point they knocked me out and kidnapped me. And the thing in the water... I never could see it."

She wouldn't have believed him if she couldn't see his face. "Why would Alexander fill his castle with monsters?"

"They were servants," he answered. His hand was still on the lantern, and he didn't seem to notice. "They kidnapped victims for him. I don't know where they came from. I can only suppose they used to be men, melted and burned and mutilated. They made horrifying noises and patrolled the entire castle. There was absolutely no way to fight them; all I could do was hide."

"Did you ever find Alexander?"

"Unfortunately," he said, frowning. "By then, I'd found out everything. You wouldn't believe the things they had in the torture chambers. Horrific devices. And some of them..." He shuddered and closed his eyes. "I could almost hear their screams."

For a moment, Charlotte thought he was going to continue, but he flinched, his eyes still closed, and she saw tears reappearing on his cheek. She made her way to him as he began shaking, so violently he reminded her of when he was back from Africa and plagued with dreams. She put one hand on his left arm and one on his chest. "They're gone, Daniel. I'm here."

He opened his eyes. They were red and wet and full of fear. Unable to stop herself, she engulfed him in a hug.

"I told you not to ask," he whispered.

"And I told you not to stop talking," she whispered back. "What happened next?"

He was silent for a long moment. "Alexander was trying to create some sort of portal," he said finally. Neither of them let go, nor even thought of letting go. "I told you he wasn't human. He was trying to go to a different world. I didn't know what I was doing. All I knew was that he couldn't get away with what he'd done. What he'd turned me into."

"What did you do?"

"I destroyed the portal. I ruined his final chance for salvation. And I stood back and let the Shadow take him."

"Then... you did it? You killed him?" Her voice hitched slightly on the word 'killed'.

He pushed her away and looked into her eyes. "I know what I did. My sins were burned away by hellfire. I've repented for all that I've done. And now I have to forget."

She put her hand on his chin. "As much as you'd like to, I don't think you can forget," she said softly. "If you had more of that damned Amnesia Drink I'd smash it to the floor. If you've been through horrible things, I can help you shoulder them. But memories are what make a person."

He looked at the floor. "If only you were there for me before I drank it," he sighed miserably. "The only memories I have are at Brennenburg. My whole life is a nightmare because the good pieces have been erased."

"I can help you get them back," she promised.

Daniel met her gaze, looking deep into her eyes. "All you want is to help me," he said, curiously. "You haven't heard from me in a year. I left you behind. I've killed people. You have every right to be angry with me. Why do you still want to help me?"

Her eyes wetted again as she looked into his lost, fearful face. "I'm your big sister," she said, as though that was the only answer he needed.

He smiled. His smile was so genuine, so filled with relief, love, and trust, that she embraced him again and never wanted to let him go.