And it's another long chapter! Not as long as number three but still fairly lengthy. I enjoyed writing this one a lot but I let Cassian decide where it was going and so…well, I hadn't planned for his feelings to be so messed up. Bless him.

Huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed, added this to their favourites or even just read this so far (lurkers come and say hi!). I will try and update this soon!

Sorry Lyeless and Lockesilver, I tried to email you a draft but the email broke! Will send you next chappy I promise.

(oh and I know I make it sound like this chappy is going to be M rated…but it's not. Trust me, you're safe for now.)

…and with that waffley little note, off we go.

Four – Crawling Blind

The room was bathed in darkness, the candle having burnt out long ago and yet, Cassian had made no move to relight it. In fact, it took him almost an hour to realise the candle had burnt out at all. He had been too busy talking, staring into the middle distance and reaching back into memories long buried.

Jizabel had seen the candle snuff itself out but had remained silent. It didn't seem to matter. Even if he had been bothered he wouldn't have been able to say a word – he was frozen, now. They were still sitting in the attic room, backs against the wall. Although they rarely looked at one another, their hands remained clasped between them even after the cat had left Jizabel's lap to curl up on the mattress and sleep. With his hand still encased by Cassian's, Jizabel was unable to move. It felt to him as though moving would shatter everything; shatter the feeling of calm that had descended upon him as he listened to Cassian talk.

It had all started after Jizabel had agreed to stay. A silence had filled the room that was awkward and seemed unbreakable and so, desperately, Jizabel had said the first thing that came to mind.

"Why don't you talk about your childhood?" he had said, barely hearing the words as they left his lips. Cassian had cocked his head to one side thoughtfully and shrugged.

"Because nobody ever asks me to talk about it," he said simply, "And some things are better left unsaid. You understand that, surely?"

Jizabel paled a little at this, but ploughed on regardless. "But before Cassandra banished you from his estate, you brought the subject up of your own free will…why…" Jizabel stopped, not entirely sure of which question to ask. Cassian smiled.

"But I was talking to you then, doctor. And it was something you needed to hear."

"Well…" Jizabel shuffled his feet a little, hating feeling like he was intruding. He never thought twice of intruding normally and was still clinging onto the belief that being here with Cassian was a normal situation.

"Well, what?" Cassian asked gently, pressing Jizabel's hand so softly that it was barely noticeable.

"I think it's something I'd like to hear," Jizabel said simply, trying to be assertive and more like himself. "It can't have been all bad, surely?"

Cassian had smiled again and lowered his eyes to the wooden planks on the floor. He sighed. "No, I suppose it wasn't all bad. Not all bad at all."

It had been like a dam breaking. Once Cassian had begun talking, he found himself unable to stop and as he talked his eyes grew softer, gazing into the past. Jizabel had listened almost in wonder and detail after detail was presented to him. Cassian managed to completely avoid all talk of his mistreatment, all talk of his crimes and focussed instead on everything else that had made him who he was. He had spoken of his parents, before they had cast him out. How his mother was a small and soft lady, gently spoken and kind while his father was tall and assertive, not caring much for his son at all. He had explained how fascinated he was upon seeing the circus and pointedly left out how hurt he had felt at being left there. Jizabel learnt about the way he had first been taught the art of throwing knives and how he had become nervous and removed part of a gentleman's ear during his first performance. Cassian had later moved on to describe a few friends he had made before Delilah had recruited him and how he regretted leaving them behind, presuming they had been killed by now. The storied went on and on and Jizabel couldn't help but feel a little intimidated.

Jizabel had always assumed that Cassian was a creature raised and moulded by hate and pain, like himself. Now he could see that Cassian was instead made of all the little pleasures that had saved him from the pain, rather than the pain itself. Jizabel felt a little cheated and thought about leaving – there was nothing to bind them together now, no common ground…no. He knew it was a lie even as he thought it. And so he waited silently until Cassian ran out of words.

The silence that flowed back once Cassian had finished talking was as different from the first as it was possible to be. The air seemed filled with snatches of stories as though he was still speaking and Jizabel would have been happy to sit in that silence forever, absorbing all the emotions that he himself had never been able to experience. This time, it was Cassian that broke the silence.

"I didn't mean to go on for quite that long," he murmured, giving a weak smile. "Sorry. I'm a little sick of my own voice now."

Jizabel shook his head. "Don't apologise."

"Why not?" Cassian laughed. "I'm sure you must have fallen asleep, at least once."

Jizabel shook his head again and opened his mouth to explain but didn't know how to start. How could he possibly tell Cassian that although his stories had been happy, they were heartbreaking? That they had allowed Jizabel to realise that happiness could actually be respected? That his words had dispelled painful images of Cassian's childhood that Jizabel hadn't even known he had been holding? It was hopeless. Instead, he simply shook his head again and said, "No."

Glancing at the candle, Cassian suddenly stood and Jizabel felt instantly cold. He had forgotten all about the hand resting on his but now it was gone he felt a sense of loss, almost like losing an arm. This was ridiculous. He shook himself lightly and sat up a little straighter, deciding it was time to take control of himself again. How Alexis would laugh, if he could see his son now!

"You've been here for a long time now," Cassian said quietly, kneeling next to the candelabra and searching for matches. "I mean, it was midnight when we met at Westminster Abbey… and a few hours before you came here…you're going to need rest at some point." Jizabel opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted. "And don't tell me you can go without sleep because I know the sort of schedule that Alexis keeps you on."

Jizabel quietly glowered at Cassian while he fumbled in his pockets to search for matches, but couldn't deny that it was true. The sort of work Alexis had planned for tomorrow could not be done with a sleep deprived mind.

"What has he got you working on now, anyway?" Cassian asked, still searching his pockets.

"He's trying to improve the deadly dolls," Jizabel said simply as though this was nothing unusual. "He asked me to find out whether they could survive on anything other than human blood. We quickly ruled out the possibility of using anything that wasn't biological, and you can hardly power a corpse on plants….which leaves…"

"Wait," Cassian stopped searching for a moment and stared at Jizabel in horror. "He's not asking you to use…"

"Animal blood?" Jizabel said, suppressing a shudder and swiftly slipping his spectacles back into place in an effort to assert his superiority. "That is what he suggested yes."

"But why?" Cassian scowled. "He knows that you would never allow him to do that."

"The card master has always been very inventive when it comes to amusing himself at others expense," Jizabel shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. Zenopia and I have been experimenting with using other things such as human skin or hair. Nothing has worked so far but it's worth a try. I am due to be in the operating theatre at noon."

Cassian knelt on the floor by the crate, finally giving up on the search for matches. "Well, it has to be at least six in the morning now. You should sleep. We should sleep."

Silently, Jizabel nodded and finally gave in. He listened quietly as Cassian fussed over sleeping arrangements. After a few minutes of rambling on Cassian's part, Jizabel lost his patience and moved to sit on the mattress, discarding his long coat on the way. He then turned his back to Cassian who had fallen silent and began removing his waistcoat.

Cassian didn't know what to say, which was a small blessing since his throat was sore from talking for so long. It was just so strange, seeing Jizabel acting so forward.

Then again, Cassian supposed it wasn't really strange at all. What had been strange was seeing the doctor silently listening, looking meek and childlike. What had been strange was the softness of his hand and the way it would tremble slightly every now and then, as though Jizabel was unsure whether he should be pulling away. All of that had been strange but…strangely right. Cassian wondered whether he had been allowed to see the real doctor, the real Jizabel as he would have been had he been alone. Seeing him revert now to his controlling attitude was a little painful, harsh almost.

While Cassian had been thinking, Jizabel had discarded the waistcoat and laid it neatly out on the floor. He was now briskly unbuttoning his shirt and Cassian realised he must look foolish, standing and staring. He hurriedly began removing his own layers of clothing trying to act as businesslike as possible. He moved to sit on the other side of the mattress, back to back with Jizabel and so he felt the movement of the doctors shirt as it was removed and gently deposited along with his other garments. He went still. There was a moment of silence as neither of them moved and then, obeying some inner voice that refused to be quiet, Cassian turned his head to look.

He was…beautiful. Cassian knew that everyone seemed to use that word of Jizabel, hell, even Cassandra had used it but Cassian could think of nothing else that would suffice. Now that morning had arrived, a small amount of light was being let into the room through holes in the badly kept ceiling. It was a shade of blue, the light, almost grey; the strange half-light that swallows the world just before the sun appears over the horizon. Everything in the attic room was cast in shades of grey. Under this light, Jizabel's hair seemed to glow, the colour of the light itself. The doctor flicked his head slightly in a practiced movement and the long tresses seemed to ripple like water as they came loose from the knot that had been restraining them. Cassian felt his hands twitch but couldn't draw his eyes away. There was a click as Jizabel placed his spectacles on the floor once again and Cassian caught a brief glimpse of one side of his gentle features; long eyelashes resting against pale skin. His skin was indescribable in that moment. Under the light it appeared flawless, soft, begging to be caressed. Cassian bit his lip – the scars the ran down Jizabel's back were testament to the fact that it had been caressed, but by the card masters whip.

Cassian turned himself so that he was half facing Jizabel, shirt unbuttoned, while the doctor remained stoically facing the wall. Cassian raised his hand. It was trembling as he reached out and gently, ever so softly traced a line down one single scar with his finger. Jizabel seemed to freeze for a moment and then he visibly shivered at the contact. Abandoning all of his common sense, Cassian continued to trace the scars slowly, one by one and to his surprise Jizabel said nothing, did nothing. Eventually, there were no more scars to trace. Except…there was one, different from the others. A line of scar tissue that was thicker than the others ran around from Jizabel's lower back to his stomach. The line was slightly crooked and deeper in some places than others. It was also darker, fresher.

Cassian removed his hands as though burnt. This scar had not been caused by a whip. The silence suddenly seemed to ring in his eyes and his mouth went dry. He didn't know what he could possibly say.

"Cassian?" Jizabel's voice was quiet but not afraid, not angry and not ashamed. This gave Cassian the strength to ask.

"What caused this wound?" he asked, his voice much louder than he had wanted it to be. "I can tell it wasn't caused by a whipping. What has that bastard done to you now? If he-"

"I did it," Jizabel whispered. "So if you're going to be angry at anyone, be angry at me."

Cassian opened and shut his mouth a few times, unsure of how to answer. He was trembling all over now from a mix of shock, fear, rage and something he didn't want to put a name to but knew very well was an emotion he shouldn't have been feeling.

"Are you feeling well Cassian?" Jizabel turned around suddenly and grabbed Cassian's still raised hand in his own. His eyes were shining and his lips were set in a thin line. The pale expanse of his chest stretched out as he turned and Cassian fought the urge to move away before he did something ridiculous. "You're trembling," Jizabel continued.

"I…" Cassian shook his head and lowered his eyes in shame. "I'm fine. I was just a little shocked. I hate the fact that in the short time I was gone you felt like hurting yourself."

"Felt like?" Jizabel smiled weakly and let Cassian's hand drop. "Well, we'll see about that. And anyway, Cassian, if you want to lecture me about the way I treat my own body then you should provide me with an explanation of this first."

As he spoke, Jizabel raised a slender hand and gently traced a line over Cassian's hip bone. Cassian froze. He had forgotten. Memory of the pain too recent to be forgotten flashed across his mind and he saw himself, crouched in the corner of this attic, knife clasped in his hand, blood cooling on the floor…

"Those marks are familiar," Jizabel said quietly and pushed Cassian's shirt back so that it fell away from him. Cold fingers began tracing lines once again. "I have seen them before and yet before I know they were on a body much smaller." He leant back but Cassian did not yet dare to meet his gaze. "You recreated your scars," Jizabel said gently. "Why?"

"Because I was scared," Cassian said blankly. "I said before. Do you know how terrifying it is to wake up and realise you're in someone else's body? I…I did it on the third day. I wanted to look more like myself and the scars were the only thing that was in my power to create."

Jizabel laid a hand gently on Cassian's arm and when Cassian finally raised his eyes, Jizabel lowered his own.

"I'm sorry, Cassian."

"So am I," he said quickly, realising that an apology from Jizabel was extremely rare. He sighed a little and then pulled back the blanket on the small mattress, allowing Jizabel to climb under the blanket. Cassian followed himself and was glad when Jizabel turned away to face the wall. Silence descended upon the room and Cassian became very aware of his breathing and of the alien sounds of someone else next to him. Soft breathing, Rustling as he moved. Even his heartbeat at this distance. Combined it was like some strange melody and Cassian let himself forget how strange this situation was and forget that this shouldn't be happening at all.

He was sharing a bed with his ex-superior, a known murderer with no regrets about taking life, someone who had been abused as a child and was still abused as an adult, someone who had been given the title of 'Death'…and yet, Cassian knew he would never choose to sleep beside anyone else.

Jizabel wondered whether Cassian was asleep but assumed he was still awake since his breathing was a little irregular. He felt…shaken. Confused. His mind was plagued by emotions he had no name for and as much as he was trying to deny it, he felt more comfortable here than he had ever felt anywhere else.

That is, until he felt Cassian lay a hand on his shoulder. He said nothing but Jizabel was suddenly aware of how much of himself Cassian had revealed that night, how open he had been. Jizabel thought briefly of how powerful this made him but hated himself for it. He was filled with the sudden, pressing need to give something back…and there was only one thing he could think of.

"I opened the wound in my side," he said softly, speaking into the darkness. He felt Cassian tense beside him. "But I didn't do it because of despair. I know that's what you were thinking. But you see, I had no choice."

"What do you mean?" Cassian murmured, sounding half asleep.

"He didn't give me any choice."

"Who?"

The anger that was now lacing Cassian's voice was enough to force Jizabel into answering, and as he did so he shut his eyes.

"Cassandra. Cassandra gave me no other way to escape."

Thankee kindly for your time *curtseys* I hope you liked my little rant about Cassian's past – I really am considering turning it into a mini-story. Maybe. We'll see.

The next chapter will be M rated to warn you now. I will warn again in the chapter itself. You have been warned!

Oh and the Jizabel/Cassian invasion marches on ^^ Feel like joining? Hm?