With a sudden gasp for air and a jolt upright, consciousness was thrust upon the unwilling. Bright green eyes darted around the dimly lit room in a mad attempt to identify five familiar things. A ritual she had unfortunately grown accustomed to.

The nearly tattered old book on her nightstand … An even older journal shoved haphazardly under a pile of otherwise forgotten papers … A laptop still opened to an email box … A time bleached bracelet resting on the nightstand nearer to the clock … A worn leather jacket displayed on the back of her desk chair.

With a sigh of relief and a new sense of grounding, she sank back into the sheets and took a few steadying breaths.

It was always the same dream. Always. For the past 7 years, Roxanne Lauffer dreamed the same dream. Losing someone she loved, feeling helpless, unable to scream. Sure, the faces would change. Locations rarely stayed consistent, and methods changed. She'd had nightmares for so many years, it hardly scared her anymore. It was all too normal by now. Sometimes it would circulate, and she'd dream of other things, but it was never anything new, and it was never anything pleasant.

She hated to go to sleep. She wasn't sure why she was even surprised anymore that she always woke feeling tense. It wasn't like her life had been apple pie and cupcakes up to this point. Why should it start getting better now? Some foolish notion of hope that maybe her luck would turn around sometime. Maybe soon. Maybe later. She wanted to keep hoping, but it grew harder with every passing day. All too frequently she was proven wrong, and yet she still managed to convince herself it wouldn't last forever.

Lately, however, her optimism was beginning to wane.

There were happy times. She knew that much. She knew it because she had kept her journal from her childhood. The proof was right there in those pages. She used to be happy. Then, one day, for no particular reason, the happiness stopped. No matter how hard she tried to remember, or how carefully she read her own words, she couldn't make sense of it. How fast everything could change. How out of nowhere things could take a turn for the worse. How someone she trusted could turn on her.

Nonetheless, she didn't let it traumatize her. Well, at least she tried. She wanted to be normal. She wanted a normal life. She wanted to have friends, to fall in love, to be able to live happily.

One step at a time was all she needed. It was all she could do, really. It was all she could do not to recoil from the world and lock herself away with her books.

Especially today. Talking to her mother for the first time in three years wasn't how she expected to spend her Saturday morning. It was a stroke of luck, at least, that her mother had enough empathy to make the seven hour drive to visit her. It was a surprise, to say the least. Roxy would have been lying if she said she expected her mother to knock on her door. But at least she wasn't expected to go home. She wasn't sure she could bear to set foot in her hometown again.

"How's Jericho?" Candace didn't even try to hide the lack of real interest she had in Roxy's love life. It made her feel like her stomach had dropped down to her knees. It was going to be one of those visits, wasn't it?

"Mom, you know I haven't heard from him in years. What's this ab-"

"How's school going?"

"Mom, you called me, remember? You said you had bad news. Now, are you stalling? Or are you going to tell me why you dragged me away from school in the middle of the semester?" It was clear she was starting to get aggravated, but she couldn't bring herself to yell at her mother.

"Have you heard from Jace?" Oh no. It must really be bad if she was stalling this much. "I tried calling him. I wanted him to be here when I told you. Both of you need to know." Candace fiddled with the coffee she hadn't yet touched. That was a bad sign indeed. "Do you think he's doing alright? I heard he dropped out of college again. He won't answer my calls."

"Mom, he's fine. You know how he is. He gets an idea in his head and he goes with it. I talked to him last week. He's fine. Now please. What did you call me for?"

"I really hope he got my message. I'd love to have you two back home together for a while. Even a week. It wouldn't kill you, would it?"

This was starting to give her a headache. What kind of horrible news was her mother going to drop on her? "Candace Anne Lauffer, do you want me to burst a blood vessel? Tell me!"

Candace gave her daughter a rare, heartbroken look. Roxy watched as her mother's gaze dropped to the table, watching her fingers fiddle idly with her half eaten scone. Just as Roxy began to think it was her fault, Momma Lauffer finally spoke.

"It's about your father."

There it was. Roxy sighed and rolled her eyes. This wasn't the first time her Candace had come running to her because of her father. She braced herself for whatever might be said next. "And?"

"He stopped drinking about three months ago."

Well, that certainly wasn't what she expected. Roxy's brows shot up. She had never known her father to go an hour without a drink in hand. "And?"

"A couple of weeks ago, he went through our photo albums. He looked at all of the pictures of you and Jace. He wanted me to tell you both how sorry he was for everything he did."

For the first time, hope and her father shared the same breath. She did have distant memories of her father smiling, and had begun to write them all off as a dream. "And?"

"And he killed himself."

Three simple words, and suddenly a flood of emotions washed over her. She sat in stunned silence for a moment, trying to let it sink in. The surprise wore off quickly. She found she didn't feel upset. Roxy chewed the inside of her lip for a moment before giving her mother a look.

"…And?"

"Roxy, dammit, he was your father. I know he wasn't perfect, but…"

"But what? I left home for good reason!" Given the news, Roxy was surprised she felt so little. She had long since accepted that her father didn't want to be her father anymore, and she was doing her best to move on with her life. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to cry and sob into your shoulder, whining about how I wish I had one more day with him so I can tell him I'm sorry for running away like I did? Mom, it's not going to happen."

"I know what he was like! But you have to believe, he wasn't always like that! Roxy, he was a good man. He loved you and Jace. He-"

"He had a funny fucking way of showing it!"

Candace fell silent. In the back of her head, she knew she should have known better when she came all this way with this kind of news. Maybe she thought it would give Roxy some sense of closure. That the pain was over. That she could really move on now. She didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't this.

Roxy stood up and ran her fingers through her hair. Part of her wanted to apologize for snapping like she did, but there would be no good that came from it. All she could hope for was that her mother would smile again. With a sigh, she leaned down to hug her mother.

"Mom, I'm sorry. You knew him in better days, but I didn't. I can't love a man for what he used to be. I can only know him for what he was. The man I knew was impossible to love, and I'm sorry. But I can't forgive him for what he did just because he's not breathing anymore."

She breathed a small sigh of relief when she felt her mother's arms close around her. For everything she avoided in talking to her mother, she was never gladder to have her there. In some way, there was a weird sense of closure. The healing could begin. Her grieving was already over, but she could help her mother, just like she had always done.

"I'll tell Jace. He drops by sometimes to mooch off of Billie and I. I'll tell him for you. Go home and do what you need to." She pulled back a little so she could look her mother in the eye. "I promise I'll come home soon. I'll introduce you to Billie. We'll make a weekend of it. Just…. Take care of yourself. Alright?"

Candace nodded and managed a smile. It wasn't a genuine smile, and she knew her daughter would know that, but it was a smile enough.

Jericho Warin was one of Roxy's only childhood friends. More importantly, he was the one she'd had a crush on all through high school. Looking back, she should have told him, but there was pain enough in her life that she just couldn't bring herself to go through one more heartache.

Lately, she hadn't heard from him. Like, at all. She wasn't entirely sure why he dropped off the face of the Earth, but still she sent emails to his old accounts. She wanted to keep him up to date about her life in hopes that he might reply to her one day.

She really saw no reason not to at least check to see if he emailed her back. After all, no news was good news, right?

With a sigh, she shuffled her way to her desk and opened up her laptop. Within a few keystrokes, she was scrolling through her email box, scouring desperately for any unread messages that matched Jer's old high school email address. Of course, she found nothing, but that was hardly the worst thing that had happened to her today.

She bit her lip and awkwardly flexed her hands, struggling to decide whether or not to send him yet another email. That little voice in the back of her head told her he wasn't replying because he was tired of hearing from her. That he would rather her remain out of his life. But it wasn't quite enough to dissuade her from trying. The worst that could happen was she didn't hear back from him. Again. It was a disappointment she was used to, and therefore gave her nothing left to lose.

Hey, Jer. I hope things are going well for you. I'm really starting to miss you.

I've got some good news and bad news. Bad news is, my mom told me my dad killed himself. The good news, I guess, is that I don't have to worry about him kicking down my door anymore to-

She stopped right there and shook her head. No, she wasn't going to worry him. On the off chance he was reading her messages, she didn't want him to worry too much about her. She deleted the last sentence.

The good news, I guess, is that …. Well, I guess it's all a matter of perspective. My mom's kind of taking it hard, but I don't really think I feel much. Unless it just hasn't sunk in yet that he's dead. Kind of hard to tell. But at least that's one less Christmas card to write, right?

I hope you still check this account. I don't even want to think about how many messages I've sent you. I just miss you. I'd love to hear from you sometime.

There was a time that she would write a wall of text to tell him everything. The best news and the worst. Billie used to tease her about writing a novel every day to try to keep in touch with an old friend. These days, however, the teasing had stopped, and the emails got shorter. It was hard for Billie to watch Roxy lose hope, but it was admirable that she kept trying. Honestly, it was one of the last constants Roxy had to cling to. It was something to hope for, and she wasn't about to give that up.

Roxy clicked "send" and ran her fingers through her hair. "10 years. It's been 10 years since I've heard from him. If I didn't know better, I'd say he wasn't getting my emails." As soon as she said it, she decided to switch gears. No, if she started getting upset about things now, it might come across as though it was because her father died. And that just simply wasn't right. Instead of following that train of thought, she got up and flopped on her bed

With a sign, she opened up the first page of Good Omens. "It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn't been invented yet. But clouds massing east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one."

For once, she welcomed sleep. And for once, she had a pleasant dream.

Jace showed up exactly how Roxy expected him to. In his beaten up car, hungover from the previous night of binge drinking, and with that stupid shit eating grin that didn't even need to ask for money anymore. More of the same, from the last 7 years or so. To someone else, it might have been annoying to see their brother waste their life away. But to Roxy? It was a pleasant reminder that her brother was alive.

They exchanged pleasantries, she offered a couch for Jace to stay on, Jace assured them that he had a place to stay, and Roxy knew he'd be sleeping in his car.

By the time they made it to the bar for drinks, Roxy had rehearsed the news in her head at least 749 times. The more she thought about it, the less sure she was that Jace would take the news of their father's death with anything less than grace.

But when she managed to vomit the words out, all she got in response was dumb silence.

It was difficult for Jace to process this news. On the one hand, he felt relief that their father wasn't in the world anymore. He knew he lived in constant fear of being tracked down and "disciplined" for his lifestyle choice, and he knew Roxy lived in the same quiet fear. But on the other hand … suicide? It didn't really add up.

There was a mutual, idle thought between brother and sister that this was all some kind of sick test. To see how they reacted. That their father wasn't really dead. That he was just watching to see if they'd clean up their respective acts.

"So …" It had seemed like an eternity of silence before Jace finally spoke. "Dad's dead? Like, really dead?"

"Apparently," Roxy said, lazily swishing the whiskey in her glass. "I mean, mom wouldn't lie about something like that, right?"

Jace scoffed. It had always been easier for him to cope with their dysfunctional family life, because it was all he had known. He didn't remember a time when their home wasn't a warzone. "It wouldn't be the first time she's lied on dad's behalf, Rox. You know that."

"Yeah, but this is major." She looked at her brother, an air of patience trying to settle itself in her eyes. "Mom might lie about his drinking or his intentions, or god knows what else, but why the hell should she lie about his death? It just doesn't make sense."

"Neither does knowing he killed himself." Jace had a point, and Roxy knew it. "Seriously. The man got his jollies making our lives miserable. You can't tell me he wouldn't pull this kind of stunt just to fuck with us."

"You're right. I can't. But you know what? I'd be kind of glad to take the chance that he's really dead," his sister hissed. "Jace, for fuck's sake, why can't you just accept that this might be a good thing?"

"Because when has any news about dad ever been a good thing?" He set down his glass and leaned across the table toward Roxy. "Do you remember the time he slapped you around for getting into an argument at school? And he turned around and slapped you around some more because he found out you were just trying to protect me?"

"No, I had forgotten about it entirely. Why don't you talk about it some more?" She was falling back on sarcasm to avoid the inevitable wave of anger that always seemed to hit her when she thought about everything her father had done to her. "Do you want to bring up my trips to the hospital, too?"

"My point is, the man never did one thing in his entire life for the benefit of someone else. Hell, the mere thought of selflessness made him itch. Doesn't it seem weird that he would commit suicide out of nowhere? Especially if it was because he regretted what he did to us, like mom said?"

"Maybe he got tired of hearing shit about you," she snarled. "Maybe he was so tired of mom telling him that you're homeless, unemployed, living out of your car, and constantly asking your sister for money. Maybe he got so angry he killed himself just so he wouldn't have to hear about it!"

The rest of the evening was uncomfortably quiet – save for the suggestion they visit their father's grave for a bit of closure – and the next morning saw the Lauffer siblings piling into the elder's car, and they pointed their car in the direction of South Dakota. After all, Roxy promised she'd visit her mom. No time like the present.

The trip there was almost enjoyable. Despite all of the crap the two would dish out toward each other, they were still family. It was unclear why it took them making an impromptu road trip to bring out the best in each other, but if that was what it took…

Jokes were traded back and forth like they used to trade Pokémon cards when they were little. It wasn't long before Jace rolled down the window and placed a cigarette between his lips. He pulled out the ashtray and smiled at what he saw. Roxy didn't see him pick it up. "Rox, is this what I think it is?"

At a glance, Roxy blushed. Her little brother was holding up an old tic tac box they'd drawn on to pretend it was a CB radio. For all the talk she did of moving on from the past, she certainly romanticized a lot of her childhood. The important parts, anyway. "What? I gotta keep it around in case my brother needs me!"

Jace laughed more heartily than he had in years. Of course his sister had gotten sappy. It would have been hilarious if it wasn't so endearingly sweet. It was something he envied about her. She had borne the brunt of the pains of the past, and here she was. Clinging to the happiness instead of dwelling on the darkness. "I thought I ran over this when I was learning to drive."

"No, that was the cat." Roxy snickered. It shouldn't have been funny, but it kind of was. "Mom was so panicked. I mean, after I ran over the mailbox trying to parallel park, you'd think she'd reconcile that her children were fucking idiots."

The two smiled and laughed before they fell into another uncomfortable silence.

"Jace, I wish you could remember some of the better times." She shifted in her seat, sparing a moment to look at him. "One of these days, remind me to let you look at my journals. I swear to god, there were happy days."

"Rox, you really need to let it go." The laughter was gone from his voice. He had long since accepted that his life was miserable. It almost felt like knowing her life had been better would have made it all feel worse. He just didn't have the heart to tell her. All the years of watching her fight to defend him? He owed her that much. "Really. It's fine. I don't mind not knowing."

Another silence fell, and it lasted until they hit Chicago. Neither of them wanted to be the first person to speak. Their childhood was such as sensitive subject for each of them, they didn't want to run the risk of triggering an argument, or something worse.

That night was spent in a quiet motel on the outer edge of the west side of Chicago, and they hit the road again early the next morning. Before long, the silence was broken yet again by reminiscing and jokes. They hardly noticed when they reached their own sleepy little hometown of Hazel. In fact, it didn't really hit Roxy until she found herself on Outset Drive.

Her car coasted to a stop, her childhood home creeping up over the top of the hill. Jace wouldn't bring attention to it, but he noticed how she went out of her way to avoid driving past it.

She was very conscious of it. She knew she didn't want to go anywhere near that house. She just couldn't bring herself to darken that doorstep again, even after all these years. Instead, she offered her little brother a smile and turned toward one of their frequent stops. "How about we stop at Cheezus Crust?"

The look of pure, unadulterated joy on her brother's face instantly wiped away any anxiety she might have had about being so close to home. A couple of turns later, they pulled into the familiar parking lot and bounced out of the car.

The second they walked through the door, they were greeted by a voice they knew all too well.

"Holy shit! Roxy?"

The redhead looked around and finally saw the source of the voice. The brightest smile stretched across her face. "DAVE!"

She ran over to her old friend and threw her arms around him, practically leaping into his arms in excitement. Of all people she thought she could expect to see, he was last on the list. "You haven't changed a bit!" She grinned and pulled back to get a better look at him. Well, she was talking out of her ass, but she wasn't wrong. He looked exactly the same as when she last saw him. Purple hair and all.

Dave grinned his toothiest grin and mussed up her hair. He kind of wished he could say the same about her. She didn't look older, per se, but life certainly didn't look like it had been easy for her. "Look at you! All freckles and curls. Just like I remember you." He shifted his bright eyes to look at Jace. Now he had definitely aged a bit. That was curious. "How's it hangin', nerd?"

"Up yours, Violet." Jace grinned and squeaked (much to his displeasure) in surprise when he was pulled into a bear hug. Dave laughed and picked him up off his feet and wiggled him around. "How the hell are you?"

Roxy snickered at the display before her before turning to Dave again. "How about you treat us to pizza and I'll tell you!"

"Extorting me out of pizza again?" He laughed and set Jace down. "Alright, fine. But only because I like you."

The siblings took a seat and chatted about how much they missed this place, reminiscing about how they'd sneak away from home to get a good pizza and hang out with Dave. Seriously, though. It was weird that he didn't look a day older, no matter how many years had passed. However weird it was, they decided they really didn't care. It was nice to see a friendly face in a place like this.

When Dave took his seat next to them, setting the pizza down as though it were a feast for the gods, he took his uniform hat off and twirled it around his finger. "So, tell me. What have you two been up to since you skipped town? Roxy looks good." He looked teasingly at the younger brother. "You, not so much."

Jace rolled his eyes. Roxy laughed. She took a bite of pizza (how thoughtful of him to remember their usual order) and leaned back. "Well, I got into Yale!" Whatever Dave was expecting, it wasn't that. "I'm working on my Master's degree in anthropology, I've already qualified for an internship at the Smithsonian, and-"

"Tell him about the cryptozoology class," Jace teased. Roxy leaned over and smacked him upside the head, making a face at him. "What?" He looked at Dave and smirked. "She signed up for a cryptozoology class and a course in 'The Anthropology of Magic, Witchcraft, and Religion'."

It was Roxy's turn to roll her eyes. "The cryptozoology class is a total joke!" She side-eyed Dave and chuckled. "It's amazing how many people actually believe in Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster."

Dave chuckled almost awkwardly and grinned with the side of his mouth. "I can imagine. People are crazy."

Roxy nodded in agreement and took another bite of pizza.

"I heard about your dad."

And then Roxy could swear she now knew what pizza felt like going up her nose. She had really hoped he wouldn't bring that up, but here he was. And there she was, wondering if she was going to have to pull melted cheese out through her nostril. "Yeah … I heard too." She abandoned her pizza in favor of trying to wash down whatever pepperoni debris lodged itself in her throat.

"We're not sure if we buy it," Jace chimed in.

Dave looked a little confused, but he knew well what their father had done. They never told him, but he could tell. He offered a consoling smile. "Look, with all due respect, your father was a grade-A douche nozzle. But he was your dad. If you need to mourn-"

Roxy's fist clenched and Jace knew his sister well enough to know what she'd do. He grabbed her fist and tried to pass it off as a comforting hand-holding. "We're fine. Really." He offered Dave a smile and held onto his sister for dear life. The last thing they needed was to punch the shit out of the only friend they could go to in their times of need.

Dave must have sensed what was about to happen because he stopped dead in his tracks. Well, Roxy certainly hadn't changed that much. He ran a hand through his purple hair and thought for a moment. "Alright, seriously. If you didn't really believe he was dead, why did you come back? Both of you just disappeared as soon as you graduated high school, so why come back now?"

Jace muttered, "I think Roxy needs the closure, even if she won't admit it."

"I won't admit it because I don't need it." She looked at her brother like he'd betrayed her. "For fuck's sake, I did my mourning years ago. The man might have just died, but my father died when I was 7."

"But that doesn't mean you don't need closure." Their friend always seemed to know what it was they needed, even if they didn't agree with him. "How about this. I know where they buried him." He visited the grave to make sure the bastard was dead, too. "I'll take you to his grave and you can not-mourn all you like there. Alright?"

Roxy bit her lip, reluctant to agree she might actually need to see her father's grave, but nodded all the same. She was far too proud to say it out loud, but part of her really did need closure. The part of her that had feared for her safety and the safety of everyone around her needed to be put at ease.

With that, Dave boxed up their pizza so they could take it with them, they stopped by their car, and started the walk to the cemetery. Dave did his best to tell them stories of what all had happened since they left, in an effort to keep them smiling. If there was one thing he hated, it was seeing those two looking anything less than happy.

Before they knew it, Dave slowed to a stop and slid his hands into his pockets. His eyes were on a singled out gravestone. The only one with no flowers.

Luke Lauffer – January 23, 1948 – July 17, 2006 – Loving father and husband.

Roxy stared in disbelief. He really was dead? She could feel Jace put an arm around her and instinctively leaned into his embrace. Their father was dead. She hadn't spoken to the man in 10 years, and she was months late in visiting his grave.

Wait. Her mother waited this long to tell her about her father's death? Why? What happened? That didn't make sense. He killed himself. What mystery was there about that? Why the secrecy? Why wait so long?

Jace wasn't sure what he felt. There was confusion and hurt, definitely, but an unfortunate sense of relief at the same time. Still, he felt … bad. It had been so long since he'd so much as called his dad, he kind of wished he'd had a chance to say goodbye.

Just as he was about to ask Roxy how she was feeling, she laughed.

There were many ways she could possibly cope with this, but laughter was not expected. There were tears in her eyes and a smile stretched across her face. She could hardly help herself. She threw her arms up in the air in celebration. Ten years of living in fear could finally be over. She could move on. He couldn't hurt her anymore. More importantly, she never had to worry about him hurting her brother or her mother ever again. And she could focus on the life ahead of her with Billie. For once, she could look forward to the future.

Jace and Dave watched and she practically danced on her father's grave, both wondering if this was supposed to be normal.

Just as they were about to reconcile that perhaps this was a healthy way for Roxy to cope, she surprised them once again.

Roxy's foot collided with the thick marble marker. Her relief gave away quickly to anger. Dammit, why couldn't he have given them a heads up? A suicide note? A call? Anything would have been nice. But no. Of course he couldn't make life easier on them.

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed. The boys weren't sure what to do, and she didn't seem to care. She kicked the grave a few more times, only vaguely aware of the pain starting to radiate in her foot. "You fucking quit? Just like that? You piece of shit! If I gave up like this, you'd have torn me a new one! What makes you so different? What makes you so special?"

She kicked at the dirt, as though her father would feel it six feet below. Dave and Jace exchanged glances, both reluctant to try to snap her out of her fit. This was years of anger finally working its way out of her system. They were loath to put a stop to it.

The tantrum went on. Words began to fail her, and she resorted to screaming and kicking. It wasn't fair. Even up to the end, he had them skeptical. It was like he wanted them to live in perpetual fear of him. To the point that they'd think even his death was a test. It was right. It wasn't fair. Who the hell was he to assume that kind of control over their lives?

Roxy's emotional reserves drained quickly. She was tired. She was so tired of letting that man control her life. Even in death, he made her afraid of him. When she had no more fight in her, she let herself fall to her knees, sobbing softly.

She wasn't in mourning for the man that had died. She was angry that he would never see how wrong he was about her. He would never know how hard she fought to prove him wrong. After twenty years of being called a failure, she had everything she needed to prove that he couldn't control her, and now she'd never know the satisfaction of throwing it in his face.

Jace sat on the ground next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. He had no idea what to say to her. He'd never seen her like this. She had tried to be so strong for him and their mother, he had no idea what it looked like to see his sister cry.

"Rox, are you okay?"

She shook her head and steeled herself against the tears. "I'm fine," she lied. "Let's go home."

Dave helped them up and pulled Roxy into another hug. He knew better than to try to convince her it was okay to cry. In all the years he'd known her, he'd only seen her cry one other time. "Take care of yourself, alright? And keep in touch. I worry about you."

Roxy managed a smile and hugged her friend back. "I will. I promise."

They got up to leave and Roxy hesitated for just a moment. She saw a red feather fall just in front of her father's grave, but there didn't seem to be any birds around. And why did it smell like rotten eggs?

It was not the day to wonder about things like that, she decided. She was distraught. She'd talk to her doctor about it at the first opportunity.

When they got back to the car, a thought dawned on her, and she called after Dave. "Hey! Have you heard from Jericho lately?"

Dave stopped, surprised to hear that name again. He looked a little sadder than Roxy might have expected, but answered the way she could have predicted. "No. Not since just after you left. He just decided to leave one day."

Roxy's heart sank and she thanked him. They promised they'd let each other know as soon as either of them had heard from Jer, but they really weren't optimistic about it.

The siblings slid into the car and sat in silence almost the entire two-day drive back home.

Jace said his goodbyes, asked Roxy to keep in touch with him, and took off in his own direction.

Roxy retired to her apartment. She had never been happier to shuffle through the door. She stretched and laid herself on her own bed.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she felt hands grab her. Something slammed against her head.

And everything went dark.

Roxy had never considered herself special. She wasn't smarter, faster, or stronger than anyone else. She wasn't born into a rich family or a wealthy neighborhood. Her hometown had less than 100 people in it. Her family had no known qualifiers. In fact, everything was rather extraordinary in their innate ordinariness. In this respect, she was right. She wasn't special. But she was brave. Braver than most.

She wasn't always that way, though. She remembered the day like it was yesterday.

She used to be happy. She had a few happy memories of her childhood. Not many, but a few. The most powerful of which, being the last time her parents took her to the state fair. Jace was no more than an infant, and her parents still had life and love in their eyes. Her father had given her a ring. Red cut glass in the shape of an ember. Nothing spectacular, but it was the world to her. Her mother helped her win a carnival game and she took a small stuffed fox home, which she has since reconciled may be gone forever.

Her father took her home, tucked her in, and sang "Sweet Child O' Mine" to her, as he did every night.

Then, one day, for no particular reason, Luke Lauffer laid his first hand on his wife.

Roxy was too young to understand why her father would hit her mother, and she was scared. She was terrified. For weeks, she would watch in terror. Every night, the house would turn into a warzone. Yelling, broken bottles, tears, and blood. It had gotten to the unfortunate point that she would barricade herself in her room and hide with her baby brother. Every time, Jace would cry, and Roxy would sing her father's lullaby to him.

She wasn't sure what possessed her to do it, but one day, she was tired of seeing her mother cry. She called her own father a bully and placed herself between him and her mother. It was agonizing, watching the wheels turn in his head. It was only for a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours that Roxy, no more than 6, watched her father contemplate this new development.

The sharp pain she felt on the side of her head meant her life would never be the same. She was taken aback. Her father cared more about causing pain than he cared about keeping his family together. She was far too young to deal with that harsh reality, but dealt with it she did. If she was going to be forced to grow up before her time, so much the better. Her mother had taught her to never let bullies win, and she was certain she never would.

She never let him lay a hand on her mother or brother again. Not because she was particularly unafraid, but because she cared too much. The thought of seeing others in pain terrified her far more than her father did. The merest concept of sitting back and letting someone suffer while she could have intervened simply didn't sit well with her, and she resolved never to let it happen.

But then, the beatings came with no provocation. Sometimes he would claim she acted up in school. Other times, she was just left to wonder. And wonder she did. She tried so hard to be good. To do her best. It was never enough. She came to realize it would never be enough.

Eventually, she had started to act up in school. She started fights with kids that picked on her brother. She lost all of her friends. Except Jericho, she remembered. He was the only one that really stayed by her side. She just wished she had the heart to tell him why she kept coming to school with so many bruises. Come to think of it, he often had the same practiced smile on his face.

She wasn't sure what provoked it, but one day, she started fighting back. Perhaps it was because she was tired of being knocked around. Maybe it was because she hated seeing that worried look on Jer's face when he saw the freshest bruise. More than likely, it was that she was done with rolling over and letting herself be used as a punching bag.

Whatever it was, she decided enough was enough. She refused to let herself get bullied by anyone. Even her own father.

Even with her new resolve, however, fear of her father's wrath was still branded deep in her skin. She lived her whole life in perpetual fear of angering him, which only served to make her more afraid of being near anyone. It was why she moved away so immediately after high school. She had developed such a fear of abandonment, she didn't even say goodbye. Not to Jer, not to Dave, not even to her own family. The more effectively she could disappear, the better. Then she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore.

It was reasons like this that made her afraid to go to sleep.

Every time she'd have a nightmare, which happened more nights out of the week than she'd really ask for, she'd wake up in a cold sweat.

What woke Roxy this time was an unknown foot making contact with her ribs.

She jolted back to consciousness and looked desperately around. Not for her attackers, but for any sign of where she was. Trees. Fire. A crumbling wall. She tried to figure out where she was, until her eyes fell on a horrible sight.

There were other bodies, bloody from their own assaults.

She felt like she was on autopilot. She was so dizzy from what she could only assume was a concussion, everything seemed like a blur. She grabbed one of the assailants and tossed him away, swinging her fists at the others that threatened her life. Tunnel vision narrowed her field of sight to just those that posed a threat.

They all wore masks. Why were they all wearing masks?

Roxy could tell she was bleeding, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The second anyone made a move to attack, she fought back. She clawed, bit, kicked, and punched.

They started to come at her in bigger numbers, but she fought even harder. Tears stung her eyes, all too aware of what could happen.

The unmasked man (she could only guess he was the 'leader') motioned to his lackeys. They tased her and laughed as she collapsed to the ground. The leader jammed his knee in Roxy's back to keep her pinned and tugged her hair up. He muttered something she couldn't quite understand, and she was left helpless to do anything but watch.

Two of the masked men held another victim down as a third kicked her in the stomach. There was a sickening crack, and Roxy knew there were a couple of broken ribs. She clawed at the dirt, trying desperately to spring to the rescue, but she couldn't. She screamed, begging them to let her go. Begging them to take her instead.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

She watched in horror as the poor girl was drenched in something. It smelled like gasoline.

Everything slowed down. The poor girl's eyes went wide when she realized what they were doing. They dragged her by her ankles toward the fire. She clawed at the ground, trying to get back to safety. Their eyes met for a moment. It was their only chance to say good bye, and they knew it really was good bye.

The flames engulfed her before she could utter her last words. Any thoughts she had were overcome by an earsplitting scream. Heat flooded her lungs and embers cauterized her airways. She was unconscious before Roxy could scream.

The redhead was in disbelief. This had to be a nightmare. This was the worst nightmare she'd ever had in her life. She was going to wake up soon, right?

They drenched her with the same gasoline. She made no move to fight. What was the point in fighting anymore? She was going to die. The other girl was dying. She wasn't dead yet. Oh god, Billie wasn't dead yet, but there was nothing that could be done to save her. All that could be done was to let her roast.

They dragged Roxy over to the fire and tossed her in.

There was no pain. She was left with only her thoughts. Her last thoughts, more than likely. She wondered why. Why this was happening to her. What she did to deserve this fate. She realized, then, that she had publicly kissed a girl. That girl that was so horribly beaten Roxy almost didn't recognize her. She was going to ask that girl to be her girlfriend.

And now she was going to die. And for what? Because she was in love with a woman? Was that why this was happening? Because some gang of homophobes decided she had less of a right to live than they did? Who got to make that kind of call? It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

Billie's screams echoed in her ears. She felt nothing. Nothing except the gentle radiation of heat. Now that was curious. Wouldn't burning alive hurt a lot more?

Through the darkness of the smoke clouding her eyes, she could see a light. Something resembling a man reached a hand out to her. To her own amazement, she could feel herself reaching out to him, too.

The man with hair like flames smiled at her, and all at once, she blacked out.

There was no memory of anything. Just darkness and fire. It was a truly unsettling combination, but for days, it was all Roxy knew. It was impossible to describe. It felt like she was alive and dead all at the same time. Like her life had been snuffed out, but the embers still glowed.

And all it took was a breath of life for the embers to grow back into a roaring flame.

Roxy jolted upright and immediately regretted it. Her body felt hot. She remembered the fire. Remembered cries of agony. She should have died. She wanted to die. And yet, here she was. Still breathing, and ….

Wait. How did she survive? It wasn't possible, was it? And why the hell did she still feel like she was on fire?

"Lay back down," a voice said. "You've been out for a week."

She nearly jumped out of her skin, eyes darting around in search of the voice. There was only one other person in the room, and it was someone she didn't know. Was he the man she saw before she blacked out?

His smile was charming enough, and his hair was indeed the color of the liveliest of flames. But he couldn't be real. It just wasn't possible.

"Roxy, I assure you. You're safe. You still need to rest."

"How do you know my name?" She inched away from him, gritting her teeth against the growing heat in her chest. It felt like she was still dying. This couldn't be natural.

The man held his hands up so she could see them, indicating he meant no harm. "I've been watching you for a while." There was a pause as he considered how his words sounded. "Alright, that sounded bad. But let me point this out: If I meant anything creepy by it, or if I meant you any harm, I'd probably have done something sinister by now. Right?"

Nothing about this man set her at ease. She stared at him, as though she expected him to grow a third head. "You're really terrible at this."

"I know. My wife tells me that all the time." The man smiled a winning smile and Roxy almost felt more comfortable. Almost. "My name is Loki."

He may as well have grown a third head. Roxy stared, bewildered. "Loki? The Norse God of Mischief?" This certainly didn't make her feel any more alright. "You've gotta be kidding me." She forced herself to stand up and touched her forehead with the back of her hand. "I'm feverish. I'm hallucinating. This is all some really messed up dream, and I'm going to wake up from it in about 30 seconds when I sweat through my pjs."

Loki raised his brow at her, unconvinced. "…You've dreamed this before, have you?"

"Well, not as such. But there's no other explanation. This is a fever dream."

He sighed and stood up. He was a shorter than he looked. She didn't know what might have convinced Roxy he was telling the truth. But rather than trust chance, Loki took it one step further. "Roxanne Azalea Lauffer, no one is more surprised than I that you survived the flames. Few creatures alive are capable of such a feat. Indeed, I can only imagine a handful. Dragons, phoenix, a firebird, and myself. A fire giant. And then there's you."

He leaned in close to her, brilliant green eyes examining her every feature. He looked far more curious than he was concerned, though if legend had anything to say about it, Roxy could hardly be surprised. "I wonder…"

"Hey, that's great and all, but do you mind wondering over there?" She gestured to a spot several feet from where she was, shying away from this confusing man in front of her.

The man laughed good-naturedly. At the very least, he could appreciate her spunk. He took a couple of steps back, as though he had honestly forgotten that personal space was a thing. When he felt she might be comfortable enough, he took a seat.

Roxy was trying to let it all process. What did he mean fire giant? She still wasn't totally sure that a god was standing in the room telling her she was anything but human. That just wasn't how reality worked. "Alright, so who put you up to this bullshit?" she asked. Loki didn't answer, looking surprised and confused. "Was it Mark? He's been complaining about how I'm not taking this class seriously."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Your … class?"

"My cryptozoology class!" She realized, of course, how crazy she might sound. From either side of the argument, nothing made sense. Either ghosts and monsters and gods didn't exist and this guy was pulling her leg, or they did exist and she was far more focused on the horrors of man she'd experienced just … wait … last week?

At a second glance, though, he could gather it was slightly more than discomfort that made her push him away. She was shaking. For a moment, and he couldn't be sure why, it was like he was looking at his own daughter shivering in fright.

Loki took a step toward her, but she winced back. "Give me some damn answers! Who are you?" Tears threatened to spill through Roxy's eyes, but she made every attempt to make herself look stronger.

He knelt down next to her to make himself a little smaller and offered a comforting smile. The sort of fatherly smile Roxy had never known. "My name is Loki Laufeyjarson. Your books will tell you I'm a trickster, and I can't be trusted, but there's far more out there that you need to be worried with. I want to help." With a flick of his wrist, a small stuffed fox appeared.

It was a plush that Roxy knew. For a moment, she thought it was a trick. She shied away from him again, but there were details about it that no one could fake. The small tear in the left ear, the barely-hanging-on hook she'd created for him when she had her pirate phase, and even the shattered plastic eye she so carefully made an eyepatch for.

Very carefully, she reached her hand out and touched it. All at once, the best memories came flooding back. She curled in on herself and hugged the toy tightly to her chest, burying her face in the worn out faux fur, breathing in the smell of wood smoke from all the secret camping trips she had taken with Jace and Jericho.

Seeing that she had more visibly calmed down, Loki gently rested a hand on her shoulder to test her comfort levels. The poor girl seemed little more than a lost child. He wasn't sure what he had prepared himself for, but it wasn't this.

The more she seemed to warm up to his presence (so to speak) she leaned into his touch. It was all starting to sink in. There were people that wanted her dead. And to top it all off, those pricks chose probably the one thing that couldn't kill her, so she had to live with that kind of knowledge.

Loki couldn't quite stand it anymore. He moved and sat next to her. She seemed to have come to terms that this was real, that he was real, and that she was safe. At least for now. If she wasn't human, it meant she wasn't safe for very long, but he'd be damned if he was going to leave her like this. He was a great many things, but heartless was not one of them. No matter what the history books might have tried to claim.

"I know what you're feeling," he whispered, gently sliding an arm around her. "Believe me, no one knows better than I do, the feeling of being absolutely helpless to save someone you love." Roxy looked up at him, eyes red with tears. "But you listen to me. You can't let one moment of weakness define you."

"My moment of weakness killed someone," she pointed out. "I could have done something! I-"

"No, you couldn't have." He lifted her chin and looked her dead in the eye, so there could be no question of his intentions. "If you really believe that, you're just asking for years of self-loathing. Sometimes you just have to accept that there's nothing you could have done." The look on her face made his heart sink. "It doesn't mean you didn't care, but trust me. Hating yourself won't bring her back."

As much as she wanted to argue, there was something about him that made her want to believe him. If he saved her, like it was starting to seem like he had, what reason had he to lie to her now? That coupled with what could possibly be described as one of the single most comforting embraces she'd ever experienced managed to convince her that he meant what he said. He could be trusted.

The comfort was broken by a single stray thought.

"What happened to Jace?" Once again, any thought she had about her own well-being was abandoned in favor of her worry for others. "He couldn't have been far away. What if they got him too? What if they hurt him?"

"Roxy, Jace is fine. They weren't after him. He isn't pansexual." He stopped and shut his eyes. Bad move. Very bad move. "Alright, I know. I suck at comforting people." He sighed and looked at Roxy again. "He's fine. I promise."

But she was already trying to get up. Her body was still trying to get used to her newfound heat, and so she wobbled quite a bit as she tried to locate her keys and her phone. She completely ignored Loki's protestations, choosing instead to call her brother. The longer she had to listen to his phone ring, the more annoyed she got. He never answered when it was important. Goddammit, Jace. Pick up your fucking phone!

When the phone went to voicemail, she growled angrily. The growl quickly turned into a squeak of surprise when a small flame appeared out of nowhere and vanished just as quickly.

Loki chuckled. Roxy looked back at him and showed him the glory of her middle finger as she tried to call her brother again. Again, he didn't answer, and again a flame roared to life and disappeared just as quickly. Muttering her hopes that the third time was the charm, she tried again with no answer. She growled, becoming less and less aware of the sparks that flared up with each burst of anger.

She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her, but it didn't stop Loki from following her. Any fire being had a wicked temper, and from what he had observed, Roxy was no different. Which is why it was troubling that she fully intended to put herself behind the wheel of heavy machinery. When she showed no signs of slowing down, he physically placed himself between her and her car.

"Move." Her over inflated sense of protectiveness for her brother overwhelmed any intimidation factor she might otherwise have felt in looking at a man with eyes like shimmering gold. Truthfully, she had no idea how tall Loki was, but she knew he was tall enough to make her feel like a child.

"Make me," he said plainly, like a dare. She couldn't if she tried, and she knew it. But all the same, she tried to push past him. He held her back and took her keys, holding them high above her head. He idly thanked his lucky stars that she hadn't yet grasped control of her own magic, or he might not be so smug right now. "Roxy, listen to me. Your brother is safe. I mean, really. If I was going to save you, why would I leave him in danger? I promise he's okay."

"But he's not answering his phone!" She was clearly frantic now, and completely oblivious to the amount of heat she was radiating. "It's not like him! If he was okay, he'd-" She was interrupted by the sound of her phone. The two fire beings stared each other down. Loki, as though he expected her to own up to her overreaction, and Roxy, far too stubborn to admit that maybe she was wrong.

Finally, she looked at her phone. It really was Jace calling her. She breathed a sigh of relief, but she didn't really feel better. Her life was still getting turned upside down. But at least now she could look more confidently into the god's eye. "Listen. I'm not going to pretend I know you, but my brother might have just narrowly avoided hell. Now you're telling me that there are monsters out there, and that I'm one of them?" She gripped her phone tightly in her hand. "I'm going to have to ask you to move. Now."

With a heavy sigh, Loki stepped to the side and let her pass. She answered her phone and shuffled toward her car. "Jace? Yeah, we've gotta talk about this whole not answering your phone crap. I was seriously worried!" She was far too proud to admit she was still feeling incredibly weak from the ordeal she'd just been through, and now that she had reason to worry about her little brother, chance that she'd admit it dropped to exactly zero. "No, don't you mind why I was worried. I'm the big sister. It's in my contract."

Loki watched as she fumbled with her keys and sighed. She really did remind him of himself. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen, and he wanted to stick around long enough to make that kind of assessment. It was just a matter of wondering if Roxy would let him stick around.

Just as he was about to ask if everything was alright, Roxy dropped her keys. She had a look of complete shock and terror on her face. Whatever was being said on the other line, it totally overrode her knee jerk response of immediately lashing out. She was scared and in disbelief. So much so, she hung up the phone without saying a word. From what he knew about her, that was major. It was one of her more endearing qualities – that she had to get the last word.

"What happened?" he asked, more concern in his tone than even he expected.

Roxy just stared at her phone. She made no move to pick up her keys. She was still trying to process what she'd been told. Now she knew why it was so hard for her mother to come right out and tell someone the bad news.

"Roxy?"

She looked up at him, after what felt like hours of baffled silence. After finally being able to wrap her head around it, she said, "Mom's in trouble."

Loki wouldn't let Roxy drive. The news devastated her, to the point that she nearly broke down into tears. Instead, however, Loki drove. A nerve wrecking experience, to be sure. He had never driven before in his life, and promised never to again after all of the damages he nearly caused.

They reached their destination, and Roxy managed to escape with only a minimal amount of psychological trauma. She poured out of the car and scrambled to her feet, giving only a moment's hesitation before running off in search of her brother.

As far as she knew, there was no news about what happened. All she knew was her mother was in danger, and Jace knew something about it. Of course, she feared the worst, and assumed maybe the group that had attacked her also got to her mom. But that was crazy. Why would that ever be a thing?

By chance, Jace glanced out his window to see Roxy looking frantically around. He ran outside and froze when he got a good look at her. She was disheveled. More so than he would have expected, even after hearing terrible news like this. More than that, she looked scared.

Seeing the look on Jace's face, Roxy realized what she must look like. She had been burned alive, unconscious for over a week, and didn't even bother to change clothes before setting out to meet up with him.

The two stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Jace found the courage to break the silence. "So … I heard something happened with you. Was it true?"

Roxy felt a lump tighten in her throat and looked down. Apparently, she didn't need to say anything. Jace just pulled her into a hug. She wanted to fight it, but she knew how the conversation would go. He would tell her "You've been there for me my entire life. Now I can be there for you." And she couldn't argue with that. Not in the state she was in, anyway.

Jace was surprised she didn't fight, but he was glad. He held her close. He wanted to know what exactly happened, but he knew she wouldn't want to talk about it. Not now, anyway. Though, that didn't quite explain why she smelled like smoke. "What happened to you, Rox?"

She had no idea what to tell him. How could she tell him they had nearly beaten her to death and tried to set her on fire? There was no way he would believe her. Instead, she decided to lie. It made her feel dirty, lying to her brother. "I don't remember."

He didn't buy it, but he didn't want to pry. He pulled her a little tighter into his embrace, in hopes she might feel a little safer. It worked, to some extent. She relaxed in his arms and nuzzled into him. It was nice, she had to admit, to feel comforted.

The thought dawned on her that she should introduce Jace to Loki, but it looked like the fire god had disappeared for now. Was she hallucinating all of that? She was definitely going to have to put a call in to her doctor as soon as she saw mom.

"What happened with mom?" she asked, almost afraid to know. With all of the problems their mother had, now she was worried this was all just a meltdown and not a complete catastrophe.

"She says 'they' tried to take her," he said, knowing exactly how Roxy would feel about it. "She called me a couple of days ago, absolutely convinced that someone was trying to kill her. I asked if she had been staying on her medication, and she yelled at me for being presumptuous."

With a sigh, Jace led his sister to where their mother was hiding. Candace was scared, but fine. Seeing her daughter made her feel so much better. She got up and threw her arms around Roxy, either oblivious that she looked like a hot mess, or uncaring. But she was thrilled to see her daughter. "Thank god you're here. I was so scared!"

"I know mom," she said in the most practiced tone she could manage. "Tell me what happened."

"Well, I was getting dinner ready. You know me, I wasn't paying attention to anything outside of the kitchen. All of a sudden, I heard one of the doors open. I looked around, and I didn't see anyone there, so I thought it was all in my head."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Jace muttered under his breath. Their mother hadn't heard him, but Roxy had. She silenced him quickly with a punch to the arm.

"What happened next, momma?"

Candace glanced at her two children and looked past her own confusion to continue her story. "I went back to the kitchen to pull the chicken out of the oven and that's when it happened. The lights went all sorts of flickery and I heard someone come into the house. I couldn't see them, but I know they were there!" She leaned in and whispered to Roxy. "I've felt like I was being watched for a long time. I think someone's after me!"

Roxy sighed and took her mother's hands in her own. "Mom, no one's after you." This was, unfortunately, something she had to tell her mom more than once. "You're okay now, aren't you?" She smiled when her mom nodded. "Then you're fine. If someone was after you, they probably wouldn't have let you get away." Wow, she was bad at comforting people too. And she was giving Loki a hard time. She sighed and shook her head. "Mom, you're safe and you're going to stay safe. As long as Jace and I keep an eye on you for a while."

Jace stayed quiet, but he held his phone up and waved it at Roxy to remind her of something. She didn't seem to understand at first, but then it clicked. She needed to call Dr. Livingston. She gently nudged her mother in her brother's direction and slipped off to call her doctor.

The phone rang for what seemed like ages before she heard her psychiatrist's voice.

"Miss Lauffer?" He sounded tired. Of course he was tired. It was easily 11PM where he was. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry for calling you so late," she said. "It's just …" She stepped out of the room and made sure to walk far enough away from her family that she could let it all out. "Dr. Livingston, everything is going wrong." She grit her teeth against her tears, positively refusing to cry a third time this month. "My dad died, and I only just found out about it. Mom was keeping it a secret and for the life of me, I can't figure out why."

There was a sound like Dr. Livingston was getting out of bed. Now Roxy really felt bad for calling him so late. Still, he seemed like he was willing to talk to her. "She might not have wanted you to feel obligated to attend his funeral. From what you've told me, she seems very sensitive to your history with your father."

"But that's the thing. I wasn't even invited! He died six months ago!" She reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair, as she often did when she was talking about something this stressful. Her doctor would tell her it was a nervous compulsion. She couldn't imagine why. "Apparently, he woke up one morning and decided to kill himself, and he didn't even bother to call his kids."

Well, there it was. Livingston rubbed his hand over his face to collect his thoughts. That was, indeed, unexpected. "I see. So you're frustrated because you didn't get a sense of closure about the relationship you had with him?"

"What the fuck is it about you people thinking I need some kind of closure?" She wasn't even angry anymore. It was just annoying. "I don't need closure! The son of a bitch is dead. End of story. Can we move on now?"

"Miss Lauffer, you called me, remember?" It was almost amusing, the conversations he had with her.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg." And that seemed to stop the laughing. "Dr. Livingston, if it was just the thing about my dad, I'd be far less hysterical. But I also just had to watch my fiancé burn to death." She didn't give him a chance to react. If she did, she might never have gotten it all off her chest. "I took Jace to Hazel, and when I got home, she was gone. I didn't think anything of it, but then all of a sudden, but then I woke up and it was dark, and there was a fire, and …." She took a deep breath. She wasn't going to cry. She refused. "I watched them beat her. It looked like they had beaten her for a long time, and they beat me. And I know it was because we were in love, and they hated us for it. But Christ, they doused her in gasoline and threw her in the fire."

She started shaking. Saying it all out loud suddenly made it all too real. Billie was gone. This was a reality she really didn't want to face, but she had to. And the silence from the other end of the line just made everything seem worse.

"Roxy, I'm so sorry." He wasn't sure what else to say.

"And on top of all that, I think my mom's having another breakdown. She thinks someone's after her."

"I know how frustrating that must be for you," he said, "but be patient with her. She might have stopped taking her medication, and you must be there for her. I understand that it might be the last thing you want to deal with right now, but it will be healthiest for you both in the long run."

"I know, but …." She sighed. "…. I know. I'll be there for her. I always have been." But dammit, why can't she be there for me when I need her?

Dr. Livingston seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. "She needs your help. Maybe it will be healthy for you to have this kind of distraction."

There was a moment of silence before she finally conceded. "Maybe you're right." She rubbed the bridge of her nose between two fingers and sighed. "No, I know you're right. The more I dwell on this, the worse I'm going to feel." It sounded so stupid, when she said it out loud. But it was exactly what her doctor would have told her. "I'm sorry again for calling so late."

"No, it's no problem." He yawned. "Sleeping too much is unhealthy anyway. But don't let that stop you. You should get some sleep."

Roxy chuckled awkwardly and said her goodbyes. As she took a step to check on her mother again, she saw Jace standing in the doorway. The color instantly drained from her face. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough that you don't have to tell me what happened." He offered a smile, though he knew it wouldn't help her feel better. "I won't tell mom. Promise. But you'd probably get back in here. Mom's trying to get back to her house to check on the chicken."

Roxy sighed and shook her head. This was going to be hell. She just knew it.

Sure enough, her mother was trying to push past them to get to the door. "I have to check on-"

"Mom, I know. But until we know whether or not someone's really after you, we've gotta keep an eye on you. Alright? Just to be safe." There was no way she really believed someone was after her mother, but this was hardly the first time she'd had to convince her mom she was safe. The only thing she could really do was play along until her mom snapped out of it.

Candace shook her head, though. She was set on trying to get back home. Through some convincing, though, she agreed to stay where she was. Jace told her he'd check on the house, and off he went to make sure everything was okay.

Which meant Roxy was left alone with her (in all probability) delusional mother. She tried – really tried – to be patient. There was nothing she wanted more than to get her mom to calm down and think rationally. Even when she was off of her medication, it was possible. So why was she so insistent that someone had tried to attack her? It didn't make sense. There was no motive, was there?

Her phone started ringing and Roxy excused herself so she could talk to Jace. "Please tell me you've got good news," she almost snarled. "Mom just keeps insisting that someone's after her."

"That's the thing," Jace said, almost reluctantly. "She might be right. Rox, the whole place is a mess. Doors are broken, windows are broken, and it smells really funky." There were sounds like he was stepping over broken glass. "I hate to say it, but maybe mom's just not crazy this time."

She went pale. That wasn't the news she wanted to hear.

Just as she turned to ask her mom if she knew what kind of damage had been done, she caught a glimpse of something moving outside.

More than that, she could smell something foul.

"Hey Jace? What does it smell like over there?"

It could just be a coincidence, but after everything she had seen over the last couple of days, coincidence seemed a little unlikely. It could be nothing, but she couldn't help but think of her cryptozoology class. As long as it didn't smell like-

"I don't know … rotten eggs?" There was a brief moment of silence before, "Mom doesn't use sulfur around the house, does she?"

She didn't even bother hanging up. The phone fell out of her hand as she ran back to her mother, but what she saw made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Roxy, what is it?"

Her mother hadn't seen it yet. That alone made her blood run cold. She was absolutely petrified. There was a man standing just in the shadows, but it didn't look like any man she'd ever seen before. It was tall, with piercing orange eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light. It stared at her. Sizing her up. There was a darkness enough to it that Roxy was completely paralyzed with fear.

Then it shifted.

The man became a lion, far larger than what should have been normal, with the same luminescent eyes. It pounced on Roxy's mother. Candace let out a scream as the lion sank its teeth into her shoulder and pulled her to the ground.

Roxy lurched forward and tried desperately to grab at her mother's hands. The lion growled and swatted at her with its paw. Still, she tried to pull her mom to safety, even though she knew she couldn't do it alone.

As though it was an answer to her prayers, the door burst open. She didn't – not even for a second – questioned how Dave knew where she was or how he knew she was in trouble. All that mattered to her was trying to save her mother. She lost her father and lost her fiancé. She couldn't lose her mother, too. She just couldn't.

But he didn't move to fight the lion off. He was pulling Roxy away from the struggle.

"NO!" she screamed. "Let me go!" She kicked and flailed, trying to get away from him and back toward her mother. But it was too late. The lion had dragged her off, into the shadows, and she was gone. There was no trace of her, except her abandoned cane and a trail of blood that ended barely inches from the wall.

No. No, this wasn't happening. She turned on Dave and shoved him away. "What the fuck! Why couldn't you help her?" She put her hands on his chest to shove him away again, but this time she noticed he was bleeding. "Dave, what's going on?"

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room. "There's no time to explain. All you need to know is you're not safe."

She pulled her arm free and made him stop. Her car was in sight, and she could see Jace's car peeling around the corner. "Tell me what the fuck is happening or I swear to god I'll rip your tongue off and lick your ass with it!"

Dave was taken aback, if for no other reason than he'd never seen her act like this. But, with a sigh, he stopped. "There are demons after you, alright? They've been lurking for a long time. I wasn't sure why, or if they were going to attack, but apparently whatever they were waiting for has taken too long. I didn't know they'd go after your mom, or I would have been around to stop it from happening. Okay? Can we go now?" He grabbed her again and pulled her toward her car. It was only just dawning on her that there were no more cars. However he got here, it wasn't by automatic vehicle.

Demons were real, and they wanted to kill her. Okay. This was something she could live with. Maybe it was a good, preemptive move to sign up for that cryptozoology class. Boy, would she have a final paper for them.

Jace pulled up and bounced out of the driver's seat. "What happened? Is mom safe?"

"It took her," Dave said. "A demon. I don't know why, but it went straight for her." He looked at Roxy. "To be honest, I think it was trying to get to you. Now, please, you two need to get out of here before more show up."

"Before more show up? Dave, start making sense right now! Why would demons be after us?"

"After you, Roxy! After you!"

"WHY WOULD DEMONS BE AFTER ME?"

Dave's eyes turned white. Stark white. It stopped Roxy dead in her tracks. "There. Is. No. Time. Get out of here. Both of you. Get to somewhere safe. I'll do what I can to help, but I need to stay here to make sure they can't follow you. Now, would you kindly GET OUT OF HERE."

A dark energy radiated off of him, and sent both Jace and Roxy running to their cars. Roxy shouted to Jace that they needed to split up, and they went their separate ways. They took separate detours, but met up again at the safe house in Kansas they'd set up to get away from everything.

Roxy had joked before, about life being hell.

She had no idea what she was in for.