Disclaimer: None of the Savant World/the Benedicts belong to me – all rights to Joss Stirling.

Thank you for all your lovely reviews on both this story and the Muppet Show. Reviews make my day and inspire and motivate me to keep on writing.

WARNING: There are descriptions of violence (& its consequences later on) so it might be a bit too graphic though I've tried to keep it as … okay as possible :)

Chapter Six – Vic POV

The thing that jolts me back into the real world is an oblivious soldier who bumps into me, not having realised that I'd stopped abruptly. Lieutenant Russell slows down as well and turns around to give me a questioning look.

"I heard something" I whisper and swing my head around to look at the surrounding buildings and clay huts. As if that can tell me anything.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Russell roll his eyes and he lets out a barely audible sigh.

"Kid, this isn't hide and seek we're playing. You can't say you heard something whenever a goddamn cat farts around here. I myself did not hear anything and I've been in the army for twenty years. Now, if we –"

"Shut up, I heard something."

I can hear the other soldiers' gasps at me talking to their superior like that but at the moment, I don't care. That scream, that scream was full of pain, despair and hopelessness. That scream came from my soulfinder. If Will were here, he could -

"Mr Benedict, why –"

"There." I call out and point at a rather large building at the end of the street, seemingly closed if the boards in front of the windows are anything to go by. A young boy appears out of a cul-de-sac running alongside the house though his eyes widen at the sight of us and he quickly scurries away into another small, run-down hut.

"How d'you know?"

Another soldier, about 18 years old I would have guessed, asks and I can tell he looks scared. So do the rest of them.

"I-"What was I gonna say? That the love of my life is being held captive there and it's pure gut feeling?

"Does it matter? I know she's in there so we have to go –"

"Mr Benedict." Russell's deep commanding voice stops me immediately.

"Yes, sir?" I respond and try not to sound too impatient.

"A word." He says and nods towards a sign post stating Farah being about four miles away.

"Look, sir. I know this doesn't quite follow procedure but you have to –"

"Why?"

"Why what?" I stutter and have to catch myself quickly. He cannot see me become flustered or confused.

"Why are you so intent, so eager to get Sergeant Andersson back?"

"I told you, she is important in an ongoing investigation of which the content is totally confidential."

"Is there any other level of confidential other than totally?" Russell asks with a scowl on his face as if

I've just treated him like a child. "Now answer the question properly, kiddo!"

I see the look in his eyes. He's just as eager to get Leah back, like a father he's worried about her. He looks me straight in the eye and I know I can't possibly lie to him any longer.

"Okay, there is another reason but Lieutenant, you have to trust me on this. I don't know Leah yet but she's already incredibly important to me and my family. And when we go in there" I don't even contemplate the idea of an 'if', "you'll probably see things that you can't explain with any physical or mathematical laws. I will act differently, the people inside will be acting differently but you have to promise me to not question any of it. It'll all be for Leah's best."

"Benedict, I'm in the army, I trust no one but my soldiers. And we're not gonna see freaking werewolves and vampires in there so what is it that can't be explained by Physics or Maths?"

"Sir, I'm truly sorry that I'm asking you for this but you have to – have to – trust me. We'll be doing the right thing." Trust me. I hate myself for it but as I see the confusion and irritating stare in his eyes clear, I know it's for the best.

"Alright, men..."

The sound is unbearable yet barely audible. The blood being splattered on the walls sickens me yet strengthens my resolve. Russell, who's just knocked out a guard he's just questioned, nods at me, saying nothing but "Court yard at the end of the main hall".

I run, somehow feeling a piece of me growing weaker and weaker, and when I reach the doorway, I don't think. Bursting through, I raise my rifle without taking a look at my surroundings first. A bunch of Afghan men stand around a stage, too enamoured by the action on it to have time to pull their weapons before I pull the trigger. The first bullet hits a young man's shoulder, the second a guard's ribcage, the third and fourth a slightly older man's legs. I lose count but I stop when I realise that I only have one more left, weapon raised, I walk closer to the stage. A guillotine… a guillotine standing tall and overpowering on the stage and from where I'm standing, I can only see tangles of hair that might have been blonde one day hanging through the head opening. It's her. It has to be. I know it. It's her.

"Victor Benedict"

My head snaps around to see a balding, mildly intimidating oompa-loompa waddling towards me. I lift my rifle a bit higher though that just makes him laugh.

"You're not going to shoot me."

"Let her go."

"Why should I?"

"She's mine." I growl through gritted teeth and mentally restrain my index finger from pressing down.

"So possessive, Benedict. I don't think she cares. You see, she told me in one of our … sessions, she, I quote, doesn't give a flying fuck about Victor Benedict."

I pretend it doesn't hurt. I pretend that hearing those words – and knowing on instinct that they're true – does not drive a piping hot spear through my soul.

Let her go.

I try not to let my surprise show as his eyes become slightly vacant and he gives the headsman a shake of the head. I sprint up on stage to catch her from toppling over after the opening is pulled up and flinch at the feel of her every bone under my fingers. Russell, who has just appeared in the archway, for once looks like he's feeling something. He rushes up the steps and quickly grabs her under her armpits, gesturing for me to grab her legs. As we move through the courtyard and towards the exit, with Leah's limp body swaying from side to side between us, I get a good look at her. Large bruises, deep cuts and barely healed flesh wounds make her facial features almost unrecognisable. Blood has crusted in her dirty and felted hair and her torn tank top and camouflage trousers are covered in dried blood, vomit and sweat. I work in law enforcement but I've never seen anything like this. Seeing my soulfinder, my other half so mangled and ill, builds up this enormous rage inside of me, one that I can barely control. Russell, who's probably seen my hands shaking, just says, "She'll be alright. She's tough."

I look back. I've still got one bullet. I aim. I pull the trigger.

I've always seen Victor as becoming slightly OOC when he finally meets his soulfinder but I'm not sure whether this is too much OOC or not at all so … Please let me know what you think in some (=a lot of) reviews – they mean a lot :)