Roman spat out a mouthful of blood and looked up at her. Destiny saw no emotion in his eyes, no trace of Peter's best friend. In that moment, he was more upir than she had ever seen him before. It took her only a split-second to realize that she'd made a terrible mistake. She saw the fatal coming as if in slow motion, but she was frozen, unable to move, trapped in a nightmare. She tasted the cold copper of blood in the back of her throat even before her head impacted painfully on the glass table. Destiny felt, with perfect clarity, the agony of a thousand tiny glass fragments embedding themselves in her skull. Dazed, she felt Roman's soft touch on her face. In spite of what had just happened, it took her completely by surprise when he suddenly snapped her head to the side. After that, there was only darkness.

Destiny stared at the flames in the small pot for a long time. Even after the fire had long burned down, she still sat frozen in her chair. She had seen pretty violent visions before. She had seen many things which she was unable to accept as truth at the time. But this? Roman killing her? It seemed such a fantastical notion that she could not wrap her head around it.

Sure, she had always known that upirs were dangerous and could not be trusted. Yet, this one had proven time and again that he cared deeply for Peter, that he strived to be better than his nature. Destiny could not match her image of Roman with what she had just seen.

Slowly, the conversation preceding Roman's actions came back to her. Tears ran down her face as she thought about the extent of Peter's betrayal. It was as if she had lost Andreas and Peter both. There was no comfort left for her.

Peter stood in front of the door to Destiny's apartment, bracing himself for what he knew had to happen next. After finding his courage, he opened the door and called out softly, "Destiny?". Only silence greeted him. Then, he saw Destiny sitting at the table, staring at a small bowl, deep in thought.

He could see that she had been crying again and a stab of guilt tore at his heart, weakening his resolve to come clean with her. Peter approached her slowly, fighting the urge to bolt from the room every step of the way. Deep down, he knew that it was only a matter of time. She was curious and stubborn by nature and he knew that she would not let it go. Running away now would only postpone the inevitable, yet his mind continued to scream at him to just get the hell out of there and think up a better story than the truth.

He stopped a few steps away from her, filled with indecision. After what seemed like a small eternity, Destiny looked up at him. Peter drew in a sharp breath. The hurt in her eyes ran deep and cut him to the bone. He dropped to his knees and the words just starting pouring out from him in a rush.

After a long time, he realized that he had finished telling his story at some point and was just repeating, "I am sorry. I am so sorry. Please forgive." over and over. He also realized with a start that Destiny had put her hands on his head and leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching. Peter stopped talking and they just sat there together, sobbing.

It seemed like hours later to Destiny when she came slowly back to herself and looked around. Somehow, they had ended up cowering on the floor together. Suddenly the memory of Roman, spitting out blood and looking at her with murder in his eyes was very clear in her mind. She pulled back a little and caught Peter's eye.

"You have to go to Roman. He needs your help. Badly."

Peter, exhausted from the release of his pent-up emotions, wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly.

"What?"

"You need to help Roman."

"I ... with what? Where is this even coming from?"

"Trust me. You have to go to him before it's too late."

Peter was drowsy and felt more like having a good night's sleep than a heart-to-heart with an upir. He was about to say so when the look in Destiny's eyes stopped him short. He realized that he didn't stand a chance. With a deep sigh, he got up and walked to the door. He already had the handle in hand when he remembered that he still didn't have the faintest idea what this was about.

"Help him with what?"

"Help him remember who he is."

Peter waited but it seemed that cryptic statement was all she had to say on the topic. With a shrug, he went on his way.