When Arlene's parents finally showed up, they had pitched their idea, almost to immediate vetoing. Though with some God-given luck, they had managed to convince them that this was a good idea. Dyme's five years of servitude went beautifully-no matter how many times he had been patronized or ruthlessly ordered around, he did his work dutifully and with a smile, never once talking back or showing signs of annoyance. At last, these long years were finally paying off: Dyme actually looked healthy and had a decent sum of money in his bank account (which wad a relatively recent development.) And at last - at long last - Arlene was legally an adult, and their dreams could be realized. All of this was going through Dyme's head as he hummed, knocking on Arlene's door to wish her a very happy birthday.

She recognised the knock at once; he had a gentleness about his knocks. She was at her desk writing her farewell note. She had decided her parents wouldn't care for a face-to-face goodbye. She only ever saw them at dinner nowadays. Sometimes they looked at her as if momentarily forgetting she was even there. She bade him enter and smiled at him. Dyme walked in, smiling back. He was still long and lanky like he was as a teen, but there was a new maturity about him, almost a confidence. "Happy birthday," he said warmly, walking up to her. "Got your things packed?" His own possesions had managed to fit into a suitcase and a cello case.

"That's a work in progress, heh." She got to her feet too and hugged him briefly before gesturing to the pair of cases on her bed. "I'm having another servant bring the rest along separately to save on us dragging it all. I have enough to last us about two weeks. The flight is booked."

Dyme smiled widely. "Great!" His hands clasped together, wringing nervously and excitedly. "I can't believe we're actually doing this!" His ocean-blue eyes sparkled in anticipation.

"We've not escaped until we're off the plane," Arlene reminded him, picking up her cases and setting them on the floor before picking up her note, signing it and putting it in an envelope. She laid it on her pillow, then beamed at him. "Ready?"

"Oh, don't rain on my parade," Dyme mock-pouted, unable to resist smiling again. "Ready."

She picked up her cases again and strode out of the room, being quick and quiet. "Did you bring your driving license?"

"Yep." Dyme picked up his suitcase and cello, which he'd left outside her door.

"Great. Lewis is going to drive us in the Jag to the airport, then drive on ahead to park her up at the villa." She put her bags in the footspace of the backseats then gestured for him to join her in the backseat as their driver took the wheel. Dyme scooted in next to her, cello taking up quite a bit of space but not enough to be awfully uncomfortable. "I know we're not really away yet, but I already feel kind of free," he grinned.

"You know what would totally complete the experience?"

"What?"

She said nothing and merely handed him a pair of sunglasses as the car started moving down the drive and into open lush countryside. Dyme burst into laughter as he put the sunglasses on. "I love you."

I love you too." She put on her own pair and rested an arm on the side of the car, laughing all the way down the road.

One reasonably lengthy jet ride later, and the two of them stood outside the villa. It was gorgeous, on the shore of a Pacific bay with white painted walls to reflect the sun's heat, and terracotta tiles on the roof. It wasn't a terribly big villa, but it was a fair size, in an irregular horseshoe shape on a plateau that in turn sat over a low cliff. It looked like an exotic fortress, complete with little low walls.

"...well, holy fucking shit. This is awesome."

She smiled and admitted, "I had it built especially, the first day out of hospital. You like it?"

"Do I like it?" He laughed and hugged her. "This is fantastic!"

"Whuah!" His hug had lifted her feet off the ground but she laughed too, patting his back. "Okay, okay, I get it! Lemme down so we can put our stuff in there!"

"Okay!"

He was trying to swallow uncontrollable giggles as he practically skipped to the car, grabbing his things. She shook her head and muttered fondly under her breath before fishing out the keys and strolling through the tropical flowers to unlock the door to the open plan lounge, kitchen and dining room. Leaving the door open for him, she wandered about. There were two bedrooms with double beds, though it seemed they both slept better with each other in the room, if not the bed. A small jacuzzi and barbeque were set up on the patio overlooking the beach and the sapphire seas, and even the bathroom was pretty classy. A distant "Ooh! Ooh! Nice!" was heard as Dyme gleefully explored the house. Arlene openly laughed as she went out to fetch the remaining bags. "Try not to break anything just yet!"

A loud, deliberate "oops!" was shouted back at her, followed by Dyme sprinting out merrily to help her.

She laughed harder and put her bags down, taking his hands and trying to calm his bounces. "Dyme, calm down."

Dyme merely picked her up and began to bounce in circles around the car. "I'm too happy!" She wailed and squealed in laughter the whole time then managed to pry loose and steady herself from the giddiness. "Christ, Dyme, if only you had that much energy chasing that pickpocket last week! I might still have that ring!"

"I said I was sorryyyyy!" Dyme half-wailed, grinning.

"I know you did, sweetheart," she chuckled, shaking her head. "But come on, we still have to unpack."

"Right!" Gathering up their bags, Dyme happily marched into the house, leaving Arlene to wave off their driver, then followed him inside the house, closing the door behind her. He seemed to have the energy, so she let him unpack whilst she explored a bedroom she decided was hers. "So what will the sleeping arrangements be?" she called. "We sleeping together or apart?"

"Dunno," Dyme called. "Maybe we'll adjust and sleep well apart. And what if we happen to bring home a friend?"

"Then we resort to the other bedrooooooo-waaaait, you're not going to go hunt down a boyfriend and leave me, are you?" She put on mock horror in her voice and gasped. "How could you?"

"Oh, as if!" Dyme grinned. "He is sure as hell coming here, and he will like it when we watch girly movies together."

"Have you been seeing someone behind my back? You sound pretty confident"

"If only!" Dyme said with a longing sigh, flopping back on his bed.

"Maybe we can go man-hunting together at one of these hot seaside clubs?" she offered, sitting on the bed with him and nudging him. Dyme sat bolt upright. "Yes." He grinned and giggled, rolling on his stomach and kicking his legs back and forth like a teenaged girl. Getting caught up in the mood, Arlene grabbed a pillow and lightly batted him with it, laughing.

Dyme gave a dramatic gasp. "You hit me."

"And whatcha gonna do about it, boyfriend?"

He answered by ruthlessly tickling her sides, grinning deviously. The pillows fell out of her hands and she sank onto the bed squealing in laughter, sunglasses knocked askew and hands frantically moving to defend her sides. Giggling madly, Dyme continued to assault her. "You don't mess with Dyme." She smiled and laughed and squealed, but eventually began to cough and held up a hand to stop him, the other holding her chest carefully. It may have been some time since the operation, and it may have been a total success, but her heart - Ricky's heart - was still fragile, and would be for the rest of her life. The scar twinging in ache, she lay still, keeping Dyme's hands at bay and opting instead to just chuckle at him.

"Brute," she murmured.

"Sorry," he apologized, flopping down besides her guiltily. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment before declaring "Let's get a cat."

"... we've been here five minutes."

"I'm just makin' plans! Get off my back, woman!"

"Says the one who was looming over me tickling." However she let him be and rested until the dull throb in her chest settled again. "So... really: do you like it?"

"I love it."

A little chuckle. "It's not that big... but it's ours, I guess."

"I don't care how big it is, so long as it is ours."

"Funded and contracted by yours truly, baby," Arlene assured, chuckling. "I have the deeds and original blueprints. It's ours, completely. I've signed all the documents, and I got you to sign what you needed to last year when you came of age."

"Well." Dyme sat up, smiling. "What shall we do now?"

"Well, we could finish unpacking... or just say 'fuck it' and continue fantasizing."

"Mmph: tempting...but I feel like it'll never get done if we don't do it now."

"... we live here. We'll have all the time of our lives to get it done."

"You know what? You're right."

"And you won't have to be my servant anymore," she pointed out. "So guess what..." She grinned and announced, "you can sleep in. Every. Morning."

A look of joy filled his eyes. "I hadn't thought of that!"

She laughed and hugged him. "Consider it a thank you for the rest of your life."

Dyme happily hugged her back. "You are so welcome, man."

"No more 5am starts," she cooed.

"I am not leaving my bed until five PM. And then I'm going to do whatever the hell I want."

"... I... u-uh... can't cook..." Arlene admitted awkwardly.

"Then I'll teach you, I learned how to on the job and I'm not half bad."

"Kay..." She smiled and closed her eyes, holding up a hand for him to listen. The water at the bottom of the cliff was slopping against the rocks at the base as the tide came in. Dyme sighed happily, closing his eyes too. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing the ocean...

"Now tell me honestly," the woman murmured, still with eyes shut. "Did you imagine this would be happening, when you approached me outside those apartments that night?"

"Not even. I thought I'd never cross paths with you again...that I'd die in a few years." He opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling. "...none of this would've happened if we'd not been kidnapped...would it?"

"... do you still get the nightmares?"

"...yes."

She put a hand in his and squeezed. "We can't ever thank Ian for what he did. But yes; if it wasn't for him we would have moved on from each other. Maybe hated each other a while before finally forgetting. You would still be in that awful city. I would still be a stuck up, horrible, unlovable kid..."

Dyme squeezed her hand back gently. "Yeah..." He smiled guiltily. "Sorry for making you think the left side of your body would fall off."

"Well, it was true to an extent... the heart is on the left, afterall." She gave a nervous, weak smile but it fell again and she rested her head a little on his shoulder with a sigh. "... do you think the nightmares will ever stop?"

"I don't know...maybe their numbers'll thin out...but it's just so...there..."

"What do yours involve?"

"..." Dyme bit his lip. "Well...there's when I was in...that room. And when Tuck got shot. And finding the skeleton under the bed...and when we tried to escape..." He shuddered. "A-and some aren't memories: there's getting dragged into hell by Ian or watching you get dragged into hell by him." He didn't even want to think about the ones with Keith. She nodded and sighed.

"... mine all involve Ricky."

Dyme looked at her. "I've got dreams with Ricky in them but they're all good dreams." He sighed sadly. "I miss him."

She didn't want to talk about the ones he appeared in for her. Instead she just nodded and murmured, "I... had him buried near here. We could drive over and visit him some day."

Dyme looked at her once more, looking a little surprised but mostly grateful. "...that was a wonderful thing to do..."

"We're the only family he really has left." Aside from Ian, but that didn't need to be said. Dyme nodded, finding his vision blurring slightly with tears. "...I'm glad I met you."

"Think you're the first to ever say that, except maybe Ricky."

The man nodded, not really knowing what to say. He settled for squeezing her hand once more, listening to the beautiful rush of the ocean. It was a serene, contemplative silence that followed. Safe, but troubled. Without a sound, Arlene eventually dozed off where she lay, accidentally claiming the bed he had already adopted. He didn't seem to mind and joined her slumber soon after.

The weather had turned stormy and gray, but Dyme's mood was undampened as he sauntered into their villa, making sure not to track mud and wet sand into their house. Unable to stop grinning, he hummed a cheery tune as he opened the fridge in search of food. Arlene was sat in bed, having a lazy day with a book. Some unfinished paintings were wedged into a small easel put away in the corner, with a small tabby kitten curled up at the foot of the bed in a turquoise collar. At Dyme's entrance, the kitten flicked her ears and yawned before trying to go back to sleep.

After nearly inhaling an apple, Dyme slid into Arlene's room, still grinning. "Helloooo." He bounced up to her, beaming. "Whatcha reading?"

"A laughable romance where some pitiful, dumb maid winds up getting married off to a 'god-like-man-of-your-dreams' lord despite him being somewhat of a player," she drawled, tossing the book aside and smiling in satisfaction as it fell into the trash can.

"Blecch, sounds like those awful Twilight books," Dyme said, wrinkling his nose-and yet still he was unable to keep from grinning for long

"You look happy," Arlene pointed out, reaching over to pluck up the kitten and put her into her lap to give Dyme room to sit on the bed with her. "Been on the beach again?"

Dyme sat down by her, smiling widely. "Well, yes..."

"... have you met a boyyyyy?"

"... maaaybeeeeeeeeee."

At once she gave a high gasp, eyes lighting up and face cracking into a smile. Not liking the noise and recognising 'that noise' as the bringer of bouncing and clapping, the kitten sprang away. Just in time: Arlene grasped his hands in a quick lunge and squealed, "ooooh myyy gaaawddd!" Dyme gave an equally effeminate squeal, giggling uncontrollably. "I know!"

"What's he like? How do you know him? Can I meet him? Is he gorgeous?"

"He's really nice but at the same time has this authoritative air about him, I met him during that music festival a couple of weeks ago, yes you can meet him, and - " He seized Arlene's wrist, going stock still and dead silent with wide eyes. " - he's beyond gorgeous."

She giggled again and gave him the kind of hug only gay men can enjoy from women, cuddling and nuzzling whilst laughing. "Oh my god, my little Dy is all growing up!"

"I'm so happy!" he trilled, cuddling her back. "We're going out to dinner on Friday."

"First date? Or..." she raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Have you been hiding behind my baaack?"

"I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut even if I wanted to," Dyme grinned. "First date, yeah."

"Would you like me to leave you the villa to yourselves that night?" she teased, ruffling his hair. Dyme turned bright red.

"Oh, as if we'll get that far in one night! Besides, you'll wanna hear all about it, won't you?"

"Absolutely!" She squealed again and hugged him tighter. Dyme happily held her, then looked down at her. "Think we should find you a man soon?"

"Mmmm, I already have one in my life that is quite irreplaceable," she mused cheerfully, poking his nose before laughing. "I'll live."

Dyme looked genuinely touched, beaming. "Awww!"

"That old lady at the market still insists we must be lovers, even when I told her in every subtle way possible you don't go that way." Arlene chuckled as the kitten came back, determined to regain her sleeping spot and sitting between them. Dyme laughed as he stroked the kitten's head. "Heh, well, that's probably what I'd think if I saw people in our position."

"S'not like we can explain ourselves, and hey, it worked in our favour when that jerk tried flirting with me."

"That's true..." Dyme frowned at the memory of that bastard. "Oh, it would've been so great if I punched him. Moron."

"I think the making out worked well enough. Though I can't believe you freaked out once it was over. I said I was sorry like, twenty million times!"

"You caught me by surprise! And imagine a girl started making out with you."

"... I still said sorry." She pouted, tickling the kitten under her chin and smiling at the purr it provoked.

"Bah, whatever." Dyme gave her a gentle, affectionate shove.

"Such a bully!" Arlene faked a gasp as she let the gentle force of it put her back against her pillows.

Dyme stuck his tongue out. "Baby."

"Oh shush."

Dyme flopped down beside her, careful not to jostle the kitten. "Sooo, whaddaya wanna do now?"

"Well, there's a storm heading this way, so we can't go out. And besides, you've only just got back in. Shall we watch a movie?"

"Sure. What shall we watch?"

"Hmmmmm... I'm thinking a musical. Then we can pour some wine, and dance shamelessly to the songs."

Dyme gasped. "Me too! 30's-40's musical or a more recent one?"

"Your choice, mister 'I got a boyfriend'," Arlene teased, bumping her forehead with his. Dyme grinned and then gasped again. "Funny Girl! Let's watch Funny Girl!"

"... do we even have that?"

Dyme pulled the DVD out of his large coat pocket. It still had cyran wrap and a tag on it. "Yes."

Arlene blinked, then laughed. "Okay, you planned this, didn't you?" However, she got out of bed, picking the kitten up with her and poking him in the neck before running off so he couldn't retaliate.

"Maybeee!" Dyme squealed and instinctively pulled his head back: he too was quite ticklish. "Arleeene!" He jumped to his feet and darted off in the direction she'd gone. The kitten had been put down, confused and wide eyed by the sudden moving and shouting. Arlene had hidden herself in the airing cupboard. Dyme huffed. "Arlene, where are you?"

His only answer was the girl pouncing out at him with a loud, "Raaghrgh!" Dyme shrieked in surprise, nearly instinctively punching her. She laughed and fell onto her behind, but then began to cough and wheeze, holding her chest. "S-so... worth it..." she chuckled breathlessly. Dyme helped her up, scowling. "Awww... heh heh... Hee... cheer... cheer up...!"

Dyme simply picked her up and began to walk to the living room. "Meh."

"Thanks..." She gathered her breath and felt her chest loosening again. "Think we scared the baby," she chuckled, referring to the kitten who had bolted.

"Heh, she'll adjust," he chuckled, plopping down onto the couch.

"We still need to name her. And no, we are not calling her 'Steve'."

"It was a joke."

She laughed and leant over to read the back of the DVD, waving a hand dismissively in his face. "Gotta name her something nice."

"'Lady' is too much of a dog name, isn't it?"

"Just a bit. I was thinking Penny. It's a pretty name, and... well, I always felt bad that skeleton never got a family burial."

Dyme nodded, but that name still sent a thrill of fear through him when he thought back to his sister-who had also been named Penny. She'd been far more frightening than his mother.

"... something wrong?"

Dyme looked a bit uncomfortable but still shook his head. "I'm just being silly."

"... Let's not go for Penny." She wasn't sure what was bothering him, but she could take a few guesses and decided to avoid upsetting him further. "Rosie is a nice name."

"I like Rosie," Dyme murmured, grateful that she had not pressed him to tell her of his discomfort.

"We'll go with Rosie then. Now are we going to get drunk and watch this movie or not?"

Dyme grinned. "Hell yeah!"

"Then set it up, and I'll grab us the wine." Arlene ruffled his hair, then got to her feet to rummage in the kitchen. "Red or white?"

"You pick!" Dyme tore the cyran wrap off of the DVD and jumped up to pop it in the player, making sure the TV was on and on the right input. Arlene merely returned with a bottle of both, and two crystal glasses for them. She didn't sit back down completely though and disappeared back into the kitchen before returning with a little present she had got him: a miniature chocolate fountain, complete with a bowl of marshmallows and toothpicks.

Dyme's jaw dropped. "I love you."

"It's our sixth anniversary," she informed, giggling. "Thought I'd get something special."

"It's a real wonder that old woman thinks we're lovers," Dyme chuckled, beaming.

"By the way, if this new guy doesn't treat you nicer than I treat you, you are forbidden on pain of breaking my heart from seeing him. So there." She sat down and helped herself to a chocolatey marshmallow before leaning back to watch the start of the movie.

Dyme laughed. "I'll keep that in mind..." He took a marshmallow for himself, unable to resist humming the opening theme. Arlene kept quiet for the sake of spending quality time with him, despite her not really getting into the film. However, she relaxed and was content to sit there eating chocolate marshmallows and sipping wine. When the movie was finally over - it was rather long - Dyme gave a sigh of content, full of marshmallows and wine. And joy. Arlene was asleep, head on his shoulder and a certain sleepy kitten in her lap.

Dyme smiled at them, gently patting the kitten's head before getting up to put the wine and chocolate fountain away, careful not to jostle the two. It was dark out, and there was a gloomy drizzle, making the waves churn grumpily. From the sofa, Arlene sighed in her sleep, whilst Rosie - disturbed by Dyme's movement - jumped off her and stalked him, mewing for attention. Dyme soon returned, smiling at the kitten.

"Hey there." He kneeled down by her, scratching under her chin. The little cat purred richly like a motorboat and licked his hand. Dyme smiled at Rosie, tickled when her rough tongue licked his palm. "You're adorable."

Her only response was to move so his hand rubbed along her back and tail, rubbing herself against his knees then mewing squeakily again.

"Gah," Dyme picked up Rosie and snuggled her, standing up and walking to his room. He retrieved a long bit of ribbon with bright feathers on the end and dangled it in front of Rosie's face, inviting her to play. She stared at it as if it had just sprung out of thin air. Her eyes dilated and went wide. The tip of her tail twitched, and she scrunched herself up on her backside... wriggled... then faceplanted at it.

Dyme giggled, tugging it juuust out of reach. "So close." Her tail was spazzing now, as she lunged again, then began patting at the toy whilst flat on her belly. Dyme let her wrangle it in her claws before pulling it a leap above her head. She almost flipped, eyes startled and back curving to watch its movements, then latch a claw on it, instantly bringing it to her mouth to gnaw. He dropped it, content to let her have her way with it for a while. Rosie bunched up her hind legs to kick the captured toy, chewing it and licking it between random flailing at invisible things she thought she saw... before resuming attacking the toy. As she did that, Arlene shuffled into the room, looking tired and troubled.

Dyme looked up, frowning at her expression. "What's wrong?"

"Had a nightmare... about Keith."

Wordlessly, Dyme strode over and hugged her tightly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"... I don't know... I've always wanted to talk about it, but... I sort of hoped it would go away..." She hugged back, sighing softly.

"Maybe it'll help if you talk about it?"

She bit her lip, then pulled away from him, drifting back to the sofa and pouring herself another glass of wine and taking a long drink. Dyme quietly followed her out, wanting to make her feel better but not quite sure how. She sat on the sofa and played with her hands in her lap. "It... it was basically re-living what he did after you escaped."

Dyme nodded, taking a seat beside her. He had never learned just what Keith had done, and he had never forced Arlene to tell him in fear of bringing up painful memories. She didn't seem keen to say anything of it even now, but sighed and lay with her head in his lap. "... I just remember wishing you would come back. Every second. I thought I was going to die. It's stupid to think about it now..."

"I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner..." Dyme's voice was quiet but filled with emotion.

Arlene shook her head. "You did wonders enough for me then. You couldn't have done much more."

"I just...can't help wishing I'd done it all...I know there was no way I could've, but..."

"Keith would have gotten you too. You mustn't think about what might have happened otherwise."

Dyme nodded, eyes misty. "Okay."

Arlene sighed gently, then swallowed. "... y'know earlier when you said we should find me a boyfriend?" The man nodded silently, looking at her. She wrung her hands, looking sickly. "I... I don't ever want a man to remind me about... Keith... I... I don't want to have the flashbacks if someone ever got close in that way."

Dyme's stomach lurched violently as his most dreaded suspicions were confirmed. "I...see..." Before he knew it, he was hugging Arlene tightly and feeling as though he was a lost, scared teenager again. She readily accepted his embrace and clung. But the most she did was give a half-second shudder and murmur, "I'm sorry to put this on you... but do you understand now how special you are, to even have me let you hold me? If you ever meet a guy and know he's the one, all I ask is you'll think of me."

Dyme nodded. "Of course I will. You're my best friend, Arlene."

"Thank you." She sighed in relief then eventually pulled back, looking at her hands in her lap. Dyme felt as though a great weight had been placed on him, but he hoped it was because he had lifted it off of Arlene. She was aware this was a heavy moment, and cleared her throat, forcing a smile. "Pillow fight?" she offered.

Dyme looked at her, face expressionless as he grabbed a pillow and gently whacked her in the stomach. She laughed and groped about behind her for a weapon of her own, settling on a small plush cushion and whapping it on his head. He grinned and put a pillow over her face, smothering her-non-lethally of course. Her retaliation was to drop her cushion and tickle him.

"Aw no way!" Dyme let out a raucous peel of laughter and jerked, flinging the pillow away. Seizing her chance, Arlene sat up and pounced on him, tickling more and more and laughing herself. He squealed, thrashing about and protesting. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry!"

She pulled back but was ready to use the 'weak heart' excuse should he try and get revenge. Still giggling, Dyme sat up. "Crazy person."

"Heh heh, but you love it."

"Maybe."

She laughed and was about to start a second round, when the phone rang.

It was a hardly used thing, and they'd only even invested in one in case of emergencies, and trying job interviews, but had never given out the number to anyone else. Looking up at it, Arlene glanced at Dyme, then got up to answer it. Dyme wondered vaguely if it was for him-he'd forgotten to mention he'd given Jack his phone number.

"Hello, this is Miss Summers, who is speaking please?"

"Hello, Emily. My haven't you grown into a fine young lady. David's grown too. But you ran from home. That's not very respectful to your Father, is it?"

Arlene froze, blood running cold. Keep it together, keep it together.

"If this is a prank, then kindly hang up now, because that is my and Dyme's own business about what happened, and we've moved on, so whatever creep you are, probably holed up somewhere with a shrine of newspaper cutting or some other shit, leave us alo-"

"Look up."

She trembled and flicked her eyes up. Ian was staring through the window at her on a cell phone.

Her shriek almost broke the glass.

Dyme had instantly rushed to see what the matter was. His face turned completely white, stopping breathing completely for a second. Before he knew it, he had flung open the window and lunged at Ian, shaking hands around his neck as he pinned him down. "L-leave," he hissed, but his fear couldn't be more apparent as his entire body was wracked with shakes and violent trembles.

Ian calmly gazed back. He looked a lot older. He'd got a few grey hairs now. He wasn't smiling, but nor did he seem angry. He seemed almost sad, straining his neck to defend against Dyme's shaken throttling. "Come home, children... I have lots of new brothers and sisters for you. You can be the elder siblings, like Ricky and Keith."

"Y-you seriously think we'd go back? Back to that hell?" Dyme shouted, feeling weak and sick. "You're completely insane!"

"Stop shouting. You're upsetting your sister."

Arlene was clutching her chest, in pain and trying with all her might to calm down and avoid giving herself a heart-attack. "D...dym...e... my medi...cation...!"

Dyme didn't hesitate in leaping off of Ian and dragging Arlene as quickly as possible to her room, digging out her medication. "I-it's right here," he cried shakily, having difficulty opening the bottle. This was insane. She was wide-eyed and sweating, breathing hoarse and getting harder by the second. A rigid hand with equally rigid fingers groped the air in desperation for him to hurry.

Ian, meanwhile, was calmly getting to his feet, dusting himself down, then cricking his neck, striding into the house.

Dyme managed to get the damn thing open, extracting a pill and getting it into Arlene's mouth, not wanting to risk waiting for her to do it herself. She lay back, whimpering as she took it, and could do little else but slump and let it do its work. She was still panting hard, but now she wasn't in obvious panic and her fitful, stiff contorting had ceased.

Ian was rifling through their kitchen, picking up a knife and smiling before putting it in his belt.

Dyme looked beyond terrified, breathing hard and shaking. This can't be happening oh God it isn't happening this is a horrible dream that I will wake up from because THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!

"So David," Ian mused calmly, in the doorway and watching Arlene recovering. "I trust you've been supporting your little sister properly. She looks to be of poor health. I think you might need help looking after her. I have the means to do so."

Dyme whirled around, absolutely livid as he advanced on Ian, ready to fight him off. "Get. Out."

"Why should I? I'm your father. It's you who obeys me, not I who obey you."

"How dare you," Dyme said in a trembling whisper. "How DARE you! How dare you kidnap us, terrorize us into complying with your sick wants, try to erase all that we are and still call yourself our father!"

"Everything I've ever done was out of love, David..."

"Love? Love? That was no love you felt for us! And we never felt any for you! Do you think we meant it and felt good every time we called you 'dad' or said we loved you? Because you'd be sadly mistaken!"

Ian laughed sadly. "And this is why I was reluctant to let you all go: without my guidance, you become angry and confused about your lives." The psychopath shook his head, amused and saddened, as he moved around the bed and stroked Arlene's hair. "Look at the mess poor Emily is in... and look at you, David: so hysterical. Come home. I'll make it all better again."

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Dyme screamed, throat blistering from the force of it as he dragged Ian away from Arlene. The man pulled out the knife, eyes suddenly glinting with madness. Dyme saw it but didn't care, continuing to drag him as far away as possible from Arlene. In the struggle that followed, Ian thrust it into his side, keeping it there painfully deep up to the hilt. Dyme cried out in pain, grip faltering for an instant before panickedly regaining strength. And still he valiantly continued to drag Ian away, though with difficulty. Seeing the young man was determined to disobey him, Ian wrenched it out of his stomach and pinned Dyme to the ground, trying to cut Dyme's throat.

"Dad..."

He froze, opting instead to bash Dyme across the face to knock him out briefly. He rose to his feet. Arlene lay on the bed, grey and shaking. An arm was out for him to hold her. "I feel so sick... Make it go away, Daddy..." She looked ready to faint form terror, but held her nerve and her gaze.

His face fell into one of soothing sympathy, and he approached her, crawling onto the bed to embrace her. He had dropped the knife near Dyme, leaving his back exposed. What did it matter? His little girl was crying out for him. She needed his embrace, his closeness. Never mind that was he engulfed her in a cuddle, she was whimpering with tears in her eyes, body flinching.

Dyme awoke but moments later, struggling to his feet, knife in hand. Upon seeing Ian distracted, he gave him a short, shallow stab-not deep enough to kill-and threw the knife away, attacking him once more to wrench him from his friend and give them time. He looked at Arlene with an urgency that clearly said get help!

Arlene was still weak, but she tried. She rolled off the bed, coughing, and half-crawled, half-limped to the phone to call the police. Dyme continued to fend off Ian, feeling as though his sanity was slipping by with the minutes.

Arlene made it into the hall, scrambling up the wall and was now sobbing into the phone. Ian managed to get a decent grip on Dyme and slammed him down onto his back, sticking the knife through his arm to pin him to the floor, then getting up to wrench Arlene from the phone. Dyme struggled violently, only worsening his situation. "Hurry!" he screamed.

Arlene could only scream as Ian hoisted her up and tried carrying her out of the house, kicking and thumping at his spine. In a desperate bid for freedom, she picked up a lamp and smashed it on his head. He still didn't let go, but he stumbled a bit, dazed and in pain. She shrieked for Dyme, now trying to hit Ian again. Dyme wrenched the knife out of his arm, clutching it as he stumbled over, dizzy from the blood loss. He gashed down Ian's back, then tore Arlene from his grasp. Oh God, please let the police come...

One of the many downfalls from living a little ways out on a pretty cliff: the roads were difficult for police cars, and they were some minutes walk away from anyone else.

Arlene was crying, but her main priority was to get away from Ian and take Dyme with her. She managed to haul them both into the bedroom where Rosie was hissing, fur on end. She managed to slam the door shut just as the maniac charged. The door lurched on its hinges and she screamed, but managed to hold it shut.

Dyme slammed his back against it, crying as well. "H-how did he know...?"

"We were in the news... our pictures, our names... our real names... I'm famous... he could have easily... oh God..." Arlene was wheezing again, fighting not to collapse: her medication was not available, she had to calm her heart.

Another jarring thud hit the door.

"Y-you're right..." Dyme gasped from the impact, knowing Arlene could not move for her medication. "Oh G-god."

A knife ploughed through the wood like a gunshot as splinters burst out the small hole. Arlene screamed.

Dyme yelped, realizing that they would have to move or risk knife wounds. "H-he's going to get in soon..." Dyme whispered in horror. Arlene couldn't answer, she was starting to have another pre-attack seizure. She slipped down the door.

"No!" Dyme's eyes widened in horror as he realized this impossible situation. "No, no, no, no!" He locked up, staring wide-eyed at Arlene.

Another knife stabbed through, a hand clawing in after and finding the handle, letting itself in.

This was it. This was the end. There were no more options, no more choices, no more chances. Dyme attacked Ian with everything he had as he entered, entirely incapable of conscious thought...

As the struggle blurred on, by the time the police arrived, Ian had Dyme on the bed, poised to thrust the knife into him. As men in uniform rushed in to tackle him off and drag him out of the room, a paramedic checked Dyme over as his companion found Arlene. Dyme was weakly struggling and trying to get to Arlene, sobbing. "Arlene...p-please...be okay..."

The paramedics began talking fast between each other, and another rushed in with a board to carry her to the awaiting ambulance. "Don't leave me," he whimpered, weakly reaching after her as she was taken away. A paramedic came back to led him into the ambulance, letting him know they would both require hospitalisation from their injuries. Arlene was being de-fibbed in the ambulance to restart her heart, whilst a paramedic performed CPR on and off. Dyme closed his eyes, but opened them fearfully when Ian's face seemed to burn out him. He began to whisper frightened nonsense, hyperventilating.

There was hope: as the ambulance was halfway to the hospital, Larxene's heart restarted, and better yet, she began breathing again. She was conscious, though her eyes remained shut and one of the paramedics instructed Dyme to hold her hand. He did so as if his life depended on it. "It's okay Arlene...we'll be okay..."

And they were. Arlene was kept in for a week to monitor her heart. Dyme was released after a couple of days once his wounds were properly treated. A kindly neighbour from the town near the beach had looked after Rosie and tidied the house so it looked good as new again. Arlene spent a lot of time resting, but with news that Ian was now locked up for good, she found the rest uninterrupted.

Dyme, conversely, was a nervous wreck for quite a few days, unable to absorb the fact that Ian couldn't hurt them anymore. He kept reliving the horrific incident and memories, even in his waking hours. It was only after his hallucinations and nightmares had become violently extreme did he consider seeking help. Arlene worried about him deeply, and when she could muster the energy, she shuffled to his room to watch over him, maybe keep his mind off things as best as she could. Today she planned to take him to the beach, even though she was still a little weak.

Dyme was currently trying to calm himself, breathing deeply and evenly to try and smooth his frazzled nerves. She had sat him along the shore, keeping hold of his hand and stroking it with her thumb. "... Dyme... please talk to me..."

"About what?" He knew perfectly well what, despite his feigned unknowingness.

"You're scaring me... ever since... that day... you haven't smiled once."

"...I'm just...a little shaken up still."

"We're both safe. He didn't get us. He'll never get us again." She put an arm around him and made him lean on her. "Why don't you go talk to that guy again: Jack, was it?"

Dyme nodded as she spoke, leaning gratefully against her. "I tried, but he's going through some tough stuff right now...family emergency, he said."

"Oh no... is there anything we can help with?"

Dyme shook his head. "I asked and he was grateful, but said there's nothing I could do." She nodded, then decided to keep him talking about Jack instead of thinking about Ian. "I still haven't met him. What's he like?"

The man managed a chuckle. "He's funny and sweet and genuine. He likes music, but doesn't play any instruments. He's got a fondness for animals."

"You two kissed yet?"

"No," Dyme said mournfully. "We're taking it pretty slow."

She chuckled and nudged him. "It'll just make it more amazing when it finally kicks off, yeah?"

Dyme smiled for the first time in a while. "Yeah."

"Then you can have gay babies and I'll be an Auntie."

Dyme gave a snort as a laugh burbled up out of him. Grinning at the sound, Larxene seized upon it and pulled him into a headlock, noogying him. "Just imagine the Christmases! All of us around the fire, the little gay-babies opening their presents while Daddy 1 and Daddy 2 smooch on the couch."

Dyme began to laugh harder, flailing. "Stop it!" he giggled, trying to escape the hold.

"Can I pleeeaaaaseeee be the bridesmaid?"

"Of course!"

"Good!" She let him go but gave him one last hair-ruffle. Dyme tried to fix his hair with little success, grinning. "Feel better?"

"Yes," Dyme said, hugging her gratefully. "...there...is something I should tell you."

"Hm?" She blinked and glanced at him.

"...my nightmares are getting extremely out of control...a-and I've even hallucinated..." He wasn't looking Arlene in the eye, fiddling with his hands now. "So I've been considering seeking help."

She swallowed and put a hand on his. "... Okay... Uh... you... you never mentioned this before... how long has this been happening, Dyme?"

"...since he showed up...I didn't tell you because you just seemed at peace, and I didn't want to ruin that with my problems."

"'Peace' is a very... over-generous way to describe it."

Dyme continued to look down at his feet, wringing his hands. "What would you call it?"

"Being scared into acceptance."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "...I think I just need to accept it."

"No," she said almost at once. "No, no I think it's good you're fighting it. I think you should go talk to someone about it. Someone other than me. Just... just get it out of your system as much as you can. I'll go with you, if you like."

"...okay..." Dyme murmured, taking her hand again. "Thank you."

"... do you want me to hire some security guards for the house?"

Dyme shook his head. "We don't have to go that far."

"... wanna sleep with me until the dreams get better?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." She hugged him again, then checked the time. "Hey, you wanna get some take out? I'm in the mood for something fattening and comforting."

"Yeah, I am too."

"... smile." She poked his stomach. Dyme's laugh turned into a wince of pain; his wound still hurt. She patted his back then got to her feet. "C'mon: let's get back home, order stupid amounts of pizza and soda, and sit in bed like lazy people."

"I do love pizza." Dyme followed suit, stretching as he stood.

"Then c'mon," she offered her his arm and chuckled. "Let's go."

Dyme smiled and hooked his arm with hers as they walked back to their home.