What Becomes Of The Strong.

Opening Thoughts - I owe all thanks to, one: everyone who gave me all them knock - out reviewsand also two: to Bimini81 for jolting an idea in my thick skull and getting me out of my harsh writer's block…hopefully.

Was it possible to love something … someone that ruined you? To hate the very sight of them and what they did to you yet still long form them in the ways that a normal lover would.

Perchance it was an unfair game Charity's heart played with her as she re-entered the Harmony prescient the following morning as a slave entrapped by Miguel's entrancement. Hollow eyed she passed all the familiar faces their obvious thoughts ringing through her head. She knew what they thought of her at this point.

Most a traitor, to Patrick.

Some, a failure for never truly figuring out what was in front of her.

And then their were the others. Those such as her Uncle Sam and Detective Lopez - Fitzgerald. Their eyes were difficult to read to her as she gave a passing glance, their thoughts most likely mixed between the two all the more they felt somewhat sorrowful for her situations.

Typical, She thought in transitory as the very presence of all others fell eluded in her mind. She dismissed them, they were no longer important although she wished that they were. Charity wished she hadn't come to see him, but she needed to.

There had been questions in her mind, all needing to be answered which was fine to her everyone in life at some point in time had questions. It was how you learnt, her mind suddenly reminded her … but a mere question wasn't the problem in the matter, it was the man she'd ask to answer him that was.

As the doors opened slowly revelling an abandoned room, Miguel sitting in the depths of it, she called attention to her suppressed mixed emotions.

Where she found love for him that she'd only begun to discover, she found hate of the betrayal that he'd bestowed upon her. Where she found anger for her inanity, she found confusion in the surrealness of it all. Where she found hurt… she knew all those emotions never truly mattered, the pain would still remain no matter how she felt.

Just like a nightmare come true, he sat closemouthed as her world came crashing down. Her mind screaming for his aid but he was the statue nothing to ever come of him, and as the image of everything falling apart in her mind passed through her , she broke.

At the meeting of their eyes when the silence was a torturous standstill she slapped him. Still he stood across from her his hand quickly reaching the crimson that had emerged from his lips as his eyes mirrored her blinded rage.

"I wanted to kill you." Her voice as torn as she once was, as she fought her reluctant tears. "I wanted you to feel, what you forced Patrick to feel that very moment when you killed him. I wanted you to fell how I felt inside," Charity went on her voice higher than a thunder.

"But I couldn't." Her eyes fell quickly to the ground as a tear marked the floors, " I couldn't because there's apart of me that's still in love with you and as crazy as it sounds, I couldn't bare to loose another man I loved. God, I couldn't bare to loose you, Miguel."

His eyes held no emotion as he went back to his previous stance and she knew that this wasn't the same man. Just a cold darkened replica of what was. "I'm sorry," Miguel commented flatly, as he looked at her with no feeling.

"I should have known that was all you could say, you're sorry," Her voice expressing hurt, as she nodded receptively saving her tears. "But you know it's okay, I'm sure in a few years when this is all over I won't miss you … I don't even think I'll care anymore about what you've done."

Maybe it would have helped her if he'd of acted somewhat remorseful for all he'd done. She would of known that somewhere in the future when she looked back on this part of her life, when she looked back on him. She'd know that it was all worth it, but it wasn't.

Her eyes fluttered shut in the instant, wanting to action to make things better. "Just as long as I know, why? I know you had a rough childhood, and no thanks to you I know what brought you to jail the first time around," Charity sighed dejectedly, " but what I don't know is what could ever drive you to kill someone. Why kill Patrick? Miguel, he was your friend."

The question had grown far too old in his conscience to answer again, so he didn't care to answer her as his eyes tore apart from hers.

"Damnit! Answer me,"

He couldn't look at her, because if he did he'd fall apart just as much as she was at that moment and at that point all of his strength would disappear and humanity would become of him.

He wouldn't answer, because the truth would kill her and in the long run it would kill him as well.

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"Lopez - Fitzgerald residents," Paloma answered distantly, in the now empty Lopez - Fitzgerald mansion. In her reply she rested the golden tray she held upon a table near in her sights.

"Hello?" She continued with low patience. "Is anyone there?"

Martin sat breathless on the other line in places unknown. He was in awe of the melodic sound of Paloma on the other end of the phone, he couldn't believe that it was truly the little girl that he had left years ago as if yesterday. His little girl. He had wanted to speak to Pilar, to make sure that everything was alright and that she was okay; But somehow the sound of his little girl on the other end gave him solstice, and with no words he hung up.

Who was that? Paloma asked herself, as she slowly put the phone back upon it's rack.

After a morning she thought would never end Pilar found herself back in the comforts of her bed, a picture of her children tightly clung to her as she tried desperately to let sleep dominate her. Only to be failed as she let out a frustrated sigh.

She couldn't sleep, not with everything that had gone completely wrong the past few days. As she rubbed her pulsating shut eyes she opened them once again focusing and thinking only about her children. Her children not Martin's for the matter, at times like this she would be angry at Martin just as much as she would missed him but he didn't seem to flash in her mind as much as he did before.

In the years that passed Pilar learnt to make Martin as oblivious as they'd been to him. Her love still there, but her need to have Martin back not as strong as it was in her other days, her children were the ones she truly loved, maybe this was why she continued to hurt them.

"I've failed you haven't I?" Pilar tearfully whispered as she gazed onto the haunting eyes which faced her.

"Momma?" A voice called to her as the image of her little girl ran through her mind. Small brown ringletts, and hazel eyes such as her own so full of hope and happiness.

"Paloma? Hija, what are you doing home? I thought you and Tania were going to have a girl's night out ?" Pilar asked with a slight sign of laughter.

"We were," Paloma declared moving forward to her mother. "But I changed my mind. I brought you some tea, I thought it might help you sleep." She concluded changing subjects, while resting the small tray on Pilar's night stand before sitting comfortably at the foot of the large bed.

Pilar gave a small smile as her eyes went to the tray then back to her daughter. " You know, Miguel wouldn't have wanted this." she confided in low tone.

"He would've wanted me to carry on like nothing's happening?" The dark haired girl retorted. " I can't do that, not when I'm too worried about my brother … and my mother, right now." Paloma stammered, as she looked at her mother once more, her eyes lightning. " But I'm kinda hoping all of that will change when, Antonio and Theresa come back. Did you call them?"

"I did," Pilar answered quietly, as she took a small sip of her tea.

"And? Come on Ma, don't keep me in suspene!" The young girl spoke her voice so filled with joy she weas practically shrieking begging her mother for some news on the arrival of her brother and sister.

That made Pilar feel worse. Paloma, unlike the rest of her siblings, held no resentment towards her older siblings or her father for that matter. Conceivably, her forgiveness was simply rooted to an innocent childhood dream. The dream of having a family as all children deserve. That was all Paloma ever wanted, and Pilar was saddened by the fact that she'd never be able to give it to her.

"Hija," She began softly searching for the easiest way to break things to her. "That's the thing."

At the low tone Paloma caught on all too fast as her mood quickly changed. "…They - aren't coming are they?"

Pilar slid her hand against her daughter's as she replied. "No, Sweetheart they aren't."

" I guess I should have expected as much but you know I just thought that maybe things would change. That if the time went by fast enough they'd probably change their minds about us, but they didn't. I guess were curse or something," Paloma laughed sardonically, " Not even our own family wants us."

"Oh, Paloma," Pilar breezed as she pulled her daughter into an embrace, cradling her small figure in her arms gingerly. "Don't ever think that do you understand me? I don't want you to think you aren't wanted because you are. You brother's and sister are just being stubborn, but whatever the case, we're going to get through it," Pilar's voice lulled softly. " Like always."

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Kay…

A voice called as she looked around the dark space. She was looking for her cousin she no longer cared if Charity wouldn't return her call s her cousin needed her, and despite her feelings she was going to be there for her.

"Charity!" She called as her footsteps grew fast against the wood floor, as she looked deeper into the burrows.

Kay…

The voice now yelled as she ignored it once more. As she opened another empty door.

"Kay," Fox said softly before turning her towards him. " Kay, you need to stop this."

The auburn haired woman recoiled her eyes glossy as she turned away from the mean her head shaking heavily in protest. " I can't, not when I know she's here." She stated in a murmur moving past Fox, "Charity!" She bellowed.

"Katharine," Fox thundered in a grim tone as he turned the shaken woman towards him once more. His thumbs moving back and forth as his eyes pierced into hers, " She's gone … Charity's gone."