Slade and Terra Drabble.
Cold steel and the thick musk of damp surrounded them,the husky cackle of maniacal laughter reverberated off the walls and bounced back to them, and she was silent – shaking with a rage he'd taught her, buried deep in a cavern far below the light of day. It was the lowest she'd ever been.
He remembered with clarity the look in her eyes. It was desolation, it was distance, and it was hollow. Almost like she'd been caught in some form of limbo, she looked straight through him, beyond him, at possibilities that she refused to face.
She couldn't meet his eye. He claimed what was left of her innocence, and she turned to rubble in his hands.
And though she was not happy, she belonged. She belonged.She belonged.