Part XXXI: Slippery Slope


Uchiha Itachi found himself looking up into the face of a woman taller than himself. She was undoubtedly beautiful, for a mortal, with haunting blue eyes and long, curly red hair. Those clear, cerulean eyes were filled with tears as she sank helplessly to her knees, clinging to his cloak, sobbing into it.

"Please," she begged.

There was something about her voice, something in the quality of it, that rang familiar to Itachi's ears but he could not quite place it.

"Please," she lifted those startling cerulean eyes to his, taking his small hands in her own. "I have small children, scarcely older than yourself. I beg of you, think of my children."

Her entreaties fell on young, inexperienced ears. Although his expression did not reflect the torment that reigned within, Itachi realized with sudden clarity who the voice reminded him of. His own mother, singing sweet lullabies in the ancient tongue.

"Have mercy," the woman sobbed, trembling with anguish. Through the doorway of the little hut, he saw small bodies aslumber, their chests rising and falling slowly with deep breaths. The woman spoke the truth.

"I cannot," Itachi answered simply, his childish voice steady with wisdom beyond his appearance.

"No!" she cried, "Surely, you can!" She crawled closer still, grasping at his tunic, "Surely there is a heart with feeling beating within that chest! Surely, you can spare me this once. If nothing else…" A steady stream of tears trailed down her cheeks. "If naught else, give me three days, please…" She sniffled in helpless resignation, "To bid my children farewell, and to entrust their wellbeing into reliable hands. Please, that is all that I ask. I beg of you. If there is anything with feeling within you. If you have a heart, please… If there is anyone you love and fear to lose," she choked on her own words. "I beg of you, my Lord."

Itachi was silent, angling his head towards the sleeping children. A thin wail broke the silence within the hut. He spied a small baby boy flailing in a basket and recalled a similar little boy in a splendid golden crib deep within the Underworld's Palace. Sasuke.

If there is anyone you fear to lose…

"Three days," Itachi announced, and before she could so much as part her lips in gratitude, he disappeared.

Three days he could endure, surely.

However, the minute he set foot on the Underworld's banks - rather, the minute he turned away from the woman whose soul he was ordained to collect, he felt an unnerving unease settle over him. A searing pain seemed to shoot through the nerve endings of his fingertips and the soles of his feet, traveling along his neural pathways slowly, creeping ever closer to his heart. He stumbled towards his chambers, avoiding the eyes of his family, and succumbed to the pain, sinking into his silken sheets.

The young deity curled in on himself, clutching at his heart as the mind-shattering pain pulsed through him, shooting through his body every second with renewed intensity. Three days he had promised. Three days he would give.

The pain was accompanied by dizziness and nausea, followed by a loss of strength, a bodily weakness that weighed him down with the weight of Cerberus, it seemed. He remained curled on his side, pressing his lips together for fear someone should hear him cry out in pain, and counted the minutes go by, ticking off the allotted three days. As the hours passed, a deep cough took root in his lungs that persisted painfully and seemed to worsen with every passing moment, until he drew his hand away from his mouth and found it to be stained with his own divine blood.

On the evening of the second day, his mother burst into his chambers, tear-stricken and adamant. He heard her raised voice admonish the servants, demanding to know why no one had informed her of his suffering.

When she cried out that Erebus be summoned immediately, Itachi's hand shot out for hers. He opened his eyes blearily, meeting his mother's tearful dark gaze and shook his head quietly, before pressing his eyes closed once more. With grim, sorrowful resignation, she lifted a hand, dismissing the servants instead.

She settled at his side, lifting his head into her lap, and stroked his hair with gentle fingers as he trembled silently in pain. Unable to understand what ailed her son, she cooed reassuring utterances and sang to him. As her beautiful, crystal-clear voice washed over him, he imagined the mortal woman to be doing the same, singing her children to sleep and was reassured that he had made the right choice.

His mother never left his side until the third day had elapsed, and he rose to his feet with great self-discipline, never allowing his mother to see the weakness that plagued his body. He stalked out of the underworld with determination, and the illness that had tormented him seemed to abate with every step.

As he approached the village that served as the mortal woman's dwelling, his ears were pierced by an ominous silence. It was fast approaching evening, but mortals at this hour should have still been out and about their business, slowly returning to their homes. He made his way towards the little hut from which he sensed the soul of the woman, noticing with a flicker of his onyx gaze that more mortal souls wandered the village, lost. As many as there had been residents. Lifeless bodies littered the roads, splayed haphazardly throughout the village.

Itachi's lips set into a grim line. There was only one living soul in this dwelling. He sensed that clearly, and as he stepped through the wooden door of the woman's hut, as cleanly as a ghost, he found her sitting before the fire, her back turned towards him.

He came to a stop at her shoulder, his eyes burning with wrath.

The woman tensed, sensing his presence.

"Why should I go alone?" she lilted, mirth in her voice. A giggle tumbled from her lips, as she turned her face towards him, azure eyes aglow with deranged satisfaction, "They deserved to die more than I did."

Itachi's gaze fell to the woman's lap, where a babe lay curled up in her arm, blood trickled slowly from his throat still, the majority of it long spent. The child that had reminded him of his brother.

"They're my children," she hissed, angry at him now, her eyes narrowing in indignance, "I'm not leaving them behind. Obviously, they should be wherever I am!"

Itachi had heard enough. For this, he had spared her life? For this, he had suffered the past three days? Sparing the life of one had cost the lives of many. He was the executioner, not the judge, but for once, the lives lost weighed on his head, on his soul, on his conscience.

Itachi raised a hand, pointing quietly at the woman's heart. He saw a sneer begin to form, saw her lips part to continue negotiations, but he yanked his hand back with such force his cloak fluttered at the movement - tearing the soul out of her body so mercilessly that an ear-splitting scream pierced through the air before she slumped forward over her dead child.

Itachi understood, in that moment, what his predecessor had failed to grasp. In the role of Thanatos, there was no room for misplaced mercy. A mortal whose time had come, could not be permitted to tarry.

Indeed, he would never permit it again.

Itachi blinked. Thoughts of the past were banished firmly as the young businessman on his knees before him came into focus. His face was buried in his hands and his shoulders shook with sobs. Desperate pleas tumbled from his lips, but they scarcely registered in the death god's ears.

Itachi raised a hand to the man's shoulder, in a farce of a comforting gesture, and the black-haired man lifted his face in surprise, tears flowing freely down his face. His breath caught in his throat as Itachi reached up for his mask, drawing it away unhurriedly. Catching sight of the raven-haired deity's face, the very soul within the man's body trembled in anguish, and a sound between a sigh and a gasp escaped his lips, releasing the dormant soul to Itachi's dominion. The man's eyes rolled back into his head as his eyelids fluttered shut and he tumbled to the ground, his glasses clattering as they slid over the tiled floor before cracking against the leg of a coffee table.

Itachi turned his back on the lifeless form, leading the way back into the Underworld, the soul behind him following in humble obedience.


Angel's eyes flew open with a cry as she tore out of bed.

Her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage as a dream quickly fading from recollection still set her pulse racing. Disoriented, she blinked and struggled to regain a sense of her surroundings.

Winter sunlight streamed in through the window, filtered against the drawn curtains. She could hear birdsong chirping cheerfully in the cold outside, muffled by the frosted glass panes of the closed window. She hadn't covered herself with the comforter overnight, still lying flat on her back with her feet dangling from the side of the bed, and a veil of numbing coldness seemed to have settled over her skin, sinking into her flesh, into her bones.

Think Horace ain't got any rights?

Her eyes widened in instant recollection and nausea hit her like a savage punch to the gut. She stumbled towards the bathroom, only barely making it to the sink before retching miserably. Waves of nausea shook her body like the waves of revulsion passing through her heart. What had she done?

She ran the tap and rinsed out her mouth, tears dripping from her eyes. She stared at the water swirling down the drain, terrified to raise her eyes and see her own reflection. What kind of monster would she find there?

She turned away and switched off the lights, pointedly avoiding the mirror. She went around the apartment, drawing all the drapes shut, casting darkness over the area, over herself, then returned to her bed and allowed herself to fall into it. Turning on her back, she stared tearfully at the ceiling, recalling the events of the day before.

She could still smell the alcohol on the man's breath, still remembered the warmth of his chest underneath her palm for just a fraction of a second before she had shoved against it with an anger and desperation that she had never felt before. The reassurances of the paramedics meant little to her. She knew somehow, instinctively, that she was to blame. That if she hadn't been so angry, if she hadn't lashed out so furiously that man might still be alive. She couldn't rationalize it, but as she felt fresh tears welling in the corners of her eyes, she knew it was true. Angel lifted her hand, her eyes tracing the veins barely visible through her skin, the treacherous blood that pumped through her body, keeping her alive. Her, a murderer.

She dropped her hand to her face, and covered her eyes with her forearm as her entire body shook with the force of her tears. Her agonized gasps and sobs echoed throughout the room as she wept for hours until, at last, she fell into a fitful sleep.

It was a sleep that gave her no peace. One that consisted of endless dreams of the murdered man chasing her, screaming for hours, asking why she had done what she did, and when she was too weak to escape him he would take hold of her shoulders and shout into her ear, with a sound so shrill, it was more a shriek than anything. Demanding vengeance, demanding answers, demanding life. She could offer him nothing. That sharp voice pierced through her very soul and sent her pulse hurtling in terror.

The other half of her dreams consisted of herself chasing after the homeless man, begging for forgiveness. In these dreams, he was always beyond arm's reach, always turned away, always fading. Her throat was blocked and not a word could escape her. Her fingers brushed at nothing when she tried to make him stay and listen. Her limbs weighed down, heavy, lumbering, useless.

Days passed in agony. Drowning in guilt and self-loathing, she slept in sporadic increments throughout the day, one-hour naps brought on by the exhaustion that followed on unabating tears. Only to lie awake and stare at the ceiling unmoving, silently throughout the night. She neither ate, nor moved from her bed if she could help it. The days went by as she lost herself ever deeper to her regret until life was nothing but a swirling, descending spiral of darkness and she was caught somewhere in the center of the hurricane, the vortex crushing her but not allowing her the sweet relief of finally being extinguished, freed from the reality of the situation.

Angel realized dimly, somewhere in her subconsciousness, that something was seriously wrong with her, that she gravely required help, that she needed someone to pull her out of the deplorable state she was in. But to ask for aid? She turned her head towards her nightstand. The phone screen had gone black; she hadn't bothered to charge it and had no idea how many days had gone by. Should she call someone? Should she reach out to someone? But to whom? She started reaching for her phone but hesitated, her hand hovering in midair.

Murderer. The word echoed like a deafening, damning sentence in her skull, one from which there was no hope of being exonerated. Murderers don't deserve comfort, she thought to herself. Murderers deserve to suffer. Murderers deserve to die.

She bit her lip. Horace couldn't call anyone anymore. No one would ever tell him everything would be alright. And whose fault was that?

Suddenly, her phone lit up and the piano tunes that echoed throughout her bedroom almost seemed to mock her. They sounded out of place, remnants of a phantom life and innocence that was forever shattered. She blinked at her phone before realizing that she was receiving a phone call. Lifting herself wearily to a seated position, Angel reached for the phone, frowning when she recognized Cain was the one calling. The two had not parted on the best of terms, but he had helped her the other night, when she'd had no one else.

Stay away. Stay away. Stay away.

She could not rationalize the alarm bells ringing in her mind, but her very skin crawled at the thought of being close to Cain again, a great sense of unease churning within her stomach at the mere sight of his name. Shaking off the unwarranted anxiety, she lifted her phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she greeted hesitantly, surprising even herself with how weak her voice sounded.

"Angel, darling! Where have you been?" Cain enthused. She could hear the sound of traffic in the background and assumed he was out of doors.

"I…" she began weakly, unsure what he wanted to know. He had been there, hadn't he? He had seen everything.

"I haven't heard from you in ages! I confess, I've been bogged down in work these last couple of days so I suppose I'm at least partly to blame," he chuckled and Angel felt severely misplaced. How many days had passed? For Cain, life seemed to have returned to normal. Had she merely imagined the events of a few days prior? She glanced up at her bedroom mirror and winced when she saw her severely disheveled and tangled hair, her distressed pallor, her eyes blood-shot and swollen from ceaseless crying.

"Anyways, darling, I have some time off this afternoon. Would you care for a cup of coffee?" Cain continued casually.

"Coffee?" Angel's voice broke. The word sounded foreign, the idea sounded ludicrous. In what world could someone casually go for coffee after having just killed someone? She couldn't believe her ears. "Cain…"

The doctor finally seemed to notice Angel's subdued manner. "Angel, darling, what's wrong? You sound quite out of it."

"Coffee…?" she repeated, blinking incredulously. Guilt clawed at her heart. "Cain I- I killed a man… and you're asking me if I want a… coffee…?" Bitter tears stung at her eyes, and she swallowed thickly, feeling sick to her stomach. Her words were not as biting as they otherwise might have been. She was too exhausted for that, all of the life spent from her body, leaving her genuinely confused as to how such a suggestion was even possible.

"Don't be so melodramatic, darling," Cain threw back with a disbelieving laugh, clearly failing to appreciate and grasp the gravity of the situation. "It was an unhappy accident, but to say you killed him? That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

Angel was silent, stunned by his indifference. For all the months she had spent trying to understand Cain's view on life, asking herself if he wasn't the one who actually had it all figured out, his current behavior made glaringly obvious what she had been overlooking all this while.

"It's been three days since then, nearly four. You need to get out, Angel. Live a little, move on."

Angel shuddered. The man she had killed those few days ago had been deprived of all opportunity to "live a little". She could hear his words, but they refused to settle in her mind. It seemed as though they were speaking different languages entirely. Had that always been the case? Had she only just become aware of just how different they were?

"Move on…?" she choked out, her vision blurring with tears. "I don't- how can you say that? How are you just expecting me to carry on like- like I don't have the blood of an innocent man's life on my own hands?!" She could not comprehend how those words alone failed to prompt the appropriate response from him.

She heard him sigh in frustration on the other end and her bewilderment only intensified.

"What?" she asked, desperation and irritation sparking somewhere within her. "What is it?"

"No, it's alright, Angel. It's my mistake; forget I called." The annoyance in Cain's voice did not escape her notice.

"Say it!" she demanded.

A heavy moment's silence passed, and Angel listened to the traffic passing on Cain's end before he finally sighed and continued. "Life is for the living, is it not? Isn't that what we said, Angel? Even if that man died, he was hardly doing anything for anyone. If anything, as I've said before, he attacked you and he would have attacked others. You were only defending yourself. It was an accident that could have happened to anyone. Am I supposed to pretend to grieve over the death of a violent alcoholic? Have you been shutting yourself up at home because of this? I sincerely hope not."

The disapproval in his tone confounded her.

"Hardly doing anything for-?" Angel sucked in a sharp breath in disbelief, horrified. "He was still a person, Cain!" she could hear her voice rising. He wasn't listening to her. He didn't understand. "He was a human, with thoughts, feelings-!"

"He was a damned drunk, Angel." Cain retorted. "A lost cause. How does it help him or anyone if you stop living your life because of an accident?"

"Is that how you operate?" Angel demanded, anger spiking within her. "You decide who's worth saving and who isn't based on whether they're a lost cause or not?! Him being a drunk doesn't make his passing any less meaningful!"

"He had it coming." Cain sounded like he was losing patience. "He was frequently getting in trouble; even if he hadn't died back then, his drinking problem would have caught up to him eventually. Do you know what he would have done if he'd hurt you? He wouldn't have spared a damn thought. So why are you?"

"You…" Angel trembled, overrun with the force of her emotions. Cain was being so blase about the matter, and that was wrong, disconcerting, disturbing. Downright terrifying. "You really can't see this as a big deal…" she whispered.

"It isn't, because it was an accident. It's not like you got a knife and purposefully stabbed him in the heart, darling. That would be murder. You acted in self-defence. You really are overthinking things. Now, come on. The sun is still shining, the earth spins faithfully on its axis, everything is moving on, you should too. Get dressed, come out, come back to me and I'll make it all alright. Let's just put this blasted talk of death behind us. It's so grim and depressing."

Angel was silent for a long moment as she suddenly realized where the fatal flaw in her relationship with Cain was. Where it had always been. She had always thought that Cain had everything all figured out. Had been taken by his confidence, his fearlessness. His ability to go out and get what he wanted. But it seemed that she had overlooked one very fundamental issue. Just how very different they were. Too different.

"You're a doctor…" she said shakily. "And you don't care."

"I'm a doctor who is exposed to people dying regularly, Angel, and let me tell you, if you care for every single loss of a life to the extent you clearly do, then you're only setting yourself up for depression. Accept it as an accident and move on."

"He's dead because of me!" she gasped out. "It's not just- just some casual accident like… like breaking a plate! That's a life I took! Are you even listening to me?"

"It was an accident. You almost died because of someone else, too, do you think that punk kid's life ended after you nearly ended up in the grave? Wake up."

Angel was rendered speechless. Cain suddenly seemed like an absolute stranger to her. Unsympathetic. Wholly unaffected by death. He had absolutely no regard or respect for it and was clearly numb to it entirely.

"People mourn death, fear it, respect it, but you don't even care," she shook her head. "Do you think it's something that only happens to others? Like it won't one day come for us, too?"

"You're far too preoccupied with death, darling," Cain snorted dismissively. "It's unhealthy. Let's just drop this."

Every word he was saying was increasing her agitation. Her self-loathing. Her anger and disgust toward him. "Do you have any idea how much it's killing me right now, knowing I took a life? ME, the very person who always goes on about how precious, how sacred it is! And you expect me to just drop it?!" Her voice broke as she near-choked on her words, her hypocrisy splintering her heart into further fragments as she fought back her tears.

"Angel, what do you want me to say?" There was a hesitant, irked undertone to his smooth baritone. "I don't see why you'd ruin your life on account of a drunk who had already thrown away his."

"You don't understand me!" she cried. "You don't have a clue. You don't even care!"

"Angel, really-" he began.

"No! I see it now. The two of us are far too different for there ever to be anything between us in the long term." She squeezed her eyes shut. The announcement neither pained her nor did it give her any satisfaction. It was a simple fact.

There was a long, tense silence on the other side of the line. Then his voice responded tightly, "What are you saying?"

"That I don't want you to call me asking me if I want to go out like everything's normal, Cain. I don't want you to stop by. I've done something unforgivable," she clutched at her forehead. "I don't know who I am anymore and I can't just move on. I just want to be left alone!"

"For goodness sake. Truly, after all we've been through together?" There was now a note of anger in his voice. "I was there for you when you had no one, Angel, and I asked for nothing in return. Nothing. And this is what I get?"

Angel bit her lip, but stood her ground. It was true, he had done a lot for her. Loaned her his car, helped her look for a new job. Been a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear to talk to during difficult times. He had taken her to places and shown her things she had never seen before and yet, in the time with him she had been afloat, drifting away from who she really was. Trying to see the world through his eyes, she couldn't help but feel that all her efforts had left her blind.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore," she answered miserably.

"So that's it, is it?" She could hear the disbelief in his tone. "You are shutting me out just because you accidentally contributed to some drunk's death? I'm the one being punished?"

"I'm not blaming you, Cain!" she exclaimed tearfully. Why wasn't he understanding that she needed space? But Angel knew it was much more than simply wanting a break from him. The truth was, after finding out about Salt saving her, and his consequent handling of everything, she didn't want to be anywhere near him.

"That isn't how it looks to me," he retorted accusingly.

"It's my fault," she said quietly, although she recalled her accident, recalled him covering up Salt's aid, recalled the incident in the nightclub - a place, she had to admit, she would not have visited had he not insisted - and knew she had more than enough to blame him for, that there was more than enough that he was responsible for, too. The strength simply failed her to argue further with him. "I did this. It's me! I need space."

He heaved an irritated sigh. "Very well, I'll give you your space. We'll talk this over when you feel better and are more open to reason. When you realise I had no hand in the misery you're putting yourself in."

She was silent at that.

"Who are you going to turn to, then?" He added. "Your so-called friends? Your family? Who do you have but me, darling?" The endearment felt like an entrapment and Angel blinked at his scathing tone.

"I can't do this right now, please, just leave me alone," she pleaded, pressing a hand to her temples where she could feel a headache brewing.

"As you wish, Angel," Cain threw back, "Hope you get better soon. That bum isn't worth all this trouble."

Something inside her snapped, and a sudden rage exploded through her at his continued insensitivity, and with it, came the force of life.

"Wasn't," she hissed at him.

"Pardon?"

"Wasn't, because he's dead! And yes he is worth it! He had parents. A family! Hopes and dreams!"

Cain released an incredulous laugh. "Darling. He's been in the hospital every other weekend for some kind of self-inflicted accident. The only hopes he had were to drink himself to death."

Once again, his complete apathy for the man's lost life made Angel's skin crawl.

"What-?" Tears streamed down her face as she shouted into the phone, "What makes you think he's any less than you or me?! Is it because he doesn't have as much money as you? Because he didn't have a fancy car? Because he was an alcoholic? We don't know his story, and now we never will! No one will! Because I ended it! Me! I'm the one who tore out the rest of his blank pages, I took the pen away, I brought it to a close. It was me!"

She pressed a hand to her mouth as a deep sob threatened to escape from her chest. She didn't want Cain to hear it, to belittle her anymore and shoot down the significance of what had happened when clearly he didn't care at all.

"Be realistic, Angel," Cain answered. "The most you did is end that man's suffering. You're shocked, I understand, but give it time. You'll see. I need to head back into work now, but I hope you come back to your senses. Don't do anything foolish, alright?"

Angel hated him at that moment. She hated the callousness with which he disregarded the loss of life. She hated the condescending way he spoke to her. She hated how he simply could not understand what was so blatantly obvious.

She did not answer him and withdrew her phone from her ear, ending the call.

She knew what Cain wanted from her. He wanted her to put this behind her. Just as he had wanted her to put the accident behind her. To put losing her job behind her and put losing her friends behind her. He wanted her to devote her time and herself to him. To make herself available to him in ways she was now certain she didn't want to.

She recalled his prim and polished appearance in the hospital, his easy smiles no matter how hard she was crying, and realized bitterly, that her feelings, her grief, her suffering, never once truly registered for Cain. They were all things he wanted her to ignore, to put down, and provide him with her undivided attention instead. It made her feel small and foolish.

You'll understand when you meet someone with ill-intentions. People can do a hell of a lot worse than lie to protect you, believe me.

Levi's words echoed in her head with resounding clarity, her experiences of the past few months giving them new meaning. She had never felt so alone. So lost. Burying her head in her hands, she allowed her grief to consume her.

She had finally voiced aloud what she had done and although it shattered her very soul, now that she had, she realized what she needed to do. It was obvious. It was the only chance at redemption she had. The only way she could attempt to honor the man's death.


The young woman standing on the other side of the counter was a sight to behold, and the officer at the reception raised an eyebrow as she introduced herself. Shadows had collected under her eyes, the clothing beneath her coat was wrinkled and looked slept in, her hair was tangled and pulled back in a careless ponytail and her eyes shone with a frenzied desperation even as she clutched at her shoulder bag nervously. The young woman had foregone both a hat and gloves in the freezing December weather and her pale face was blotched with red where the icy winter wind had stung her cheeks.

"Miss… Caelum, was it? What was it again that you wanted to confess to?"

Angel stared at the police officer in wide-eyed panic. The weight of what she was about to repeat hit her full force. She opened her mouth to answer, feeling that her throat was clogged, as if it couldn't quite form the word again. This was it, she knew. Once she confessed, she'd be taken in, her family would find out about her crime, and her life as she knew it would be over.

She gulped, the gravity of the situation washing over her. In her mind, she knew that her life had already ended the moment she had killed the man.

"I…" she answered shakily. Somehow, speaking it to a law-enforcing police officer brought the unforgivable horror of her actions into even sharper relief. Quivering, she forced herself to choke out, "I killed… a man, I…"

She could not bring herself to meet the police-woman's gaze, torn between guilt and the necessity of having the officer believe her. They wouldn't turn her away or think her a babbling lunatic, would they? Were they even allowed to, legally?

"Right," the woman continued doubtfully, "and you want us to take your statement?"

Angel nodded mutely, her eyes welling with tears.

The short-haired police officer regarded her dubiously. "Miss Caelum. Are you sure you're presently sound in both mind and body to make a statement today?" She pressed gently, suspecting the contrary.

"Y-yes," Angel stammered, clutching at the leather strap of her purse more firmly in an attempt to banish her trembling. Murderers needed to be punished. It made no difference if she was the one who was guilty of that crime.

She watched the woman with the sharp eyes and angular haircut purse her lips together thoughtfully. It was obvious she had her doubts about the entire situation and Angel could all but see her mull it over.

"Cadet," a warm, deep baritone sounded from Angel's right, and she whipped around to the source of the sound.

She found a muscular, broad-shouldered man approaching. He wore his short blond hair combed neatly back and a neutral, stoic expression that made it impossible to guess what went through his mind. When he came to a stop beside Angel, she found that he was so tall he towered easily over her slight frame.

"Cadet Bernstein," he repeated, "my guest has arrived. Would you be so kind as to bring some tea up to the office?"

"Yes, of course, right away Mr. Smith," the receptionist all but jumped to her feet, visibly nervous.

"No, that won't be necessary. A citizen clearly has a matter that needs tending to, first." He glanced towards Angel and his clear blue eyes took in her distressed state.

"Is anything the matter?" he questioned, directing his words at Miss Bernstein.

"No, sir. Miss Caelum here would like to make a confession." The woman stood straight as an arrow as she answered him.

"A confession?"

"To murder, sir." The policewoman's incredulity was apparent in her tone.

Erwin Smith looked from the woman in question to the cadet at the counter. His perceptive gaze formed an immediate, accurate estimate of the situation. The young brunette, clearly distressed, had come here guilt-ridden to make a confession and Cadet Bernstein was expressing her disinterest, or rather, her disbelief, quite openly.

"I will take Miss Caelum's statement," he announced, handing over the files. "Please bring tea over to the back office and go through the identification with my guest."

"But Mr. Smith, your jurisdiction -" the woman stammered helplessly.

"Yes?" The query was spoken gently, but the blank, unassuming expression that accompanied it had the woman snapping her mouth shut. It was not her place to question a direct command from a superior officer.

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Tea, not coffee, if you please, Miss Bernstein." Turning to Angel now, he gestured down the hallway he had come from, "Miss Caelum, if you would follow me."

Angel allowed herself to be led down the hallway, focusing on the sound of their shoes clicking down the tiled floor to keep her nerves at bay. Within her chest, her heart was racing fitfully. She was doing the right thing. There had to be some sort of justice or she would never be able to look herself in the eye again. She had to try, somehow, to make things right.

He opened the door to an office and gestured for her to enter. Sunlight streamed in from the windows at the opposite end where a large desk stood supporting an attached computer and any number of files. In the middle of the room was an oak table surrounded by four chairs of the same quality, padded with blue corduroy.

"Please, have a seat."

Angel did as she was instructed while the taller man gathered forms and a pen. "Coffee? Tea?" he called over his shoulder.

"No," Angel whispered automatically, interlocking her fingers in her lap nervously. She almost immediately regretted her decision as her throat had gone dry with apprehension and was relieved when Mr. Smith set a glass of water before her.

"Your identification card, Miss Caelum."

Angel fished into her bag with trembling fingers. It took her several attempts to retrieve the required document. Erwin watched her actions with experienced eyes, easily surmising her mental state. She handed him the card, and as he accepted it, she immediately burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry," she wept inconsolably. "I- I'm s-so sorry, it was an- an accident, I didn't m-mean for it to happen and I-!" She lifted her hands helplessly. "I don't know how, I only pushed him to get him off me and he- I'm so sorry, o-officer, I-!"

"Miss Caelum," he interrupted. "I need you to calm down so that I can take your statement accurately."

His words only caused her to sob and sniffle harder, and she lifted an arm, burying her face dejectedly into the crook of her elbow. Erwin quietly copied the information off of the card before sliding it back toward her. He then waited patiently for her weeping to subside.

"I'm s-sorry," Angel hiccuped at length, and took her card back, snivelling, her eyes already blurring with fresh tears.

"Are you ready to proceed?" he questioned.

Angel nodded miserably, wiping her nose with a tissue.

Erwin nodded. "Now, Miss Caelum, I hope you are aware that you are under no obligation to provide us with information that would incriminate yourself in any proceeding of law. Whatever you choose to tell me today, is wholly at your discretion, and your silence on any question in the matter cannot be held against you."

Angel nodded mutely, wiping her sweaty palms on her knees.

"Very well then, Miss Caelum. Why don't you tell me what happened?" Erwin leaned back in his chair and, despite his commandeering stature had a down-to-earth manner. Perhaps it was because he was the first person to finally take her seriously that she found her tongue and began her story. She relayed everything, doing her best to dampen the emotion that threatened to rise up and block her throat as she conveyed how she had been distressed on her way home, how she had stumbled through the alleyway, how the man had accosted her and then, how she had shoved him off furiously, the sickening crack she had heard and then - the certainty that he was dead.

She lowered her gaze and couldn't banish the tremors that ran through her body. Retelling the experience had been no different than reliving it in a way, and his large, unseeing eyes floated in her mind's eye, blood trailing from his lips as he rasped, "Murderer, murderer, you killed me…"

"-Miss Caelum." a voice broke through her thoughts.

Her head shot up, "I- sorry?"

"I said, did you inform the first responders of the events that had taken place?"

"I- yes, I tried, but they- they didn't believe me and I... I didn't know what else to do. I …" she bit her lip. That was a poor excuse. "I should have tried harder. I'm sorry. I don't know what took me this long to- I wanted to- I couldn't-" she broke off, her words muddled, too upset to continue.

Erwin leaned back in his chair and considered the young woman in front of him. It was obvious to him, in his years of experience, that the most they could try for in this case, provided the hospital corroborated the young woman's claims, would be an involuntary manslaughter. Any lawyer worth his salt would have that charge thrown out on account of self-defense.

For the young woman however, judging by her unkempt appearance, the shadows under her eyes alluding to sleepless nights, the trembling shoulders - guilt plagued her and her desire to turn the matter over to the authorities, to see justice done was understandable, admirable even. It was unfortunate that honesty never went unpunished.

"Miss Caelum, I assure you we will pursue your claim to the full extent of the law. Unfortunately, due to the severity of the allegations against you, we will need to take you into custody for the duration of the initial investigation. If the charges are cleared, you will be released within 48 hours. However, if your claims are confirmed, it is possible you will remain in custody until the date of your trial. Do you understand, Miss Caelum?"

Angel nodded numbly. She knew this was coming. What else had she expected? Forty-eight hours was nothing in comparison to the sentence that would surely follow.

A disembodied sensation came over her as she got to her feet and followed the officer out the door and down the hallway. She was received by a younger, female officer and led by the elbow to a check-in station where her purse and phone were taken from her in a singularly dehumanizing experience.

She watched in silence, reminding herself that this was only what she deserved. No, in fact, she deserved far worse.

"Miss Caelum, would you like to make a phone call before we take you in?" The blond woman asking the question spoke in a gentle tone of voice and Angel hesitated, considering.

Who could she possibly call? Certainly not her parents. She didn't want them to worry and the thought of them learning what she had done made her stomach clench with a terrible anxiety. Not her brother Gabe, either. She didn't want to even imagine his reaction. Definitely not Cain, this was likely precisely the type of foolish thing he had meant when he told her not to do anything foolish. Who, then? Salt?

She bit her lip, recalling what she had only recently learned about the girl who was once her best friend. How she had come to her rescue that night and who knew how many others? She recalled the older woman's crestfallen face, as the words Angel now regretted bitterly had burst from her mouth.

Protect me? From what?! You're unbelievable!

You stay the fuck out of my life, Salt! I want nothing more to do with either of you!

Angel dropped her gaze, and shook her head quietly. She had no one left to call, and no one to blame for that but herself. She would bear all the consequences alone, because that was what she deserved.

She was led to a cell and a shudder passed down her spine as the barred gate slid open, metal scraping against metal. She entered, as was expected of her, and when the gate was slid back shut and locked, the other woman left without so much as a backward glance.

Trying not to succumb to her tears, Angel dropped on the provided cot glancing briefly at her barren surroundings, before lifting her feet onto the cot and hugging her knees to her chest. She rested her head against them, weeping quietly, and reminded herself that this was the right thing to do. This was how it needed to be. This was just the beginning.


Several hours prior

A knock on the door summoned Erwin's attention. He glanced at the phone, he wasn't expecting any visitors, and the receptionist had not informed him that someone had come for him. Despite that, he had a vague idea of who it could be.

"Come in," he answered evenly.

The door swung open, revealing none other than Levi Ackerman standing sullenly in the doorway.

"You called? I'm here. Let's get this over with."

"Good to see you again, Levi." Erwin leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

Levi shot him a look and closed the door behind himself, "Didn't want to give you the opportunity to lord this over me for who knows how long. Give me the files and I'll have a look."

Levi stopped a moment before seating himself at the provided table and gave Erwin an incredulous look. "What's with your uniform? It doesn't match." He indicated over his shoulder, referring to the other police officers in the building.

"Ah, yes. I'm the Director of the Organised Crime Command of the NCA, now. A somewhat different position from the last time we met." Erwin explained offhandedly. "I'm only here for a short time, investigating some corruption charges."

"Is that even something you should be telling me?" Levi frowned.

"Well, as you know, I hope to tell you a lot more than this. I am sure you are aware I now find myself in a unique position to surround myself with those I find most suited to the needs of my department. The post I've held open for you remains."

Levi stared blankly at the man opposite him. It never failed to surprise him that Erwin simply refused to give up. For all Levi's insistence over the years that he had no interest whatsoever in switching sides, Erwin had never stopped trying to recruit him.

"And unless you're getting as old as you look, I'm sure you still remember that I said no." Levi settled into the seat at the table and crossed his legs, lifting his arm over the backrest. "Last I checked, I'm the one who decides. Don't you have people who are actually trained for that job? Just how broke is the NCA that you won't stop hounding me?"

"I need someone I can trust, Levi."

"Don't talk to me about trust," Levi threw back. "You barely know me."

"I know enough to know that if I could win for myself whatever loyalty it is that still binds you to that criminal organisation, I will have found myself a most promising ally. Of that, I have no doubt." Erwin's piercing blue eyes met Levi's own and for a moment, Levi hesitated.

"I'm not trading one shithole for another. How is this any better? Both sides robbing people to finance their own crap. Your lot just has fancier uniforms, but the filth I've seen here is no different from that on the other side."

"I won't deny that there are people of dubious virtue in places of power. Which is why it is all the more important that people like ourselves do not sit back and allow it to happen. Help me, Levi. Get rid of the filth for me. I will give you the power to do so."

Levi hesitated. He thought of the ones he had left behind. The people working for that gang, who considered him a brother, still, despite the fact that he had turned his back on them. People he owed a debt of gratitude to. And in addition to them, the single individual he owed his very life to. He didn't have it in him to betray them for his own personal gain and beyond that, accepting Erwin's offer meant making enemies. Powerful enemies. Any one of them would be on his back, ready to strike at his weaknesses.

Large, soulful brown eyes appeared before his mind's eye, brimming with helpless adoration. An easy, abashed smile. Impossibly long, black hair. A warm embrace. A voice calling his name like he was all that mattered in the world.

"No means no, Erwin," he determined with a scowl, "And don't hold your breath because I won't be changing my mind. I asked for a favor, you wanted me to pay you back, so I'm here. Do you have those files or not? I have a business to run."

"Right," Erwin agreed with a smile as he rose to his feet.

"Oi," Levi narrowed his eyes at the man, "What are you laughing about?"

"The pauses." Erwin responded easily. "Before you decline. They are starting to get longer. It's amusing."

Levi frowned in response. "Like I said, don't hold your breath. You'll keel over."

Erwin chuckled and shook his head, "Let me get those files for you. Thank you for your assistance on this case."

"Hn," Levi responded, which was as much of a "you're welcome" as Erwin was likely to get.

It surprised Levi, then, when instead of Erwin, a wiry young woman appeared in the office, bearing a tray of tea and a manila folder under her arm.

When Levi extended his hand for the file, she ignored him and set down the tea instead, pouring out a cup for him.

"Mr. Ackerman," she began, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Let us begin with the identification procedure as Mr. Smith intended."

She flipped open the file and Levi frowned in ill-concealed irritation.

"Oi," he began, leveling a withering stare at her, "give me the file, or I'm leaving. You can explain it to your boss. I won't be back."

She blinked at him, taken aback.

"You have five seconds."

She knew that Mr. Smith was rather unorthodox and employed unusual methods but always exhibited unparalleled results. Could she take responsibility for driving away their informant? Could she take responsibility for having disclosed a confidential file? Something about the man's irritated, intent stare gave her the feeling he knew what he was talking about and she mutely handed over the file.

Flipping through the pages, Levi skimmed over the attached profiles and photographs. He scanned the progress of the investigation, the method of operations, the chain of crimes and corroborating evidence. When a photograph of a blond with glasses, a full beard and a smug smirk met his eye, he pulled it out of the file and tossed it onto the table.

"There's your guy. Give Erwin my regards." Without another word, Levi rose to his feet, ready to make his exit. He paused in the doorway, one hand resting on the golden doorknob, before turning back to the young woman staring nonplussed at the photograph, two cups of untouched tea steaming on the table.

"By the way, if you're going to be on your phone while making tea, it's going to end up tasting like piss. Just so you know."

The younger woman's mouth fell open in indignant shock and Levi turned to leave the room, shutting the door behind him.

He stalked down the hallway, stuffing his hands into his pockets. A debt repaid. Now, he could go back to his own business and hopefully wouldn't ever have to see the inside of this shitty building again. A glance at his phone revealed he had been gone for about two hours. Salt had been covering for him more than he was used to, lately. He owed her one.

He looked up when he saw Erwin approaching him from the opposite end of the hallway and his eyes widened at what he saw taking place behind the taller man. A policewoman was leading another, younger brunette away by the elbow. He recognised that hold, and knew where she was being taken. He hesitated, wanting to be sure, but under the few seconds of scrutiny he had, he was instantly certain. It was none other than Angel being led away to a holding cell.

The last time he had seen Angel had been on less-than-friendly terms, but he knew that the younger woman had been through more than her fair share of difficult times - that she just needed time to find her way back into her own headspace. Salt's words echoed back to him with resounding clarity. That the one who had gotten involved in Angel's life, the catalyst that had turned everything for the young woman into a neverending trainwreck, had been the god of death himself. A coward who refused to reveal his identity to their friend. By the looks of it, Angel's situation was going from bad to worse, and there was no way he was going to let Angel be caught in the inside of that cell that he, himself, had spent what felt like an eternity in.

"Oi," the intensity of his tone stopped Erwin in his tracks. Levi nodded down the hallway, "What's up with her? What happened?"

Erwin glanced over his shoulder. "An acquaintance of yours?" he asked.

"How much is bail?" Levi turned to the blond, cutting straight to the point.

"We've just taken her in, but it's likely to be 100,000 pounds." Erwin watched as Levi turned towards the reception.

The woman at the counter seemed surprised to find him standing there. "Can I help you?"

"Angelissa Caelum. You've just taken her in. I'm posting her bail."

"Um… just a moment," the receptionist turned to her computer screen, pulling up the file of the person in question. She turned to a stack of paper on the dividers behind her and pulled out a few forms. "Just fill these out, please."

Levi picked up the pen provided and set to filling out the indicated paperwork as Erwin stood silently beside him. He had always known Levi to be a lone wolf, with very few friends to speak of and none that he didn't know.

"How are you acquainted?" Erwin asked again in mild curiosity.

Levi ignored him, flipping the page to fill out the rest of the paperwork. How was he supposed to explain what Angel was? She wasn't just a friend. She wasn't just his girlfriend's best friend either. Somewhere along the road, she had turned out to be almost like their adopted child, as ridiculous as that sounded. One with a rebellious streak who had run away from home. Nothing unusual about that.

"She's family," Levi answered at last, pushing the clipboard back over the counter towards the receptionist. 100,000 pounds wasn't chump change, but he was fairly certain his savings would cover it.

Erwin blinked, taken aback. "I didn't realize you had any family."

"Oi," Levi knocked on the countertop, calling the receptionist's attention. "You have your shitty paperwork. Let her out. Now."

The receptionist looked up at Erwin, who only nodded in response, prompting the young woman to sprint down the hallway and relay his instructions.


Angel clutched her belongings to her chest as she stumbled down the hallway. She felt disoriented and weak from crying. She knew dimly, somewhere in the back of her mind that she must be a sight, that no one who knew her would recognize her, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

They had taken her in, only to release her an hour later. Someone had posted her bail? They would inform her of the results of the investigation? She was still making sense of it but her mind was bogged down, likely by the lack of sleep and nutrition from the past three days of self-deprivation. She wished the verdict would fall and she could just accept whatever fate awaited her. Hanging in limbo this way, neither here nor there, was torture.

What would the consequences of her actions be? She wanted justice done but she couldn't deny that she was afraid. Would she spend the rest of her life in a jail cell like the holding cell she had just left? Her eyes did not seem to dry out, as fresh tears resurfaced at the mere thought. What would her parents and siblings say?

Clinging to her belongings, she stumbled through the glass doors of the police station. Who had posted her bail? Who even knew she was here? Had Cain somehow found out and… ? The thought made her feel sick to her stomach. No, it wasn't possible. Cain would still be there if he had, wanting to receive her gratitude. She knew that much about him, at least.

She lifted her eyes to the road and saw a raven-haired man, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against a wall of the police station. The angular face was as familiar as the piercing grey irises that observed her from the corner of his eyes.

"Levi…" she breathed, stunned, as clarity crystallized in her mind. He had been there. He had posted her bail. He had saved her. Yet again. She couldn't bring herself to question what he had been doing there, she was so overwhelmed by sheer gratitude at seeing him at all. A familiar face. One of her own. Someone who actually cared.

He pushed away from the wall and unfolded his arms, his gaze both wary and concerned. Angel could not, in that moment, clearly recall all that had fallen between them before. The hurtful words, the bitter shouting, the grudge she held against him - there had been many, she knew. But more than anything else, she needed a friend, one who wanted nothing from her in return. Guilt and grief, both at the events of three days prior as well as everything she had said to her closest friends blocked her throat as her eyes welled with tears.

"Levi!" her voice broke in a cry, as she let her belongings fall to the floor and rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing miserably, pathetically. She heard him sigh and pat her head comfortingly, one hand resting loosely on her back.

He said nothing, letting her cry it all out. He suspected these tears were a long time in coming. Angel had gone down a spiraling road of despair and rash decisions, bogging herself ever deeper in a filth she failed to recognize. Although he had told Salt to leave Angel to it, that move had largely been to separate the two girls that seemed to be incapable of coexisting at that point without deeply hurting one another. So long as the consequences remained within limits, it was fine for Angel to see and learn where her actions led. But this - he had to draw the line here.

He was acutely aware of his own newfound knowledge - of the danger that lurked in darkness, its eyes ever fixed on their friend. As well as the identity of the mysterious masked stranger that seemed to have his own, unfounded interest in Angel as well as captured Angel's attention - if not her affection. The dark mysteries and manipulative shadows that had ensnared the younger woman's entire life… the cruelty of that was not lost on him.

Angel clung to him and cried for who knew how long. Levi allowed it, the comforting way he patted her head, somehow casting an illusion that everything would be alright. He cast a cold look at passersby, a warning that scared them off.

When her sobs finally subsided, reduced to an incessant hiccupping, he drew back, casting a look at her tear-stricken eyes, her reddened face.

"Tch." She was in a state unlike any he had ever seen her in before. Was this the same Angel they had known, ever impeccably dressed and styled as if she were about to be photographed at any moment? Her hair was disheveled, her clothes wrinkled and her face sickly pale. Had she showered in the last week? He doubted it.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" he scolded, "You're a sight."

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes, shoulders still trembling. Levi looked up the walkway at the people milling in and out of the police station. He pulled a packet of tissues out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Here, blow your nose," he instructed, before turning away, muttering to himself under his breath, "Always getting snot on my shirt."

He collected her purse and phone from the pavement in front of the doors to the police station, tilting the phone in the sunlight to ensure the screen hadn't cracked, before returning to Angel's side.

"C'mon," he took a hold of her hand and led her out of the courtyard, "Let's get out of here."

Angel allowed herself to be led away, grateful not to have to think about what she should do next or what was going to happen to her, more than willing to let someone else take over.

"You here on foot?" Levi asked over his shoulder, and when she nodded mutely, still sniffling, he led her to the familiar black jeep parked at the side of the road. He opened the door on the passenger's side and handed her her belongings before climbing into the driver's seat.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself into trouble again," he began, turning the ignition.

She nodded, the simple words bringing on a fresh bout of tears. She raised her hands to her face and wept miserably. Levi cast her a glance but said nothing further as he turned the vehicle smoothly onto the road. Minutes passed in silence as Angel wept.

"... I don't like it…" she mumbled through her tears.

"Huh?" he dragged his eyes away from the traffic to the miserable brunette.

"The slippery slope…" she sobbed, "... I don't like what's at the bottom."

To this, he said nothing and frowned grimly. She wasn't entirely at fault. She hadn't made decisions that were any dumber than someone else her age might have. For Angel, however, the consequences were somehow entirely out of proportion to the mistakes she made.

"You're not at the bottom," he answered easily, "We're not ever going to let you end up at the bottom, Angel. Don't be stupid."

When the car slowed and pulled to a stop, Angel looked up to find that they had come to a stop at an isolated rest stop on the highway, overlooking the Vauxhall lake in the distance.

"Where are we?" Angel questioned, looking up in surprise.

"Neither here nor there." Levi answered, reaching towards the back seat where he retrieved a thermos cup of tea Salt had prepared for him that morning. "Here," he handed it to Angel, "You're going to swallow your pride and tell me what's going on before I decide what to do with you."

Angel clutched the insulated tumbler, allowing the warmth to seep into her frozen fingers. When she did not move, Levi reached over and flipped open the lid.

"Drink," he instructed, eyeing her warily.

Angel inhaled and the sweet smell of black tea with honey and ginger met her nose. She could almost hear Salt's monologue about how good honey was for you, and how ginger fought off colds. She frowned miserably before taking a sip and wanted to cry again as the sweet, refreshing flavor flooded her senses, the warmth banishing the cold from her bones. It tasted like home, tasted like happier times, tasted like Salt's senseless love.

"Tell me what happened." Levi repeated, his gaze fixed on the body of water glistening beyond.

Angel frowned and squeezed her eyes shut. Images rushed back unbidden. Wide, unseeing blue eyes. Blood. Flashing blue and red lights. The callous reactions of the paramedics. Cain's cruel comments.

She shuddered. Levi was as unshakable as a mountain, though, wasn't he? Always unruffled, nothing ever surprised him. If anyone could help her…

"I… I killed someone," she whispered so quietly, she scarcely heard herself.

Looking up at her friend, the soft look in those otherwise cold, grey eyes made apparent that he had heard her. He said nothing, his demeanor unchanged, as unsurprised as if she had announced she had caught a cold.

His calm patience and his wordless support broke the dam and the words tumbled out of her mouth one after another. The evening with Cain, her distress, her desire to be alone, the fact that he had lied to her - what exactly the falsehood entailed, she kept to herself, still unable to process the truth of it and what it implied for herself and her friend - and then the fury with which she cast off the homeless man. The terrifying moment she realized the life had gone out of him, the unfeeling reactions of the paramedics.

When the words were spent, having left her in a rush, she fell to silence. Her tears still streamed steadily from her eyes as she stared unseeingly at the leather surface of the glove compartment before her.

She released a shaky sigh and pressed a hand to her forehead. "I should have been the one to die. I had no right, I…" she trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"Alright," Levi said finally, his narrowed eyes settling on the frozen lakeside. "Let's say you're right."

Angel blinked up at him.

"You killed a man. You're a murderer. You're trash, you deserve to die. That's your point, right?" He angled his head to meet her eyes.

"I mean…" it was the first time someone acknowledged that she had in fact, killed the man instead of trying to soften the blow and talk it down. It cleared her mind somehow, to not have to convince him of the fact, but to have him simply accept it.

"What would you change if you could go back in time?"

"I… I wouldn't have touched him! I wouldn't have retaliated, and whatever the consequences…" she protested desperately.

"He had a broken bottle to your throat," Levi reminded her, "So, you would have let him kill you?"

"I …" she shuddered, "I don't know if he would have really done it."

"You don't have any reason to believe he wouldn't have, either." Levi watched her patiently, waiting for her to connect the dots.

"If that was my fate, yes. I would have rather accepted that, than… than…" she bit her lip to fight back the tears that were threatening to flood over again.

"Okay, fine, you let him kill you. A virtuous martyr. A saint, you are, Angel. Everyone will hold a standing ovation at your shitty funeral. Your parents bury another daughter. Your brothers lose another sister. But hey, you almost died a few months ago, anyway, so they at least warmed up to the idea already, right?"

His tone was so neutral, so calm and even, Angel couldn't tell if he was being serious.

"Levi, I…" confused, she looked up at him helplessly. "How can you say that?"

"Not me." He pointed towards her, "You're the one saying it."

Angel didn't know what to say to that and stared at him, perplexed.

"Does your 'every life is precious' schtick not apply to yourself? Every time you choose to protect something, you are risking something else. That's how it works. If you don't want to hurt anyone, you can't protect anyone, either."

"You killed that guy, in exchange for sparing your mother the loss of another daughter. Your brothers the loss of another sister. That's the exchange you made. They get to sleep in peace at night because you protected yourself. No one's calling them up, telling them to plan a funeral."

She dropped her gaze to her clenched fists in her lap. It made logical sense, but why did it feel so wrong?

"Before you say things like you should have let him kill you, think about whether or not that's the advice you would give your family. Is that what you would have wanted them to do? You did what you were supposed to do. Your DNA is wired that way for a reason. Always fight to survive. Nothing is worth laying down your life for."

When she still said nothing, he frowned. "Oi, are you listening?"

She nodded mutely, still confused. Although, when she put her mind to it, if she had to weigh her options, she would never choose to put her family through that pain again. If those were her only options, to suffer for what she had done, or to put her family through the agony of loss again… she would rather be this way, not able to look herself in the eye, a monster in her own sight.

"Let's get you home," Levi decided, starting the car again. "Will you be alright on your own, or would you rather come to the tea shop?"

Seeing the panicked way she turned to him suddenly, he turned his eyes back to the road. "Tch, stupid question."

The drive back to Angel's apartment passed in silence as Angel mulled over Levi's words. In the past, when they had spoken of death, she had thought his point of view stemmed from a place of ignorance, that he had not dealt with it as intimately as she had. That he did not respect it enough. Now, however… she realized with shame that she had judged her friend unfairly. The calm, decisive way he spoke. The unsurprised way he dealt with her situation indicated he may have been through more than she had ever suspected.

She lifted her eyes to him as he made a smooth left turn.

That's the funny thing about death. The one it touches is a saint, and the one who deals it is a devil. But is that always true?

She frowned to herself. She couldn't live with the knowledge of what she had done, but she couldn't take it back, and she had no other choice but to live with it. She wondered if Levi's perpetually resigned expression stemmed from a similar pain.

When he slowed to a stop in front of the apartment building she handed him the empty mug with a quiet thanks. Levi accepted the cup, depositing it into the cupholder before unbuckling his seat belt.

"You're not off the hook, yet." He nodded towards the building, "Come on."

Angel bit her lip, but relented. She didn't have it in her to argue with him. He was like a beacon of sanity at the moment, one she couldn't bring herself to relinquish.

When she pushed open the door, Levi followed on her heels and she suddenly grew aware of the general state of chaos of her apartment, and how dark it was, with all the drapes drawn shut. She cast a nervous glance at Levi, knowing how he was about disorder, but for once, he made no snide comments as he quietly stepped out of his shoes.

Vetty appeared in the hallway in front of her, mewling pitifully and Angel was suddenly reminded of the last time Levi had brought her to her apartment. The desperate way Salt had been attacking Vetty. The very cat whose entry into her life marked the beginning of all the strange twists and turns that had plagued her since. What did Salt know about Vetty that Angel didn't? How desperate to protect her must Salt have been to be driven to kill Vetty?

There are friends for good times, friends for bad times… and then there are friends that would kill for you. Don't screw this up.

She frowned, recalling Levi's words, realizing for the first time that Salt's attack on Vetty had been a sacrifice of sorts, as well. Taking a life meant sacrificing one's own humanity.

No, she didn't want to think this way. She didn't want to justify taking a life in any way, shape, or form.

But if she hadn't… she would be dead now, wouldn't she? Who would feed Vetty? Who would break the news to her parents? Who would tell Salt she was sorry? Would Itachi ever come to know what had happened to her? Would he care?

No! Why were all these selfish thoughts springing up in her mind?

It was Levi's lecture, she realized, making her feel like her life mattered more than it did. It was the height of cruel arrogance to think her life was worth more than the one that was lost.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, steering her towards the bathroom. "Go take a shower, you smell like you haven't so much as seen water in a week." Leaving her in the doorway to the bathroom, Levi turned towards the kitchen, adding over his shoulder, "And do something about your hair."

Self-consciously, Angel lifted a hand to her hair, before exchanging a look with Vetty, and doing as she had been told. When she met her reflection in the mirror, she was surprised to see just what a mess she was. Had she gone out like this? She shook her head. No, that didn't matter. What did it matter what a killer looked like? She tried to summon the crushing, debilitating guilt that had all but broken her shoulders from its weight, but it refused to resurface with the same force that it had before.

When she exited the bathroom, her wet hair wrapped up in a towel, dressed in an oversized, lavender sweater and a pair of black leggings, she saw that the apartment had been picked up. There was no sign of the chaos she had left it in. Levi had cleaned, in record time, and thrown open the curtains filling the space with dim winter sunshine.

The smell of something delicious wafted over from the kitchen and Angel's stomach rumbled in response. She hadn't felt hunger in days, but she couldn't deny the appeal of whatever Levi was cooking up. Clean and hungry and alive, Angel frowned. Did she really have a right to live? Despite everything Levi had said, she wasn't sure. It was her job to fight, he had said, to survive.

When she entered the kitchen, she saw that he had prepared a portion of fried rice with vegetables, whipping up something delicious out of whatever he had found in the fridge. He looked up at her as she entered and motioned for her to be seated at the table.

He set a glass of water on the table and filled a plate with the rice, before setting it in front of her. She took the spoon he offered her with mixed feelings. She was hungry but this was the first meal she would be eating since the terrible accident three days prior. It felt wrong. Fuelling her own life with a delicious meal when she had ended another only days ago. She glanced guiltily at Levi, wondering how to express her feelings when he narrowed his eyes at her, reading her mind.

"If you want to be rid of me, then eat." He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I'm not leaving until you do."

She relented and lifted a spoonful of steaming rice to her mouth, swallowing her guilt before taking a bite. It was delicious, just like everything he cooked, and her eyes filled with guilty tears.

"Oi, there's enough salt in there. Cut it out." His reprimand drew a bitter laugh from her and she stopped immediately, pressing a hand to her mouth. She had no right to laugh. What was wrong with her?

"Stop it," she protested, dropping her gaze back to the plate in front of her.

"You can't live and not live at the same time, Angel," Levi sighed. "Eat, sleep, and laugh. You will sooner or later, anyway. Not like you can help it."

She nodded miserably, and set about clearing her plate.

"Alright, while you're busy, let's set some things in the clear. What were you doing at the police station?" He was suddenly all business and matter-of-fact and that sidetracked her sufficiently to eat without thinking too much about it.

"I was there to confess."

"Are you stupid?" The incredulous tone of his voice, openly irritated, surprised her.

"Policemen are not your friends. They're not there to help you figure things out. You give them a confession, they'll tear you apart like starving dogs. You can forget your phone, but don't forget your brain when leaving the house."

He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he reevaluated the situation.

Angel glanced up at Levi. This must be what Salt liked about him. His laidback nature until the world came crashing down. The way he then took charge and set things to rights. He was reliable, kind, and she didn't deserve his help.

"Listen up, you are not ever going back there. Not without a lawyer. The next time you do something stupid, call me first. Or someone else you trust. Don't make rash decisions on your own, especially not if you're in a shitty headspace."

Angel frowned. She couldn't afford a lawyer. She hadn't thought about it. She simply wanted justice done. She had wanted to be punished for her actions, wanted someone or something to ease the agonizing guilt.

Instead of voicing all this, she nodded quietly instead. "Okay."

When Levi's phone sounded with an incoming message, he paused to read it and type out a brief reply. Angel watched him answer the message, knowing who it likely was. Her heart clenched with an inexplicable emotion. She missed Salt so terribly, it physically hurt. But what could be done when she had pushed her away herself? When she had spoken such cruel words to her?

Salt was in league with Itachi. She knew what was going on in her life and had stubbornly refused to reveal even the faintest scraps of that knowledge. The truth of that still stung, it still hurt to know that Salt would never be honest with her and yet… Angel didn't know if that justified the terrible distance that had grown between them. Could they ever reconcile? Would Salt even want to? How could she show her face to Salt, with the way she had been shunning her while Salt had only been trying to protect her? There were arguments, she knew, somewhere in the back of her mind. Salt had been in the wrong, too. Stalking her, lying to her, deciding over her head… but were they worth losing her friend over? She wasn't so sure anymore. Worst of all, she wasn't sure if the moment to decide hadn't already passed.

When Levi pocketed his phone, Angel raised hazel eyes to his imploringly. "Please don't tell Salt about this."

Levi hesitated. He wasn't the type to go and tell Salt every little thing that happened. At the same time, he didn't like the idea of someone telling him to intentionally keep something from her. Would it do Salt any good to know about this, though? She would probably race out of the tea shop and move in with Angel until she felt better, whether or not that was something the brunette actually wanted. Probably not, given the request she had just made.

"I don't want her to worry," Angel added, when Levi failed to answer.

Levi frowned, his decision made. With all the secrets that were being kept from Angel, he supposed she was entitled to a few of her own.

"Why would I mention you to Salt if I could help it?"

Angel blinked, the response harsher than she had expected. "Right," she acknowledged, lowering her head guiltily.

Salt was still a sore point between them. They had been on the same page in protecting her, from herself when necessary, and trying to keep her generally happy between them, until everything had taken a turn for the worse and instead of being on the same page, Levi had found himself protecting Salt from Angel.

"Let's not talk about Salt. I won't be mentioning this to her." Levi offered, not wanting to pick a fight with Angel as miserable as she was.

Angel nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Thanks."

Picking at her food, she blinked through the tears welling in her eyes. She didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to bridge the gap that had formed over the past few months.

Levi pocketed his phone and pushed away from the counter, satisfied to see that Angel had finished her meal.

"Alright, I'm headed out. Let me know when you get mail about your little confession. I'll see what I can do. Get some sleep for now." Levi nodded at her in parting and Angel suddenly felt desperate for him to stay, even though she knew she had no right to ask that of him.

"You need us, you know where we are." Levi intoned, "If you don't want to deal with Salt, just send me a message and I'll come around, but don't do anything else stupid."

Angel nodded, not trusting herself to speak, afraid she would ask him to stay if she opened her mouth.

He ruffled her hair as he passed by her, "It'll get better, give it time."

She swallowed thickly, choked out a thanks, and then he was gone.


Fog rolled in in waves, coiling around Nyx's ankles. She blinked at the white mist, feeling out of place but without quite recognizing where she was meant to be. Dark-green foliage hovered over her head, an ominous canopy. She glanced at the darkness overhead with a disapproving frown. She was queen of the underworld and had nothing to fear.

She pushed through the mist. Even if she wasn't sure where she belonged, it was clear she couldn't stay here. Her midnight blue skirts rustled as she walked and she refused to look over her shoulder as she made her way across the dewy grass, the smell of pine trees in the air.

A distant, sniffling sound met her ears and her mother's heart shook with trepidation. Pressing a palm to the treacherous organ, she slowly turned on her heels, her eyes searching for the crying child. Was it Itachi? Sasuke? No, they were both grown. She no longer had a child that would weep in such a manner.

The child's voice continued, sobbing miserably. Wailing and whining in despair, the thin voice pierced her ears, refusing to be ignored. Pressing her lips together, Nyx strode purposefully in the direction she had come from, determined to have a world with the child. What was the meaning of disturbing the general populace with her grievances?

When she, at last, discovered the child, both hands pressed to their face, shrouded by their long, midnight hair, dressed in a disheveled blue chiton, she frowned and scanned the area. Where were the parents? What were they thinking, leaving this child unattended? She would have a word with them, sure as she was Goddess of the Night. Such irresponsible behavior.

"Child," she masked her irritation with a soothing tone of voice. "Why do you weep?"

The child paid her no heed, and only wept more bitterly, pressing the heel of their palms against their eyes. What and who was this child? God, mortal, nymph? Nyx could not recognize them. How had they come to be in the underworld at all?

She clicked her tongue. "Such behavior," she admonished. "Surely, your parents would not approve. Return to your home at once."

The child sucked in a breath before lifting their chin and releasing another blood curdling wail. The more Nyx attempted to soothe the child, the more fervently it wept, its cries growing ever louder.

All pretense of kindness forgotten, Nyx's ire with the lost child grew with every passing moment, with every assault on her ears. "Cease your incessant weeping at once! Your queen commands you!"

The child paid no heed, wailing without pausing for breath.

"What is the matter with you?! What do you fear so terribly?!" Nyx pressed her hands to her ears to block out the irritating, grating sound.

At last, the child responded, lifting a hand to point towards the fog straight ahead, even as their tears and cries went on, unabating.

Narrowing her eyes to see more clearly through the mist, trepidation shot through her as she saw an imposing, dark silhouette approaching. She watched the figure approach with bated breath and breathed a sigh of relief when she finally recognized him. Long, spiky black hair. Intense, vermilion eyes. Tall and broad-shouldered.

She released an incredulous laugh. "Foolish child," she turned towards the little one, "Why, that's only our Lord Cronus. What is the matter with -" Nyx froze as surely as the women collected at the bottom of the oceans as the child turned slowly towards her and she recognized suddenly who she was looking at.

It was herself.

Her own, tear-stricken onyx eyes. Her disheveled, midnight hair. Her trembling shoulders and endless tears. "Please," the child begged soundlessly, the words sounding within Nyx's consciousness.

Cronus grew ever closer, step by step, and her child self fell to her knees, clinging to the hem of Nyx's dress.

Nyx could not tear her eyes away from the child's own, her own, filled with tears and terror. She watched aghast, paralyzed, as the child mouthed two words, over and over, until her fear penetrated through Nyx's heart as well, settling into her bones.

"Save me."

Nyx awakened with a start. Her heart raced, her head throbbed dully, and she was drenched with cold sweat. Struggling to catch her breath, she swallowed thickly, her eyes darting around the room for a sign of the danger her dream had seemed to want to warn her from.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed a palm to her chest, seeking to calm her erratic heart beat. She turned on her side, blinking in wide-eyed surprise when she found Erebus beside her, lying awake and observing her quietly.

He reached out to gently stroke her soft cheek, before wrapping an arm around her and drawing her in close.

"A nightmare?" he murmured the question into her hair, rubbing her back comfortingly. His large, warm hand seemed to dispel the thick, cold fog that had permeated the land of her dreams, settling over her mind even as she awoke.

"What is it that you fear, wife?"

She curled into him, burying her face in the warmth of his broad chest. She swallowed, trying to convince herself of her words, before parting her lips to speak.

"I have nothing to fear."

She was the queen of the underworld and yet, that title bore little weight and provided little solace against her grievances. She believed in the power of dreams. That they were communications from the Fates. Wasn't it a dream that had warned her of Itachi's prolonged solitude, prompting her to serve the Fates in order to receive the Prophecy in the first place?

Whatever else was uncertain, one fact was painfully clear. Cronus' intentions were dubious at best. She could not ascertain why he had offered her his assistance or what his true plans with the child of prophecy were.

No, it was time to take matters into her own hands.


She watched the lamps illuminate through the windows, and was overcome by a strong sense of trepidation and urgency. Once more, she had managed to slip out of the Underworld undetected, but time, she knew, was of the essence. She saw no other way than this to acquire the girl. Her efforts to draw information from Cronus had proven fruitless, leaving her frustrated and concerned and following her nightmare the previous night, the thought of waiting any further to take the girl home filled her with anxiety.

Erebus had cautioned her to wait. She could not possibly wait any further. She had no idea what Cronus intended for the poor child who had just stepped out onto the balcony high above her. What if he meant her harm? How could she trust his judgement when she did not know the reasons behind his orders?

No, Nyx thought to herself fiercely. This time, she would not lose her chance. She could not. The girl was within reaching distance, there in the flesh, there for the taking. Surely Cronus would understand if she acquired the Child of Prophecy and brought her home? Had that not been what they had been working to achieve all along? What possible reason could there be for the delay? Her precious eldest son's happiness depended upon it, and she had already waited long enough.

Home. The girl would surely come to see it as such. Perhaps she would be upset and resist at first, but surely once she came to understand her destiny, surely once she recognised that she was the Child of Prophecy and intended for the God of Death himself, she would accept her fate without a fuss. Surely her heart would feel kindly toward Itachi, once she came to know his gentle nature.

Nyx had such plans, such hopes for the sweet child. She was the key to unlocking a future in which Nyx's entire family would be safe. She could not risk any harm befalling the mortal.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she willed the girl to look her way, sending forth a bird forged of shadows to fly up and capture Angel's attention. Nyx noted from her body language that the mortal seemed distressed, upset; she was resting her head in her hands forlornly as if deeply afflicted with troubles.

The bird reached her, and as Nyx had intended, the girl's tearful eyes lifted to look at it. The shadow-creature flitted about, until it perfectly aligned the girl's sight with Nyx's, where she was stationed on the ground beneath a tree far below the apartment block. Crimson glinted in the dark, meeting hazel across the distance for just a fraction of a minute.

That fraction was all Nyx needed, to capture her mind and command the girl to her.

'Come to me, child,' she communicated to the girl telepathically, and watched with satisfaction as she swayed uncertainly on her feet, before moving away from the balcony. Nyx waited expectantly, and just as intended, the mortal made her way down and stepped outside the building a few minutes later, looking around her, as if in a daze, searching for something unknown. There was bewilderment on her fair face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks were streamed with tears. Any pity Nyx might have once felt for her, was non-existent. She thought only of her Itachi. Of her plans to bring peace and prosperity to her family. To free the Underworld from a most tyrannical reign.

'This way,' Nyx gently beckoned, pulling at her mind through the powers of hypnosis her Sharingan afforded her. She moved as silently as a shadow in the darkness, leading the girl to a nearby alleyway, where a vortex of darkness materialised noiselessly in the ground. She saw the way the girl blinked at it in confusion - and then fear suddenly caused her to snap back to attention. She backed away in fear and horror.

Nyx pursed her lips, displeased. Her mind control abilities over such a distance were limited, nowhere near the proficient, powerful level commanded by her nephew, Shisui. Already she had lost her grip on the girl's mind and there was no way to reaffirm it unless she drew closer and made direct eye contact with her.

Nyx could not risk being seen, but it appeared the girl would not come quietly. Then she had no other alternative but to force the girl into the portal by another means. She could not reveal herself just yet. She had only one other option.

She lifted a finger to her lips, and whispered her command.

'"Do not harm her. Kill anyone who interferes."

Immediately, creatures of the night appeared around the girl, stepping out of plumes of darkness.


Angel had been gazing forlornly out at the street from her balcony, contemplating another day spent holed up indoors staring vacantly at the walls in her apartment, wallowing in the continued guilt and grief of her actions and an innocence forever lost. After Levi had departed the previous evening, she had spent another night tossing and turning restlessly in bed, until exhaustion had dragged her into fitful, sporadic bouts of slumber. She had awoken groggily the next day and done her best to force herself to eat, to busy herself with something, anything to drown out the deafening remorse that consumed her mind, but to no avail. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she had been unjustly spared in making bail. It didn't feel right. Nothing in her life felt right anymore and she had no hope of knowing what she could possibly do to make anything better, to fix it so that everything was alright again.

Those were her troubled, haunted thoughts as she'd looked out into the night, as if its hushed shroud could somehow reveal answers to her that her sleep-deprived eyes were failing to see - when the strangest sensation had suddenly crept over her, filling her with the abrupt desire to step outside her apartment building and take a late night walk. She'd thrown a grey cardigan hastily over her pyjama top and casual lounge joggers, put on her converses and made her way down to the street, her body seemingly compelled to walk toward a secluded side alley some distance away from the block.

As she walked into it, she snapped abruptly out of the peculiar trance that had befallen her and blinked, looking around her in confusion, unable to fathom how in the world she had even gotten there. Her eyes were then snagged by some movement in the right corner of her vision and she turned her head toward it, blinking slowly at the ground before her in a stunned daze, unable to comprehend what she was looking at.

It appeared to be a dark mass, one that seemed to be alive, pulsing with strange, uncanny black energy, swirling like a shadowy whirlpool. She felt a strong, eerie gravitational pull emanating from it. Angel stared at it, her brain struggling to register the bizarre reality of the situation. Was she dreaming? Imagining things? Had she finally reached the point of hallucinating in her extreme state of psychological distress and mental exhaustion? And yet she knew, without doubt, that she was indisputably awake. The biting coldness of the winter night air against her skin, her breaths condensing into the night as she exhaled, the unpleasant pounding in her chest, were all evidence of that.

Instinctively Angel shrunk back, terror seizing her as she gaped at the unknown occurence in disbelief. What in the world was that thing? How was it just appearing there before her very eyes? Things like that didn't just happen.

She continued to back away, alarmed, ready to bolt out the alleyway. But as she turned, she saw that another similar hole had started to appear in thin-air directly behind her, too large for her to move past without touching. Angel's heart jumped into her throat and her eyes widened in panic. Her breaths began to escape her lips in frightened, quick bursts. Instinctively she turned away and leapt over the vortex in the ground, sprinting further down the alleyway.

More otherworldly black-holes opened up around her as she ran, and she zig-zagged to avoid them. Angel didn't know what they were, or how it was scientifically possible that they were appearing, but something told her that she couldn't, under any circumstances, afford to be caught up in any of them.

She screamed when a gaping mass of darkness swirled into being in the wall right beside her, tripping over some trash cans in her haste to escape. As she stumbled to her knees, she watched, in horror, as one of the cans rolled into the gravitational vortex and vanished straight through the ground.

Angel gulped, heart hammering against her rib-cage, waiting for it to somehow reappear. It didn't. Against all possibility and logic, it had been dragged into a black-hole of sorts.

"Wha- what the…?" she panted, hysteria clawing at her chest. In a blind panic, she scrambled back up to her feet - when the sound of low, ominous growls echoed around her.

Before her very eyes, a pack of five dark hounds with silver, glowing eyes slunk out of a cloud of dark mist, heading straight toward her. Angel froze in disbelief, the blood in her veins turning to ice. They were large, muscular, powerful canines with razor sharp teeth and - her jaw dropped in horrified disbelief. Two heads. They each possessed two heads. She blinked rapidly, pulse hurtling, trying to dispel the impossible image, but the gruesome sight would not change before her wide eyes. They were truly there. She wasn't seeing things. They were advancing menacingly toward her, saliva dripping from their mighty jowls.

She drew in a breath and screamed in fear - right at the moment they lunged toward her, barking and snarling, in angry, blood-thirsty pursuit.


Salt had just finished placing a stack of dishes neatly away when she heard a familiar sound outside the kitchen window. The steady tap-tap-tap that heralded the arrival of Thanatos's crow. Her stomach lurched with dread and she froze in surprise. Again? Angel was in danger once more so soon?

Without a second thought or a moment to process the fact, she dropped the mug she had been about to wash carelessly into the sink, disregarding the way it cracked cleanly in two, and hastily yanked off her apron as she moved out of the kitchen. Frantically she dashed around the counter, missing the way Levi's eyes lifted to her, noting her blind panic.

"Oi," he called, following after her. "Salt."

The side door, she told herself distractedly. She would meet the bird in the alley and it would take her straight to Angel. Her mind spun with horrific scenarios, each one worse than the other. What had happened this time? She prayed that she wasn't already too late, as she had been during the previous accident, that she wouldn't once again discover Angel's poor, fragile mortal body lying prone, bleeding and in a terrible state somewhere.

"I'll be back-!" she called unthinkingly to Levi, yanking the door open that would lead her out into the alleyway where they deposited their trash. Sure enough, the crow swooped down, cawing loudly at her, and Salt leapt forward, reaching out to it, feeling the familiar pull as it drew her into its shadowy, transportational vortex-

The sound of feet pounding on concrete behind her reached her ears. A strong hand suddenly grabbed at her shoulders just before she made it through.

"Like hell I'm letting you go alone this time," Levi's voice spoke right behind her, and then everything was swirling to black, the world blurring around them as the crow conveyed them swiftly to Angel's location.

They touched down in another dark alleyway. Salt gulped, immediately turning to Levi, horrified that he had tagged along, her lips parting automatically to question him - but the sight that greeted them left no time for talking.

They spotted Angel running ahead, chased by a pack of two-headed, rabid dogs. To Salt's disbelief, black-holes were opening up in the ground and walls around her. She didn't recognise what they were. They were nothing like anything she had ever seen before, and seemed forged of chaotic dark energy.

"Angel!" she cried, and bolted forward. Levi fell wordlessly into step beside her, showing no visible reaction to the supernatural entities surrounding them, and was immediately practical, drawing out the large knife he'd grabbed from the counter the moment he had seen Salt race past him with the familiar look of stupid desperation on her face that he knew she only wore whenever Angel was in danger.

Without hesitation they sprinted after the pack. Salt lifted her hand, fashioning a blade of shadow as two of the dogs turned to confront them. Angel had almost reached the end of the alleyway and Salt could see that another dark vortex was starting to appear at her feet. The fear on her friend's face sent Salt hurtling forward to close the distance, desperate to reach her in time.

"Angel!" she called to her in warning. Angel's gaze lifted to hers, her eyes glazed with panic.

"S-Salt-?" she choked out in disbelief, halting in place, the brief moment of distraction allowing one of the hounds to close in and leap at her, knocking her to the ground.

"No!" Salt gasped, and slashed at the nearest dog with her shadow blade. She ducked just as another lunged at her, its deadly jowls extended - only for Levi to step between her and the hound. He stabbed his knife straight through one of the twin heads' jaws, sending dark blood spurting into the air, before wedging his blade between the eyes of the other, taking the creature out within seconds, his movements agile and lightning quick.

"Get Angel!" he yelled to Salt.

Salt dashed forward, eyes widening at the sight of her best friend being dragged back toward the gravitational vortex behind her. Angel screamed in terror, clawing helplessly at the ground, trying to stop herself from being swallowed up by the black hole as her feet began to sink into nothingness. Salt's blade dissipated into black mist and she summoned shadow ropes which shot out and wrapped around Angel's slender wrists. With all her might, Salt heaved on the threads, engaging in a terrible tug of war with the vortex for possession of her friend.

"Salt!" Angel sobbed hysterically as the icy coils of shadow bit into her flesh. "Help me!"

Salt grit her teeth in determination, her heart thundering so hard it quaked her entire body, shaking her to her very core. "I won't… let you... have her!" she ground out fiercely, beads of perspiration forming on her brow as she summoned shadows to her feet and rooted herself to the ground.

Levi leapt fluidly into the air and aimed a well-placed, crushing kick to the side of another approaching hound's head. It snarled, knocked off balance, and he used the moment of weakness to drop low and drive his knife savagely up into its throat, before yanking it out and hurtling the dagger at the nearest mutant dog that had turned away from Angel and prepared to pounce on Salt. It embedded ruthlessly into the side of its head and Levi cursed the fact that he'd only had enough time to bring one weapon with him. He could have dealt so much more damage with twin blades.

"Tch," he uttered. It seemed like he would have to get his hands dirtier than he'd anticipated. He sprinted forward until he reached the writhing hound, grabbed at the handle of his blade and slashed across its mouth. Its jaw fell open, weeping blood, spattering onto Levi's grey shirt. He regarded the felled monster with distaste, kicking at its twitching body with his black combat boot.

"Levi!" Salt cried, struggling to haul Angel, who was now almost waist deep inside the vortex out even as she continued to summon more shadow-ropes to grip onto her friend's arms. "Help me!"

He lunged forward and grabbed onto the ends of the rope - only for his hands to pass right through them, grasping at nothing but freezing mist. It bit at his skin, scalding him with ice. Gritting his teeth in determination, he instead wrapped his arms around Salt and pulled her back. Together, they managed to drag Angel forward and she was finally able to scramble onto her knees and escape the pull of the hole which dissolved away behind her.

Salt and Levi then reached down and yanked the tearful girl up, positioning her protectively between them as they stood back to back to face the new arrival of two-headed hounds that slunk out of plumes of smoke, prowling menacingly toward them from both directions.

"What's happening?!" Angel screamed. Demonic dogs? Vortexes in the ground? Salt wielding weapons that seemed to be forged out of dark mist? She was unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

"Explanations later," Levi quipped. "Just stay close!"

"Look out!" she cried fearfully, as the creatures barked and charged at them, their eyes glowing with fury.

Salt lifted her hands, sending a spiral of cycloning shadows up from the ground which tossed the dogs up into the air. They yelped and howled as they landed, hard. Levi lifted his leg and slammed his knee violently into the side of a hound and slit its throats, twisting around to meet another, stabbing his knife into its chest before kicking it aggressively away. He ducked and dodged and took down one after another, hacking, slashing and stabbing at their vital points, but still the damned things kept coming.

What the hell were these things, he thought to himself, and what did they want with Angel? His instinct to protect both his girlfriend and the girl who was the closest thing to a younger sister he had known caused him to lash out with renewed brutality as he rammed an elbow into another hound's side before stabbing his knife straight through its heads, immediately incapacitating them. No sooner had they fallen to the ground, the wounded dogs melted away into a liquid black pool, no trace of the supernatural creatures left.

Angel felt a rushing coldness at her feet and cried out, realising that another vortex was about to appear right under her. Levi's head jerked toward her, but another cluster of hounds pounced at him, forcing him to direct his attention back to warding them off.

"Shit!" he cursed.

Salt grabbed hold of Angel's arm and shoved her out the way, calling into being five shadow rods that simultaneously impaled the dogs surrounding them into the ground. They howled in agony, struggling to break free, but the undeniable force of Thanatos's divine powers, adeptly commanded by Salt, held firm.

Angel landed roughly against the wall, the air knocked out of her lungs, and turned her head just in time to see another snarling hound rearing back to charge at her. Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open in a soundless scream of horror - when a blur of movement intercepted its attack. Faster than was humanly possible, Salt had thrown herself protectively in front of Angel, turning her back to the hound just as the menacing creature lunged at her. Its twin-heads bit down, one set of jowls puncturing the back of Salt's left arm, the other clamping onto her left side. A piercing cry of pain escaped her lips, the sound puncturing through Angel's own heart as she lifted her eyes to meet Salt's briefly. She saw the pain etched into her face, and then the hounds were mercilessly tearing at Salt's body, caught in the clutches of their razor sharp teeth, shaking her as if she were nothing more than a ragdoll. They tossed her violently against the wall and she hit it with a sickening smack, falling onto the ground limply, unmoving.

"Salt!" Angel screamed in terror. "SALT!" She rushed forward on instinct, without a thought for the danger she was in, to shield her unconscious friend from the lunging attack of another hound, desperately grabbing onto the nearby lid of a trash-can to use as a makeshift shield. But as she lifted it, Levi intercepted. Outraged, he decapitated two of the demonic dogs cleanly and slammed his knife into the mouth of another hound with such savagery that it came out the other side of its head.

A loud caw filled the air as Levi continued to fight off the remaining canines. Angel gripped onto Salt's shoulders, sobbing her friend's name - when a sudden, freezing sensation crawled up her back. She stiffened in dread and turned her head to find that another vortex was appearing directly behind her.

With a burst of adrenaline she yanked the unconscious Salt up into her arms and dove desperately aside, landing roughly on the ground, grazing her elbow against the hard concrete. But the pits of black followed her, and she was forced to move away from Salt to avoid them.

"Levi!" she shrieked, glancing wildly in his direction to see that he was still battling with an onslaught of monstrous hounds. They fell all around him, and he yelled at her to run.

Angel bolted around, but failed to see a vortex appear to her left. Immediately she was dragged toward it, and screamed, trying to grab onto something - anything - to save herself, but there was nothing except thin air all around her.

"No!" she screamed. "Levi! LEVI!"

Levi kicked a dog roughly aside, his eyes flicking briefly to his motionless girlfriend and then he lunged forward, his heart wedging itself into his throat as he gauged, almost immediately, that he could not afford to lose even a second to have any hopes of getting to her.

Shit, shit, shit-! Her wide, haunted hazel eyes were all he could see as he lifted his hand, reaching out to her as he scrambled to her side - but another hound that seemed to materialise out of thin air from straight above him intercepted his path, costing Levi the vital few seconds he needed to save Angel in time.

"Angel!" he shouted, impaling the obstruction savagely in its brain, but she was already falling back, being swallowed by the darkness.

Another echoing caw resonated in the air and there was a flash of movement as something dove swiftly down in front of her, streaking across her vision. Angel thought she briefly glimpsed a black bird - and then the strangest sensation of swift, weightless motion enveloped her. A heartbeat later, she fell to her knees, blinking in shock as she found herself beside Salt once more. Her heart hammered within her as she watched raven feathers rain down around her in bewildered confusion.

What in the world had just happened? Had she just somehow... switched places? How was that even possible?

She turned her head, just in time to find that the vortex she'd miraculously evaded had disappeared. She gaped at it for a moment incredulously. Then, trembling violently, she reached down to Salt's prone form, gathering her up into her arms, struggling not to hyperventilate as she held her friend tightly against her, ready to shield her with her very life. All thoughts of their past quarrels were forgotten, rendered completely irrelevant when faced with the real, dangerous possibility of death.

Another caw filled the air. All of a sudden, the hounds stiffened and withdrew, retreating away with rumbling growls. Angel blinked through her tears, watching in repulsed disbelief as they vanished before their very eyes, melting away into shadows. Then she turned her eyes to Salt and pressed her palms against her friend's grievously wounded side. Warm blood pooled through her top, seeping out to cover Angel's hands. So much of it, Angel noted numbly, shaking uncontrollably, her entire body overcome with jittery static. Salt had gotten hurt because of her. Once again, Salt had protected her.

Please stop, she pleaded at the wound, choking in terror even as weeping crimson stained her fingers. Please, please, please, stop it, stop it, stop-

"Salt," she wept. "L-Levi!" she cried out in panic, and a second later he dropped to his knees beside her.

"Shit," he cursed, his cool eyes burning with anger as he studied the extent of Salt's injuries. She'd been reckless, just as she always was whenever Angel's welfare was at risk. He had no time to think about or even process what he had just seen - the evidence of everything that Salt was, her ability to wield unnatural weapons forged from shadows, that monsters were indeed hunting Angel - his priority was to ensure that she was safe.

"L-Levi," Angel blubbered hysterically. "She's bleeding! We need to call the ambulance! We need to-"

"Shut up," he interrupted. "We're not calling the ambulance."

"W-what?" A dazed looking Angel blinked at him incredulously. "She needs to go to the hospital!"

"We can't do that, Angel." He turned narrowed, stormy eyes to her. "Did you not see what shitty things just attacked us? How are you planning to explain any of that?" Even beyond that, Levi was certain, any doctor examining Salt would quickly come to the conclusion she wasn't human. They couldn't afford that. It was likely the last thing she wanted and would lead to unnecessary complications for all of them.

Angel cried harder, not understanding why he was refusing, not understanding anything that she had seen, her hands still pressed desperately against the wounds on Salt's left side, trying to stem the blood as Levi tended to her arm. She could still feel her friend's warm life-force pouring out and continued to will it, with all her being, to stop. It had to stop. She begged and pleaded with it, because if it didn't, if it didn't, then Salt would...

No, she thought, as she squeezed her eyes shut. Not Salt. She couldn't lose Salt. Not her best friend. Not when they hadn't spoken in months, not like this - not ever.

She had just killed a man with her own hands. Had death found her again so soon, had it now come for the girl Angel viewed as her sister? Had death come to take Salt away forever? Was she once again responsible for the loss of another life?

She couldn't bear it. She couldn't stand it. She would sooner face death herself, give herself willingly to it than have her heart ripped out like that. Angel felt physically sick, her entire body prickling cold, her heart thundering within her chest, as if she were on the verge of throwing up.

"Please, Salt," she wept, smothered with a crippling pain deep within her chest, the terror of losing her best friend seizing her in a choking hold of ice. She could barely breathe from panic. "Please, I'm so sorry…"

Levi swallowed, tearing aside the fabric of the sleeve of Salt's top to find that her wounds were already closing. Relief flooded through him. Just as he had anticipated and hoped, she was recovering - albeit at a faster speed than he had expected. He could see that she was breathing steadily and would likely come around without medical interference. Still the sight of the blood trickling from her forehead made a cold, displacing stillness wash over him. He swallowed, shaking the sensation off. She was a fighter. She was fine. There was no way a pack of stupid rabid dogs could break her.

"Levi," Angel's voice sounded very young. Pained. Frightened. His eyes shifted from his girlfriend's face to rest onto her best friend's, the very individual he knew Salt wouldn't hesitate to lay down her life for. How many times had Salt gotten hurt for Angel, with Angel entirely oblivious to the sacrifices she had made?

At least this time, Levi thought with a grim sense of satisfaction, the stupid girl had witnessed it with her own eyes. He hoped that it had gotten through her thick skull, and that she would start to show some awareness and much overdue gratitude after months of acting like she'd washed her own brain down the drain.

"We're going back to the tea shop," he said with finality.

"What?" Angel wiped at her eyes unthinkingly, smearing blood against her cheek. "No! Levi, she's hurt! Those things bit her! Please, let's just-"

"Oi." He snapped. "You really gonna suddenly start telling me how to look after her right now?"

He saw the open hurt flash across Angel's distraught face, the way she sank her teeth into her lower lip tearfully and bit back her response, her eyes lowering in something akin to shame. Despite himself, he felt a twinge of pity for her. This hadn't come as much of a surprise to him, following his reconciliation with Salt, her confessions and everything he had already deduced about her. But for Angel, he knew the event was a complete shock. She was the one in the thicket of all the danger surrounding her - and yet she was oblivious to the fact that she had kept company with a grim reaper death god himself. She was the one who deserved to know the truth the most - and yet she knew the least about anything out of everyone.

He could read the bewilderment and fear in her face, evident from the disorientated, anxious look in her eyes. She was barely holding it together. Levi couldn't blame her. Black holes appearing out of thin air in the ground to suck her away to an unknown place? Rabid, two-headed dogs? Seeing Salt summoning shadows? A crow teleporting her out of danger before Levi's watching, incredulous eyes? Was it any wonder she was in such a dreadful, disturbed state?

He told himself he would address it later. For now, they needed to get out of the alleyway, he knew. There was no telling whether those creatures - or others - would be back to finish the job and he didn't want anyone else running over to find out what the cause of all the noise had been.

Scooping Salt up into his arms, he nodded to Angel.

"Let's go."


In the shadows, she cursed, her slender, pale fingers closed into tight, frustrated fists. She had been so close! So close to acquiring the Child of Prophecy, and yet once again, the meddling raven-haired nymph had foiled her. And this time, she had brought along another human. Nyx's displeasure burned with the ferocity of the flames of Tartarus themselves, fuelling a wild desperation within her - and yet her hands were tied. She had been forced to draw her minions back the moment she had heard and seen the crow gliding in the night sky above the scene of conflict, snatching the girl out of the vortex that had nearly succeeded in swallowing her whole.

It had been no ordinary surface bird, no. Nyx had recognised it immediately from its shadow-bound essence; it had been her own eldest son's summon - and sure enough, her seeking eyes had found him, alighting gracefully on a nearby rooftop with his cousin by his side, no doubt alerted to the disturbance by the crow itself. The two had watched the melee far below for a brief moment before Itachi had lifted a hand. It had been his direct intervention that had dragged the girl out of the black hole, his command sent to the crow to warp the Child of Prophecy away from what he had perceived to be great danger.

He remained stationed in position, his faithful summon perched upon his shoulder, scanning his surroundings in quiet sentry, clearly seeking out the origin of the threat in the darkness. Nyx saw Shisui communicate something to him and then her heart leapt before constricting painfully in her chest when searing, displeased crimson eyes glowing like embers in the night flicked right over her. Everything she did, she did for him, to secure his happiness, and that of their family's, and yet, he could not know it.

Evidently he had assigned his summon to watch the mortal girl, and the nymph wielded powers that resembled her son's own. Was it a coincidence? Nyx thought not. Rather, it seemed more likely that the nymph was perhaps in service to Itachi. Was that why he had told Nyx not to interfere with returning her to the Underworld? Had her son commanded the runaway Lampad to protect the Child of Prophecy on the surface in his stead?

And if that was so - if Itachi cared enough to shield this mortal maiden - why then did he retain his distance and watch from the shadows? Why would he not step forth and claim the girl whom Nyx knew to be intended for him?

She watched, bitter and frustrated, as the unfamiliar mortal man lifted the unconscious nymph from the ground and walked away, the tearful Child of Prophecy staying close to his side. Shisui and Itachi shadowed the three from the rooftops, monitoring them closely as they left the scene. Nyx swallowed, accepting that she had been foiled. Her heart raced at how close she had come to being discovered, relieved that the mastery of her element meant that she could conceal herself from even his perceptive gaze. The creatures she had summoned had been called forth with forbidden magic, and not her own element of darkness. A necessary precaution she had taken to cover her own tracks. She knew that her son and nephew would not guess as to their nature so easily.

How could she possibly seize the Child of Prophecy now? Nyx's disappointment burned in her chest. All she wished for was to transport her to the Underworld, to keep her safely hidden away until she had made all the necessary arrangements to keep her out of Cronus's clutches, for she could not possibly trust what he intended for her.

Silently she melted away, returning to the Underworld, knowing that so long as the crow followed the mortal girl then her son was never far.


"What now, cousin?" Shisui's voice carried behind him. Itachi's heavy-lashed, narrowed eyes tracked the movements of the mortal man carrying the unconscious nymph in his arms, a visibly distressed, tearful Angelissa hovering close to his side. A crow flew on ahead, following after them at his command - but Itachi hung back, seeing no further need to intervene. He could switch places with his summon in an instant if required, but it was evident to him that the threat to Angelissa's safety had already passed. For the moment, at least.

Not, however, before he had witnessed it with his own eyes. Dark hounds reminiscent of those found in the Underworld had set upon Angelissa, and yet they had not been made of shadow-elements. Black vortexes of energy, forged of forbidden matter, had swirled around her with the clear intent of dragging her into alternate planes of existence. Just where had they intended to take the girl? What could anyone want from an innocent, unassuming mortal, to haunt her steps in such a constant, persistent manner?

"We have seen it now with our own eyes," Shisui stated quietly. "And so has she. There can be no more diverting or avoiding the matter, not anymore. You must tell her the truth, Itachi." His voice was grave, its tone insistent. "Heed my counsel. Her mind will break if you do not."

"..." Itachi was silent. His gaze lingered on Angelissa's retreating form, his aloof expression betraying nothing of the troubled thoughts afflicting his mind. Still the answers to the mystery surrounding the mortal girl and the reasons why she, in particular, was being targeted eluded them. Now that he had seen an attack with his own eyes, seen the malicious intent toward her, and how desperate someone or something was to acquire Angelissa, he realised the severity of the miscalculation he had made. What good had the distance he had placed between them done at all, when she remained in such terrible peril? His lips tightened, forming a thin, displeased line. Was this what the Fate Atropos had meant, by keeping her close? Would she have been spared half of the horrors that had befallen her, had he done precisely that, instead of pushing her away in a bid to spare them both from any further, deeper entanglement?

He had tried. He had tried to take what he had sincerely believed to be the right course of action. Not just for his sake, but for her wellbeing, purposefully manipulated the situation to keep her protected. To keep her ignorant, as mortals ought to be, of his existence before death, of his forbidden realm and everything it encompassed. Of all the things her eyes ought not to have seen until her natural demise. And yet, he was no fool. Witnessing the danger she had been in had called into being the instinct to shield her from harm, stronger than it had ever been.

He acknowledged, grimly, that their parting had done little to abscond their thoughts of one another, to weaken and undo the attachment formed by the riverside. He saw, all too clearly in that very moment, what he knew he could deny no longer; that no matter where he turned, or which paths he chose to tread, every single road led right back to her.

As if they were destined to cross one another, no matter his greatest efforts to turn her back to an oblivious mortal life.

Itachi's hands closed into fists as he registered that he was running out of options, patience - and, he realised with an abrupt start - time itself to postpone what now seemed to be inevitable.


They finally arrived at the tea-shop without any further incident. Angel watched in silence as Levi gently lay Salt down onto their bed and went to collect some items from the bathroom. Returning, he carefully peeled her top off and dipped a sponge into a bowl of warm water to wipe away the blood staining her flesh. Angel peered anxiously over him, biting down on a thumb nail nervously, trying to catch sight of the severity of the wounds - only to suck in a sharp breath when she saw that they had unexpectedly and completely healed, leaving nothing behind but dull scars.

She blinked in open-mouthed astonishment, her thoughts screeching to an abrupt halt.

"What the hell?" she whispered to herself in disbelief. Then, aloud to Levi, she gaped, "Where did her wounds go? She was hurt, I saw it! I felt it!"

"Not now," Levi dismissed flatly.

"Then when?" Angel's eyes widened, wondering why he was so calm, why he wasn't disturbed by anything he had seen, how he wasn't disturbed by Salt's miraculous and unnatural rate of healing. "Levi. I was just attacked by… by two-headed dogs! And- and black-holes just appeared in the ground! I somehow switched places in the middle of being dragged through one and Salt was bleeding to death and- didn't you see any of that?!"

"You think I'm blind?" he snipped, irritated at the dirt that marred his girlfriend's skin.

"But- but!" she rambled on frantically. "You're not freaking out. How are you okay? Where'd you even learn to fight like that? And Salt- what were those shadowy things she used to grab me? How did she just make them appear like that?" Angel raised her hands to her hair, pulling at the locks in frustration. "How are her wounds just gone? What's going on?!" Her breaths escaped her lips in panicked bursts. She was overwhelmed. She had accidentally killed a man days earlier - and now she had just seen something unbelievable, something completely supernatural, transpire before her very eyes. It was too much.

A part of her thought that she shouldn't be so surprised; after all, hadn't Salt called Itachi her 'Master'? And hadn't Angel seen with her own eyes, things that couldn't be rationally explained about him? Hadn't Shisui told her that they weren't human? Didn't shadow-like marks cover her own back? And Salt had just wielded shadow-like weapons before her very eyes. Salt, who claimed that Itachi was her Master. Itachi, who had left the shadow wisps on her back. Angel's mind was running on overdrive, trying to connect everything together when nothing was making any sense. She covered her mouth with her hand, watching as Levi squeezed the sponge over the bowl, and continued wiping the blood off Salt's body gently.

"Oh my God," Angel got out in a choked voice, pacing the room senselessly. "This is crazy. This can't be real. This isn't happening."

Levi blinked, hearing the mounting hysteria in her voice and turned his head, regarding her steadily for a moment. She had no idea about anything that was going on and was a mess of confusion. It was understandable - but he didn't want to deal with it at that moment. It wasn't his place to give Angel explanations pertaining to Salt or the shitty death god she claimed was her superior. That was something Angel and Salt would have to talk over. Following the events they'd all just witnessed, Levi couldn't imagine how the truth could be kept from the girl any longer. He could see, quite clearly, that Angel was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Surely Salt would have to come clean, grim reaper's orders be damned?

"Tch. Still can't figure it out, huh?" Levi muttered beneath his breath. He finished cleaning up the last of the blood from Salt's forehead, and tossed the sponge back in the bowl, dried her with a towel and then wiped his own hands with cloth as he rose to his feet to retrieve an oversized T-shirt to cover her with.

Angel's frightened eyes followed him. "Figure out what?!" she cried, struggling not to freak out. "Levi, how are you so calm about this? What aren't you telling me?"

"You haven't been listening in months," he retorted bluntly. "Finally washed the stupid out your ears?"

"I-" Angel bristled. She knew she deserved the harsh words, but that made them sting no less. "I never wanted any of this! I never wanted her to get hurt!"

"No?" Levi levelled.

"No!" She turned mournful eyes to him. Her life had been nothing but a catastrophic mess ever since she'd taken in Vetty and subsequently met Itachi and Shisui. Since that point, she had encountered one disaster after another, with no breaks in between and everything had quickly spiralled completely out of her control. Her life, always so quiet and unassuming, had turned into a living disaster. She had lost her best friend. Her job. Her own sense of identity and worth. She had almost lost her own life numerous times. Killed a man. Almost been sucked into a supernatural vortex. Now Salt had nearly died trying to save her.

Unexplainable things were consistently haunting her, tormenting her sanity, pushing her to a breaking point. Everything was going horrifically wrong and she didn't know how to stop any of it, how to slam the brakes to get off the train-wreck intact. She had no answers and nobody to turn to for them who was willing to answer her.

"How did you both even appear out of nowhere?" she asked Levi. "I don't understand! I don't know why all these horrible things keep happening to me. Please! Just tell me what's going on. Please, I can't take it anymore!" Her voice broke.

Levi returned to Salt's side, and began to pull the T-shirt carefully over her head. Once he was done dressing her, he turned to Angel, and placed a hand on her shoulder. He could feel the fine tremors wracking her body as she lifted inconsolable hazel eyes up to him.

"Oi." His gaze narrowed at her. "You listening?"

She released a trembling breath. "Yes," she all but squeaked out.

"Good. I need you to stop freaking out."

Her breaths escaped her lips in rapid bursts and her glazed eyes met his. Levi scowled and squeezed her shoulder, willing her to focus.

"Oi. Now. Okay? Breathe."

She blinked. Sucked in an unsteady, deep breath. "...Okay," she agreed numbly.

"Angel." His eyes narrowed. "I mean it. Get a grip."

"Okay," she echoed blankly, feeling faint, nauseous. "I- I think I'm going to throw up."

"No. You're not. Shut up, sit down, and wait for her to wake up," he instructed harshly.

Levi's stern, grounding words registered, slicing through the bubble of hysteria that had closed around her, and Angel gulped down her rising panic, fiercely, desperately telling herself that losing it wouldn't help anyone. It was taking every last fibre of will-power she possessed to keep herself grounded, to stop herself from losing her mind entirely. A scream was brewing in the base of her throat, but she somehow feared that if she let it loose, she would be unable to stop screaming.

Blinking back her tears, she gazed down at her unconscious friend, slowly lowering herself to sit on the side of the bed, hugging herself in a futile attempt to calm her quivering body. Guilt gnawed away at her, eating her alive inside, and she hesitated, a strong wave of regret and sadness overcoming her. Salt was in such a state because of her. Even after everything she'd done to push the raven-haired girl away, still she had been there for Angel when she'd needed her the most. She didn't deserve her. She didn't deserve anything good in the world. Maybe that was why horrible things just kept happening to her. Maybe all the near-misses and close calls were a chilling, ominous sign that death was looming around her, shadowing her footsteps, closing in on her, that she would soon be next on its list to be taken.

"I'll be downstairs," Levi gathered up the bowl and sponge on his way to the doorway, "Let me know when she wakes up."

Angel nodded numbly, at a loss for words. She turned her gaze back to the slumbering form of her best friend as she heard Levi's footsteps descending the stairs.

Salt's peaceful expression and the steady rise and fall of her chest - a sign she was breathing, alive - were all the comfort she had. It felt like ages since she had seen Salt last, and Angel drew her knees up to her chest as she watched her friend sleep. The close encounter that had nearly cost Salt her life still sent trepidation through her. She couldn't make sense of any of it, but she felt innately, that this was likely not the first time that Salt had risked her life for her. Levi's subdued, matter-of-fact reaction made that painfully apparent. Salt protecting Angel and getting hurt, it almost seemed like it was routine to him.

Angel swallowed thickly as she buried her face in her hands. Was it? How many times had Salt gotten hurt for her? She had no way of knowing. Had she been attacked by unnatural things before? Is that what had truly happened? On the beach? At the bridge? Is that why Salt had been shadowing her? Is that how she had ended up intercepting the men who had accosted her? Only Salt had the answers to those questions.

Angel had lost a lot of things over the past few months. Friends, her job, innocence, and in many ways, her sanity, but losing Salt… she lifted her head to look at the raven-haired woman again, to be sure she was really there. She could not bear to lose Salt. Not talking to her was one thing, but if Salt were to die… Angel bit back tears, not wanting to even consider the horrendous thought.

But she could think of nothing else as the minute hand crept around the clock, marking an hour and still, Salt had not awoken. Angel wept quietly into her folded arms, burying her face in the crook of her elbow, praying to whoever would listen that Salt would wake up, that she would be alright, that she would never be hurt for Angel's sake again.

"Angel…?" a groggy voice broke through her thoughts and Angel's head shot up at the sound of it, instantly lowering her knees as she gripped at the duvet cover.

Salt had finally opened her eyes, and was blinking blearily at her. At a loss for words, Angel stared numbly at the raven-haired girl, her tea-brown eyes so full of open concern and affection.

"You're hurt." Salt's voice wavered in concern, almost in complaint.

Angel blinked, speechless. Following Salt's gaze, she saw that the blood had dried on her elbow, where she had grazed it against the concrete. The image of Salt being shaken like a ragdoll by those fearsome two-headed dogs was still very vivid in Angel's mind and the mere comparison, that Salt would forget about her own injuries and instead focus on this - this nothing of a wound, sent fresh tears pooling in her eyes.

"Salt, you…" she lifted a hand to her mouth and choked back a sob, "You're the one who…"

Salt stared tiredly back at her, not understanding.

"You were the one who was so badly hurt!" Angel shook her head, "What those things did to you, I-"

"Please, don't worry about it, Angel. I'll be fine." Salt gingerly lifted herself into a seated position, only now remembering her own injuries. She reached for the hem of her shirt, dimly noting the change of clothing, to see the extent of the wound herself, only to stare blankly at the faintly scarred skin that met her eyes.

How had that happened?

Although she healed far more quickly than mortals, such a severe injury should have taken days to heal. Unless there had been intervention… but Thanatos had not been present. She would have noticed, if he had, and he would surely have stepped in to save Angel, as close as their call had been.

Who, then, had healed her? Salt struggled to recall what had happened. The last thing she remembered before succumbing to unconsciousness was Angel holding her, weeping bitterly. What had happened after that?

"Your wounds…" Angel said shakily, gesturing at them vaguely. "They healed so fast. I- I don't know how."

Neither did Salt. Trying to piece it together, she glanced at Angel, taken aback to find a steady stream of tears flowing from her eyes as she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. Her shoulders trembled with the effort of holding back the sobs welling in her chest.

"Angel!" All weariness flew from Salt's body as she leaned towards her friend. "Oh, no, Angel, what's wrong?" Unthinkingly, she threw her arms around the brunette, holding her close as she wept. "What happened? What did I miss? Oh, Angel, I promise I'll make it okay."

This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, Angel registered distantly. She was supposed to be the one profusely apologizing, she was supposed to be trying to earn back Salt's affection, she was supposed to be bridging the gap. But already she was selfishly accepting the comfort Salt offered to selflessly. As she clung to the raven-haired woman, sobbing bitterly, she realized that for Salt, at least, there had never been a gap. Despite all of Angel's efforts, Salt had never stopped considering Angel her friend. That knowledge only hurt all the more in the face of everything Angel had done.

Her own words kept echoing hauntingly in her head. Every time she had lashed out at Salt. Every time she had tried to push her away. As Salt rubbed Angel's back, murmuring words of comfort as she held her close, Angel desperately wished she could take them all back. She realized there had not ever been a single person in Salt's absence who came close to taking her place. Who, besides Salt, was so carefully observant of Angel's wellbeing? Who took Angel's pain for their own? Who could Angel rely on to stand by her side through thick and thin, without regard for the consequences? That had only ever been Salt.

And how had Angel repaid her for her friendship? By shutting her out, by breaking her heart. Guilt crashed over Angel in waves as she clung to her best friend. "I'm sorry, Salt," she sobbed, "I'm so, so sorry. I never…" She choked out her words, "I did everything wrong. I'm just a screw up. I'm so sorry for everything."

Wrapping her arms around the taller woman's waist, Angel buried her face in Salt's shoulder and bared her heart. "Everything I said, everything I did. I don't deserve you, I don't- when you threw yourself right in harm's way to protect me like that, I really thought you'd- I was so scared that you-" she broke off, voice clogged with emotion, unable to continue.

"Angel," Salt interrupted, her voice unsteady, dismayed to feel the violent trembles wracking her friend's body. "Stop."

Angel drew back to find that Salt's eyes had filled with tears as well. With a quivering lip and red-rimmed, watery eyes, Salt shook her head. "It's not your fault. There was so much going on, how were you supposed to -"

Angel wiped at her eyes. "No!" she exclaimed. "Don't. There you go again, making excuses for me! You've spoiled me and I didn't even realize it. I was being a sightless brat. You've spoiled me with your love, with your friendship."

"I'm sorry," Salt offered, tears of emotion spilling forth.

"No," Angel groaned, "I'm the one who took it for granted and was too blind to see it! I'm the one who should be sorry. Why do you always forgive me? Why do you always make excuses for me? Why do you always apologize when you're not even wrong?" Angel's complaint left her in a miserable wail and Salt smiled through her tears as she patted her friend's back.

"You're my friend, Angel. I love you. You're not stupid, like me. You know what you're doing."

"I am stupid!" Angel protested, "I need you to tell me, Salt. Please, don't let me think I'm right when I'm not. I've been so stupid, so reckless that I've hurt and pushed away the very person who cares so much about me. The best friendship that ever happened to me. I almost lost you! You almost died - you-! You almost died and if you had, I could have never forgiven myself and I-" Angel hiccupped, her words sporadic and jumbled as she struggled to convey the regret in her heart.

"Shh," She drew Angel in, letting her cry on her shoulder as she smoothed down her hair, as if she were a child. "I'm not going to die on you." Salt comforted, "I promise. You don't have to worry about me. I'm here. I'm with you. I always will be."

Although guilt and regret clawed at her heart, whispering into her mind that she didn't deserve any comfort, that she had no right to seek solace, she let herself believe Salt's words, let herself be soothed by her friend's embrace and sobbed heart-felt, sincere apologies into her shoulder, crying it all out until her sobs finally subsided.

Levi, standing in the hallway just beyond, made a silent retreat, bringing the tray of tea he carried back downstairs. It was for the best, perhaps, if he left the two girls to it. The tea could wait.

After the tears abated, the two young women sat side by side on the bed in awkward, swollen-eyed silence.

Angel stared at her feet, trying to make sense of everything. The realization that their friendship had been far more one-sided than Angel had ever thought it to be, hurt her deeply. She always tried to be there for her friends. She was the one planning the get-togethers, the surprise birthday parties, picking them up at odd hours but with Salt, she now realized, she had always been on the receiving end.

Whether it was supporting her in her writing, helping her pick up the apartment before a spontaneous visit from her family, helping her plan a birthday party for a friend Salt didn't particularly care for, a party Salt would not even be attending, or more recently, this, the attempts on Angel's life and safety that she had been entirely ignorant of - she had selflessly given and given and Angel had selfishly taken and taken.

Angel swallowed thickly, determined that from now on, Salt would be on the receiving end of her care and consideration. Unlike her other friends, Salt had always been entirely too unconditionally accommodating. Always seeing the sacrifice itself as a sort of reward and Angel had stood back, thinking it was what Salt wanted. She cringed in self-loathing. How could she have been so ignorant? She should have known better. Stopped to really listen to and check in with Salt, instead of assuming everything was perfect in her life, that their friendship had been equal.

"You must have a lot of questions," Salt began hesitantly.

Angel lifted hazel eyes to Salt's but said nothing. With a sigh, she dropped her gaze and nodded. Not knowing what was going on or why terrified her so deeply, it shook her to the core. Angel did not even know where to begin to sort out the mess that was her life. All the crazy, supernatural events? The yawning black chasms that had tried to swallow her whole, the two-headed dogs? The murder of an innocent man? The terrible things she had said and done to her own best friend?

"I… don't even know what to ask you, where to begin." Angel said helplessly. "Nothing makes any sense and I don't know why all these things are happening to me."

Salt regarded her with concerned, sympathetic eyes. She could see that Angel was emotionally overwhelmed, not in a good mindset - and she couldn't blame her.

"Would you… even be able to tell me anything?" Angel turned hopeful eyes to her friend and Salt bit her lip, considering her words carefully. Her friend had now seen the supernatural with her own eyes. Surely Thanatos couldn't expect to conceal things from her any further? Hadn't enough harm come from the keeping of secrets? Their very friendship had almost been left permanently in tatters.

"Honestly, Angel…" she began. "I've been wanting to tell you for a long time already. I believe you should know what's going on. Truly, I do. I believed that from the very start. You already know that Than- Thane isn't human. You know that those marks on your back are something he did to heal you. You know a lot already. Although I want to fill in all the blanks, I was forbidden from doing so. Otherwise, I … that is to say…" Salt trailed off, feeling like she was offering feeble excuses in the face of Angel's very real anguish.

Angel stared at her, stunned. Salt had been forbidden from telling her the truth? Understanding slowly dawned upon her, suddenly allowing her to see what she had so blindly overlooked before. "Wait…" she breathed. "Itachi is your master, you said…"

"Yes," Salt agreed.

"Then… he's the one who doesn't allow you to tell me the truth...?"

Salt nodded, casting her a regretful look.

"If you tell me…" Angel frowned, able to think more clearly now that all her anger had faded. "If you ignore his order, what would happen?"

Salt's mouth opened, but she hesitated despite herself.

"Salt…" Angel insisted, feeling sick to her stomach with dread. "What would happen? Would he…" she forced herself to voice the unthinkable, Itachi's admission that he ended lives at the forefront of her thoughts. "Would he hurt you…? Would he… kill you?"

Salt stared at Angel wide-eyed, surprised at how quickly she had pieced it together, before biting her lip and nodding. "Yeah, that's what he said."

Angel released a horrified gasp and when Salt averted her gaze, her own eyelids lowered as well, in understanding and hurt. How had this explanation never even occurred to her before? That the truth of it was, Salt had been helpless to act? Itachi, then, was the one to blame for the lack of answers. She remembered how Salt had wavered in indecision everytime Angel had demanded answers, and realized now that each time, Salt had been weighing her own life against Angel's happiness.

Angel rubbed her face wearily. It had all gone so wrong, and resentment toward the enigmatic, masked man she had met at the river burned within her throat, leaving behind a bitter taste in her mouth. To think that he would threaten to hurt her own beloved best friend! That his insistence for Salt to keep silent had nearly resulted in Angel's friendship with her to be permanently undone! Fresh tears of betrayal stung at her eyes. If she had felt Itachi had wronged her before, the feeling had just been multiplied ten-fold following Salt's honest confession.

"Thank you for keeping quiet, then. You did the right thing, Salt." She laced her hands together, willing their shaking to stop.

Salt frowned at the hardwood floor. "I don't know about that. You deserve to know but, unfortunately, I just… I'm not the one who can give you the answers. You should ask him, Angel. He cares. He really does. I don't think he could refuse now."

Angel was silent for a long moment, contemplating. "How can someone who threatened to kill my best friend care?" She demanded, notes of anger in her voice.

"Well, not about me, but he cares about you." Salt chuckled awkwardly.

Itachi cared about her? After everything he had said and done, the way he had cut her off so unfeelingly? Angel found that difficult to accept, and yet Salt was his servant, wasn't she? Her opinion had to hold weight.

The words were as bittersweet as they were tormenting and she found herself wondering why Itachi didn't for Salt. Angel could not understand it. What had Salt done so wrong that he was so callous towards her, despite the fact that they remained in contact and she clearly followed his instructions loyally? Why would Itachi so cruelly threaten to end her life? She could not imagine it. Did disregarding orders really warrant such a harsh punishment? Angel frowned as she realized that ever since Itachi had stepped into the picture, Salt had changed, was constantly on edge and tripping over her own words and explanations. She hadn't been like this before…

Suddenly, realization dawned and guilt swept through her with the force of a tidal wave. That night Itachi had walked her back to her apartment from the river. The night he had first set eyes on Salt.

"You ran away from him," Angel breathed, "That's how you ended up here."

Salt, not following the change in topic, agreed hesitantly. "Yeah, I did."

"Because you wanted to be free."

Salt nodded grimly.

"And now you're back to serving him." Angel's hushed whisper resounded in the room and Salt did not answer, unsure where this was headed. "Because I led him straight to you. It was me."

Salt fell silent and lifted a hand to offer reassurances but left it hanging awkwardly in midair. There was nothing she could say to that.

"That's why you were so scared when you saw him." Angel squeezed her eyes shut against the memory, "And I, like an idiot, not knowing anything, I brought him to you and caught you in that trap again. Even though you kept telling me to stay away from him."

She covered her face with her hands, ashamed and regretful beyond measure. How could she have been so careless? So inconsiderate? She couldn't blame Cain for everything. She had been ruining things long before he came around.

"Angel," the gentle hand on the brunette's shoulder brought her attention back to Salt. "It's not your fault."

"No, Salt. It is. You warned me, but I -" Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

"Angel, listen to me. I warned you but not because of myself. I warned you for your sake. He has been my master for a very long time. That wasn't ever going to change. He would have found me sooner or later. It's not your fault. Whatever else you're sorry for, please, this isn't on you. This is a lot older than you." Salt spoke in low, soothing tones that made Angel want to believe her.

And yet, for five years Salt had lived like any of them. Doing whatever she wanted. Itachi's entrance into their lives had changed everything. Angel could not shake the feeling that Salt's predicament was her own fault, however much Salt tried to convince her of the contrary.

"You need to talk to him. He has all the answers. He's never stopped watching over you." Salt held Angel's astonished gaze imploringly.

Angel could scarcely believe it. Itachi had been watching over her? Why? Her heart thumped almost painfully in her chest. Why then had he lied to her, only for her to now discover that he'd been monitoring her all along? She thought back to the time outside the nightclub. The shattered bottle of vodka. She had certainly thought she had seen him, multiple times. At the funeral with Cami. She had felt him nearby even more often than that. Something in the air, a wistful sensation in her heart, a flurry of crows taking flight. The ones lingering on her balcony. Little things that had always reminded her of him, no matter how hard she tried to banish all thoughts of him from her mind.

But nothing she had seen had ever been concrete. Nothing she could say was actual evidence of Salt's claim. And yet, Salt was in touch with him. Received orders from him. Who would know better than Salt?

"Oh…" she placed a despairing hand to her forehead. Her head pulsed from the chaotic rush and endless onslaught of conflicted, bewildered thoughts. From nothing being as it appeared to be.

"I know you're angry with him," Salt continued. "And I wouldn't dare suggest that he's made all the right choices thus far, but he cares. If you insist, he will answer you. He has to. Just don't back down, don't accept his excuses. I don't think he can say no to you."

Angel's stomach knotted in an apprehension that was almost akin to fear. Did she even want to see him? Knowing that he was as dangerous as Salt had always claimed? Knowing that he had threatened to kill someone as kind and genuinely good and loving as Salt was?

But there had to be more to the story, surely? What was it that they were keeping hidden from her that made someone as seemingly gentle and soft spoken as Itachi threaten death if it were to be revealed? What was so awful, so serious that he had compelled Salt to keep silent, disregarding all the consequences of such a command?

Angel would never know unless she demanded answers. But could she even find him again? Would he even listen to her? Would he finally lend ear? The thought of him dismissing her coldly terrified her. It was a humiliation she could not bear again. She was already so near the breaking point. She had already suffered so much more than she had ever thought she could handle. If Itachi sent her away once more, closing up coldly...

What would happen to her? How would she survive that?

Salt read the open uncertainty and trepidation on Angel's face, and laid a gentle, reassuring hand on hers.

"I…" Salt began. "I can come with you, if you want me to. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

There it was again, the glimmer of apprehension in Salt's eyes. Fearless Salt who would glare down anyone. The Salt who was scared of nothing and no one. Who broke alley thugs' hands like it was nothing. That same Salt was scared of Itachi, and Angel had no way of knowing why. Regardless, she was ready to stand by her side, as she always had, unwavering and loyal.

Angel was touched by the sentiment of her offer. But one thing she did know was that her best friend would not sacrifice herself for Angel's sake any more. Of that, Angel was certain. She simply would not stand for it.

"No, it's alright, thank you." Angel squeezed her hand gratefully. "I just… I don't know if I'm ready for this. To speak to him and..." her voice trailed off, heart pounding against her rib-cage in agitation at the thought of meeting with Itachi once more. What if he did tell her the truth? Was she truly prepared for it, whatever it was? What if he didn't? What then?

"Angel," Salt's voice was suddenly serious, "You have to. This can't go on any longer. You have to know what's going on. If he still doesn't tell you… then I will. I promise."

Angel hesitated, knowing what that promise meant. There was no way, she told herself, that she would allow Salt to place herself in harm's way on her count. Not again. "Salt… this isn't the first time, is it?" She voiced quietly, glancing up at her friend. "That you've saved me or gotten hurt doing so?"

Salt's lips pressed into a thin line and she withdrew her gaze from Angel, a sure sign she was withholding information or trying to avoid a question.

"You saved me from those thugs in the bar, didn't you…?" She coaxed.

Salt blinked at her in surprise. How had she found out? She was certain Angel had been incoherent at the time.

Angel shook her head bitterly. "All this time, I thought it was that jerk, Cain. But it was you. You've saved me so many times, and I never saw it. And just earlier… you did something… used some dark mist… what was that?"

"Wow," Salt breathed, her eyes aglow. "I can't believe you just called him a jerk. Can you say that again?"

"Salt, does that matter right now?" Angel blinked at Salt in surprise. Was this any time for jokes?

"Oh, it matters. It matters so much. One more time, please." Salt repeated, closing her eyes to listen more intently.

Angel was taken aback, but relented, "He's a jerk, okay? You were right and I was wrong. He was terrible. Manipulative, selfish, and… just an all around jerk. Is that enough?"

Salt laughed, a pleasant sound, one she hadn't heard in months - even if it felt somewhat out of place. "Yeah, for now. I'm going to want to hear it again, though."

"Sure, Salt." Angel humored her friend, although she didn't quite understand what there could possibly be to laugh about in the given situation. "So… that dark mist?"

"I…" Salt began carefully. "I was given those gifts. So that I can better protect you."

Given supernatural gifts? Angel met her eyes in alarm. By whom? It did not take long for realisation to slam into her, stealing the very breath from her lungs.

"Itachi," she whispered simply in understanding. Those shadowy ropes and weapons Salt had summoned in the fray had borne a curious, frightening resemblance to the smoke-like tendrils that blemished her own back. Marks that Itachi had permanently left inked on her flesh.

Salt nodded, wordlessly confirming that her master had assigned her to watch over Angel.

Angel's mind raced, struggling to accept that despite shutting her out and severing ties between them, Itachi had still apparently made provisions to see to her safety. She suddenly found herself wondering how much he might have intercepted without her knowing, just as Salt had. Whether he knew why all these things were happening to her. Those were answers she knew, however, that she could only obtain from him.

She hesitated. "And… those dogs? Those holes in the ground…? Do you know where they came from, why they were after me?"

Salt looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry Angel," she answered helplessly, regretfully. "I don't know what that was, or why this is happening to you, either. I wish I knew what I was protecting you from."

Angel gulped miserably, staring at her friend, slowly processing her words. Something then occurred to her. Salt answered to Itachi, who was not human. She had fled from whatever place she had been at, serving his family in the past. All the facts Angel's mind had pieced together pointed to one logical conclusion, that was now impossible to ignore. Something that made all of Salt's strange quirks and confusing irregularities over the years make complete sense.

"You... aren't human either, are you?" Angel asked her friend directly, pulse hammering in the base of her throat. She already knew the answer and yet somehow, she needed to hear it confirmed aloud.

A look of hurt flashed briefly through Salt's eyes before she lowered her gaze and shook her head. "No, Angel. I'm not. So don't worry about me. You do what needs to be done. I'm on your side, always."

She lifted her gaze anxiously, trying to gauge Angel's reaction, a sliver of dread whispering through her veins. Would her friend hate her for admitting it, for keeping the truth from her for all these years? Would she reject her?

But to her astonishment, Angel was staring at her openly, with nothing but acceptance in her tearful eyes.

"Salt. Why didn't you ever tell me…?" she whispered.

Salt smiled ruefully. "How could I, Angel…? How would you ever have believed me?" she questioned gently.

Angel shook her head. It was true that prior to all the unnatural events that had occurred in her life - ones she had seen with her own eyes - it was unlikely she would have accepted such a confession.

"And Levi? Does he know…?"

"Only very recently," Salt wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I told you, I just wanted to leave my past behind. All of it. But now, we all deserve the truth. Please. Speak to him. He'll explain everything. He has to, now. I'm sorry I can't say anymore. It's best you hear it from him."

Angel reached out, and took both her hands in hers, once again overcome with the unshakeable feeling that she had contributed to that, was the one responsible for directing Itachi's attention directly onto Salt and shackling her to all her burdens once more.

"It doesn't matter to me. You're still my friend." She answered reassuringly, trying to understand the look of hurt she had spied on Salt's face. "You'll always be my friend. No matter what you are. No matter what I say. Okay?"

Salt lifted her head, tears filling her eyes at Angel's words. She nodded and opened her mouth to agree but only a broken sound escaped her lips. She drew her hands back and raised them to her eyes, entirely overcome, and wept bitterly. Those were the words she had wanted to hear. The words she had needed. They were friends. They would always be friends. Nothing was ever going to tear them apart.

All the months of missing Angel seemed to crash down on her at once and she could not stop herself from crying miserably, her shoulders shaking as the relief of Angel's simple words swamped her being.

"Has -" she choked out, her mind still stuck on words spoken long ago, words that had never left her heart. "Has being friends with me been painful for you?"

Angel's chest constricted painfully. She had forgotten those words spoken in anger, in what felt like an eternity ago. So much had happened since then. But it was just like Salt to linger on them, to take them to heart, to be tormented by them.

"Not being friends with you has been so painful for me, Salt." Angel answered quietly, but Salt could not bring herself to meet her friend's eyes, she was so overcome by finally laying the hurt out in the open, by finally hearing the words that put the broken pieces of her heart back together.

She felt Angel's arms wrap around her, felt the younger woman sniffling against her shoulder, and knew that Angel was crying, too. The two women wept together, reestablishing a bond that ran deep and true, that held strong regardless of how long it had been neglected between them.

Minutes passed, and two tear-stained faces shot up at the sound of a knock on the open door to see Levi standing in the doorway bearing a tray with a steaming teapot and three mugs.

"Oi. Drink something, you babies. You need to replenish all that salt water."


AN: That's a wrap, folks! Reviews are gold! See you next chapter!