My Heart Doth Wander

Chapter 8 : She Dies to See Your Madness

I drink my drink, and I don't even want to

I think my thoughts when I don't even need to

I never look back cause I don't even want to

And I don't need to

Because I'm getting away with murder

I feel irrational, so confrontational

To tell the truth I am getting away with murder

It isn't possible to never tell the truth

But the reality is I'm getting away with murder.

"Getting Away with Murder" – Papa Roach

Sonic dragged the basketful of fish to one of the wooden picnic tables. Rotor went to retrieve the cutting board and knives to prepare the fish. Bunnie and Sonic were smiling. It could've been any ordinary day.

'It IS any ordinary day', Sally corrected her thoughts.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said, and left. She knew she could get away with a lengthy absence. They all knew she was not keen on gutting fish.

She went down to the secret door. Some kids were playing in the pool and they didn't notice as she slid into the dense foliage.

-You are troubled.- Cu noted as Sally settled herself down on a flat rock. The squirrel sighed.

"Yeah."

-What is wrong?-

"Lupe and her pack are coming. They want to...help us." Sally shrugged. "Get the city back, you know."

She couldn't even imagine what to do with the city, if they ever managed to reclaim it. It'd been her home once, all those years ago. But now it was so warped, so alien...so damaged. They could clean it up, she guessed... But to live there?

She couldn't picture it.

-It is a strange thing to think of.-

"You can say that again," the girl chuckled, staring at the gleaming surface of the Source pool. "But it's like..." She struggled to put words to her unsettling emotion. "It's like...part of me doesn't want to fight...ever again. It's just so sick of it. And the other part..." She picked at a loose thread on her vest. "The other part doesn't ever want to STOP. It can't even ACCEPT that someday the fighting could be over. It's like...it's like part of me will be dead if it ever stops fighting."

-That is because part of it will...-

Sally stared at the ball of Light that was Cu.

-Part of you will be dead, Sally. But death is not a bad thing. Other parts of you will still be alive.-

"But will I miss the dead piece?" She mused. "It wants me to think so... it doesn't want me to stop...It doesn't WANT to die..." Sudden tears stung her eyes... she could see Sonic in the cafe the other day...how he'd flown at Geoffrey in a fury.

"You wish he was still alive, don't you?" The skunk had accused. And Sonic had panicked in a rage. Maybe he did. Maybe some part of him really wanted Robotnik back, so he could never stop fighting and running and trying, so that part of him would never die. What if it did die? He'd be different...but was different a bad thing? Was it a better thing?

'It's always fear...fear of death...holding us back...'

Robotropolis: Interrogation

The girl nearly fell to her knees when the door slid open. Her legs were in restraints that were welded to the floor.

"Oh Goddess...no...not HIM..."

Robotnik was going to come through the door, and she was going to die at the sight of him...she just knew it...her heart was hammering in her chest, trying to kill her before HE did.

She was going to die, and she was so afraid... but her heart would be more merciful to her than HE would.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat... beat faster, heart.

"You can't tell me things will get better, can you, Cu?"

-No, I am afraid not.-

"I thought maybe you could...see stuff. Like in the future..."

-I cannot. Sally, nothing is certain. Even those who CAN see the future do not see it exactly as it will occur. They only see the most likely way the future will unfold.-

For some reason, this did not unsettle her. Good, maybe...maybe that was good. That she didn't know what was coming... for better or worse. She'd just have to steer it towards better herself, and let the rest work itself out.

"Yes...that's the only way to go. With the flow." She smiled, because it reminded her of something Sonic would say.

-Just watch where the current takes you.-

Yes. Let it ride...but watch out for those sunken logs and those sandbars...and that waterfall right around the bend. Relax until it came time to fight. Flow...just flow with life...

She thought of that part of her pleading with her not to let it die.

Flow with life...and death...

Everything had to die sometime.

NO, NO, not him, not HIM! She opened her mouth to scream, or maybe to let her heart fly out, because it was crawling up her throat, and beating, beating so hard, all through her.

The doors slid open and someone entered behind her. They circled around to face her. She was shaking, sweating, only a little mew coming from her mouth.

He came into view and halted before her, eyeing her with bottomless freezing eyes...looking UP at her.

Her breath blew out in one shaky long exhale. The sense of relief was so strong she nearly cried. It WASN'T Robotnik! She blinked through her tears, staring at him. It was an Overlander, very short and skinny, and...not sick, exactly. But tired, maybe. World-weary? His eyes, an unusual milky-blue shade, were still focused on her.

He did not look happy.

But she was safe, safe, safe! It wasn't Robotnik!

He gave a shrug, as if unconcerned with what came from his mouth. It was almost like routine. "Well...since you're here, I might as well ask you where Knothole is."

"I was hoping you could tell me," She joked, still flooded with relief. It was like she'd been on the edge of a cliff, and had been pulled back by a savior. The sense of beating death.

He titled his head and stared at her, and something...just something...in his expression...

It made her feel like she was thrown right back to the edge of that cliff, and this time she wasn't just standing there...she was slipping.

She realized, suddenly, with the surge of vomit rising in her throat, that Robotnik was not the only dangerous person in the world...

Sally was sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping her toes into the Source. It felt cool and warm all at once...and it was very soothing.

-You have questions for me.-

"Uh yeah..." She startled a little, half-closed eyes widening. "I was wondering if you had any insight on Snively. Any ideas of how to handle him."

That sounded dumb. They'd handle him the way they handled Robotnik. They'd keep going at him until he crumbled too. "Not that we don't KNOW what to do," she added firmly. "It's just...ah...I don't know."

She stared down at her toes, wiggling them so they peeked up through the thick liquid. "Sometimes I get tired of having to be...the leader. Tired of being expected to know all the answers, you know. I'm groping too... I'm sometimes playing this by ear too...and I just think...they don't know it."

-I believe they do. But they are afraid to tell you would shatter your confidence, or make you angry. They respect you dearly.-

"I know... sometimes I wish they'd argue against me more. I've made a lot of mistakes, Cu... and they still put their faith in me. It's scary. It's heartening...but it's scary too..." She sighed. "I know Sonic feels like that too... they expect just as much of him as they do me. Maybe more."

The entity was silent.

"Ok. Well let's talk about Snively then." She wrinkled her nose.

-How are you thinking to handle him?-

"Just...go at him. Like we did with Robotnik. It probably won't take much effort... he'll surrender. He isn't like his Uncle."

-And? Other thoughts?-

"Snively... I know I should...be more concerned with him, you know? After what he did here. But he HATED Robotnik so much...I mean, we all KNEW that, even if Robotnik didn't. Which he should've...it was pretty obvious. He hated him the most. Not us."

-But he hates you as well. I can sense that in his imprints. He blames you for participating in his pain.-

"Oh please." She kicked viciously at the Source, wishing it was the needle-nosed brat's face. "We didn't do ANYTHING to him! I hate him, Cu! I sometimes wish I HAD killed him that day. They all think I'm a killer...maybe I should have KILLED!"

-That would not have been best for you, Sally.-

"Like any of this is best..." She mumbled, and then frowned. "Well, I didn't kill him. So now we have to deal with him." She did not want to mope. "What else can you tell me about him?"

-I sense a storm in him. Very near.-

Bah, what else was new? Sally shook her head in contempt. Snively...so overdramatic, the guy was. Always pretending and looking like the epitome of misery.

'I just wish Cu could see what a faker he is.'

-I am serious, Sally.- The light seemed to brighten, bathing her in a white glow. –It is hurricane force, right over the horizon. He is very troubled... and dangerous.-

She stood up. "What about...giving up? Does he seem desperate?"

Cu waned a bit. –I cannot tell. He is desperate, yes, but not remorseful, Sally."

One usually required remorse to surrender to their hated enemies. Humbleness. A willingness to be forgiven and forgive... (not that she could forgive him...)...a willingness to at least apologize.

It was that, or... just having nowhere else to go. No options left but surrender... or suicide...as, having read various history texts, she had discovered many despot's lives had ended by their own hand...

And she couldn't imagine Snively...hateful little bastard, killing himself...not without trying to take someone down with him. He was not going to apologize, and he was not out of options...not yet. Maybe he would be when she and Lupe's Pack and the Freedom Fighters all showed up at his doorstep, banging down his doors.

But not yet... He wasn't surrendering yet. She should've known though.

"That was a stupid question... But...what about afraid? Is he afraid?"

The light dimmed even further, like the darkness in Snively's soul...even just thinking about that darkness...was enough to snuff out beautiful bright lights forever...

-Oh yes, Sally. He is grievously afraid.-

This room was cold. Maybe it was just the man's eyes, still on her, all ice and glaciers and deep hypothermia-inducing waters. She wished he'd stop staring...

"Wh...why do you want to know where that is, anyway?" She glared back at him, trying to shake the unnerving feeling that she was staring Death in the face.

"It's the home base of the core Freedom Fighter group," he snorted, tilting his head again...it reminded her of a falcon cocking its head at a rabbot soon to be its next meal.

"Ah," she said. She sort of knew that. Who didn't know about Sonic and Sally...they were the figureheads of the Freedom Fighting movement. But she hadn't wanted to be a fighter...she just wanted to find a home...a safe place. What place was safer than the impenetrable Knothole?

"I'm sorry," she offered, "But I've never been there. I'd like to know where it is...too..." She fumbled for words. "Erm...not that I was planning on JOINING or anything..." She laughed nervously.

"No, of course not... You don't have the spirit in you."

She snorted, vaguely insulted. "You don't look like you have much SPIRIT, yourself."

He was so pale, so skinny and sick...he was perspiring and his lip was curling to reveal those blunt Overlander teeth.

She wanted to laugh and throw ridicules right in Death's face...because she was afraid. Afraid of those bottomless eyes, with a little specter light way down at the bottom, like ghosts staring out at her. She wanted to ridicule to deny her thoughts. He wasn't Death. He was harmless.

"Where's Robotnik!?" She demanded suddenly. "Where's the evil one himself?"

The small man went ramrod stiff.

"He's dead..." he finally uttered, in a strangling whisper. "Don't you know he's DEAD!? He's no longer ALIVE!!" His voice rose to a fever pitch and his hand went to his belt. She saw a flash of metal.

A gun. A pistol.

She screamed, trying to jump backwards...she merely ended up on her rear, with her ankles still shackled tight in the leg restraints. Tears rose in her eyes.

"He's DEAD!" The small man hissed, clenching the gun in his fist. He wasn't aiming it at her...it was pointed towards the floor. She felt the vomit that was in her throat slowly slide back down into her stomach, a burning putrid mass. "He's DEAD DEAD DEAD!!"

"Alright," she choked. "Alright, he's dead! I believe you, my Goddess!"

"Have you seen him?" The small man questioned. "You didn't see him, did you?" His chest was starting to heave. Her own breathing wasn't quite calm at the moment either... she wondered if he was having some sort of attack. Like panic, maybe. He looked terrified, and yet insanely angry...angry at his own fear.

"No, I didn't see him." She was curious, despite her unease. "How er...how did he die? Did the Freedom Fighters get him?" She tried to keep her voice placid and neutral.

He chuckled, but it sounded more like gagging. "I suppose you could say that. But it was mostly me-" He shut his mouth abruptly, squeezing his eyes closed like a pain had struck him.

"Um?...are you...?"

Those eyes opened, wide and horrified; he was casting hunted glances all around the room and the gun was held up to his chest, quavering.

She felt the vomit tiptoeing up again. Heart still beating...she wished she hadn't urged it to patter so fast. "What...what are you looking for?"

"I left him...I LEFT him! I saw him die...he was DEAD..but he's there. So I don't know what they're doing with him."

"You left who where?" With every word, her voice shook more. She wanted him to stop talking...and she wanted to keep him talking.

Damned.

'If I do or don't. If he does or doesn't.'

"Robotnik. In Knothole."

"He died in Knothole?" Now she was thoroughly confused, and her head ached. "But I thought you didn't know where it was-"

"Shut up-" He said abruptly, his brow furrowing. Thinking. His eyes were alit with a furious glow, like lanterns shining behind ice. "I can't remember..."

----

Because of Cu. He KNEW it was Cu's doing....it had stolen his memories of Knothole's location. CU, the powerful...Cu the purifier...the life-bringer? Shuddering hit his form.

It had brought him back from the dead, and he – scared, devastated, had recalled thoughts of the one who'd originally given him life. Mum. Mommy. Mother. His first thoughts of her in a long time. And today was her birthday, he remembered with jolting sickness.

And HIM. He was in the thoughts too. Daddy. It all led back to HIM. The original ABUSER.

'It's because of him I'm here'.

He'd run from Daddy only to find Julian. He'd thought Julian could save him.

They were going to bring Julian back from the dead. He was never going to get away.

All because of Daddy.

And his eyes shot wide and the vehemence boiled up again, choking him until he couldn't breathe or see.
--

She saw something change in him, some kind of shifting in the glaciers in his eyes. Like a storm blowing over the icy sea. She tried to move away from him, but the restraints kept her in place.

She shouldn't have kept him talking. She should've shut up. Because Death was now staring her in the eyes, and he was very very angry.

"We'll go in, then," said Sally firmly. "We'll go in and show him that's there IS more to fear than he thinks."

-I would be careful.-

"We will," said the squirrel indignantly. "We always are."

-I know. But he's scared and dangerous. He's killing.-

She thought of going in the Command Center and standing before Snively's throne with her father's sword in hand. She thought of thrusting it into him like she'd done with Robotnik. But that had been her own dagger. Maybe she'd use that instead, mingle his blood with his own murderous Uncle's...so they could feel each other...so they could be TOGETHER again when they died. A horrible evil smile spread on her face. Snively would love that, wouldn't he? To join his Uncle again? She could sense his fear, suddenly, like hearing his voice screaming 'NO NO NO! Don't!' in her head and her own triumph...her own sense of joy at hurting him like that.

-Don't Sally. Don't...-

"Don't what?" She was startled, the thoughts fleeing her. She felt like she was stained from where the thoughts touched. She stared at the Source longingly, wondering if it would wash her soul clean.

-Don't try to match your thoughts to his.-

Ugh. She grimaced. "Are you talking about that rubbing off thing again? That I still have Snively's essence on me?"

-Yes. There's still part of him left in your mind...and you could access it if you wanted. But that would keep it alive, like a scab that doesn't heal because of picking.-

She widened her eyes. "I want it to go away."

-Then don't indulge in those thoughts.-

Is he really that bad? Really that blackened...rotting...sick inside?

She thought of Snively handing her the knife, when she was ensnared in Casssar's spell, but still realizing what was happening...she thought of his eyes, and his voice.

His face had been blank, and his eyes wintry. His voice was a whisper, but there was no emotion there. She couldn't judge from that...but she thought maybe he wasn't rotting and sick inside...he was already dead.

-You should have let me heal him.-

Cu's voice broke into her analysis...and it was all wrong. She didn't know anything about Snively, not really, she wasn't aware if ANYTHING she guessed about him was right or wrong, and it was so tiring. She was sick of it. But she knew one thing, and it wasn't any essence of his..it was all HER.

She knew she didn't want him to heal.

She didn't want him to live.

"No Cu. I don't think so."

"WHY WHY WHY?!" The porcelain man ranted, pacing back and forth, like a maddened wolf in a cage, his hands clasped to his head with the pistol pressed cold against his forehead. He whirled to look at her, his eyes savage. "Why did I leave him there? Why couldn't he have died instead?!" She stared at him, not understanding. "Why can NOTHING ever go smoothly for me, girl!? Can you answer that?"

She stuttered, unnerved in the face of such psychotic fury. "B...Because life likes to...trip you up?" He wasn't going to kill her...her heart was. Just like she'd originally planned. Pounding so hard she could scarcely breathe.

"Trip...me...up?" He repeated the words as if having difficulty understanding. "Trip me up? Does life delight in seeing me smash my face repeatedly on the pavement? Does it want to MUTILATE ME?" His arm came out, straight and unwavering, and she nearly screamed. The gun was aimed directly at her, and his eyes were so cold, so icy, like all his molten anger had frozen, hardened, into a wasteland. "And once again, why? Why is a man such as myself the one this LIFE wants to bully? What could a child, unwittingly...unwillingly...born into this shithole...what could a newborn baby do that would invoke such...hatefulness from this LIFE?"

"I don't know!" She cried, her nose dripping snot and the tears streaking her cheeks. "It isn't MY fault!"

"Not..." And suddenly he broke into laughter. No, it was like screaming, but laughing intermingled, it was like he was crying and retching all at once. "Not...not MY fault...!" And even more suddenly, his laughter dissolved into whimpering, like a child beaten and abandoned, "Oh god...oh god..." His eyes were distant; empty. This body was not occupied. He was gone somewhere else.

"Please...not my fault..."

"N-n-no!" She cried loudly; out of fright, and the desire to bring him back, snap him out of it. To scream some logic into his head. But he seemed only to retreat further, muttering and whimpering cryptic phrases of a molested and abused soul. She tried to run again, but she was held fast to the floor; she tugged at the leg restraints until she thought she would tear her muscles from her bones. They would not budge.

"NO!" She screamed finally, at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking. Quiet as a mouse...and Death would pass her by...but Death wasn't like that. It found you no matter what. So she screamed because there was too much panic to keep inside.

His eyes started to focus. "I tried to say no...sometimes. But did it ever help?" A sneer spread across his face. "No...my dear..." And he approached her, coming right up, and the pistol was stroked along her quivering lower lip and her teary cheeks.

"The hard truth is...You're life's little puppet....its little toy. It's going to do whatever it wants with you...and you can't do ANYTHING...ANYTHING about it. It's really very sad..."

She tried to follow the gun as it traced along her jawline, her hands clenched into helpless fists. "I don't...don't' believe that..."

He ignored her, those eyes, so frigidly cold...so empty...glinting up at her. "But it's alright for you..." He whispered, "I'm going to free you from all this...free you from the trap..."

He stepped back a few paces, just enough so he could stretch out one arm, thin and lanky like a white birch limb, to its full length, and the gun barrel too, like an extension of his hand...just far enough back so he could stretch that arm and put the barrel of the gun firmly to her head.

She knew it was her doom; she knew she was dead already. But futile hope urged her to plead.

There were no miracles. No miracles in a city void of hope.

"Free from pain all ways around," he whispered.

It was so simple to kill, and there was something so beautifully elegant in the way his finger pulled back, the way her body fell in slow-motion, upon the floor with hands sprawled over the metal. And then time sped up again and her head thumped back and the blood began to spread like a crimson sheet had been pulled out from under her.

He looked down and saw his reflection...distorted...and then he saw Uncle's mustache...and his teeth...and his eyes burning fire...

Red...

Blood...

So much blood!

It was touching his boots...and it was sprayed onto his hands...

He dropped the gun, wringing his hands together, but the blood just smeared red over his skin. A whimper escaped his mouth and he backed away from the puddle. His gaze lowered and settled on her eyes, staring up at him wide-eyed and accusing.

She was free, right? Free?

But he still wasn't! He would still be here when Uncle marched through the doors in decaying glory. Maybe he'd be linked arm and arm with Daddy.

He wrung his hands furiously. The blood was burning. He could feel it. Couldn't escape it. Their laughing. They were laughing. She stared up at him, and her eyes were no longer accusing...they were filled with mirth. She was screaming in laughter.

He kicked her, rolling her body over, so he couldn't see her face anymore. To the walls he screamed, raking his nails over his arms, "You can't HAVE me, neither of you! I won't LET you!" He couldn't stand still anymore, he ran, a furious mad sprint, down the halls, tearing at himself with his nails, pushing his sleeves back to assault his arms, ripping buttons off his shirt.

It burned, he couldn't stop the burning.

Through the command room he went, face smeared with blood and tears. Out onto the balcony. One of Robotnik's favorite spots in the city. Robotnik and Daddy chased him all the way here, and he was cornered, or so they thought.

Snively knew there was one place he could hide, one place they couldn't find him, and it was on the streets below the balcony, it was in another realm, and he...

Flung himself at the railing, scrabbling to climb up there, and balanced against the wind and smog clouds, right on the edge of Life and Death.

..He only had to jump and they couldn't have him...

"SNIVELY!!" A voice was screaming.

He thought he recognized it, but it was hard to hear over the wind, and he was shaking so bad. It was either down...down onto the balcony where they could rip him apart, or down into the warm foul air, free.

I can't let them get me...

No, you have to fight!

Fight...fight...flight?

He didn't have a choice now. His foot slipped and he plummeted. A scream ripped from his throat, and his arms flailed.

Something grabbed him. Like a rope around his middle, stopping him in midair harshly, bruising and knocking the air from his lungs. Stars and particles flashed in his eyes and then he was being lifted up, up...and floated to lay gasping and clutching his chest, on the cold floor of the balcony. Someone was staring down at him, gesturing angrily, their mouth moving.

"Casssar," he moaned.

He felt her hands on his shoulders, shaking him. "What are you doing?!" She cried. "CAST!"

"I can't breathe," he whimpered, harshly wheezing.

She put her hands on his chest, and he felt something jolt through him. It hurt slightly, but it seemed like his lungs opened wider, and the air rushed in. He gulped for a moment, and the impact of it made his head spin. He pushed her hands away; they were crackling with magical energy.

He sat up, bracing his back against the balcony railing. His hands were shaking and he clenched them on his knees. The girl's blood smeared them, but it didn't burn anymore. It felt cool where the warm outdoor air brushed it. "I don't know...what came over me."

She eyed the blood, lifting one hand to her lips. He watched, transfixed, as her tongue traced the length of one pale digit.

"It isn't yours," she mused. "Yours is much sweeter than this..."

Sweet like the stench of rotting meat...

"It's...hers. The prisoner's..." He leaned his head back.

"It's dead," she said, tracing her tongue along her lips. Her brow was furrowed. It wasn't an erotic gesture, but for some reason he was enticed anyway. He didn't know why.

"Dead, yes." And suddenly it didn't hurt to say it...he felt the guilt slip away like morning dew off a flower.

A black flower, in the middle of a graveyard. At Uncle's grave?

Uncle didn't have a grave, he was alive...

SHUT UP.

"She's DEAD," he repeated, a little louder, to reinforce the fact.

If he killed Julian once, he'd just kill him again. "I killed her. FREED her."

Julian had deserved it. Or hadn't deserved it, actually. He hadn't deserved to be FREE. But at least his freedom meant the end of other's imprisonment.

Casssar's eyes narrowed and she looked past him, to the clouds and sky beyond. They were so high up, like sitting atop the world. "Did you want to be free, too?"

"No. I don't know what I was thinking." Snively didn't want to tell her about Daddy and Uncle chasing him...not now. That had been so irrational, and stupid. "I'm already free."

He took her hand in his, pressing it to his chest. "Casssar...don't worry about me. This is all over, now. I'm going to be fine now."

He almost believed that, for a minute there. His mouth was smiling at her.

Uncle wasn't coming for him.

Daddy wasn't coming.

He was free, he was with the one he loved.
There wasn't going to be any more pain.

He really believed that, for a minute there.

From the mind, confused and loving, of Casssar, Queen of Robotropolis.

This is where the darkness started to seep in, to seep in to stain the bones.

His mouth was smiling when his lips touched mine. He said he was alright now.

He wasn't though. He probably never would be.

This is where the darkness started to seep in, to rupture the mind like a cleaver, leaving a wound so deep and broad that it couldn't ever heal.

He said he was alright, but people like me and him, we don't ever heal, never. We can fight it. Cover it. Stitch it up, and struggle against the disease.

But the scars never disappear.

He said he'd be alright, but I didn't believe him.

I moved myself beside him, casting a glance over my shoulder at the miles of unembracing air below us...the fall I'd just saved him from.

Chased...he must have been. I know the feel of chased well. Everyone does. We all flee from something. Even if we aren't running....even if we're standing still.

I did not know the entirety of Black Flower's dark life. But I could guess which two people could chase him so long, so ruthlessly and hard, that it would drive him to death. His Uncle. The first, and foremost choice...I could see the fear in his eyes when the lights were dimmed and the red buttons on the console glowed. When I spoke the words, "Come here," it was like a shocking slap to the face.

And his father.

My eyes narrowed into slits. Fathers. Fathers...I mouthed the word. Daddy.

A ripple of disgust went through me, like filthy hands stroking my spine. I hated the word 'daddy'...

A child's voice was singing. And a woman's voice was babbling. I folded my ears down, trying to block out the words.

'Daddy, O, Daddy', I sighed

'Why couldn't you be a good daddy?'

'He was evil', my mommy cried

'He's evil; I can't take it,' and she pulled

The trigger right in front

Of my little girl eyes.

Oh! Oh! I told the child singing to shut up. I don't want to know her, bruised and white-furred and with eyes of innocence...draped over with a veil of fear... I don't want to remember her. She gets angry at me for that.

I stared down at the brink again, wrapping one arm around Black Flower's body and pulling him against me. He laid his head on my breast, letting out a shuddering breath. A time ago, I could've jumped off the railing too, being so chased by Daddy. A time ago. I curled my lip.

Not now. I was strong now.

But a time ago...

A girl was running. Me. Staring at the ground, at white feet splashing in every mud puddle and the gray grit. It was the Great War, the beginning of it. There were soldiers and war freighters rumbling by; nobody noticed the slender white figure weaving through the streets, nobody paid attention to the ragged curses and shouts from behind me.

"Faster, please, just go faster." I spoke to my feet. They were flying over the ground. But he was getting closer behind me; I swore I could feel his hands just missing the back of my neck.

I glanced behind me. No, he wasn't that close. His fur was the same pearly hue as mine, but his eyes weren't the doe-eyed stare of his daughter's, they were mean and narrowed, alit with anger and lust and cruel things. When he caught me...

I had never run before, not to this extent, never this much of a distance. I begged my legs to keep up their strength and carry me further, beyond his reaches eternally. How wonderful that would be. But while he lived, he would always hunt me...I knew it. He told me so.

Mommy had gotten away.

I gulped in a breath of the smoky air, gagging, my lungs burning. A war freighter was coming down the street ahead of me. A huge machine with many rumbling wheels carrying it forward. I would cross its path in moments...If I ran faster I could make it. If I stopped I would be blocked off, and Daddy would catch me.

I misjudged the distance. I had plenty of time to make it, but I stopped anyway...I halted in the path of the war monster coming at me, and I stared it down. Those wheels, ripping up the muddy streets, leaving huge ruts. I pictured myself churning underneath them, fur flying like snow, blood falling like rain. Bones breaking and pain fleeing, fears coming to rest shredded on the ground.

"HEY!" A voice hollered. "Hey YO! Get the freak out of the way, girl!"

I looked to the right. An armadillo solider was beckoning angrily at me from the side of the General Store.

I looked to the left. Daddy was coming, he was snarling and spit was sliding off his lips, his hands were outstretched as if he could grab me from a distance. I felt hard shudders go through me. I HATED his hands so much...I hated how the fingers crawled, and probed, and...

If I stayed still, right here, I could get away from them forever.

"HEY! ARE YOU DEAF?! BLIND?!" The armadillo was scowling and running towards me.

I moved.

I moved to the right...I let him grab my arm and pull me away. The freighter roared by, and I stared at it. I couldn't see Daddy anymore.

"Sorry," I gasped. "I wasn't paying attention..." I stared into the soldier's black eyes. He looked grim.

"It wouldn't be a good way to go," he said, and released my arm. "Now get out of here."

I nodded. And ran, with tears gathering in my eyes. If I'd stood there, gazing headstrong at Death, I could have escaped! I could have ended the chase forever.

My legs were strong, and the blood was pumping through them. They wanted me to keep running...so I did. I never went back again.


"Your father is dead," I said, nuzzling my chin against his head. "He can't harm you anymore."

He mumbled something. Then a bit louder, he queried, "What about your father, Cass? What ever happened to him?"

"I'm not sure. I ran away when I was ten."

"Do you hope he's dead?" Black Flower blinked up at me, milky blue eyes swimming with haunts.

'Are you glad he's dead?" I had asked Black Flower a few days ago about his Uncle, and he had answered scathingly honest: "Yes."

My response was not laid out bare in front of my eyes. It was clothed, layers upon layers of dusty and blood-caked clothing. I tried to shed them, but there were too many. I gave the only response that made sense.

"I don't know."

He blinked again. His breath was warm on my breast and his fingers were straying, absentmindedly, to my thigh, stroking. It felt nice. "How could you not know? I imagine it would be a simple answer."

I shifted my leg so his fingers slid to the inside of my thigh. He was calm now...and I was still hungry...

"Not so, Black Flower. Your Uncle was poisoned always...but my father was not. I knew him before the Source tainted him." I sighed, and he eyed me silently, his fingers sifting through the soft black fur. "I suppose I hoped to...perhaps heal him someday, and bring him back."

"But the man he is now?"

"I care nothing for him." Another sigh escaped me and I put my hand atop his, guiding it to lay upon delicate areas in the junction between legs. I heard his breath hitch a bit and I smiled. Ah yes, that did feel nice, just the presence, the weight of his hand there. "I only want the man who WAS to live."

"What if he's dead? What if he can't be brought back?"

"Then I..." I pressed his hand a bit more urgently, wishing the conversation's end. It was unsettling. I wanted to grab the bony juts of his shoulders and press him to the railing, drinking viciously of his mouth. "...I still can't say I wish him dead. Not...not when there's a hope."

"Hope," Snively muttered, and he stroked one delicate finger upon me, bringing shivers like a rush of cold water over the nerves. "Hope is such a fickle thing, Cass. It's a tease." He nodded, a fierce light in his eyes. "It gestates there in your mind, like a ray of light and beauty, but it's all FAKE, Cass. It doesn't REALLY exist." He tilted his head up, planting a kiss upon my neck. "Hope is the mind's way of coping...the body's way of keeping you alive for just one more day."

"Then why do you still cling to it?" I mummered, leaning my head down, lips brushing his. "Why haven't you thrown yourself over..." I tilted my head towards the endless realm of air beyond the balcony, "If everything of light and beauty is just a fantasy?"

A frown creased the skin between his eyes. He glared at me, his teeth bared against my lips, accosting the kiss. "I..." And he trailed off.

"Hope itself might be an illusion, but the things it pertains to? Love, happiness, peace...? They exist." I was trembling, lips still pressed to his teeth, the barrier preventing the connection between us. I clasped his hand again, pressing it to me. "I have you, Black Flower."

His teeth were sheathed; his lips were finally yielding. Whispering now, I crept my hand onto his thigh, caressing, "You have me. Did you not hope for this, Cast? At some point, did you not HOPE for US?"

He didn't answer. His slight body pushed against mine, demanding I submit, and I did...the balcony floor was cold on my back. He was so light though, so small and fragile, but warm, his body atop mine. We kissed for a long while, hardly breathing, hardly speaking. I could feel our pulses combined, throbbing through the floor of the balcony. And the metal didn't seem so cold anymore.

Skies were gray above me, but I thought I could see the sun shining through...for the second time this week.

I knew, if I found him, maybe now...maybe I had the power to coax my real father away from the evil that ensnared him. Maybe it had even lost its grip already, and he was searching for me, desperate to find the daughter he'd lost. Maybe? I had hope.

Snively finally broke his mouth from mine. With half-closed eyes, his warm breath upon my face, he whispered. "Yes...I did."