A/N: Something really horrible happens in this chapter... if you're sensitive to violence and sexual stuff, i advise skippin' that part.

Basta walked through the Sicily airport, holding a water bottle in one hand, and a small duffle bag in the other. His jaw felt tight and sore- he'd spent the entire flight fighting nausea. He did not like flying... one bit. During takeoff, he grasped the armrests until he was white knuckled and no color remained in his face. He had kept his seatbelt done up so tight around his skinny hips that he still had purple marks on his skin.

His black shoes padded over the shiny white tile floor, which held his reflection on its glossy surface. He walked under the red flags, but the escalators and duty-free shops.

Grazi Dio he thought, the smell of Panini reaching him. Sono a casa. I'm home.

He caught the bus, taking him to the parking lot where his car was basking in the hot sun, its silver surface glinting in the light. He burst through the bus doors, embracing the ridiculous heat. As he unlocked the door and climbed inside, though, a voice in the back of his head nagged him... You didn't kill that man like you were supposed to. You disobeyed your boss... your job isn't done. But he ignored it best he could, adding to himself that it was Kinje that practically sent him there, to Canada.

"I don't take orders from people like that" he thought furiously. He swerved out of the parking lot, eager to get home. Though he had a long drive ahead of him, he was perfectly happy to be back in Italy. It was only early in the morning, and already the sun was high and hot. Unlike that cursed Canada... to think, that a little more than 14 hours ago, he was thigh deep in snow. And the Canadians loved their snow... 2 year olds to 60 year old slid across it on boards they called toboggans, skis and snowboards. I'll take the heat, thank you. The Canadians were crazy. Basta briefly recalled seeing a man using the snow bank on his balcony to cool his beer.

X

When Basta arrived back at Capricorn's village, the sky was black, faintly illuminated by a weak moon and dwindling stars. He pulled his car into its usual parking space, and greeted one of the black jackets with a high-five.

"Back from igloo land?" He asked, smiling and ugly grin. Basta nodded, then Anya and Sarah's faces flashed through his mind. He shook his head, to rid himself of the thoughts. The gravel crunched under Basta's shoes as he made his way down to the crumbling village, nestled in the hills.

X

Noon. Basta's eyes remained fixed on the green digital numbers on his bedside clock. 12:00. I am so late.. The man dragged himself out of bed, with little energy. He was wearing his black boxers and a grey long sleeved tee shirt. He looked in the mirror he had on the wall, and groaned. His hair, which was naturally a very dark brown, stuck up wildly on one side, and covered an eye on the other. Under his eyes were puffy and purple, and his cheeks were flushed a little too pink. Meg said that he was frost bitten. The man moaned and pulled off his clothes in front of his reflection. Before he shrugged into his white button up, he made a quick glance at the faint six pack fading away from his abs. Ever since November he'd been very depressed, stopped working as hard, and not taking care of himself.

Once he was dressed, he sluggishly made his way outside, putting on his gold wire framed aviators to protect his stunning green eyes from the hot Italian sun. His mouth parted in slight contempt or perhaps disgust. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, snapped the orange lighter, and lit the end of the white stick. To Capricorn's house we go he thought, his stomach churning.

X

"It's called Jetlag Basta, and I figured you'd come down with it. " Capricorn sat in his arm chair, stroking his chin. "But I am proud of you for completing your job so fast." Basta allowed his lips to twitch in a smile of self satisfaction.

"Is Kinje still here, sir?"

"Kinje is dead." Silence hung in the air briefly, Basta's head spun. "We found her on the street. Naked. Beaten to death."

"Oh" Basta's voice sounded like a teenager's at that moment. Ooohh reeeeally?

"Oh well" Capricorn shrugged. "I figured it was only a matter of time. It's no bother. We've hired a few other men, real good at their job. They've replaced Kinje well" Then he looked at his nails. Scrutinized them, actually. That was one of the things Basta hated about his boss; his girly habit of obsessing over his nails. Though Basta himself took time to clean under them with the blade of his knife, he didn't worry too much about hang nails or whatever the hell they were called. Don't look at my goddamn hands. "You didn't fancy her, did you?" He asked, his voice unchanging.

"No" Basta's voice was a scoff.

"Alright. You may do as you wish today, my boy." Then Capricorn waved him away, as if sick of his presence. Basta spun on his heel and left, grateful to feel the kiss of the sun on his sore cheeks.

As Basta made his way to the river bank, he thought of Kinje. What a satisfactory death she'd met. Raped. Beaten. Perfect. He unbuttoned his white shirt, slid out of it, then kicked off his shoes, socks and pants. The damp dirt felt cool against his bare feet. With a sigh, Basta looked at his arms. Those awful arms of his. Though toned and strong, they were covered with faint burn scars, and horizontal pink lines on the wrists. You are one ugly mother fucker He thought, sliding his hands into his boxers. His skin was warm and the cotton fabric was soft against his own hands. He sighed slightly, wishing it were a woman's hands instead, and then pushed the boxers down to his ankles.

The water was cool and inviting. Basta slid through the river as fast as a fish. As he surfaced, his hair plastered to his face and water streamed off his skin. His feet nestled amongst the chilly pebbles, and the river whooshed around his body. What a perfect day.

He had fallen asleep on the river bank. When he awoke, night had already fallen. He finished dressing, pulling on his shirt, but didn't bother with his jacket. He flung it over his arm and trudged up the hill to the village. He stomach grumbled, demanding fuel. The streets were quiet and empty, as if not a soul existed. Basta decided to take a short-cut through a long alley, so he could get to his house- and the food- faster. On his way through, though, he heard something move. Thinking it was just a cat, Basta took no notice. He just walked on, sighing in content to himself. Then a figure appeared, just a silhouette in the moonlight, taking stance at the end of the alley. No threat. But something moved behind him. He looked over his shoulder, only to meet a fist in his face.

"OW!" he cried, his hands flying up to his nose, which oozed warm blood. "What was that for?" Someone kicked him in the back. Basta fell onto his knees, confused and angry. Before he could muster much of another word, though, his arms were grabbed and shoved behind his back. Someone used his jacket to bind them together. "WHAT THE FUCK!" he roared before a scratchy cloth was shoved into his mouth. Duct tape was wrapped around his lips, keeping the cloth in place. He could no longer scream. He threw his head about wildly, trying to see his attackers. He had two at his arms, and another one was standing by. The one that had gagged him. Leave me alone! He screamed in his mind. I'm tired and hungry! Leave me alone! Then the unthinkable happened. With the two men on either of his side holding his arms out straight and tight, the other man reached around Basta's waist, and groped harshly over his belt buckle. FUCK! Was the only word he could truly think of at that moment. To his horror, tears threatened to come. Basta squished up his eyes, a deep moan turned into a sob, muffled by the gag. He pants were jerked down, along with his boxers. The men laughed cruelly on either of his sides. One strong hand was pressed on his back, and with the clinking of metal, Basta figured the other one was undoing the belt buckle on his attacker's pants. NO! He though, tears coming from his eyes now. He fought hard, but he was too exhausted and hungry to put up much of a fuss. He felt something against him, now, something he really didn't ever expect to feel. Oh jeeze oh fuck no! NO! He kicked his legs best he could, which earned him a couple knees to the face. He finally gave up hated himself for getting raped.... a hiccup turned into a snort since the gag was shoved so far down his throat. He needed to vomit.