Chapter Four: The Opheliac Within

By the time Brooke woke up, the sun had come and gone, leaving her wondering what day time in Los Angeles was really like. She'd been in the city for almost two straight days but hadn't even been in the sun. Now she was completely awake and it was dark. Perfect.

She wrapped the robe James had bought for her around her, tying the cord around her waist as she walked down the hallway into the living area. James was nowhere to be seen. Normally he would be awake and sitting on his laptop, but he wasn't around. The pierced blonde from the night before was, however, and he was sitting in the living room with what looked like a jigsaw puzzle. His mouth was scrunched as he maneuvered the piece around the table, trying to find it's proper place.

"Hello?" Brooke said, drawing his attention. He grinned up at her.

"Hey, sorry if my grumbling disturbed you. This puzzle is too damn hard," he said.

Brooke smiled. It had been a long time since she'd had a pleasant conversation that wasn't condescending in one way or another. This was a nice change of pace.

"You didn't disturb me." Brooke sat down beside the blonde and pulled her legs onto the sofa, curling into a ball. The blonde smiled back at her and tapped her on the knee.

"I realize you and I weren't introduced yesterday because James is actually an asshole," he mused, playful glint in his eye. Brooke quirked an eyebrow. He smiled, the light of the chandelier above him shining from his lip piercing. "I'm Sam."

"Brooke. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam," she replied, relaxing a little. He seemed cheerful and friendly, very different to the up-tightness of Willa and the bluntness of Daniel.

Sam smiled, just as thunder rumbled outside and rain started to pelt down.

"I feel so sorry for James and Willa," he laughed, lounging back in his seat. A lock of his golden hair fell in front of his eye and he blew it away, observing the confused look on Brooke's face. "They're out in the rain right now, chasing down a lead, and I can nearly guarantee neither of them brought an umbrella." He turned to the window as lightning flashed outside. "James is going to look and probably smell like a wet dog and Willa will look like a mop."

Brooke giggled, thinking the same thing. James never seemed to tie his hair back, so the rain would make him look like he'd gone swimming with his clothes on. Willa, on the other hand, probably spent hours making sure her curls were meticulous and bouncy, so the rain would not help. She could picture them sitting at the diner, arguing over how wet they were. The image brought a smile to her face as she let her head rest on the cushioned back of the sofa.

It was nice being in the house when James wasn't around, and Sam was a perfectly pleasant fellow, much nicer than Willa had been at least. Perhaps they could be friends.

Sam turned to look back at her and tilted his head to the side, eyeing her.

"Don't you think you're a little far from home, Princess Brookai?"

Brooke's eyes widened as she stared at Sam, the smile on his face never faltering.

"How- how did you know?!" she spluttered, taken completely aback by his observation.

This was never supposed to happen. She was supposed to arrive in Los Angeles, find her family, meet them, live a human life for a little while and then return to Caina, all the more knowledgeable about the world she would one day inherit from her mother, the whole time maintaining the secret that she was in fact Brookai, crown Princess of Caina and future ruler of Ignis Infernalis. Her title meant nothing while she was living with mortals and that was the way she preferred it. She wanted her siblings to know who she really was, not the title she had been born with.

Sam's smile grew as he jerked around so he was facing her, excitement in his eyes.

"I have a way of knowing things," he said with a wink. Brooke swallowed back the string of expletives that was about to erupt from her mouth and nodded, allowing Sam to continue. "Don't worry, Princess; I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me." He tilted his head, leaning a little closer to her. "Why did you run away? Queen Iremia has been looking everywhere for her wayward daughter; she even sent her Guardian out looking for you."

Brooke felt the color drain from her face. Her mother's Guardian. The man she suspected of being her father. He was out searching for her this very minute to bring her home. She wouldn't stand a chance against him; he had been imbued with the darkest powers her mother could muster, along with immortality. Her fire powers were nothing compared to the darkness his powers could create.

This realization caused Brooke to rest her head on her knees, hugging her legs close to her. Sam reached across and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Brooke, if you really want to hide away from your mother and her Guardian, there is a way."

Brooke's head shot up as quick as the lightning that flashed outside.

"Please, Sam, I don't want to go home yet," she pleaded, locking eyes with him.

Sam gave her a friendly smile and stood, walking across the room to the trunk under the window. She watched as he reached down and examined the heavy padlock that was keeping the trunk shut tight. He let out a sigh and turned to her, giving her a wry smile. He raised a hand and a minute later, a set of keys was held between his fingers. Brooke's eyebrow rose, a smirk crossing her lips.

"You're telekinetic."

The shrug Sam gave her made her laugh. The boyish-grin returned to Sam's face as he searched the key-chain for the key he was looking for. Finding the key, he turned back to the trunk and began fiddling with the padlock.

"Among other things, Princess. When I'm not being exceptionally lazy, I am also a master lock-pick."

There was a click and the padlock dropped to the floor with a clunk. Brooke winced at the sound and stood to stand behind Sam as he rummaged through what was clearly James' personal items that he didn't want shared.

Inside was a large black cauldron, a small stack of books and potion ingredients as far as the eye could see. Hidden in the lid of trunk was what Sam was apparently looking for; a small, black velvet bag, large enough to hold three stones which he poured into his hand. One of them was a dark purple color with a sliver of white, another was white with streaks of black. The third was light purple with flecks of gold and silver. They shone in the light as Sam moved them around his palm.

"James uses these crystals to keep his apartment safe from prying eyes," he explained, dropping them, one by one, into Brooke's open palm. She examined them.

"They're warding stones," she said after a moment. Sam nodded and closed the trunk, handing her the bag. He replaced the padlock and snapped his fingers, returning the keys to wherever they had been before.

"The effect is long range, and he has more around the apartment, so I'm sure he won't mind if these ones go missing." He laughed. "He never goes in this trunk, so I'm sure he won't notice they're gone."

Brooke smiled, feeling the power resonating from the stones as she slipped them into her pocket. They felt warm, even through the extra padding her dressing gown had.

Sam reached into his pocket and handed her a note.

"James told me to give you this before he left with Willa. Said you might be incredibly interested."

She smirked as he went back to his jigsaw puzzle, reading the note in James' messy handwriting.

Brooke,
I've gone to do a few things around town with Willa. Chose her because she's the only one who's free. I would have asked you but you were asleep. I left Sam there to watch over you, not that you need it with that temper you've got.
One of my contacts in Hollywood mentioned that the Star de Lune Nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard is hiring waitresses. It's a triple whammy job because the club is also a restaurant and cafe. Thought you might be interested, since you still owe me for letting you stay with me.
I also spoke to another one of my contacts and got you a motorcycle. It should be sitting outside by the time you wake up. Sam will show you how to ride it.
See you later on, I suppose.
James.

Brooke blinked and looked over at Sam who was looking up at her.

"Apparently you can teach me to ride a Motorcycle?"

Sam grinned at her.

"Definitely."

~X~

By the time Brooke and Sam arrived at the Star de Lune, the line for entry wasn't very long. They pulled into the parking garage next door and walked outside into the streets. It had stopped raining in this part of Los Angeles, which meant there were large puddles everywhere. The urge to jump in them ran through Brooke but she decided not to. Water was not good with suede, and the knee high boots she was wearing happened to be made of the stuff. She'd decided to wear something casual, as casual as she could be at least, and was wearing black skinny jeans, a black camisole with a red fishnet shirt over the top, and a leather jacket. Sam had chosen to change into a pair of black slacks and a blue button up shirt.

When they stepped into the line, standing close together so they could go in at the same time, a man with black hair stepped out of the main entrance, standing next to the bouncer. He was looking over a clipboard, marking names off with a pen. Brooke swallowed hard. He was incredibly muscular and could probably snap her in two with out much thought. Was this her mother's Guardian? Had he tracked her down already?

"Don't worry," Sam said, reading her thoughts. She looked up at him. "That's Xander, he's the owner of the club. Tonight is an invitation only event, so he's probably just making sure everyone is on the list."

"Are we on the list?" she asked, keeping her voice low. They took another step forward.

"Not that I know of, but he's a friend of mine. I'm sure he'll let us in. Plus didn't James say they're looking for staff? Just mention that to him and I'm sure he'll be reasonable."

Another step forward. They were only a few people away from the entrance now, and Brooke took a good look at the owner. His hair was long, black with white tips, and spiked all over his head. He reminded her of a hedgehog. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a band logo on it, a band she'd never heard of; The Rejects. He wore black jeans and converse sneakers, making him look very punk. A silver chain hung from his neck, a silver feather hanging from it. On his wrist was a black sweatband with an 'R' on it. Even his finger nails were black. She raised an eyebrow; what an interesting outfit for the owner of a nightclub.

The group of people in front of them entered the club and Brooke stepped up to the velvet rope in front of them.

"Evening, Sammie," Xander said, smirking at the two. "Not with James tonight?"

"You know as well as I do that if James even steps foot near the club, April will pull out his tongue," Sam replied, bumping knuckles with Xander.

Xander's pierced eyebrow rose and he smirked. "Always count on you to be graphic." He turned his attention to Brooke, giving her a good once over. His eyes flashed with surprise before he smiled politely. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Brooke. She's new in town and was looking for a job. Apparently you've got a few going."

Xander rolled his eyes and turned to look into the club, his eyes glaring.

"Of course Cooper decided to spill the fucking beans about that." He sighed and unhooked the rope, allowing them into the club. "Head over to the cocktail bar and talk to April."

Sam winked at Xander and put his hand on Brooke's back, leading her into the club.

They stepped through a beaded curtain to find the dance floor packed with people, all dressed similarly to Xander. They wove their way through the sea of people to the bar on the left hand side, where a black haired woman was mixing drinks.

"You talk to April," Sam called over the music. Brooke looked up at him. "It'll look better if you talk to her face to face instead of having someone else do it. Just tell her why you're here and what kind of experience you have. I'll be in the booths under the VIP loft."

He pointed to where he was going to be. A large glass platform with rails was suspended from the roof, where a few people were sitting and laughing. A glass spiral staircase seemed to be the only way up, and it was being guarded by a very large man. Under the platform were booths, private spots for people to chat. Before she could respond, Sam was gone, weaving his way over to them.

Brooke sighed and turned back to the bar, watching the woman talk to someone through a door.

"Don't forget to clean every speck off the tables when we close up tonight, Storm," she called, yelling over the thumping music.

There was a muffled reply and the woman stepped back up to the bar, right in front of Brooke.

"You're new," she said bluntly, eyebrow raised. "How did you get in here?"

Brooke swallowed back the fear building in her throat and smiled.

"The hedgehog man let me in."

"Hedgehog-?" a grin spread over her face. "Oh boy, I wouldn't say that to his face, kid. Xander is very sensitive about his hair at the moment." She grinned and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar top. "What did he say when you came in?"

"That I needed to talk to someone named April about getting a job," Brooke replied, leaning a little closer so she didn't have to yell.

The woman raised her eyebrow.

"Well, you came to the right place at the wrong time." The smirk she gave Brooke was rather unnerving, but Brooke held her ground. "I'm April and, as you can plainly see, we're way too busy to be holding job interviews. Come back tomorrow afternoon and we'll see."

April went to turn away but Brooke grabbed hold of her arm. The older woman glared down at her.

"Please, if I don't get a job soon, my housemate will kick me out and I have nowhere to go."

"I didn't say I wouldn't hire you, kid," April said, point blank. She rolled her startling green eyes and continued glaring. "I just said we're too busy for it now. Come back tomorrow." She turned to walk away. "I swear that husband of mine is a moron."

Brooke looked down at her hands, watching them shake slightly. She wasn't normally intimidated, but April was the one in charge. The Star de Lune was essentially her kingdom, and she seemed to rule with an iron fist, much like Brooke's mother. She decided to cut her losses and walk away, heading back towards Sam.

Just as she was about to melt into the crowd, a hand grabbed her wrist and dragged her away. She looked up into the eyes of Xander who smiled sweetly at her. He led her to the table Sam was sitting at. Sam looked up as the two approached and scooted over so they could sit down.

"I take it it didn't go well?" he asked, watching Brooke sit down.

"April is a very intimidating person," Brooke said, slumping into the seat. It wasn't the most attractive pose, but it conveyed how she felt; small and insignificant.

"My wife has a habit of doing that when she's stressed out," Xander said, sitting next to Sam. "But Sammie here seems to have forgotten that I have just as much hiring power as she does, and since it's an invitation only event tonight, no one is going to come up and disturb us while I give you a job interview."

Brooke sat up straight as she stared at Xander, watching the smirk spread across his face. He could really help her?

"What do you need to know?"

~X~

James and Willa returned to his apartment just before sunrise, wet and covered in mud. The automatic heating came on as James removed his jacket and threw it across the room. Willa laughed at the grumpy look on her companion's face. In his dark blue hoody, leather jacket and tattered jeans, he looked more like a homeless man than one of the leading information broker's in the city. It didn't help that he didn't seem to mind the mud splattered on his jeans and up his shirt, or the dirty water he flicked around the room as he shook himself dry. Willa shook her head, removing her jacket and throwing it at him.

"What was that for?" he asked, removing his jacket and flopping down onto the sofa. Willa smirked.

"You dragged us through the sand and surf of Santa Monica beach to find... what exactly?"

"I thought she might have been there!" He hollered, throwing his head back in frustration. Willa sat down on the sofa next to him and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Just because I like going to the pier after dark, doesn't mean the Calaway brat does."

James raised an eyebrow as she stood and walked to the front door.

"I'm going to lay down for a quick power nap before I do that favor for you. I hope you know I do this under immense protest."

James smiled, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.

"I know."

The door clicked shut as Willa left. Silence spread throughout the apartment, leaving James alone with his thoughts. The memories he'd buried long ago began to surface behind his eyes. Brown hair, freckles... an intoxicating laugh. Light brown hair, a smile that would have broken so many hearts...

He sat bolt upright, eyes forced open before the memories manifested fully. He hunched forward, raking his fingers through his hair. Her eyes... her smile... The ticking of the clock on the wall was enough to drive him mad, but it was a comfort to know it was there; he was awake and not in his dream world. That dream world was toxic; he couldn't live there forever.

But oh, how he wished he could. Everything in the dream world was wonderful and perfect, the way it should have been. A pair of rings would have sat on her fingers, they'd live in a perfect little house on the beach... he wouldn't be what he was. They'd still be here... Daddy...

As the memories flooded into his brain, James stood and paced, shaking his head as he went to rattle the memories free from his mind. If he could do that, maybe he'd get a peaceful night's rest.

Her voice, the voice he knew like the contours of her hips, danced through his brain. James... James... why?

Before he could stop himself, another hole was added to the wall, his fist disappearing behind the plasterboard. He pulled his hand free, feeling her soft hair between his fingers. Collapsing to his knees, tears slipped from his eyes and he wept, feeling his emotions become too much to bare, as they usually did when he was left alone at night. He felt his nails dig into the palms of his hands as he punched the ground, trying to force the memories to go away. Each punch seemed to make it worse.

The weird way she drank tea... her ability to know when something was bothering him... their tiny miracle...

James jerked back when he felt hands on his shoulders. Through his blurred vision he saw her eyes. Those startling brown eyes, as deep as the forests of the world. He could see them, as plain as day, though a little voice in the back of his head told him this wasn't real. He'd let go of reality again. The two worlds he lived in were blurring together again.

"James...?"

That wasn't her voice. It was a new voice, one he'd met recently.

He stared into those eyes again, wondering if he really was losing his mind.

"Are you alright?"

The voice was back. It seemed to be enough to chase the memories away. Blinking the tears from his eyes, he saw the sea green eyes of Brooke, concern all over her face. She was in a dressing gown and slippers, but the alertness of her eyes told him she hadn't been asleep.

"...Brooke?" he whispered, looking at his hands. He had red marks all over his knuckles, some of them bleeding. He was shaking all over.

"It's okay..." Brooke's voice was soft, calm and motherly. He looked up at her again as she stood, her hand offered to him. "Let's get you some tea and you can tell me what happened."

He smiled softly and took her hand, deciding to ignore the heat radiating through his arm.

~X~

James reached up and took the hot mug from Brooke's hand as they sat on the sofa. She had dimmed the lights in the room to not encourage a headache, lighting a few candles so they could still see each other while they talked. Truth be told, he hadn't said a word to her about what was going on, and it was clear to him that she wouldn't push the subject. She would sit beside him and comfort him. He could tell she wanted to ask, but she wouldn't because she knew he had trouble talking about the topic.

James was about to open his mouth and speak when there was a knock on the door. It was almost four in the morning, and most of Santa Monica was asleep. Who would be visiting them at this hour?

Brooke stood, resting a hand on his shoulder before walking over to the door. The reassuring touch of her fingers was enough to remind him to stay in the real world. His dream world could wait.

The sound of Sam's voice drew him from his daze and he turned to look over at the door, blinking as the harsh light of the hallway flooded into the darkened room.

"I came as soon as I could. My dog kind of freaked out when I woke up not long after falling asleep and I had to calm her down," the blonde said, running a set of fingers through his short hair. Brooke nodded and shut the door behind him, giving the darkness in the room a chance to spread again.

James watched as Sam maneuvered his way to the sofa, barely scraping his knee on the coffee table. He sat beside James and looked him in the eye.

"It happened again, didn't it?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. James nodded, putting his mug on the coffee table. Sam sighed, leaning back against the cushions. "This is the third time in as many weeks, Jimmy."

"I know. I don't know how to stop it."

"Stop what?" Brooke said from behind James. He jerked at the sound of her voice. She sounded so much like... her.

James' eyes shot closed, his free hand raking through his hair. The voice was back, telling him he'd fucked up everything he'd ever wanted.

A calloused hand on his shoulder broke the reverie he'd slipped into and he looked up into the deep brown eyes of Sam. Concern was written all over his face.

"She's not here, Jimmy," he cooed, forcing James to make eye contact. James blinked, rubbing at his sleep deprived eyes.

"I know, and that's why it hurts so much. I can't let her go, I refuse," he whispered, his shoulders shaking.

Brooke stood behind them still, her eyes on James. He was wracked with guilt. His shoulders shook with the despair he'd been holding onto for who knows how long. His voice cracked with the echoes of too many nights screaming into the void. She'd heard him. When he wasn't sitting at his desk in the living room or watching TV on the sofa, in the moments of reprieve he tried to gain from sleeping, his voice would bellow down the hall way, his anguish crystal clear. He screamed in his sleep, as if willing someone, anyone, to come to his rescue and save him from the monsters that plagued his nightmares. She wanted to help him, to take his hand and drag him back from the edge, but how could she? She didn't know him well enough to even stretch out her hand. This was not something she was built for.

She'd been trained from a very young age to be aloof and emotionless, to rule with an iron fist, just like her mother. Empathy was not something she came equipped with, but it was now something she needed, to help someone she barely knew.

"Brooke?"

Sam's voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up at him.

"Yes?"

"I take it you zoned out and didn't hear the conversation I just had with James?"

Brooke nodded, feeling sheepish. Her concern for James should have taken center stage in her mind, but she'd drifted off again.

"Sorry, I was processing the situation," she admitted, giving Sam her most apologetic grin. He smiled in return, looking down at James. The long haired-man turned to look up at Brooke, smiling slightly. The muscle on his temple was throbbing and his eye twitched every so often. Sam rested a hand on his shoulder, turning back to face the wayward princess.

"James has trouble sleeping, which I'm guessing you know already." She nodded. "I'll let him tell you in his own time why, but I'd like you to stay in his room with him so he can get some sleep." Brooke's eyes shot open at the notion. Was Sam asking her to sleep in James' bed with him? She'd known the man for barely three days and now she was expected to sleep with him? What kind of world had she stepped into?

Sam smiled at the look on her face but it was James who responded.

"It's not what you think," he whispered, blinking up at her. He was deathly pale and clearly afraid of what was in his head, but he was still cognitive enough to speak. "If someone is in the room with me, I'm less likely to lash out and hurt myself. It's usually Willa but I asked her to do something for me."

"And I can't do it because I have to get home to Pippa," Sam interjected, grinning. Brooke raised an eyebrow at him. "My dog. If I spend the night somewhere else, she gets incredibly anxious and scared."

Brooke nodded, looking down at James as he turned away, muttering to himself. He twitched as he stood, easing his way into moving again. Sam offered his shoulder but the distraught man refused, using the wall to support himself.

"Sleep on the sofa in his room if you get tired," Sam said to Brooke as he walked to the door.

"What do I do if he lashes out and hits me?"

Sam chuckled. "Knowing the temper you've got, you'll hit him right back." He rested a hand on his chest and bowed his head a little. "Goodnight, Princess."

Brooke smiled and shut the door behind him, looking into the darkness as James' silhouette disappeared.

It was going to be a long night.