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Warnings: Parental abuse, distorted eating, religious abuse, PTSD flashbacks, exercise-based self harm, corporal punishment/assault references

Chapter 25

We had made plans. I had literally three kinds of backup. I'd have my sister beside me and everyone else waiting and Balance was likely strong enough to break the influence so the guys could use their armours.

Why was I still terrified?

Sage had tried to talk to me, over dinner, picking up on how much I was withdrawing. I'd stayed attempted cheerful throughout, rebuffing him in what I hoped was a gentle way. I knew he was hurting for me, I knew he was hurting for himself, but I didn't have anything in me to give. I stayed out of the kitchen and the main living spaces, trying to avoid the crowds. Cye made sure I had enough on my plate but otherwise left me alone.

We all went to sleep early, needing more rest despite how much some of us had slept. Admittedly, I hadn't slept any semblance of well, neither had the other traumatized members of the group— Sage, Ryo, and Rowen— so the hours of sleep mattered less. I tried not to toss and turn in the bed I shared with Tessa, desiring my own space more than anything.

I probably should've taken ativan, but I was scared of fogging up too much. For how high my anxiety was at this present moment I likely wouldn't, but irony of ironies that the slimmest possibility was overblown thanks to the very thing that ativan would stop. Sadly, fear won out and I was left with a twisting stomach and a mind that wouldn't shut up.

Eventually, I decided sleep was futile. Thankfully Tessa slept like a rock; she didn't even stir when I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.

One misstep on the creaky floors, however, and I couldn't say the same for other occupants of the house. I froze at the top of the stairs upon sensing Sage wake up and slip out of the guys' room. My chest deflated as he came and wrapped his arms around my shoulders trying to collapse on themselves.

His lips met the top of my head. 'I take it you don't want to talk about what's bothering you.'

I shook my head, one hand going up to his forearm to let him know I genuinely didn't mind the hug.

'Do you have any idea what is?'

Again, I shook my head. A partial lie, but everything that was bothering me wasn't forming into anything I could convey, at least not right now while I was still surrounded by people and feeling the energy of a too-active night.

He turned me so I was against his chest, enveloping me in his arms and holding me just tight enough I was pressed into him. 'At least take Halo with you, please?'

'You'll have an even harder time sleeping, then,' I replied, my own mental voice sounding like a murmur for how incoherent my thoughts were.

'Strata can act as a night light, with Rowen in the room.' Again his lips met my skin; my forehead, this time. 'I'll sleep worse if you don't have it.'

I wrapped my arms around him, about to offer Dusk only to feel him hush the thought with an insistence he was fine. I squeezed his chest. 'Sage…'

'Please.' He pulled back and offered the orb, one hand still on my shoulder. 'Take it.'

I stared at Halo before doing as he asked— pleaded, almost. His eyes spoke more than his voice, him needing to know I was alright. I almost wanted to ask him to join me, but I couldn't bring myself.

He seemed to understand how much I wanted to be left alone. A moment later, he was back in the guys' room, door shutting behind him.

I crept downstairs past the Warlords in the living room, freezing when Cale shifted. The minute he stilled I slunk out of the house completely, into the night. Dusk's subarmour settled on my body a moment later, the air warm but not warm enough to keep me comfortable. She kept poking me, demanding I let her out and deal with the scars I was about to face again.

Memories I had kept locked up in the name of sanity now about to rip through my soul.

I pulled from my chest and the full armour hummed, the sense of protection literal platemail offered me a welcome relief. She ached for the stars and sky and the quiet I'd seen snatches of in Rowen's memory, a place where the world being big and open wasn't scary.

But I wasn't that type of person. I wanted some place closed off but also away, somewhere I could be a ball, feel safe— feel something.

I slimmed the platemail down just to feel like myself again, Dusk now tight and formfitting in such a way I felt held together. Halo pulsed in my hands, sensation reaching my skin through my armour, helping Dusk where it felt weak. The anxiety started melting away, leaving me with nothing more than a desire to explore instead of running. I just couldn't tell if it was to test the armour's limits, or any sort of childlike wonder.

It'd been awhile since I'd felt the latter. A year of stress and pain and realizations, adjusting to work and adjusting to moving out and now this, all forcing me to grow up too quickly. Teenage fantasies I'd shoved aside in the name of impracticality, danger… they bubbled to the surface, now, wanting to be explored.

I'd always wanted to sit on a roof and watch the stars.

Dusk kept pushing up, the feeling of a leap, of swinging. The weightlessness of flight. Not wanting to limit myself, for once, I prepared for a jump, left the ground— and stayed up in a moment of stillness I'd normally only experienced at the top of a swing's arc. If I'd been one to exclaim anything, I probably would've laughed in triumph and sheer glee. As it was, I just looked down to see how high I was then at eye level for the view. I smiled and waved at Sage in the window, his smile in return about enough to melt my heart.

There was another teenage fantasy my brain wanted to indulge in. Strong, positive feelings. Whether or not they were platonic or romantic, however, I didn't have the faintest clue.

I kept floating up, only going as high as I needed to for a relatively safe rooftop landing. While I guessed I could go higher, I didn't want to risk it. Maybe if Rowen or Tessa were there to catch me if this feeling went away and I lost the ability to stay afloat, but not alone.

It was exactly how I'd imagined. The hard roof surface pressing into my back making me feel real, just high and hidden away enough I was safe, but not so high I felt lost from the ground, and the view. God, the view. I'd mentally promised not to use Strata's powers for my own whims, but with my hesitation to go higher than three stories, traveling with him was likely the only way I'd get a better one.

I was sure if Tessa were awake to hear those thoughts, she'd make some comment about Libras.

Somewhere in my musings, everything settled back down into the low level melancholy that had dragged me out of bed in the first place. Halo's presence increased in my mind, slightly, and I tried to soothe Sage back to sleep that I was alright. He could tell, at least, that wasn't a complete lie. I wasn't about to do anything dangerous, and I wasn't about to fall into despair. Still, the past three weeks nagged at me to the point I simply closed my eyes and tried to breathe.

Footfalls on the roof had me sitting up rod straight in an instant. I looked up to Tessa coming to kneel beside me, arm going around my torso in a hug to let me know it was okay. In the time it took me to almost automatically wrap my arms around her, I knew her presence— and Rowen's on the ground— had something to do with the orb still in my hand.

She pulled back to properly sit beside me. "So I see Sage has you on the Halo Foster Parent roster, next to Rowen."

I blinked at Halo. "Rowen, too?" Her eyebrow quirked up for all of a moment before she nodded, snuggling into me. I didn't exactly know what to make of that information. It was bad enough that Sage had given up his armour for me twice, now, when he never gave it up for anyone. Now I found out he'd given it to Rowen, as well, meaning he likely felt similar to us both. At least in terms of level of trust.

My voice was quiet when I spoke next. "Ryo said… Sage never gave Halo up. He gave it to Ryo, one night, and… to me the night after we got you back."

She squeezed my shoulders. "He left it in our room last night, with Rowen. Strata was in their room." Her eyebrow went up again, this time with a mischievous air. "How much you wanna bet they've done it before? From what I can tell, they used to share a room at Mia's place, so I'm sure Strata and Halo are pretty used to it."

That just made the thought worse, as much as her statement made sense. "Wouldn't surprise me. I mean— you can probably sense the bond between those two as much as I can. Sage hardly ever uses nicknames, but he used one for Rowen when he picked him up." This time I'd made my own thought worse; I hadn't quite realized he'd only given two people nicknames.

She got quiet, pulling me closer into her side and picking up on just how dark my emotions were getting. "He must really be worried about you, to be willing to let you hold onto Halo more than once."

I sighed, rubbing my face with my free hand and feeling my emotions scurry into corners I couldn't reach into. "Dunno. I… guess I'm upset but. It's small."

Now she squeezed me around the shoulders. "Talk to me, sis."

There was that order again, the four words that demanded an answer and somehow never made me feel triggered I had to reply. I shook my head part in amusement, part in self hatred— I kept needing that order to talk about my feelings— but just like everything else, the emotions slipped away. "I never thought all this would happen after I moved out. I thought… I'd hoped that'd be it. Just between me, her, the cops, maybe extended family. Not…" I trailed off, unable to form words around the concepts coming to memory. Thank God for armour, because I could simply transmit the idea that I now had more blood relatives than I ever dreamed, to the guys and Sage and my feelings for him, now the Warlords were involved, and Michael, and international investigation, and something I couldn't hope to forget about for years. It would keep coming up through the trials.

"Yeah… It all sure is pretty crazy, huh?" She chuckled once. "I feel a bit like we're going up against Ganondorf in Ocarina of Time. We have the Master Sword—now all we have to do is slay the villain."

I thought over the obstacles I knew we'd face. "Except it's probably more like Ghirahim and Demise in Skyward Sword."

She froze, complete deer in the headlights look as she contemplated me making a gaming reference. "How in the… you haven't even played that one yet how do you…"

I snorted. It would've been an evil giggle if I was in a better mood. "One, I talk to you too much, to make that comparison, two, I spend too much time on tumblr, three, you have to admit I'm right considering we'll probably have other cultists to deal with on top of her…"

"Look on the bright side, though—at least Michael's in handcuffs and safely tucked away in my mom's precinct's jail getting taxpayer-funded dinner," she said cheerfully, almost brushing the topic under the rug to continue with the previous metaphor. "And honestly if you take the whole oni thing into account it's more like Ganon than Ganondorf."

I chewed my lip, fears about the upcoming day not eased in the slightest. "But the other cultists will add willpower to the spell keeping the guys from using their armours— if their will is stronger than ours…"

She snorted. "C'mon, if the world ran on willpower, you and I would be somewhere way better off right now. And since that spell does run on willpower—or breaks because of it—that means we're gonna crush it to itty bitty little pieces. I mean, we have the MacGuffin—" She raised an eyebrow, smirking, looking at me out of the corner of her eye; her confidence honestly foolhardy and both of us knew it. "—dare I say what can go wrong?"

I raised an eyebrow right back. "You're asking somebody with clinically diagnosed anxiety 'what can go wrong'. You know I can give a very literal answer to that, right?"

My sister let out a half amused sigh, knowing me far too well."Then it's a rhetorical question and we'll be the Last (Two) Girls Alive at the end of the horror story. Deal?"

But apparently not well enough. The thought of death sent the floodgates open, everything presently filtering through my panic centre first before it had a chance to have any semblance of rationality applied to it. Despite everything my primary fear was still exactly that, the actual parameters of the trope forgotten in favour of literal interpretation.

I hated being both traumatized and autistic, some days.

My emotions must've shown somewhere, although whether or not it was on my face or through Dusk I didn't have the faintest clue. She pulled me even closer and snuggled, the physical manifestation of her incredibly long text based hugs when comforting me. "Geeze, here I am supposedly trying to comfort you and instead I'm joking about fights with not-so-fictional demons and giving you nightmares about horror stories." She sighed, confidence replaced with darkness both of us were feeling. "I'm sorry…"

I scrunched my eyes shut, panic centre's response processed and now thinking rationally. In part. At least enough to know what she had originally meant. "No, it's okay, I forgot the trope allows other people to live besides the last girl I just—"

Every inch of anxiety had taken hold, no matter what I tried to do to stop it. My throat closed up, face turning into her shoulder for the sole purpose of hiding. She pulled me closer and Dawn wrapped around the two of us, silent comfort and radiating the warmth of life.

The fact my night owl sister got Dawn, the force that warmed the world and signified, in many circles, new starts, suddenly made one heck of a lot more sense.

"Sage and the guys won't die. They won't let that happen and I sure as hell won't let that happen and you are braver and smarter and stronger than you think." She rested her cheek against my hair. 'It'll be okay.'

Well, so much for not crying.

I needed to cry— I knew I needed to cry— but feeling sobs push their way out and tear through my throat was still painful. She lay back on the roof and kept holding me, curling up around me like a mother dragon again. Dusk, somehow, stayed open, Dawn feeling pain I couldn't articulate or even find a source for. Layers of panic, some ancient, some fresh, merged together and twisting around to something utterly wordless but massive like a lovecraftian monster. The terror of horror story protagonists was an accurate description. I knew every inch of this threat too intimately, and I knew what we were up against. Nobody else should have to face that, and here I'd dragged nine others into this with me.

Words eventually pushed their way forward. 'I never wanted anyone else involved I never wanted this to be a huge thing that so many people could get hurt from and I'm just one person why is there so much?'

She was surprisingly calm in her reply, tone almost cautious, but otherwise level. 'And that's why you need us, and it's okay to need us, and we're all here because we're supposed to be. The armors chose us. This is what they're made to do—protect and defend. We would probably be here regardless of whether or not our mother was involved. I know it hurts—honestly I'm probably repressing the fact I should be terrified for Rowen, but I also know he's more of a warrior than I am and he can handle himself. Just like the rest of them. And even if he'll stumble and need any one of us to help him up—well, we're all gonna need each other, anyway. What's the difference?'

My emphasis had apparently gone over her head. I reiterated what I was trying to get at. 'But I'm just me. I shouldn't… why all this?'

'"Just you" is a stubborn, fiery, iron-willed assassin with a penchant for dry wit and sarcastic humor who doesn't take crap from any wannabe demon-emperor with designs on ruling the galaxy through fantastical magic objects." She raised a mental eyebrow at me. "And her name's not Kavita."

That still seemed to ignore my point. 'You know what I meant.' Feelings of how if I was really that good, why did I need help passed through our connection, along with a side helping of how I felt like I was taking too much from everyone around me, of this dragging on and no end in sight.

She squeezed me. 'What sort of decent human being would leave someone to the mercy of a legit demon? People are supposed to help other people. No one can go it alone—even if it's as little a thing as saying "I believe in you". Or, yes, as big as flying halfway across the world to tackle some absurd cult leader who happens to have given birth to us and smacking her upside the head to say 'What the hell do you think you're doing?"'

I dug my nails into her arm, everything she said making sense but I didn't want to hear it, didn't want to open up the sores of realizing just how screwed up my upbringing had been, my energy low enough with the constant self hate under the surface. I'd tried to keep it in from almost week one, rebuffing more and more as I kept taking, kept needing saving, kept needing comfort. I should be better by now. I'd learned, growing up, that I didn't deserve so much time. There was always something else to get done, something else more important, and—

She cut off my swirling thoughts. 'You deserve it because you're a human being and there doesn't need to be another reason. So, rest—I'll be here for you.'

I nuzzled into her shoulder. 'Can't sleep.'

'Then we'll sit and stare up at the stars and talk—whatever you wanna do.' A spark of mischief went through our connection, the sense of a smile and a sideways look following. 'I think I might be able to sing that lullaby Rowen uses for me, if you'd like…?'

It felt good to laugh again, no matter how small it was. 'If I fall asleep, who's gonna carry me to bed?'

Her grin was back to devilish teasing. 'I can get Sage up here if you like…'

My cheeks and ears warmed with a blush. 'Y-yeah… I'd like both of those.'

She squeezed me again, this time in happiness I was feeling at least a little better. "By the way if you'd said no, in all seriousness I'm sure Dawn'd give me enough strength to carry you."

I smiled and snuggled a little closer, settling in as she began singing. I'd heard a few voice clips, a few samples, but I'd never heard her actually sing, even though she'd been in choir for years. However this wasn't any performance, nothing particularly polished— and I preferred it that way. I liked mistakes, cracks, paused lyrics and tripped over tongues. They felt more human, and I wanted nothing more than to feel human. To have some sort of permission I could be imperfect, for once. I kept having to shift as I relaxed, muscles unwinding so much I actually took up more space.

The song ended and I found my eyes reluctant to open, me not quite comfortable enough to fall asleep up here. I sat up and stretched my arms above me. The moment was too soft to speak much louder than a murmur. "I kept wanting a pillow. Let's… just go to bed."

She looked genuinely relieved, but it was along the same lines as before. That I wasn't on the verge of breaking down again. She propped herself up on her elbows. "I think that is an excellent idea."

I stood and went to the edge, glancing down at Rowen watching the roofline and just how small even he looked from two stories off the ground. I looked over my shoulder at her and smirked. "Wanna see how I got up here?"

She grinned in reply, standing herself to watch. "I have a feeling if it's anything like we've done so far, it'll either be exactly like or exactly opposite Dawn. But be my guest!"

Her encouragement was all I needed. I felt my old scars— the slices made to try and remove so-called 'deadbones', painful cramping that indicated to my mother I was too depressed, too obsessed with the potential of entering the afterlife— ache with the thought of flight. In the past few weeks I'd wondered what else, exactly, those bones could represent.

I lept up and felt a gust of wind from a single beat of wings follow me.

She bounced in place, clapping and a long, excited 'oooooh' obvious signs of approval. I arched back, doing a loop-de-loop with the same ease as I did one underwater.

Rowen's utter disbelief was only part of his tone, disappointment and amusement the rest. "Oh come on, now you've both got wings?"

Tessa walked over to the edge to see her boyfriend as she teased him. "Obviously Strata thinks it's okay, or it would've come with wings, too."

Dawn transmitted the bunny hops she followed, from metal suits and flying, to geniuses, to Tony Stark, to a scene from the movie I hadn't seen gifed— to a very bad idea.

She jumped off the roof and before Rowen had a chance to do anything, I'd already caught her. "Sorry sis, I know that would've been romantic for him to catch you, but I'd rather you not break your neck."

I was a writer and I found her grin unnerving. "Nah, s'all good. Just goes to show friends who'll be there to catch you no matter how silly you get are are pretty freaking awesome!"

I shook my head as she glomped me again, around my neck this time. My arms went around her in pure relief she was alright, despite how little danger she'd actually been in. Anxiety at potential injury was influencing my actions, mind already desperate to know she was safe.

Rowen still seemed to be sore both of us had more visually impressive flight powers than he did, albeit incredibly amused at this whole situation. His cross-armed posture said 'show off' more than anything. "Especially ones with wings."

I blushed despite myself as we landed, arms tightening around my sister with another swirl of emotions. "The armour feels… most comfortable without wings, honestly. I just wanted to see if I had them in me."

Her pride was unmistakable, Dawn transmitting the visuals of my back… and the now half-healed scars. "I'd say you did."

I smiled, everything settling again as she held me. "I… didn't actually use them to get up. I just thought of floating. I guess like Strata."

Tessa grinned with a smirking edge to it at him. "See. Floaty powers. Wings sold separately."

I shook my head and loosened my grip. "You've been talking to me too much, to make an advertising joke."

She laughed. "Aaaw I thought that one was pretty easy. You haven't grown up in this house—we are so commercialized, I swear! We basically speak in TV ads some days."

Despite myself, a childhood memory came floating up with enough force I vocalized it. "And I used to speak in stand up comedy routines, at my place. Big deal."

Rowen thought for a moment, continuing the topic change if only to ease his bruised ego. "You'd probably love commercials in Japan, if you're in advertising, come to think of it… we all tune them out, but they'd be different, for you."

Tessa's laughter got louder, her walking over to hug him now that I was mostly on my own feet, voice sing-song. "Oh don't worry, I already got that angle covered!"

It took me a moment to put a few topics together, but once I did, I lit up with a grin. "Hey— I won't have to turn you into the Strata Orbital Express to see them in person, now!"

Sage came out of the house, screen door shutting behind him. "Or White Blaze."

He was trying to sound lighthearted, but the late night and triggers were audible in his voice. I walked up and wrapped my arms around his chest, letting him know how much better I felt. Despite what Tessa had said, guilt still nagged at me that he was here and going through his own hell as a result. 'I wish you didn't have to do this.'

His arms went around me in return. 'It's not 'have to'. It's 'want to'.'

The rewording, something so simple, helped it stick. It also put less emphasis on my inherent value and more others' desires, giving the voices in my head less to hold onto. Still, his words eased the fear I was taking too much.

It did not escape my attention that Tessa and Rowen were trying to slip around us into the house.

The screen door shut again, leaving us outside alone, Halo still in my grip. I pulled away and offered it to him, only for him to wrap my fingers back around the orb. "Keep it for tonight."

My armour flowed off my skin and into my free hand, half sphere pulsing along with my heart. "Then keep Dusk for tonight."

He sighed. "I told you, Strata—"

"I'd feel better if you had it."

His own words turned against him made him pause, slowly taking the armour. It was almost immediately lost in his fist. "Thank you."

I smiled. "I'd say I don't deserve it, because you did the same for me, but I've forgotten that Japanese."

To my surprise, he laughed. "I'll teach it to you properly later. Right now, we both need to be in bed."

I nodded but didn't move, especially when his forehead rested against mine. 'You do deserve all of this.'

I swallowed. Hard. 'Still don't believe it.'

'I know.' He brought me against his chest. 'You will one day, though.'

'I hope so.'

He squeezed me one last time before letting go. "Oyasumenasai."

I inclined my head, bowing oh so slightly at the waist. "Oyasumenasai."

—

Cye insisted I eat breakfast. And a snack. And lunch.

By midafternoon, this had all added up to a very bad idea.

I had energy— pure anxiety, what I normally tried to avoid feeling if I could help it— running under my skin in a desperate desire to escape. I wanted to split open again, but not even that would be enough. Every thought about the cult swirled in my mind, feelings I hadn't had time to process in the six months I had left it.

I grabbed my iPod and Dusk's orb, heading outside where I had two things I needed: space and privacy. The armour went from subarmour to full armour in a few moments, only to slim down in what looked like a purple leotard with matching tights and shoes. I also had gloves, the thought of grass and rocks on the bare skin of my palms something I did not want to subject myself to.

Religion talk always got me in the mood for religion-centric songs, the ones I used for catharsis when the very idea of a deity had me running for the hills. I pressed Y on the shorthand alphabetical list, going straight to "The Gates" by Young Empires. The music started and while beautiful, it didn't stir any movement. It was overall a hopeful song, one that had some shreds of comfort and verse and general acceptance.

That was the last thing I wanted.

Press H. Find Hozier. "Take Me to Church", the only song I owned by him and one I nearly hadn't gotten because of the memories it invoked. The first notes began and my hand lifted, wrist flicking along to the rhythm and the trembling in my chest finding an outlet.

I'd listened to this song far too much, for something so painful I couldn't watch the music video— considering it depicted a religion-based, homophobic hate crime— and could send me into a flashback if I wasn't careful. Except today, that was exactly what I wanted.

Halfway through, I paused it and brought it back to the beginning, cranking up the volume and suddenly not caring just how loud it got. This was for me, this was for my own selfishness, and I'd always been called that. No sense in fighting it.

The first few notes were throwaways as I set the ipod down and backed up into a clear space on rhythm, spine bending along the melancholy and refusing to straighten. Everything centred from my torso, a turn in attitude with my spine so arched that my hand nearly touched my foot, Dusk aching in a way I knew far too well.

If the heavens ever did speak, she was their last pure mouthpiece.

That was the leader, that was my mother, that was anybody else who was so in tune with who they were supposed to be in God that they could order those of us who were lesser around. I should've been one of those, I should've had that power, I knew it— but not even Dusk was enough to have me earn a place. No gift was great enough that it could make up for the corruption they saw in my heart.

I'd taste that power in moments of obedience. It always puzzled me, why purity was simply parroting, why I couldn't speak my own mind and be respected.

I was born sick, but I love it.

It took me too long to realize my brain chemistry was almost unchanging, my temper and anger and the dark corners filled with cobwebs part of who I was. Something that, no matter how much I tried, would always be a natural reaction, always be something that I'd have to fight or else I would destroy everything around me. Pride in my differences, the ones my mother didn't approve of, was not allowed.

I was a force of destruction and I always had to be careful, or else I would cause everyone else to get hurt. Resent me. Know that I was a demon, at my heart. They never said that, but from their actions, that's what they believed.

Mend me to be well.

Except I didn't love God enough, except I must've secretly wanted it back because I couldn't ever give it up, couldn't ever put it in a box and keep it there— because it was part of who I was and there was nothing I could do about it. No god could ever help me. They didn't like to hear that.

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.

And I did. I was absolute in my devotion, letting them do what they wanted, letting them carve into my skin and armour and the pain was supposed to be pennance, supposed to be purification. The list of things I'd destroyed in their name was locked up in a place no person would ever see, because it was easier to move on and forget than acknowledge the abuse I had given to others. It was impossible for me to even wrap my mind around the concept I hadn't known any better. It placed my actions in the realm beyond forgiveness. Beyond any semblance of acceptance. I didn't care. It was the past. The past had no business in the present. Not like that ever stopped me from bringing it up.

At least these memories, I could control.

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife.

The cult never had confession but we always had expectation of purification; the Catholic concept was scorned, quite strongly, because it expected you were sinners and had done something in this life every week. Instead my upbringing was built on the basic understanding you have karma and you are beyond repentance, you must endure hell and its fire before God can ever find you, every thing I did incorrectly a whetstone against those Nether Spirit blades.

Every word I said about myself was a sin, my reactions wrong and my enjoyment warped. Too human, too corrupt, too close to dancing with the devil. Even this music would be condemned, the beat too irregular and the lyrics speaking of heresy. Or of those other churches, how dare I bring it into purity.

Offer me that deathless death.

The reward, the be all-end all. The place supposed to represent the afterlife but instead felt more like depression, more like death-in-life that resembled undeath so closely I could never consume anything that even resembled necromancy-based media. Zombies were out, as was everything else.

All of it was too close. All of it reminded me that others could control you and like hell I was going to let that happen. Anymore.

Good God let me give you my life.

I reached up before I threw my arms out, back lying flat in midair in a semblance of the ancient Aztec ritual of removing the heart. I didn't know when they'd done it, when this hole in my chest manifested itself in the name of self-improvement.

The song turned into a blur after the first chorus, every line bringing up something and every verse reminding me of more. The ground, the air— I simply moved the way the music requested, almost commanded. Dusk improved my body's vocabulary, letting me translate what was in my mind outward. Even then, she could only go so far when the both of us were stretching ourselves so much. I should be healing, should be using all the calories I had ingested already to make up for yesterday, but they weren't absorbing fast enough and I always had been bad at resisting the more subtle forms of self harm.

This is hungry work.

Except I was hardly ever allowed to eat what I wanted because I was already so sick I didn't want to make it worse now, did I?

Every ounce of anger exploded on the next take me to church, firebird leap high and soaring and for once in this past few weeks I felt free. There was nothing but emotion, and yes it was pain but no, it was not painful.

My body kept warming up, muscles going farther every time, and even in Virginia-in-July heat, I didn't want to stop. Dusk radiated it out, my anxiety still running but even it was releasing and everything felt warm. I couldn't say I minded— or even cared— after so long in the freezing cold with fever-like sweats as I recovered, honest warmth was too welcome.

I finished the song on my knees, spine arched so my chest was to the sky once more, one arm propping myself up while the other reached up to a heaven I had been denied and now renounced in the name of trying to carve out heaven on earth. The last notes reverberated and I kept crumpling backwards, hand lowering and torso collapsing back until it was against the earth.

Immediately after I hissed and sat up, hip sliding back in after it had come dangerously close to dislocating again. The screen door opened and shut, Halo reaching for me before Sage went on his knees beside me. I didn't even say anything before burrowing into him, tears pushing their way out now that I had ripped myself open.

'Are you hurt?'

I nodded. 'A little. That… permanent hip damage I mentioned, awhile ago. Flared up.'

'I—' He cut himself off, changing tactics. 'Is there anything you want me to do?'

I thought of what I stored in that knot, the memories tangled in the tendons all things relating to healers, all things that could hurt him. All things I'd refused to let myself feel and had buried down even farther after meeting him, after letting him heal me.

His hand went to the back of my head, holding me against him. 'I understand. I know it's not personal.'

'It's still a lot of anger…'

He tightened his arms. 'You don't have to be afraid of it.'

Dusk finally returned to her orb, cloth settling on sweaty skin and making it hard for me not to squirm. Sage pulled back to make it I had less clothing-on-dampness contact. "Let's get you inside."

I nodded but otherwise didn't move, shaking from I wasn't sure what. Dehydration, hunger, and anxiety were all options, along with the uncomfortably plausible "all of the above". He picked me up almost without thinking, after the shortest of pauses to realize I wasn't resisting him.

Exhaustion apparently applied to more things than fighting the negative voices in my head. As much as allowing somebody else to take care of me again would make things come up later on. Hopefully this would be over soon.

There was a suspicious lack of people as he took me to my room, everybody else apparently having scattered after feeling I-didn't-know-what through Dusk. Sage lay me on the bed and rested his hand on my thigh, Halo subtly spreading out along the sore muscles.

"Dusk was… incredibly open, as the music continued."

I sighed. "Of course she was." I turned onto my side, his hand moving to the side of my leg. "How much?"

He tightened his grip. "I'm… not sure I can answer that."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

My expression got a smile pulling at his lips, slightly. "There was such depth to the emotion coming off Dusk, it's almost impossible to describe. I could feel your pain, yes, but that wasn't the only emotion there." He chuckled. "It helped the dancing was beautiful."

Now I turned beet red, covering my face with my forearms. "I normally don't dance in public unless it's recital."

He slid his hand to my waist. "Why none of us wanted to disturb you. I wouldn't have, except—"

"My hip." I lowered my arms and shifted, the warmth of his hand welcome. "Could you… just massage it? And let Halo… work as it wants without a healing?"

He nodded and softly pressed on my back so I would lay on my stomach, shifting to sit facing me even if it meant his leg was propped up on the bed. I adjusted so my head was resting on my folded arms, wincing when he found on the initial knot in my mid back and almost immediately relaxing upon realizing it meant this would stop hurting.

Halo was gentle, and for once I wasn't sure if I was referencing Sage or his armour. It was so lightly investigating the damage wrought by the previous healers, green light flicking away the shards of glass Dusk had ground up over the years, so they weren't stabbing pain but they were still present, still impeding the flow of energy and blood.

'You're shaking.'

I scrunched my eyes shut. 'Green. For them. It was healing.'

Halo pulled back, Sage pausing the massage to think. 'I… can change the colour.'

'Could you?'

His hands began again, finding a knot in my hamstring and carefully going along the whole muscle to release it. 'It comes from a different source. It will feel different.'

I winced when he pressed the source of the knots near my knee. 'Scared?'

He paused a second time, digging into the muscle of my thigh and letting my body work on undoing the tangle on its own. 'It comes from my spirit, instead of Halo.'

'So you'd be showing me your heart.'

'In essence, yes.'

I turned my head to attempt a smile through the pain. 'Just your hands are enough. I already feel worlds better.'

He reached up and brushed my hair back, leaning his forehead against my temple. 'Do you trust me?'

I swallowed, remembering my own words from our first night at Tessa's place, where I bluntly told him I did not. 'Y-yes, I do.'

His free hand went to my lower back. A moment later, golden energy spread between them, carefully picking its way through the glass and spreading out to envelop the rest of my soul. I recognized the feelings, ones that had protected me after his first healing. He'd kept them apart from me, distant and through multiple layers of Halo's energy, but I'd sensed enough I could recognize his heart.

Even in this state I could recognize love.

I didn't even feel any pain as the damage cleared, Sage going over what was the smallest cuts and healing them before I ever felt anything that could resemble blood, could resemble discomfort. His spirit was quiet, tranquil, but with the raw power of nature tended into a beautiful garden that could break free of its confines any minute.

My whole hip socket and upper leg popped with the last of the residue cleared out, spirit able to relax now that I didn't have someone else still influencing my body.

Sage himself left a moment after, hands going back to his sides. "Better?"

The waver in his voice did not escape my attention. I sat up and wrapped my arms around his chest in gratitude. "Much."

He wrapped his arms around me in return. "I didn't press any triggers?"

I shook my head.

One hand went to the base of my neck. "I'm glad."

I swallowed, not wanting to bring it up but also not wanting to let it go. "You're still scared."

His fingers tangled in my hair. "I was worried, after you closed off the minute I said Dusk had been open."

"Oh." I tucked my head against his chest more. "Didn't even notice."

He laughed softly. "I'm not surprised, if that makes you feel better. Halo is the same." He rubbed my neck, hesitating before he spoke again. "I was also worried about what all this seems to be stirring, in you. We all were. We all are."

I paused before sighing, sensing everyone else coming in as if his statement was permission to enter. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice…"

There was a very distinct sense of 'how could we not', but he almost immediately thought of the neglect I'd revealed and masking I'd already displayed on the trip. He held me a little closer when he realized I'd tracked his thought, his mind more open than it had been. I hadn't even realized how much he'd been closed. "I shouldn't have thought that, considering how often I do the same."

"It… happens," I said softly. The implications of abuse were clear to the both of us, to the point they genuinely didn't need to be spoken. I swallowed. "I'm scared."

"I kn— I understand."

He'd even picked up on my ribs tensing at the start of words 'I know' in reply to an emotional declaration, something my mother had said once too often. I held him tighter. "The longer we wait the stronger she gets."

"Then we'll go after her tomorrow," Ryo said from the door. He came up and put a hand on my shoulder, waiting until I tipped my head up to look at him— and his eyes filled with protective concern— before continuing. "It'll be over, soon."

I closed my eyes and melted into the resulting dogpile, finding my sister's hand and lacing it in mine. "Arigato."