WARNING THE NEXT CHAPTER AND MANY MORE TO FOLLOW CONTAINS SELF HARM, SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, VERBAL ABUSE, AND LOTS OF OTHER BAD THINGS. READ CAREFULLY.

Ever since Rachel had died, Michael struggled severely with separation anxiety. He didn't like being left alone because he was scared that he would do something to himself, especially after news had spread that Joshua was in the medical wing of the castle with scratches along his wrists.

Michael didn't want anything like that to happen to him and he made his parents put up anything that he could use to hurt himself.

Maybe that was what tipped Lance off.

In his shared separate bed, he reached out for Cassandra, just a gentle half asleep embrace to tell her everything was alright. But when he did so, there was nothing but empty sheets.

As of now, Cassandra waking up before him was unlikely so this was a change that Lance wasn't sure he liked.

So, rising from his bed Lance called out for her, but the only response he was given was a bawling Michael running towards him talking illegibly.

"Michael, Michael, buddy slow down. Where's Mommy?" Lance bent down to his son's level and gently held his shoulders, Michael taking stuffy nosed, hiccupy breathes.

"She-she-she... Mommy said that-that she was going away with Rachel and-and-and Flynn. She-she took some rope and left when it was still dark out...! Daddy I don't-I don't want Mommy to go...!" Michael whined, running his arm under his leaky nose and across his moistened face.

Lance shot up from his son so quickly it rocked the boy. But Lance hadn't a moment to stop and be worrisome for Michael when he had a sickening feeling as to what Cassandra was trying to do to herself.

Cassandra finished tying the weights around her wrists and carried them into the river with her, she had no intention of coming back. Everything she had didn't matter enough to decree it now in the ownership of another. Her meaningless life was going to end now as it probably should have years ago.

Lance was tearing through the forest screaming her name, but she didn't hear him, and even if she did, the calls were not registered nor would she.

The water was now up to her chest so without any regard, Cassandra let the weights fall to the bottom and take her with them, the current beating her head forwards in the attempts to snuff out her own life how her daughter had died.

Lance burst into the area where anything Cassandra had taken and not needed was left, seeing no signs of her he panicked.

"CASSANDRA! CURLS CM'ON ANSWER ME!" Lance yelled, looking around frantically. Perhaps by a chance or Devine intervention or whatever you may call it, he noticed where the water bubbled over different than the surrounding currents. He didn't think when he ran into the river, his sole goal to find Cassandra, which he was so glad he did.

Pulling Cassandra to the shore, he placed his hands over her chest and pumped, every ten beats he would hold her nose and place his mouth to her own and blow as much air as he could possibly force into her lungs, then repeated. On and on he went until on one of his breaths was met with a trickle of water at his lips and Lance pulled away.

Cassandra coughed and gasped, heaving up whatever water became trapped within and blinked. She turned to look at Lance, narrowing her eyes a frown upon her face. "Why didn't you just let me drown?!" She rasped.

"Why didn't I just-?" Lance asked incredulously, his voice rising in fever. "WHY DIDN'T I JUST LET YOU DROWN?! God! Cassandra! Your my wife! I'm just supposed to sit back and watch as you try and drown yourself in the river?!"

"YES!" Cassandra snapped the fresh water on her face mingling with the salt water provided by her eyes.

Birds flew from the trees and other creatures in the vicinity fled from the volume of her scream and the two of them stayed in tense silence.

Lance stared at her, the arch of his mouth deepening. "I can't do that and you know it."

Cassandra glanced halfway at him, bearing her own frown. "Then you just need to leave."

Little did she know that these words would come to haunt her for the rest of her life.

Fights between the two of them, often caused by Cassandra's latest suicide scheme, became an often occurrence. These fights started out verbal but began to take a turn within the period of a month. Cassandra and Lance were often equally matched in recent years, due to either injury or training on either side, and took place during the night when Michael was securely placed to sleep.

They would hiss venomous words at each other and either wrestle one or the other to the ground until the fight proved futile or blows would land in the least visible area until they had expended their energy.

One night however, as was bound to happen, in a fit of rage, the hisses morphed into words, which became distinct vowels which then turned to full out shrieking and blows without restrained force. Michael was awoken by these horrid acts and crept quietly down the hall where his parents duked it out in the living room, he watched with a horror unknown to all but the children who have witnessed such abuse inflicted from one parent to another.

One of Cassandra's backhands, as response to a dagger sharp remark, turned Lance's face in the direction of their cowering son. Lance walked away from her and carefully reached out for Michael, who shrunk away from the touch, worried that he, himself would become a target now that he had seen these things. Lance scooped up Michael and began walking down the hall murmuring gentle apologies to Michael.

"DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME WHEN WE'RE TALKING ARNALDO! I WASN'T FINISHED!" Cassandra screamed, marching down the hall after him. Grabbing his shoulder upon the threshold of Michael's room, she spun Lance around to face her, Michael yelping in fear.

"Well we are Cassandra!" Lance hissed back, setting Michael on the floor and ushering him with a large paw towards his bed. Michael sniffled and obeyed out of sheer fear of what either his parents might do.

Cassandra sputtered and growled, snarled and spat, muttered and cursed lowly before storming to their room and grabbing a few personal items, which were few indeed, and storming out of the house, barely leaving time for her, "Don't worry about me I'm just heading to the palace," before slamming the door so hard to shake the house.

Lance slid down the wall and held his head in his hands, shaky breaths rocking him as he fought back tears. What a way they were shaming Rachel by fighting like this. It had to stop. Oh, he could swear he felt her looking upon the house hopelessly and weeping at what had become of them.

Michael scurried out of his room and in between his father's legs, clutching tightly and crying as well. What a poor boy to be so young and to have lost so much.

I am deeply sorry for writing this, but it was necessary. Unfortunately it is only the beginning of a downward spiral in the Strongbow family that will last unfortunately longer than it ought to.

So what did Lance mean when he told Cassandra that they were through?

What will happen if there outbursts continue?

And will either of Michael's parents anger turn towards him?

Read on to find out, stay safe and review please.