A/N: Hi, I'm back! It's been a while, but I promised a sequel, so here it is: From the Truth of a Thousand Lies. Or, Dante's ongoing moral crisis. I have NOT finished writing the entire thing, so updates are going to come a bit more slowly, but I have some free time, so hopefully I'll be able to set time aside to write.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Talon Saga or Dante. I do own the bullet currently lodged in his ninth thoracic.

I made this promise at the beginning of There's a Devil in the Church, and I'll make it again: I promise not to kill Dante. This entire story is an attempt to redeem him without getting him dead, because I don't like the redemption=death trope. That being said, that's the only promise that I'm making. If you remember, last time I promised that, I shot him in the first paragraph. Good luck, readers.

First mistake: He lied to Ember in Crescent Beach. He promised that he'd go rogue with her, and he should have followed through. Or he should have told her that he was going to stay. He shouldn't have called Lilith on her. That night had been where it all truly started. He could have avoided all of this if he had just chosen his sister over the organization.

Second mistake: He sent Faith after Ember. That choice still hurt to think about, not only because it shattered all trust that Ember had in him, but because it ended with a dead hatchling that he knew he was responsible still had nightmares about her.

Third mistake: The vessel project. The entire thing was one big mistake, tied off with forty-two humans dead on his orders.

Fourth mistake: Capturing Ember, Cobalt, and Garret. Ordering the Cobalt's and the soldier's deaths, even though he promised Ember that they wouldn't come under harm. Letting Luther of all people interrogate them, even though everyone in Talon knew that he was a sadist. Turning his sister over to the organization and trusting them. Never questioning the Elder Wyrm's motives.

Fifth mistake: That night, when he ordered the vessels kill the underground that Ember called her family.

"Dear god, you've finally snapped."

Dante turned around to meet Hamsah's eyes, which were widened in horror. His hair was pulled back in a lopsided ponytail, and sweat still shone off his forehead.

"Are the outside chores finally getting to you?" Dante asked instead of giving a response. "Or is Jade still having you lead combat lessons?"

"You're actually cleaning out the fridge," Hamsah continued. "Desperate times have fallen upon you if you're attacking that nightmare."

"Well, we knew it was going to happen eventually."

"Do you need an intervention?"

Dante put down the carton of eggs on the counter and fixed Hamsah with a glare. Hamsah returned it with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. Dante shook his head and turned back to his task. He had already taken all of the food out of the fridge and completely cleaned off the first shelf, and he still didn't know what to do or what he was going to say to Ember. He had made so many mistakes. How could he begin to put it all into words?

"What's troubling you, Dante Hill?" Hamsah walked over to him and sat down on the counter.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm your friend, I think. Isn't that what friends do? Care over their sad friends?"

"I'm not sad."

"You're so sad."

Dante groaned, and Hamsah leaned over to steal the dishrag from his loose grip. He held it over his head before Dante could grab it back and kept him at bay with his legs. Two soft, but still meaningful, kicks to his chest and Dante gave up. He sighed and flicked a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"Come on, Dante Hill. You aren't going to find any answers in the fridge. What's wrong?" Hamsah asked. Dante looked back at the fridge. "It's your deadline, isn't it?"

Dante's shoulders slumped, and he closed the fridge to lean against it. "They said that they'd be back by sundown, which means two hours before… I mean, I'm happy that she's coming back, and I'm relieved that she's coming back intact. I've missed her. But what can I say?"

"I think you start with sorry."

"That doesn't cover it, Hamsah. I nearly killed her back in Talon, and Cobalt, and her... boyfriend." That word still came hard to his lips. Boyfriend. His sister had a boyfriend. "And I did kill others that she knows about. I have everything to be sorry for, so how do I... how do I cover it?"

"You do know that you're the ex-chameleon, right?" Hamsah quirked an eyebrow. "You're the one who has a way with words. I have no business with giving you advice with them, being a former viper-trainee."

"You're the least helpful person right now."

"I'm better than Kain. You might want to ask Astatine, though. She's good with the touchy-feely things. Got me out of my shell."

Dante closed his eyes. He was so screwed. Why couldn't he have just gone with Ember when she first left Crescent Beach? Why couldn't he have left the organization before his hands were covered in blood? Why couldn't…

"Hey, hey, you'll be fine," Hamsah said. "She's your sister, she still loves you. Nothing can change that. She's going to forgive you. And then you'll start crying, and she'll start crying, and we'll have to deal with two crying sixteen-year-olds. Seriously, that's what'll happen, I guarantee it."

"You think?" Dante asked. His voice sounded small and vulnerable, so unlike how he had spoken back in Talon.

"I'd bet… fifty dollars."

"Neither of us have money."

"Aren't you the buzzkill. How about… five hundred in Monopoly money. Next time we play, the loser gives the winner five hundred dollars at the start of the game. Might be the only way that I can win against you."

"Well, if you're willing to be Monopoly money, I guess that I have to believe you," Dante rolled his eyes and tried to make another grab for the dishrag. Hamsah held it further over his head. Dante got another dishrag from the sink.

"You know, I never had siblings," Hamsah said, twirling the dishrag. "But I've always wanted one. They seem fun. The closest thing I have is Astatine Lopez, and she's great."

Dante thought back to his conversation with her several days ago. She was years younger than Hamsah, and yet still fiercely protective over him. Even with Astatine's promised second chance and her more casual demeanor around Dante, she still made it clear that she didn't trust him, and that she would gut him if he so much as touched Hamsah.

"Yeah, she's pretty much your sister," he said.

"If I wronged her…" Hamsah muttered, voice fading out. Dante re-opened the refrigerator and continued to try to clean the mold off of the second shelf. "I mean, she's a bit less inclined to forgive than Ember Hill."

"You don't know Ember like I do." But do I really know her? Dante shook himself. After Ember came back, he could mend the relationship. That was all that mattered at the current moment. "Can you give me the vinegar?"

"Nope. You have to talk about your emotions like any other normal, well-adjusted person."

Dante groaned and walked around Hamsah to get the bottle of vinegar himself. Walking was getting easier every day, but it wasn't anywhere near the point it had been before he was shot. It still hurt to stand for any longer than a few minutes, he still walked with a definite limp, and he'd stumble or trip pretty often. Spending so long on his feet while cleaning out the refrigerator would probably render him unable to get out of bed the next day. But he wasn't bound to his cot anymore. He could walk. There had been a few days where he didn't think he'd get that far.

Hamsah lightly kicked him again, right at the small of his back. Dante nearly fell over.

"You can't hide in the refrigerator forever, Dante Hill."

"I know that," Dante groaned. "It just… I can't talk to her now. I can't go out and take a walk to clear my thoughts, or train with you and everyone else to get my mind off of it, or—" he swallowed thickly. "I can't exactly fly away from my problems." Never again. "But I can do this."

Hamsah looked down and put the dishrag back in the sink. Then he slowly reached over, taking the vinegar from Dante's unprotesting hands.

"You know, I can't fly, either," Hamsah said softly. Date blinked and looked at him, furrowing his brow. "Wes did his best to set my wings and stitch up the skin, but there's a lot of membrane that's missing, and there's some nerve damage. I can still shift, and I hope that I'll be able to make a full recovery with enough time, but… yeah. You're not alone in all of this. And you're not alone with Ember, either. We've all done stupid shit."

"My 'stupid shit' has gotten people killed."

"Dante Hill…" Hamsah sighed and hopped off the counter. He placed his hands on Dante's shoulders and made solid eye contact. In spite of himself, Dante froze. "Sometimes you need to look at what you've done, recognize you messed up, and move on. I'm not saying to pretend that you did nothing wrong, but whipping yourself over it isn't going to change the past. It's not going to make your sister forgive you." Dante winced, and Hamsah flicked his temple. "She already has, idiot. You just need to acknowledge it. Grovelling may or may not help."

"You don't—"

"I saw her run into St. George lines to save their asses, and drag us along with her, all because she refuses to believe that they can't be saved. If she doesn't extended the same grace to you, then I'm losing five hundred dollars worth of Monopoly Money."

Dante looked away and felt his lips twitch, even though the idea of seeing Ember again still made him want to lock himself in the storm shed until she forgot that he existed

"I'm not going to cry," He muttered. Hamsah gave a pointed look, cocking his head to the side. "I'm not."

"Sure you're not, Dante Hill."

"I'm not."

"That's what I just said," Hamsah grinned and ruffled Dante's hair. Dante growled and tried to smooth it back to normal, tucking a loose strand behind his ear. "Do you want help putting the food back in the fridge?"

"Yes please," Dante nodded. It was only half cleaned, but he doubted that Hamsah was going to let him finish and stew in his own nerves for any longer. "And… thanks. For everything."

Hamsah nodded and grabbed the carton of eggs sitting on the counter.

It took forty minutes for them to put everything back in its respective place, mostly because Hamsah kept taking breaks to eat whatever was in his hands at the given moment, but by the time they finished, Ember still wasn't back. Not sunset yet.

Dante was torn between wanting more time to figure out what to say, and wanting to get it over with. He missed Ember. He wanted to see her again and talk like they used to. But they couldn't go back to normal, not really, and they couldn't even try unless she forgave him. What if she decided that he wasn't worth it?

"What is… the best memory you have with Ember?" Hamsah asked as he hopped back onto the counter. Dante sat down as well, but the ache in his spine didn't dissipate. He supposed he had asked for it.

"What?"

"Best memory."

"Um…" Dante blinked, thinking back over the years. There was the time they had tried to run away for an afternoon to see a horror film, the adventures they had while learning to drive, the times they went flying together in the rain… so many moments he had kept close to his heart for when he needed them.

"She used to draw constellations on my arms," he said, almost to himself. "I never even thought of it before, but when we were both stressed, she'd get out these silver sharpies and map them all out. I never really cared about space, but I hated washing them off. And one time we tried to run away in the middle of finals. They dropped us off in the middle of the desert, and she managed to convince me to just walk to the town over instead of navigating our way back. And she once stayed up with me for the entire night because I was nervous about a surgery I had in the morning. And… God, I'm an idiot."

"A little bit, yeah," Hamsah nodded and undid his ponytail, letting his hair fall around his shoulders. "But aren't we all? You two have sixteen years of history. Who in their right mind would give that up just because her brother made a few months worth of awful decisions?"

"Really awful decisions."

"You're impossible," Hamsah groaned. "I'm trying to be supportive. Should I get Astatine? She's better at—"

"No, no, I just… need to get over myself," Dante muttered.

Hamsah gave a heavy sigh, hopped off the counter, and walked over to the window to keep watch. "Think about it this way. You only have to go through this conversation once."

Dante closed his eyes and groaned. He had never been so nervous over a conversation, not even the ones with the Elder Wyrm. Because with the Elder Wyrm, he could fall back on his training. That wouldn't work for Ember, and even if it did, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to lie to her.

God, he was a wreck.

"And…" Hamsah continued. "It seems like you'll be able to go through it pretty soon." Dante opened his eyes to look at Hamsah, who grimaced. "Guess who just pulled into the driveway?"

I managed to make it 2,000 whole words without hurting someone. I deserve an award.

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