Octavius was angry. Very angry. But that's how he'd been for years.

He stumbled around the unfamiliar woods blindly, growling, and the branches reached down like dragon claws to grab him. He made sure to snap all the branches in his reach, even if it slowed him down. "T! Come on! Get back!"

The soft sounds of the wildlife murmured around him, shadows getting longer and longer, pink streaking the sky, and clouds wisped through it like smoke. "Parent's going to get worried!" And they both would be lost if they ran around this place too much.

His heart was beating in his ears. It had been a long time since he had been in a forest alone. He could almost hear the beat of dragon wings and sweat trickled down his face. He had to get his brother before the dragon.

Octavius stumbled into a clearing, nearly falling into a pond, and musky smoke curled up from behind him. For a moment, he thought that the dragon was right behind him, ready to blast him with fire. He spun around, seeing his brother leaning on a tree, a burning cigarette between his fingers and his eyes slightly glazed.

His heart flared furiously.

"T, you told me you quit!"

Octavius made a wild swipe for the burning thing in his brother's hand, only to have Terentius expertly dodge, taking another drag. The green-haired elf had always been nimbler than his twin. "Yeah. And I started again. What's it to you?"

"You're going to get lung cancer and die! Do you want to break Parent's heart?!"

"You'd be the one breaking hearts if you tell, Eight." Terentius took another drag, the tip glowing so bright that the image was burned in Octavius's retinas. "Besides, I don't see why I should worry about it. I mean, you're going to eventually get in over your head and get killed, Parent's going to OD on those pills the psychiatrist piles on us, and I'm not going to have anyone left who'll miss me. There's nothing I need to do once you guys are gone, so I can just die."

"You'll still have to take care of T…" Octavius trailed off.

Oh. That's why he started again.

"Exactly." Terentius took another drag, glaring at the pond. "We don't have anyone else to look out for." The homemade cigarette burned away and he promptly took out another one from his pocket, taking a match from the same place and lighting it. "You remember when we taught her how to swim?"

"T, I don't want to talk about it."

Terentius took a drag, taking the cigarette out only to blow out a cloud of musky smoke, giving Octavius an impression of dragons that made his heart race, and the green-haired elf stuffed his lighter in his pocket. "We promised that we would help her out of whatever trouble she was in. I promised that." He leaned back further on the tree, his eyes red and leaking tears, the cigarette squashed in between his fingers. "I broke it."

"T, shut up. Just shut up." Octavius raised his fist, ready to hit his brother. "Shut up now."

"Why? You know, we haven't talked about her once. Haven't even said her name." Terentius took a drag and closed his eyes for a moment, just letting the tears roll and gather at his chin, dropping to the ground. "You want us to act like she never existed, Eight. Well, she did. And even if you're not sad, I am."

"SHUT UP!"

Octavius punched Terentius in the jaw, sending the green haired teenager to the ground, the cigarette still firmly between his lips.

"SHUT UP!"

He kicked his brother's stomach.

"SHUT UP!"

He grabbed a rock from the ground and raised it, eyes zeroing in on his twin's skull. Terentius didn't move to go away, instead, just smoking. "Go ahead. Do it."

Octavius froze.

He had just been about to kill his brother.

Octavius threw the rock away, face red. "Go back home."

"Oh yeah, home sounds great. Parent's strung out on antidepressants and crying in the kitchen. Do you have any idea how many times I've heard Parent calling out for Other Parent or Ti—"

"GO HOME!"

He started kicking again, and Terentius flinched away, scrambling up and slipping back into the forest before his brother cracked a rib. Whether he was going back home or not, Octavius didn't care.

"What about if you're not nearby when I'm drowning?"

"We're your big brothers, you little Oompa Loompa. No matter what mess you get yourself into, we'll always pull you out."

"We promise."

The words bounced around in his head like some mantra of guilt.

No. No, he didn't have to think about it. It was over. No need to think.

He was shaking. His walls had already crumbled from Terentius's assault. He couldn't stop thinking anymore.

Tiasal was dead.

His baby sister had needed him and he hadn't been there.

Numbness protected him for a moment. It wore away.

He let out a wounded howl, dropping to his knees at the edge of the pond. Once the tears started flowing, they wouldn't stop. His baby sister was dead. His silent Oompa Loompa.

And he hadn't even told her that he loved her.

He let out another furious shriek and started crying in earnest.

A half a mile away in each direction, his parent and brother were doing the same thing.

---

Tiasal came back to the Master's rooms when her muscles started clenching and she broke out into cold sweat.

She swung the door open, biting her lip in spasms and scratching hard at the needle marks on the inside of her elbow, suddenly feeling as though bugs were crawling beneath her skin. A familiar whispering in her ear was pleading with her to find her father and run away, and she could almost swear that Right-Eye was at her side, but she couldn't see him and if she had been able to, she would have tried to rip out his other eye, insubstantiality notwithstanding.

The room was empty, and there was furious shouting from where the children were supposed to sleep. The cleric didn't seem to be very happy. Probably because Tiasal was late.

Tiasal winced, flares of pain shooting through her thighs and bums in preparation, and she walked to the cupboard she saw the needles come out of, noting that it hadn't been locked up yet.

Fingers shaking, she pulled it open, pulling out one of the needles that looked like they had only a little liquid in them and wrapping a rubber band around her bicep the way Swift had. Her veins popped out like ropes, and she tried to stab one of them with the needle. With all of the tremors in her hand, it took three tries before she actually got a vein.

She let the liquid out and slumped quietly, waiting for the tremors to go away.

The floor started to shake with footsteps. Tiasal grabbed one of the unused needles and stuffed it away in the pockets of her clothes. She wanted one just incase.

The door slammed open, and Tiasal got a brief glimpse of frightened children in their room before Master lumbered out, rage making him look years younger and more threatening, eyes blazing.

"Threaten me, will he?! I'll show him blood payment!"

His eyes were glowing red and divine magic sparked from his fingers as he glared down at Tiasal, reaching down and grasping her shirt in a stone hard fist. "GET INTO MY ROOM NOW!"

An alarm was tripped in Tiasal's drug-addled brain. She didn't contain common sense, only instinct. Instinct told her to either fight or fly.

She turned heel and sprinted away so fast that her shirt was ripped apart from the cleric's grip.

"GET BACK HERE!"

Her feet hadn't lost the swiftness they had had in the field and the forest. They sent her speeding, but the cleric must have cast a spell because, despite his age, he was running after her. She quickened her pace, but it didn't seem to help at all and she was soon struggling to breathe deep.

Fingers grasped at the ends of her hair, yanking some of it out of her scalp. She couldn't bring herself to run faster. Even despite her pounding heart and her instinct screaming at her to keep fleeing, the drug moved through her system like oil, coaxing her to slow down and give in. Really, she was only making it worse for herself. It's not like she could get help. No one would save her. And really, how bad was a beating? Just a few lashes. He'd just give her a few lashes for being late and running away.

She was ready to stop.

"Oh, I don't think you should stop running. It's good for you, after all."

Tiasal looked up in confusion at a semi-translucent spectral elf running besides her, wild long purple hair that matched Tiasal's blowing back like fire and violet eyes sparking with concealed determination, the source of which Tiasal couldn't name.

"If you keep it up, you'll find safety soon."

Tiasal looked to her other side, seeing another semi-translucent dead elf running besides her, only with blue hair and fiery orange eyes. "He won't hurt you if you just run a little longer."

"It's a game, you see?" Now the purple-haired elf was talking. "If you run long enough and don't get tagged, you win, and the slime-ball won't be able to hurt you without your consent."

"We'll help you cheat in the game." The blue-haired elf held out his hand at the same time as the purple-haired elf. "We won't tell if you won't."

"Just take our hands."

The cleric made another swipe at her hair, his ragged breathing audible.

Tiasal grabbed the ghostly elves' hands and then she flew.

The wild scent of the forest and ever-expanding love breezed past as the elves ran with her, step by step, stride matched with stride, one. The cleric let out a furious shout, but Tiasal put her faith in these strangers to make good on their promise of safety.

Up ahead, Redcloak was making his way out of his study, a closed book nestled in the crook of his arm, and he looked up in confusion at the noise. Tiasal whizzed close, instinctively grinding to a halt and clamping hard against his side, hiding behind him and clinging like a koala. Redcloak glanced down at her quizzically, trying to puzzle out why she had apparently popped out of thin air shirtless and decided to use him as a shield, but when he looked up to see the cleric coming to a stop, his expression became deadly.

The two elves had disappeared.

The cleric panted softly, glaring at the goblin, and slowly straightened. "Lovely. A wonderful little attempt at staving off bedtime. Please give her to me—she still needs to brush her teeth."

"Why is my daughter running away from you without her shirt on?"

The cleric's eyes narrowed and he clacked his cane on the ground, leaning on it and catching his breath. "It tore off. Quite accidentally, I assure you."

"Tore off. Sure."

A growl was growing in her father's chest, and Tiasal instinctively tightened her grip on him, trying to communicate that the cleric hadn't just wanted to put her in bed.

He seemed to get the message. He looked like he was about to hit the cleric, but he just glanced back down at his daughter and twisted his finger in her hair gently. "You can leave now. I'll keep her tonight, and you can be certain of Xykon hearing about this."

"You can't take her away." The cleric hobbled forward, beady eyes narrow and glaring up at the goblin. "She's mine more than she is yours. Xykon will let me have her head if you take her away."

Tiasal could feel her father stiffen, but his face became a wrathful combination of red and green.

His knee came up, ramming the cleric between his legs with so much force that the human was in the air for a moment.

The cleric's eyes bugged out for a second and he fell to the floor, clutching the affected area and mouth opening and shutting with nothing coming out. He had stopped breathing, and he was curled in a fetal position, unable to do anything.

"I don't think I've ever done that to a man before. Good thing you're not a man." Redcloak sneered and picked up Tiasal, letting her wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

He turned away from the cleric and started walking down the hall, still growling softly.

"I thought that you're not supposed to do that," was the first thing Tiasal said. It was true. Whenever she tried that in a tussle with her brothers or male cousins, they were on the ground forever and all the adults gave her long lectures about how she was never allowed to do that to guys.

"It's a really cheap shot, but I figured it'd be the fastest way to get him down. You should never do it, except in his case." Redcloak hugged his daughter close, savoring the feel of her skin against his cheek. "In fact, if he ever asks you to take off your clothes again, kick him right there and run. If you do it hard enough, maybe he'll get sterile."

Tiasal frowned quizzically, but didn't inquire further.

"What did he do to you?"

The growl was still in his chest. Something told Tiasal's drug-addled brain that he wanted a full and complete answer.

"He wanted me to go to his room after I came back late from chores. I thought he would beat me again. I ran away and my shirt was ripped off."

"That's everything?"

That, and he gave her those needles… "Yeah."

Redcloak was quiet for a moment. "You're not going to spend another night with him. I promise."

Tiasal nodded absently, ready to rest her face in her father's neck and doze, but a little girl walking beside him made her pause. He was trying to trick her.

Not necessarily. He could just be deluded. He didn't show any signs of trying to lie.

Xykon had never lied to her and Xykon said that Redcloak hated her.

One could hate while caring.

But no one would ever care about her. They all hated her. She knew that.

Tiasal frowned, looking away from the little girl on the ground and tightening her grip on the goblin.

Redcloak opened the door to his room, revealing a desk with papers stacked on it, a wardrobe, a door to a bathroom, and a queen-sized bed. He put the little girl down slowly. "It's late. Too late for a kid your age to be up. Go and get ready for bed and I'll see if I can find a shirt you can sleep in."

Tiasal nodded, scampering to the bathroom. Redcloak took a moment to stare after her, trying to make sense of what was happening. His little girl had almost been raped. Now, for the first time in fifteen years, he had her to himself.

His hands were shaking a little as he opened his wardrobe and pulled out a shirt that Xykon or Tsukiko must have supplied. It was his size, but on Tiasal, it would work as a nightgown.

Should he try to talk to her? He wanted to get caught up so badly… but she was probably scared of him. He would be scared in the same situation. And it was nearly midnight—little girls should be asleep by nine at the very latest. He should let her sleep.

But Xykon wouldn't let him keep her in his room. As soon as Xykon found out about this, Tiasal would be taken away.

…But Xykon didn't have to find out. That cleric wouldn't say anything to him, for sure. Xykon would butcher him for disobeying his orders so blatantly. And Redcloak didn't have to say anything. It would deny him a chance to get that monster punished, but it would only be a punishment. And Tiasal would be taken away to somewhere where her father couldn't make sure that no one snuck in her room at night.

It left a bad taste in his mouth—with every night that the cleric wasn't hurt, another child was victimized—but it was the only way he could make sure his daughter was safe. With planning, he could do more later than he could do now.

The little girl came back, knocking him out of his reverie. He numbly held out a shirt. "You can sleep in this."

Tiasal nodded, taking it carefully. Redcloak swallowed awkwardly, turning away and taking off his armor. She shamelessly stripped her pants off, seeming completely at ease with being in naught but underwear with him, and took her time pulling on the shirt, no amount of urgency to her movements. That was a good sign. She wasn't afraid of him seeing her without clothes. That meant she hadn't been abused by the cleric, didn't it?

He still wasn't comfortable with letting her see him, though.

"Turn around and climb into bed for a second."

She shrugged and did as he said, probably picking up on the reason for it. Redcloak quickly changed into a pair of night pants and pulled on a night shirt, a little leery of sleeping shirtless with his daughter. He kept his cloak on.

He crawled under the covers with her hesitantly, unsure about her comfort level. She was watching him again, calculating but not afraid. He wanted to cuddle up to her and let her fall asleep in the safety of her daddy's arms, but he was still nervous about scaring her.

"Sweet dreams, Tiasal."

He ran a hand through her hair and lightly rested his arm across her waist protectively.

"…Sweet dreams."

She fell asleep quickly. Redcloak had a slightly more difficult time.

The scent of thyme, flowers, and the wind settled around him, wafting from the tiny girl beside him. He rested his face in her hair, savoring the closeness between them.

"What are you going to do now, my love?"

He looked to see that an imaginary Vaarsuvius was lying on the other side of Tiasal, her hair spilling on the pillow and blending in with their daughter's, her hand resting on his.

"You are going to need to save us alone. Tiasal must be protected, and if you escape with her, Xykon will likely throw my soul into the Snarl once he finds it. Or he will do something else cliché and heinous."

Redcloak concentrated on the imaginary white hand on his, and if he thought about it hard enough, he could almost feel his wife with him. "I'm not going to leave you, Vaarsuvius."

"Red, if it becomes a choice between me and Tiasal, remember that she is our priority. Always." The figment of his imagination leaned forward and brushed their lips together. He could almost feel her. "No matter what Xykon does or does not do to me, it is a thousand times worse if Tiasal is harmed. You know that I would say the same even if I were here."

Redcloak swallowed hard, staying silent.

"I know that you do not wish to make the decision yet. Just remember who is the most innocent." She kissed him again, already fading. "And no matter what you do, I will always love you."

She was gone; apparently, his brain decided that he had had enough of his hallucination-induced call to reality. (His mind had an odd way of working.)

His heart ached for Vaarsuvius, so he soothed himself by taking deep breaths of his daughter's scent. He may not have his whole family there, but at least he had Tiasal.

He slept fitfully that night.