Syl drove to the nearest area of town that had high buildings and scanned the skyline for Krit's figure. They all avoided churches like the plague, all except Ben, so she stuck to offices and schools. It took only a half hour before she caught sight of him, sitting on top of a high school. She grabbed the nearest ledge and started climbing, alternating between pipes, windowsills, and crevices to get to the top.

"Hey," she said when she'd reached him, sitting down close beside him. He turned to her slowly, looking pleased to see her but surprised at how near she was sitting.

"Hey."

"The stars are nice," she remarked. He glanced at her and she wondered if he remembered that night at Manticore, realized that of course he did, they remembered every day of their lives. She sighed.

"They're nice," came his belated agreement. There was a long silence before she said anything.

"Krit," she said softly. "Let's go home." He shook his head.

"I don't like it there right now," she said gently. "I'm going to stay out here for a while, maybe-"

"No." She put a hand on his arm. "Together." Slowly his eyes raised to hers.

"I thought-"

"Never mind about before," she said softly. "I don't want to talk about that. I don't want to fight. Let's just go now." It took a long time for Krit to nod, but he did, stood up. They went back to the car and climbed in, drove in silence back to their building. Syl thought about what she was doing; she intended to get home, climb into bed with Krit, and do what she hadn't wanted to do since Brin and Zack disappeared. But she didn't really want to now either; she wanted to try to make things better, but she didn't want to actually do this. But she would; she had to. She had to let him know that she still loved him, even if the thought of doing anything made her want to run, or at least vomit.

They parked the car and rode the elevator upstairs, went into the apartment and walked silently back to the bedroom they used to share. It was all very odd, and they were both somewhat uncomfortable, but that didn't stop them from sitting down on the bed together, or stop Krit from stroking a hand down her cheek and leaning forward to kiss her softly. Her lips moved against his lightly, cautiously, and she felt him touch his fingers against her barcode before he deepened the kiss, his hands trailing down to her shoulders, slipping off her jacket before pulling at the hem of her t-shirt. Syl pulled her face back slightly and raised her arms, let him pull her top off, let him unhook her bra and slip it over her shoulders. He pulled her close again and kissed her deeply, his hands trailing hot over her skin. She jerked away suddenly and his eyes flew open.

"Sorry," she whispered, kissing him again. He pulled back.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice hurt. She swallowed hard and opened her mouth to try and explain, decided against it. She was sure now, she didn't want this, but she wasn't going to tell him that, wasn't going to hurt him anymore. Syl flattened a hand against his chest and forced a small smiled, gently pushing him back on the mattress. His hands slipped around her back as she leaned over him, kissing him again, and after a few moments the tenseness slowly left him and he squeezed her shoulders, turned them over. She felt momentary fear as she watched his eyes darken above her, but clenched her fists in the blankets so he couldn't see and waited for him to pull off his shirt, reminding herself that this was Krit, so it was okay. He lowered his head to nip his way down her throat, brushing his lips over her collar bones as he slipped off the rest of his clothing and reached down for the button of her jeans. Syl's whole body stiffened as she felt the heat of him through the denim and he frowned, paused.

"What is it?" he whispered. "Syl? What's wrong?" He started to pull away but her hands gripped his shoulders, stopped him from moving. She wanted him to know she still loved him; he needed that. She just had to get herself under control, and she could make it through this.

"It's alright," she said, slipping out of her clothes for him and pulling him closer. She hooked a foot over one of his calves and kissed him again, and it didn't take long for him to get back into it. When she felt him moving into her, his hands roving over her body and his lips soft against her face, whispering half-words, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and turned her head into his neck so he wouldn't see.

"Syl," he said softly, his eyes half-closed as he turned her head to find her lips, kissed her long and deep as he moved. "I missed you. I love you."

"I love you too," she murmured, and clutched his shoulders, trying not to feel too much. "Hurry, Krit," she whispered, hoping he'd take her request as one of passion. He smiled down at her.

Suddenly Syl's eyes snapped open.


"Shut up!" her foster uncle yelled, slapping her face as he moved on top of her. She felt a bruise blooming over her cheek and she stopped sobbing, bit her lip, drawing blood that trickled down toward her chin. Her small hands dug into the mattress; she tried not to cry, not to scream, not to make it any worse on herself than it had to be.


She tried not to gasp, tried to shake it away. Above her Krit was whispering to her softly. Her body tensed again.


His sweaty fingers grabbed her blonde hair painfully, pulling on it as he moaned above her, his body pressing her down into the mattress, smothering her, slipping and sliding against her. "You like that?" he grunted as silent tears rolled down her face. His gravelly voice made her even more nauseous than she already was and then he grabbed her small chest in his meaty hands, squeezed painfully. "Yeah, you do, you tight little slut," he panted as she cried without sound. "Yeah, you do."


"Oh God," she whispered, tears threatening. "Oh God, oh God." Krit's lips brushed against her cheek, her forehead. "Oh God," she bit out again, trying not to cry, trying to lie still.

"Syl," he breathed, his lips closing over hers for a deep kiss. She felt bile rising in her throat but fought it back, forced herself not to do anything but lie there.


She could feel herself bleeding, could feel herself tearing inside as he moved. Her hands stung from where her nails were digging into her palms, but that pain was a welcome distraction from the rest of what was going on. She squeezed her eyes shut. He was making little sounds, grunts and moans and curses, and her body began trembling as a seizure started coming on, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt a bead of cold sweat slip down her lower back and she kept shaking, her body's convulsions coming stronger. A knock came at the door and Syl's eyes snapped open. She saw the doorknob turning.

"No!" she screamed, tearing at her foster uncle's shoulders, gouging out tracks of skin with her long nails. He swore and smacked her hard across the face so she saw stars, but she fought to stay conscious, even though her teeth were now chattering from the seizure and the shaking was making her wounds open even more.

"Syl?" The young voice that came through the door was cautious. "Uncle John?"

"Jared!" Syl cried. "Get back in the living room! Now!"

"But-"

"Now!" she yelled.

"I need to ask Uncle John something," he said, the doorknob turning again. "It's locked." Syl's attention snapped to her foster uncle and she saw anger flash through his eyes at being interrupted. He looked like he was ready to get up, pull the door open, and smack the boy. Syl couldn't let her foster brother see her like this, couldn't let him get hurt. She had to protect him.

"Jared, get downstairs right now!" she yelled. "Listen to me, please!"

"Shut up!" John yelled, smacking her hard again. She coughed and brought up blood, but she didn't hear Jared trying to get into the room again so she didn't care about the tooth that had come loose in her mouth. "Damned kid," he hissed, and then grabbed her and shoved her into a position that was better for him. He started moving again and the pain came back, stronger. She cried out and her body was shaking even harder now; he slapped her again.

"You slut," he hissed into her ear, grunting as he moved faster, tearing at her. "Look what you make me do." Syl's eyes fluttered closed and then something ripped inside her and she felt a wave of blood, felt the pain cut through her whole body. She shuddered from her seizure and then his mouth closed over hers, but she needed to breathe! She tried to turn her face away but his fist came up, smacked against her head. Lights danced in her eyes and she nearly blacked out, choking on her own blood.


Syl screamed, loud, and Krit's face jerked back from hers, his eyes wide, alarm taking over the desire in his gaze as he froze.

"What?" he gasped, taking in the tears on her cheeks, her body that wasn't trembling from passion. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, searching for something that would explain how he could have done that and not known it. She squeezed her eyes shut, sending more tears cascading down her face, and shook her head, gritting her teeth.

"Get off me," she whispered, clenching her fists. "Please, please. Oh God, Krit, get off me, get off me."

"Syl-"

"Please!"

"Okay, okay," he said quickly, gently, and rolled away from her, making her gasp a little with relief. She squeezed her eyes shut and cried softly, shaking; a moment later there was a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't," she sobbed, twisting away from him. "Don't touch me, please. Please, please don't touch me. Oh God, God." She was trying to calm herself down because Krit had never witnessed one of her flashbacks, never, and this was going to lead to so many questions she didn't want to deal with. But his hand against her shoulder had made her skin crawl, and she couldn't stop the tears from falling even harder.

"Syl, what's going on?" He sounded terrified. When she didn't answer he added desperately, "Tell me!"

"Tryptophan," she whispered, the slight trembling of her body increasing to strong convulsions at an alarming rate. "I need tryptophan."

"Syl-"

"Please," she whispered. He swallowed hard, nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Okay, I'll be right back." He slipped out of bed, hurried from the room, returning almost immediately with the bottle of pills, shaking a few into her hand and giving her a glass of milk. He rubbed his palm over her back but she jerked away, sliding to the other side of the bed where he couldn't reach her.

"Syl," he whispered. "What the hell is going on? What did I-"

"Nothing," she cut him off quickly, squeezing her eyes shut as her body shook. "It' just... I'm not... I can't..." More tears slipped down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you hurt?" he asked after a moment. She shook her head. "Syl," he said softly, his voice pained. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?" She closed her eyes.

"I've hurt you enough," she whispered. Krit stood up. He ran his fingers through his hair. He sat down again, reached out, paused.

"Can I hold your hand?" Her brows raised at his soft question and then she nodded; Krit entwined their fingers and she felt fresh tears stinging her eyes. They sat in silence for several minutes until her body slowly stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, exhausted from the seizure and crying. His other hand brushed lightly against her face, stroked tentatively down her cheek.

"Syl," he said quietly. "I want to help you." She stiffened and shrugged away from his touch.

"You can't," she said shortly. "This is just how I am." He didn't say anything for a long time, and finally he pulled the blankets back and slipped into bed beside her, reached out. She shied away from him and shook her head; Krit sighed and leaned over the edge of the bed, searched around on the floor. He tossed her clothes to her and she pulled on her shirt, watched him slip into his boxers. She managed a weak smile and they both sat there, uncomfortable.

"Krit..." Syl bit her lip. She felt his dark eyes on her and forced herself to go on, "Would it be... could I... could I phone Zane?" Silence, for a long time.

"It's late." She couldn't read his tone of voice.

"I don't think he would mind," she whispered. Krit stared at her for a long time until she was sure he was going to say no, get angry.

"Would it make you feel better?" he asked, his voice so soft it took her almost a full minute to convince herself that he'd actually said it. She started crying and he ran a hand through his hair. "Call him," he said finally. "Go ahead Syl, call him." Syl stared at him, trying to read his face for signs of a joke, but he didn't look like he was joking.

"Thank you," she whispered, and his nod was sad, pained. He reached for the phone on the bedside table and handed it to her, averted his gaze as she dialled. The look in his eyes hurt her, but she put the phone to her ear and let it ring.

"Heya, Zane's place," Jondy answered cheerfully.

"Is he asleep?" Syl asked.

"What do you think?" her sister answered, humour touching her voice. "It's almost three in the morning."

"How are you, Jondy?"

"Me?"

"God, please don't sound so surprised. It's depressing."

"I just thought, with before..." Jondy trailed off and Syl was quiet for several moments.

"I don't really want to get into that," she said finally.

"I meant what I said."

"I know," Syl said. She paused. "Jondy," she whispered. "I'm not angry at you. Tell me how you are."

"I'm good," Jondy answered after a moment. "I'm doing okay. How are you?"

"Alright..."

"Syl," she said gently. "I can wake him up."

"Would you?"

"Of course. Just hold on a sec."

"Thanks, Jondy." Syl waited, glancing at Krit, who'd gotten back into bed and turned away from her. She started to reach out a hand to stroke it through his hair, but then she recognized the tenseness in his shoulders and stopped herself.

"Hello?" Zane's sleepy voice came a moment later. "Syl?"

"Hey, Zane," she whispered, happiness filling her voice. She felt Krit tense further and frowned.

"How are you?"

"Okay."

"You phoned at three in the morning because you're okay?" he asked gently. Syl tried not to cry. What could she say with Krit right there?

"Just... Just tell me what you did today, alright?" she whispered. Zane let out a small sigh before he started talking about what he and Jondy were up to, the things they'd done that day. Listening to his gentle voice as it rose and fell was comforting to Syl, calming, soothing on her nerves.

"Syl," Zane said softly, and she realized he'd stopped talking. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

"I guess I should let you go," she whispered, not wanting to. She heard his breath release.

"Yeah, I guess. I've got work tomorrow, so..."

"I'm sorry, Zane."

"Don't," he said immediately. "I'm glad you called."

"Really?"

"I love you, Syl," he said softly. Her eyes flew to Krit but she wasn't sure if he was asleep, doubted it.

"Me too," she answered. "Bye, Zane," she added. She jumped a little as Krit sat up abruptly, turning toward her.

"Let me talk to him," he said.

"No." The word came out without her really thinking about it. Krit looked angry for a moment, ran a hand through his hair. Then he softened.

"I'll be nice," he promised. Was that a tiny smile on his lips? She passed the phone over wordlessly. "Hey, Zane," he said. "Yeah, you too. Yeah." Syl sat back in the bed, watched him talk softly with Zane, tears in her eyes. Gradually his voice started to get less and less guarded, and at one point he even laughed a little. Then he glanced at the clock. "Yeah," he said. "It's pretty late. I guess I should get going soon." His smile faded and there was a long, long silence; Syl tensed for the worst, but finally Krit looked down at his hands, opened his mouth, closed it. He clenched a fist, closed his eyes, and said, barely above a whisper, "I love you too." Then the phone was back on its cradle and it took him a long time to look at her. "I want to sleep," he said softly. "I just... I really want to sleep." He reached for his blanket, pulled it toward him. "You can stay if you want to, Syl. Or you can go." He swallowed. "If you want to."

"I'll stay," she whispered, slipping under the blankets. She reached for his hand and found it, squeezed. Krit turned and his lips brushed against her forehead. She hugged him close, gave a little sigh.

"Syl?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"You're due."

"What?"

"You're due for a cycle soon, aren't you?" he said softly, and she tensed.

"I forgot about that..."

"What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice gentle. She swallowed.

"I don't know."

"We'll have to find a place for you to go. Before it comes on. You'll have to leave." He sounded so calm.

"I'm sorry, Krit," she whispered. He gave her a squeeze.

"Don't," he said. "It's okay." There was a short silence and then he decided, "You can go to Jondy's." He glanced away. "There isn't anyone else."

"I could stay," she said, her voice barely more than breath. "I'd like it if I was in heat. I'd want it, Krit." He cringed.

"I don't want to see that look on your face again when you wake up." Guilty tears stung her eyes at his words and she turned her face into his chest, cried. He tightened his arms around her. "Sleep," he murmured. "It's okay. Just sleep."

"I love you," she said, her voice soft. He nodded against the top of her head, kissed her.

"I love you too," he whispered, and she let out one last shuddering breath before she closed her eyes and snuggled closer, settling into his warm embrace of safety and love. Though she drifted off, she sensed that he was awake for a long time afterward, his body tense with stress.