BEFORE NIGTH AWAKENS
By Sickle Sword
--o0o--

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, only their insights since the real producers didn't bother doing so.

A/N: Well, I've had a bit of time in my hands so what else can I do in my spare time but to post another chapter? Oh my, if only things were THAT simple. Anyway, enough of that. Though I experienced a bit of drought in the reviews section (a big thank you denna5!! I thought nobody liked me anymore until you came along! pouting) , I started to think of actual plot, which I guess is good, and most of the things you probably didn't understand until now and will not understand later, will be explained in one point or another. Unless I wasn't aware of the fact that it was not understood and therefore, obviously, hadn't explained it.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: I'm currently searching for a beta, so if you think you are up to it- please mail me!

And now, to quote a great ending to A/N, courtesy of the last chapter: just read the bloody thing!!!!!

It should have been me who had told him the truth, even when I didn't know what the meaning of the truth is, for I have lived in a lie. I should have held him close to my arms and closer to my heart and even when he chose to go away, I should have followed. It should have been me who died. Not him.

Chapter 5: Starting From Scratch

You are you.

Yet no one knows that. No one really cares. The only one who knows, prefers to forget that, and you can't blame him. The secret of your identity is a deadly one, for it brings out skeletons that are better stay buried forever inside the dimmest pits of hell. The essence of your existence is the key for many truths while it brings no truth to light. Everyone forgot what light is, what was once called truth, so you are here faultily. Without a real reason left.

Besides one- to save Wyatt. And for that reason, you will agree to lose everyone, the same family that you have lost already. Not agree. . .agreeing is a too strong word here. But if the need arose, you will be willing to pay in their lives in exchanged to his. You will even sacrifice your soul.

But it's easier said than done, and even when you know you have to do it, it still hurts. You thought it would get better. But things aren't THAT easy. Not in your case, anyway. You heart refuses to work by the plan.

After the first hour with your family, things get harder. After the first day- nearly unbearable. Every time you hear their voices, something in you is breaking.
You wish to hold them in your arm, to see that they are really alive. Only you can't.

At the first morning, still disorientated and your mind really not in its place, you were shocked to their sight. You stepped slowly to your mother and touched her arm, refusing to let go. So near you could feel her Jasmine perfume, the odor you wished for so long. But then she closed her eyes in suspect, her arm being torn away from your longing fingers in suspicion- mistrust- fear. It was like having washed by a bucked of freezing water which, ironically by the way, in their way purified every oily, pathetic and needy part from your aching body. You are not in your time anymore- you remind yourself and wear uncaring expression even when it kills you inside, and you orb to find another demon to vanquish, hoping the demons in your heart will be gone with its smoke as well.

They think you are obsessed, paranoid and neurotic. You think they are careless, over compassionate and too stubborn for their own good. Yet you don't want them to change. You understand, even. It's not their fault. Or yours for that matter. You have lived in different times, and a person is always influenced by his environment and era. You ripped your heart for your own survival, so having second thoughts or compassion is useless. They have lived in the kingdom of trust. So they trust everyone, everyone but you, who needs their trust the most.

At lonely nights you don't let yourself feel pity yourself even when you know it will be so much easier than to fight. Happy Thoughts, your hardly fueled mind command, and you, who were left without real strength or desire to fight, listen.

You remember the apple trees from your childhood, the ones you could always trust because they grew up with you, and with every inch you gained, they grew taller by two. You don't let the reality a door to sneak in and to claim the cold fact that they were ripped from you, chopped in the most agonizing way. Deep down you know that even though they will not give you fruit anymore, in a way they will. Apples will always be your favorite fruit.

You remember the day you all went a picnic, even Leo was there, and your aunts. You were happy. You can't tell where you went to, you never could remember that, but that's irrelevant. The only thing that is- is the fact you were together, happy, family. You were united against any injustice or evil that may come. Demons never attacked that day, and even while not knowing about magic and demons, you were grateful that none of the usual excuses were told. You were plainly happy.

But then there is a big sea of nothing. You could never remember what was in that time that feared you so much that you chose to repress it. You also could never ask someone. When you finally found the courage, it was too late. There was no one left to ask. So you're stuck with a big hole in your memory, hoping the mystery will vanish some day. The truth can't be any more frightening than the catastrophes your mind created. And it certainly can't be more horrible than seeing your parents die.

Yep, in times like today, telling yourself to think Happy Thoughts isn't really useful.

Maybe someday, with practice, it'll get easier.

Or maybe the world will stop spinning so fast that is leaves you breathless in attempt to keep with its pace, only to find you have more thousands of light years to go.

Sometimes you think you shouldn't have done this. You shouldn't have gone back. You should have stayed in your home, trying to repair the last shreds of hope of the free world. Only, you couldn't. There were things you simply can't glue back together, no matter how much you want to. You can't bring back the dead. You can't make the fallen bridge and comrades stand again. You're not the wizard of Oz.

You can't bring Dorothy a heart.

And while there are times in which you're afraid you ran away, you remind yourself that you had no choice. Not that it helps, talking to yourself. You didn't really do it for the greater good, your mind taunts you. It knows you. It knows what you can and you can't do. And it knows you know it. You were always a dreamer. Even when the defenses of New York fell, you thought there was still hope. But it wasn't really hope all along, now you are ready to admit it. It is willingness to accept any alternative, no matter how far fetched it was. Yep, that's you.

Even if you were the last man alive, you would have asked a building to give you an apple, not really getting handle of the whole End of the World thing. You are not really the man to be recruited to this mission. Hell, even someone who will TELL the damned building to give him banana will be better. But he's not you. And you're not him. So there's only one thing you can do about it.

You change yourself.

Stone headed to prove to the universe that you are a new man, you are welcomed by a slight problem.

Wyatt has been kidnapped.

--o0o--

I know that in the Wizard Of Oz it was the Tinman who wanted a heart, but since he was a minor character and Wyatt is. . .well, honestly speaking- one of the major ones, if not The one, I thought it didn't fit.