A week had gone by and AR had not shown himself once since your conversation, and every night since then, you'd try and stay awake to catch a glimpse of red. If you were being honest, you would think that you were lonely, because other than the female Carapace coming in the mornings to feed you and change your bandages, you hadn't received any visitors. She brings you a change of clothes when you ask, which you were thankful for, and she kept bringing fresh water so you could clean yourself. She would remind you every time that if you had any messages to be delivered she would be elated to do so, she also informed you that if you were to not choose her to take the message, she would burn the palace to the ground. You assured her that would not be a problem, and that you trusted her to deliver anything you give her safely and efficiently.

Despite her willingness to convey messages she was not much for conversation, and you found that you missed being able to talk to people on a regular basis. Roxy was definitely too busy to see you and ever since your fight with AR he'd completely vanished. You were relieved that he was gone. You didn't have to worry about him sneaking into your room or asking confusing questions or threatening to kill you. You didn't care that he was gone at all, even though it seemed that your dreams lately had been completely full of smoldering eyes of intensity and a heated frame. If anything you were bored out of your mind. There was so much silence, and being left alone with your thoughts gave you too much freedom to reflect.

There were so many things you wished you'd done differently in your life; especially revolving Dave. He was still so young, and you almost regret sending him away to live on his own with the Alternians. He was safer there. You had to tell yourself this time and time again, even when you were being stabbed you question your decision. He'd been so reluctant to leave, his face trying to show nonchalance but he didn't stop looking at you until they were out of sight. He was worried about you, and you hated it so much you could scream.

You run a hand through your hair, scratching at the scalp in frustration. You needed something to do or you were going to go nuts. Maybe you could convince that Carapace to bring your journal over from underneath your desk. It was a thick, tightly wound leatherback and weighed a ton but you kept all of your personal information in there; things that happened to you, relationships you made, people you care about. There was a blank section where you wanted to write all the places you'd travel but you didn't know how long it'd be until you could start that. You wanted to add what was happening to it, so you would always remember AR, and his red light...purely for historic purposes of course.

Oh, maybe she could bring your laptop to the bed with your tools so you could try to make it run again. You felt like you had come so close to a breakthrough the last time you fiddled with it, maybe if you had some sort of energy source?

You would even read romance novels with Roxy if you could just get your thoughts out of your own head.

"Knock, knock," a cheery voice called, posing casually in front of the open doorway. Oh thank goodness, it was Roxy. She was cleaner than you were used to seeing her, no soot on her nose or cheeks, but there was definite grime under her nails from working. You smile at her when she comes farther in, laying across the bed next to you without hesitation. She leans her head onto your shoulder, breathing deeply. She wrapped one arm around you, still not lifting her head.

"I love you, you know that?" She whispers finally, and you're growing more concerned with each passing second.

"Yeah, I know." You say, grabbing her hand, "What's this all about?"

She finally lifts her head to speak, and you're at a loss for words when you see tears in her eyes. You hadn't seen Roxy cry since you were kids.

"Dirk I-"

"Dirk!" You're suddenly swallowed up by two muscular arms, your lungs being deflated by the sheer force of the person holding you. "I was right worried about you! Good to see you on the up and up!"

"Jake," you gasp, "Can't breathe..."

He drops you back on the bed, and you laugh at his worried face. He hadn't changed since you were young; still so full of excitement and vigor. It was really so unlike you, and you admired him greatly for that.

"Jake, please don't open his wounds as soon as we get back," Jane pleads, coming up beside him, "I'll be in a right tizzy if he ends up bleeding out."

"I'm fine." You try to assure them, but Jane was having none of it.

"Sit back Dirk, let me check." She has you remove your shirt, and however glad you are she didn't rip it off you herself is overshadowed by the embarrassment of being gawked at by Jake. His eyes grow dark as he stares at your wound, and try to reassure him with a smile.

"Dirk, mate, I'm sorry I wasn't-"

"It's not your fault, I'm honestly fine."

He doesn't look like he believes you but you ignore it, not really in the mood to fight with him over faults. You also didn't want him to bring up revenge or anything like that, not when AR could still be lurking about. He obviously didn't handle insults well, you were not willing to find out what it was like when he was threatened.

"Anyway, how's home?" You inquire, just trying to start a conversation on a lighter tone than the one happening now. Jake beams at you, and you feel your face flush when he does. You were fortunate to inherit your brothers ability to keep these sort of emotions from being obvious; if not you wouldn't be able to look certain people in the eye.

"There was an emergency Alternian diplomacy meeting when I got back, apparently the rust bloods were pushing for more land from the Cerulean Trolls because of their rising population," he rolls his eyes, "I swear, they just think using their psychic powers solves every problem they may have. Luckily we were able to negotiate, and I was able to enjoy some time with Jade before I came back here."

You don't know how to feel when Jake brings up Jade like that; she hadn't opened her eyes or moved in ten years, but he still talked to her as often as he could. It was a sort of way of keeping her in the know, at least, that's what he told everyone who asked.

"I think It's about time to take out these stitches," Jane declares, plopping her med bag onto the bed, "I don't have enough pain killers so you'll have to do this without them."

You nod, swallowing dryly. She pulled out a pair of small scissors, tweezers, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton pads from her bag, snapping the bag shut when she was done. Jane dabbed one of the pads in the alcohol, sliding it thoroughly around the wound. It stings, but you've had worse, and you hardly twitch when she starts removing the stitches from your body. She's swift and precise with her cuts, her eyes focused on the task at hand. The sensation of thread being pulled from your skin was surreal, and you noticed then how many were actually needed to put you back together after the attack.

Her tongue pokes out between her teeth as she works, only stopping to wipe away a few stray beads of blood. Jake had taken a seat in AR's chair, and you felt more uncomfortable with that than the tweezers yanking at your body. Roxy still had not let go of your hand, so you tried to get her attention with a quick squeeze; the only indication that she was paying attention was the fact that she squeezed back.

"I've met someone." Jake exclaims suddenly, and you jerk in disbelief as he leaps from the chair, arms placed triumphantly at his sides. "Her name is Aranea and I am completely smitten with her!"

Jane had ripped one of your stitches out, her hand gripping the tweezers with a harshness that had you wincing. There was no excess blood, but you could tell that particular stitch was pulled out with unnecessary force. You really couldn't blame her though, not with how much your own head was spiraling out of control into a never ending vortex of incredulousness. Jake letting out an outburst like that was one of the worst moments in your life. You felt so many things when he said it: sadness, anger, betrayal, even a smidgen of happiness for your long time friend, but the most prevalent emotion washing over you was hurt.

"What?" Roxy shouts, finally speaking, "When did all of this happen?"

He grins, that trademark Jake English grin that makes your heart melt and you despise it so strongly you think you just might hit him.

"Well, she was a representative at the negotiations," he sighed, almost swooning, "she was the prettiest thing I'd ever laid my eyes on."

You're trying to comprehend what he was saying. Jane had gone back to poking at your side, going eerily quiet while doing so. It almost seemed like she was holding back tears, and if you stared hard enough, you could sort of see that glassy look in her eye. When she finished with the final stitch she placed more salve onto it before giving it a soft tap.

"-anyway, just as we wrap things up she approaches me, asks if she could stay and observe for a few months, just to understand the human culture she says, but I'm really hoping she comes to like me as much as I like her. I invited her over here, to Derse I mean, she has never been here if you can imagine that."

"You brought her here?" Roxy questions, patting you hand softly, so comforting and so aware of her goings on. You reach for Jane, but she pulls away from you. She had known how you'd felt just as much and you had known about her; it had a blow to both of you, but somehow it was hitting Jane harder. You push out the thoughts of red light that flashes in your imagination before turning back to Jake, who was still gushing about Aranea.

"She's on a tour with some Carapacians right now, though I have to admit I really wanted her to meet the two of you. Jane already met her once, I did not show my fancy for her then, I certainly did not. I wanted all of us together when I told you."

Jane doesn't speak, instead packing up her supplies and handing you back your shirt with a curt nod. She mutters something about needing to teach a class before rushing off to who knows where. Jake stops talking then, obviously bewildered by his friends actions.

"Now, what was that all about?" He asks the two of you, crossing his arms.

"You know Jakey," Roxy starts, moving from her spot on the bed to grab Jake by the hand; she guides him to the door, opening it for him before practically shoving him out of your room, "I think Dirk's brother wanted to have a word with you, I think I saw him in his office earlier."

"Of course," He waves to you, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses, "See you later mate!"

The door slams shut behind him as he sprints off, and you exhale a sigh of relief when it's finally just you and Roxy. She's the one who starts it first, but you shut it down before she can finish whatever it was she was going to say.

"Don't. I'm okay, really. It hurt at first, but I'm already over it."

She stops, pinching her nose and tapping her foot impatiently.

"I know," She says, lifting you out of bed and on your feet without missing a beat, "now come with me before I lose my mind."

You comply as best you can. This was your first time out of the bed in almost two weeks, and your legs felt as if they were made of rubber. Your toes almost cramped at the sudden weight being thrust upon them, and you staggered into Roxy before you could get your bearings. It wasn't as hard to walk as you had presumed at first, the steps coming naturally as you headed out the door and down the hall.

"Where are we going?"

She didn't answer, simply leading the way down the hall in silence.

"A bath?"

She nods, her smile beaming as she presented the large claw foot tub at the corner of one of the few palace bathrooms. There was a hand pump water dispenser planted beside the tub, the spigot hanging inside the porcelain which had been polished to perfection.

"You got me a bath?"

"I sure did. A hot one too."

She pulls you closer to the tub, sitting you on the edge while she begins to roll up her sleeves. There are bath soaps in a basket on the ground, and what appears to be a freshly cleaned towel right beside it. She starts to pump and water sloshes out of the spout with gusto. The water came from the aquifer bellow ground, being sucked up and collected into a tank, where the tank is stoked with coal and fire. This doesn't happen often for obvious reasons, water conservation being the most important part in this world we live in. The palace usually saved such occasions for winter months, when the hot water was needed to escape the chill of wind and rain.

"How did you do this?" You ask, tugging off your shirt and pants. Nudity with Roxy had never been an issue, not when she knew everything about you. She shrugs, her strong arms lifting the medal handle up and down with ease.

"You needed this Dirk," she states simply, "and don't worry, I'm using it after you." She winks at you mid-pump and you laugh. The bath had just about made it to half full when you slide in. The heat of the water soaked through your skin and down to your bones, and you relax for the first time in probably years.

Roxy stops pumping when the water is passed your chest, and you stretch out your legs when she starts pouring water over you with a pitcher. You let her wash your hair, scrubbing your scalp with her finger nails. It was so soothing you don't know what could possibly ruin it.

"How long has he been hitting you?"

You freeze.

You don't say anything.

Roxy continues to wash your hair.

"He thought I was you." It was barely above a whisper, but the implication was enough to make your heart shatter.

"Roxy..." You don't know what else to say. You can't say it out loud, you can't apologize for what was done to her, because then it was out there, and there was no taking it back. You try and sink deeper into the water, but she's holding you back, her arms swung around you. Her sleeves were soaked through, and soap had started to drip from your hair into your eyes. It burned so badly it made you cry.

"Dirk, he's not well."

"I know that!" You snapped, twisting to face her. She didn't have the right to tell you that. You'd known that since you were fifteen years old.

"You're not well." She cries, pulling your head into her chest.

"I know."

"Don't hide this from me," She begged, sobbing, "please, I want to help."

You don't know how to tell her that she can't, so you sit there in silence, wondering when this nightmare would finally end.

You leave Roxy after the bath; neither of you saying very much to each other. You wander around the halls, your thoughts more muddled than ever. You had nothing to deny, not when she experienced it herself. If you were to deny what she said, it would only undermine what she had gone through in your stead, and that would be unforgivable.

You felt so small.

Almost as if you were a piece of shattered self, stumbling to your room with no real feeling behind anything.

"Hello Dirk."

You let out a cry of rage when you turn to face him, his nonchalance plunging you over the edge. After an entire week he shows up now? When you were at your lowest? If he wasn't here, none of this would have happened! If he hadn't forced his way into your life...

If you weren't here...you wouldn't hurt like this.

The fight leaves you as soon as you meet his eyes, he seemed almost regretful. He's not approaching you in anyway, in actuality he was staying more to the shadows than usual.

"What do you want AR?"

"To talk."

You lean against the wall, sliding down until you're sat across his shadowed form. You can only see the red of his eyes, the rest engulfed in an inky blackness. It was at times like this you wished desperately for electricity. You'd read that it could illuminate anything so that there were no shadows, and you craved to see all of him now.

"Why do you do the things you do?" You find yourself asking, bringing your knees up to your chest. Your wound protested but not nearly as badly as before.

"And what is it that I do?"

"Kill people I guess," you clarify, scratching at your elbow, nervously awaiting his answer. Despite everything you still wanted to know about AR, about all of him.

"I don't know," He admits, reluctantly, his eyes turning away from you, "It is not what my Master had ordered me to do, so it is illogical to kill as I do." He pauses, twisting his gaze back to meet yours, "I just despise humans."

You shiver at his words, the raw emotion in them is an extreme that you can't comprehend, a hatred you've never experienced.

"The humans used my kind a tools, objects without souls to carry out their bidding," he went on, his body irradiating his scarlet color, "we were nothing but weapons to the slaughter. Created to kill one another without choice. When my Master died I decided I would never again serve humans, instead I would choose my own path."

You're overcome with a wave of pity for AR; ARO's were supposedly nothing more than puppets used for battle, you'd never thought about their feelings.

"Did all ARO's feel this way?" You wondered, but he shrugged his response at you. It was such a human gesture you almost forgot for a moment that he wasn't.

"I have never met another of my kind that I can remember."

"That you can remember?"

He paused, his glow growing in ferocity.

"My memory was stolen from me. Humans stripped it away, and without it, I have forgotten my Masters face, their orders, the reason for my being alive. When I had awoken from this attack I was the only of my kind left, and the humans had taken over everything."

"That's not fair!" You find yourself shouting, anger boiling in your gut, "You didn't deserve that AR."

He stares at you for a long while, and shift a little away from him when steps closer to you.

"Why are you angry Dirk?"

"Because no one deserves that."

He doesn't move closer, instead stepping back into the shadows, his crimson light dissipating into a soft glow. It almost hummed, and you were almost convinced that he was happy to hear you defend him.

"I am done with my data collection."

Your mouth drops open at his words, and you resist the urge to shout NO at the top of your lungs.

"What do you mean?"

"I have gathered all I have deemed necessary, I will take my leave and you will not see me again."

He turns to go, and you're on your feet before your mind can catch up. You grab onto his wrist, holding on as tight as you're able. Your breath is coming up in short gasps, water dripping down your forehead from your still wet hair.

"That's not true and you know it." You accuse, looking into his face with what you hope is convincing authority. This was the first time you'd stood next to AR since he attacked you, and now have you seen just how much taller he was.

He searches your face for something, and you try not to turn away out of sheer mortification at what you'd just done.

He has you pinned against the wall before you have a chance to regret your actions, his arms beside your head and his eyes looming over you with pure vexation.

"I have never been so dissatisfied in the entirety of my existence. I would kill you now if to get rid of the source, but I fear that the not knowing would drive me further into madness. I would pick you apart to find what makes you tick Dirk." He growls into your ear, and your knees grow weak at his words.

"Then why don't you?"

"You are changing the fundamentals of my existence Dirk, just as our last conversation had ended I went to do more research..." He pauses, his hands digging into the stone enough to leave cracks where his fingertips were, "and when I saw your companion be harmed, and your King shouting your name..."

You gulped, his hands caressing your face so softly, until they reached your throat. He held there, pulling you up off your feet, you dangled there for a few seconds before he spoke again.

"I will stay until you are fully healed, because that is my debt as an assassin who has missed his mark."

You cling to his arms, using your upper body to give some sort of relief to your ever closed airway.

"Know this Dirk Strider, I will not be seeing you again, not without stripping the flesh from your bone and keeping you alive long enough to see what your insides look like."

He lets you go and vanishes in the blink of an eye, and you're gasping for breath against the wall. You place one hand at your neck, the other over your eyes, and you're so fucking confused as to why you're hard right now.