A lot of you have come to the conclusion of "an army of Dan's." I can't confirm or deny whether that is true or not, however I can admit laughed a little. I take amusement in things like this (I know, I know. I promise I'm not Satan.)

Dan's P.O.V

"What on earth are you doing to him?"

My eyes were scrunched up to help block out the pain, and I couldn't help but flinch at the unfamiliar voice. I didn't think I could deal with anymore beatings. I'd lost count of how many days it had been since I saw daylight, since I'd seen Phil.

Thinking of him only hurt my heart, and I pushed him to the back of my head. Phil was reserved for dreams; I had too much to concentrate on as it was.

"We have orders from your father, sir."

"And those orders are to kill the poor boy?"

"No, sir."

"Well, if you keep beating him that is what will happen. You will leave him alone right this second. I want him untied, and ungagged; and some first aid equipment brought immediately."

"But sir...your father..."

"Will hear about this if you do not follow my orders. I do not believe he will be too impressed if he finds out that you disobeyed me. My father may not be good for much, but he does listen to me."

I found myself surprised at the unknown voice, and the tone of it. I hadn't found anyone who was other than harmful towards me, and here it seemed whoever belonged to the anonymous voice was intending to help; or at the very least prevent any more harm being done.

The ropes around my hand were loosened, not removed entirely but at least the blood could run through properly now. The gag was removed from my mouth, and I gasped, breathing in sweet oxygen. I kept my eyes shut. I'd come to regret opening them.

The heavy footfalls of my torturers faded away, returning with something, the first aid kit probably.

"Go stand at the door. I want to spend some time alone with him, try and mend the damage you've caused."

There was venom laced in the voice, the tone harsher. The two men replied each with a quiet 'yes sir'.

I felt a gentle hand placed on top of mine. It was soft, and my hand wasn't being squeezed or crushed; yet shivers still ran down my spine, and my body began trembling.

"Hush now. Do not panic. I am not here to hurt you. I want to help."

The voice, which I now recognised as a male's, was soothing and calming. I had trouble believing him however. It's not like I had been treated royally recently.

"I am going to start cleaning your cuts. I will work on your hands and wrists first, alright?"

I didn't make any move. The stranger took my silence as a yes, rubbing a cold cloth along my left wrist. There must have been an antiseptic of some sort on there, because my wrist began to sting. I winced; no matter how much I had received of late, I still wasn't used to pain. I heard a low hiss, and then a rushed apology. Soft fingers ran up my arm, in one of the only places that wasn't bruised.

"I do not mean to hurt you. I promise, I only intend to help. You were not supposed to be hurt like this; you were not supposed to be hurt at all."

I opened my eyes a crack, squinting. My...helper was thin, scarily so; and the left side of his face had been caked in makeup. I could see scars and burns hidden underneath; if I hadn't of been so close, I wouldn't have noticed. That's probably how he wanted it. I felt sympathy flowing up; it couldn't be comfortable, and it seemed he wore makeup to cover it up. Obviously it was bad. I also felt empathy; I knew what it was like to have scars, to be hurt. To want to hide yourself from everyone; including yourself.

His eyes were bright green, the scars surrounding them; making them more pronounced. His hair was blond, long enough to cover his face. It had been tucked behind his ears, some strands falling down as he bent over my wrists.

His fingers were long and thin. I noticed the state of my wrists as I observed him; they looked as bad as they felt. Red and marked from where the ropes had been tightened; the skin underneath was broken, from at the start when I had attempted to wriggle free. I had given that up quickly.

The dried and stale blood was wiped away with the cloth. He moved onto my right wrist. I had kept my eyes open, and as he turned his gaze caught mine. It was too late to pretend I wasn't looking; instead I shrunk back into the chair.

"It's okay. I'm here to help. I'm sorry you were hurt so badly." He cleaned as he spoke, and the gentleness with which he did both, calmed me down a little.

"My father gives orders that only have benefits for himself, and on occasion me. But that is mostly to ease his guilt. His dim-witted, brainless brutes follow each order to the letter; either not caring or not willing to think about what it means for those the orders are acted upon. As you can see, I know what it is like to be...attacked."

I shuddered at the memory, and he gave me a sympathetic smile.

"It's alright. You will be in my care now. They won't hurt you anymore."

He brushed the cloth against my cheek, under my eyes were I'm sure bruises were.

"My name is Julian." He said, slowly.

The name sounded familiar, but I didn't concentrate on it for long. I would have time to think about it later. It never helped to dwell on things for long anymore. Not unless I was alone.

"D...D...Dan." I croaked. Days of screaming and crying had left my voice hoarse, and I hadn't used it for a while, for fear of what would happen if I did speak.

Julian smiled, happy with my response.

"Why?" I asked, hoping Julian would understand.

"Why...why am I helping you?" He asked. I tilted my head down slowly, as much of a nod as I could manage.

"Because, they messed with perfection. I need to fix that, fix you."

His smile grew, and I saw a flash of lunacy in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered. "So alike Ryan."

It struck me then. Why the name sounded familiar. I looked at him closer, and was instantly hit with all the memories. The phone call, my mum's distant sobbing; the rain pouring down my neck, saturating my clothes as I stared at the solemn mound of dirt. And Julian's face, one half red and raw, his eyes teary and distant.

He was familiar. And I knew him.

I just never thought I would see him again.

Did you guys like that little insight into Dan's...situation? And what about Julian? Psychotic, neurotic? Genius? Let me know!

Review-Reply Thingy!

Insertcleverscreenname: Thank you. Soon you will. (Also, awesome username )

Guest: Well, the wait is over. I hope it hasn't killed you too badly. Um...I can't really answer that question. I hope it's because it is good, but I'm not really one to judge on why.

WitbeyondmeasureXOX: I don't know. He might be okay...but then he might not.

Phanstarlight: Then I'm doing a good job! You're not supposed to understand everything immediately. That would give away the whole plot and ruin the story. As long as it was used for good and not evil, I imagine a mini army of Dan's would be pretty cool.

LovesReading: I'm sure that with a few more chapters it will make sense. (Hopefully). I don't know why anyone would need a mini army of Dan's. And, as the news report said; they're all dead anyway. I don't think that's going to happen, fortunately.

NeverlandNat: They uh...they did. Did, of course, being the operative word. I'm super happy you're enjoying it. Though, I don't know how I'm supposed to help.

Flamingoskull123: Thank you. I'd like to help that my obsession with Criminal Minds is helping in some way. Thank you, I'm really glad you're enjoying it.