A\N: Why has no one written about this yet?

Brother.

He is...my brother.

And he saved my life.

I walk through Venjix's palace, silent and brooding. I remember a poem I read once. I am she of the leaves, I am she of the sun. I am she of the tiniest wonders. The human who wrote that died, but how lucky she was to know herself.

I don't know myself at all.

I head to the rooftops. It comforts me. Funny, you'd think after falling I wouldn't be comforted by the sky, but the clouds are safe. They feel like a blanket, wrapping me up in fluffy cloud warmth. Ugly fluffy cloud warmth, and probably very dirty and wet...but still.

I sit with my back to the short concrete barrier jutting from the roof. I think it's supposed to keep you from falling, but in all honesty it's just there for some idiot to trip and fall off of. I snicker. I can actually see someone dumb enough to do that! Hey, maybe Mr. I-Like-To-Slick-My-Hair-Back. Seriously, who the hell does he think he is? Elvis?

I frown at the name. Elvis? Who was...oh, right. My parents listened to him. Said they liked 'oldies'. I smile. I like music. It messes with the sound around me, but it made a wonderful warm cocoon for me of beautiful sounds. And he slicked his hair back. Dillon kept telling me everything he saw.

I remember my hand in his. We protected each other--him from dangers to be seen, me from the unseen. I still remember walking into his bedroom at night and listening, making sure there were no monsters under the bed or in the closet.

I sigh and whistle.

The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell, high-ho-the-dari-o, the farmer in the dell.

My only song, my hunting song, my pretty song that makes me think of green hills and some sap in the middle of them. I sigh and shake my head. I'm getting really stupid, aren't I? I ought to go do something for a while. Read demotivational posters or the Darwin Awards. That always cheers me up, especially since I can recover old information when Venjix can't. I smirk. I love doing that.

I get up and head downstairs. Funny things, sleep, and I'll be back to my old self.

I spend an hour recovering data before I realize it just...isn't funny. I'm not laughing. I'm not plotting the downfall of the Rangers. I'm thinking of the music locket and of Dillon saving me.

He saved me without thinking.

Is that what family does? I know family isn't Venjix's court. I mean, look at what they did to me...

I look at my arm. The cut is scabbing.

I remember the feel of scabs under my fingertips. I scraped my knee a lot. I wanted to climb trees and run around like Dillon did, but I was blind. I ran into stuff. I laugh. Looking back, it was kind of funny. Dillon sure thought it was.

Dillon...

They took him away from me. I remember that pain. The prisoners they keep in the factories, they do the same thing to them. I can't help but feel a pang of guilt. I know how it feels now. I know it's not okay.

I can't keep doing this, can I?

I sigh and study my arm. Stay, and become a monster, because monsters are the ones who know what they're doing when they're assholes...or go, and find a family?

Well, when I put it that way.

I stand up. The hardest journey I'll ever make, the journey of a thousand steps.

But oddly enough, once I take the first, the ninety-nine aren't hard at all.