A/N: thank you for the reviews Scylla's revenge, wickedGreene13, Andy the willow tree, , SparkyTAS, jshaw0624, Guest, dreamer, Woman of Letters, Amateur Bacon Cook, WyomingCowboy15, and middleagemanager.

. . .

"Kristy… Anderson, is it?" Mrs. Pumpet clicked her pen and checked something off on a clipboard.

Kristy stared at her. "I've lived here for three years. You know my name."

"Three years? Huh, seems like longer." The landlady came down the hall on heels that made her body waddle in a funny way. But Kristy didn't laugh or even smile. According to the lease, damage to the apartment made her qualify for 'removal', as well as the next month's rent for repairs on said damage.

This woman held livelihood in the palm of her hand.

"Let's get to the inspection."

"In there." Kristy sighed

She didn't want to be here. It happened every month. She should be used to it by now. But she wasn't.

"Where's that dog of yours?" Mrs. Pumpet went into the kitchen, ticking things noisily off on a board. Kristy leaned against the wall, looking through the windows.

"She was at the vet. I'm picking her up tomorrow."

"No scratched out walls?"

She shook her head, staring out the glass.

"No torn furniture, broken pipes, clogged drains?"

Kristy shook her head again. I wonder where he is right now.

Pumpet poked at a few holes in the wall where pictures used to hang, making the pricks more prominent. She examined the ceiling, looked down the sink. Kristy stood by, staring. Seconds were hours. Hours were days. What was he doing right now? She wondered.

"How about the bathroom?"

It would be getting cold out. Dark, too. How cold would it get? No one seemed to know. The news said it was the storms; the police said it wasn't. It didn't matter. Maybe it would drop to freezing. Maybe it would hit zero.

What would happen to him then? Would his coat be enough?

Pumpet turned around, before glaring over the rims of her peaked glasses. Kristy was staring emptily out over the city. "Are you listening to me, Anderson?"

"How long could someone survive out there…at night?" She gazed at the black clouds in the east, the sun dropping from the horizon. It was just a dead, white glow. Frost froze to the window in icy webs.

Was he all right? Was he thirsty?

Kristy saw him. His blue-gray eyes staring at her back, watching her escape. She saw his mouth clamped tight, hands in limp fists. She saw a thousand things run through his eyes, but he didn't break down. He didn't ask for anything…not a single thing.

And suddenly, Pumpet snapped her fingers. Kristy jumped.

"W-what?"

"The bathroom, Anderson, the bathroom. Pronto!"

"The bathroom… right. This way." Kris shook her head, trying to push Legolas out of her mind. There was nothing else she could do for him. He couldn't stay. How could he? It was preposterous.

"In here," Kris said breathlessly. There just wasn't enough air. It was like an anxious fever that she tried to keep down and couldn't. She kept remembering his face when she left him, the miserable pack on the floor. How he just stared at her.

Oh, what did it matter? It was over and done with.

"…and that dog has been digging up the linoleum again-"

Kristy gripped the windowsill, looking through the shades. It was so busy out! Traffic was everywhere. At least he'll be safe at the shelter. He'd be warm, dry, fed. He'd be all right…

Wouldn't he?

"-and when she gets back from the vet you'd better-"

And it was too much. Pumpet's voice, the scratching pen, the cold clinging to the walls from outside. Kristy snapped.

"Shut up, already!" she burst out, spinning around.

Pumpet blinked.

"I mean…" she gasped. "I mean I'm sorry. I-I have to go. I have to go!" What was she saying? Kristy froze, realizing exactly what she said. She was leaving. She had to fix the mess she made.

And Kristy was running for her coat. It wasn't too late. It wasn't!

Legolas was alone. She remembered it all too well…frustrated, disappointed, miserable. He was afraid and too strong to show it. He was angry and too ashamed, too proud to show that either. But that didn't mean he wasn't next to helpless out there. Why did she do it?

It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

Even as she ran to pull on her boots, she raced for a way. There was always a way. Always. The roll-away couch, he could sleep there. Clothes, more money…she'd take Corby, her boss, up on his offer. She'd do the accounting for the store.

Kristy tried to turn the corner, but she slipped on the carpet and crashed to the floor. She was banging feverishly on the elevator button before she could even get her coat on.

"Oh please, please still be there…" she whimpered. Kris rode all the way to the bottom. From there, her car started on the first try. Story? Well, he could be her cousin, or long lost brother, friend of a friend of a friend. Who cared? She'd get him back. That was all that mattered.

When the building came into view, she squealed into the 'disabled parking' slot and didn't care. She was shaking. Kris ran into the crowded door, aimed for the counter, and she struck every person on the way. There was a woman there, mid-twenties maybe. "Where is he?" she panted. "Where is he? A man, long blonde hair! He was tall, dressed in a gray-belted coat, boots. Have you seen him?"

"Long blonde hair, huh…kind of pale? Eyes like, wow, so deep." She smiled dreamily. "Oh yeah, I saw him."

"Well, where is he?" Kristy punched the countertop. The woman was infuriatingly calm. "What happened to him?"

"Well actually, I saw him leave here quite a few hours ago," she confessed. Then 'Amy' her name tag said, blew a fluff of hair back and smirked. "I've hung around a little to see if he comes back."

No. No, it couldn't be. She was too late. He was already gone? He's wandering the city alone! Legolas couldn't speak to anyone. He couldn't get a job. Oh, why didn't that man have the sense to stay here?

"Which way did he go?" Kristy ignored the protesting calls behind her, telling her to get back in line. "Right or left? Please, please tell me."

"Hm…right, I think." Amy shrugged, before shaking her head and waving Kristy on. "I don't know. Come on. Move along, lady. You've got a line behind you."

Kristy grimaced, before turning around and bursting back out the door. She looked back and forth. Right, huh? Well she'd go right. She'd search the entire city if she had to. If he crossed the river and made it to St. Paul, she'd find him there too.

And then, a thought struck her. The police…they would pick him up before he made it that far. He didn't have any identification. The army was posted on all the bridges at the river and the capitol. She should have thought of this hours ago, days ago!

What would they do with him?

Kristy wasn't willing to find out. She didn't care about the consequences anymore. She couldn't stand this terrible guilt. She wanted to get him back. To feed him. She wanted to talk to him and see his strange, blue-gray eyes peer at her with a cool depth she couldn't understand. Kristy wanted to know what Legolas tried to tell her, why he was sick and wandering.

Kris was walking determinedly back to her car. It was raining out, sleeting in icy curtains. Her mind was set on the car, speeding away, on finding him no matter what. But then…something broke that concentration. It crackled and snapped faintly through the dark. She managed to listen a moment. It was wrong for this temperature…thunder?

How could it be thundering? Construction maybe...

No. It was too dark out.

Kris froze, looking around. It wasn't thunder. Or construction. She couldn't see the sky anymore. She couldn't—Suddenly, there was a ripple, a shifting in the air. She felt it in the wind. It was charged and electrified, like before a storm. The cement shuddered under her feet. It rocked and trembled.

What the hell?

Was this what the news was talking about? Storms…earthquakes…why the national guard took matters in their own hands?

It didn't make sense!

The sound of rushing air grew to a crescendo somewhere in the building tops. Kristy dove to the street and covered her head, letting the asphalt shake and quiver like a leaf in the wind. It didn't crack or break under her, but the deep shudder was there and…and then gone?

Kristy looked up through her hands, soaking wet and shaking . Sleet poured from the skies and gushed down the gutters. It didn't take long for screams and the sound of honks to echo through the night. Lights-yellow, white, red-all through the city went out. Police sirens. Ambulance screams…

Legolas!

Kristy bolted to her feet, before scrambling with the car door and getting inside. Legolas was out there! He was somewhere in a panicking city of thousands where no one understood him. He could be hurt, injured. He could be killed.

Street after street passed. She searched the faces, every store-front. A few lights were still on, reserve power maybe. In the dark, headlights were everywhere. They were glaring off the wet streets. Bodies were melting into one…running, shouting, diving into buildings.

Damnit. It was so hard to see!

Brown heads, dark heads, red-heads…no one that was Legolas. The whole city was shutting down. How was it possible?

It was too late for panic. Panic wasn't enough. It wasn't the right word anyway. Terror, that was what made her search. She had to find him. It seemed like hours of near-miss collisions, honks. The traffic lights were out, even some of the street lamps. She thought she'd never find him.

And then…they were there.

It was a deserted back street, just a few miles from work. Kristy saw blue and red lights blinking. Police. They were shouting, surrounding people in hoods. They had knives. Suddenly, a familiar blonde head appeared between them and Kristy gasped.

"Legolas!" Kristy pulled over and scrambled into the passenger seat, throwing the door open. She didn't know what happened, or why police were grabbing down four men in the night…but Legolas shouldn't be here. They were in a scuffle. They couldn't see in the dark. Kristy switched her headlights off to keep it that way.

"Legolas, get in!" she shouted, flinging the door open. Three police were in the fight. But at her voice, they broke off a little. Legolas whirled around in surprise.

"Hey!" One of the cops shouted. "Get back."

Legolas glared almost as fiercely, which said something. She didn't have time to wonder why. "Legolas, get in the car, quick!"

She wanted him? Now she came after him? This damn woman was too much.

"You made your feelings very clear to me, Kristine," he snapped, fighting back when someone lunged for his arm. Legolas was backed in a corner. He looked around, panting, searching for escape. The police had arrived almost as soon as the storm did. He didn't have time to get far before they were on him.

Oh, Kristy didn't need a translator for that. She leaned over from the drivers' side, unable to believe he'd take the police over her. Did he want to get arrested? Didn't he know this wasn't the time to get involved with the law? Not when the city was terrified and panicking.

So was Kristy.

"You have to come with me." She hit the steering wheel in frustration. "Don't be stubborn now of all times!"

"I am not a puppy to be abandoned and picked up again!" he shouted at her. Legolas struggled harder and swore. "You don't own me."

"Legolas!" she fairly screamed. "I'm sorry for what I did. Okay?" she pleaded. "Come on. Get in the fucking car."

And there was a break. They weren't looking and their hands were full with the others. He didn't have a choice.

Legolas grimaced, before shoving through them and running to the curb. He fairly threw himself into the passenger seat, and Kristy slammed the door shut after him. Then, without even telling him to brace himself, she stomped on the gas and sped away.

"I said I was sorry, for God's sake," Kristy hissed as they swerved onto the highway. "I've been looking all over for you!"

Sweet Eru, they were moving so fast. Legolas grabbed his seat in shock, staring at the buildings in the night. They whipped past in a blur. This was what riding in the swarm of steal monsters was like? Why did he agree to this? His heart beat wildly in his ear. But whether it was from the storming lights that rocked the world or their incredible speed, he didn't know.

Kristy tried to glance over, concentrating on the road and slowing down, before fumbling with her seatbelt. "Are you all right?"

Legolas didn't answer.

She wanted to shout at him now, make him talk and make him understand. But he wasn't deaf. She motioned hard with her hands in an outward, circular motion. Legolas knew very well what she meant.

"I am uninjured," he growled.

And then, Kristy caught sight of his hands. She almost swerved into the ditch. "Oh my god, you're bleeding! Th-those men...were you fighting them?"

Legolas clenched his bloody fingers and snapped his arms closed, hiding his slashed side. "Do not even pretend to care for my well-being, Kristine. And why are you here at all?" he snapped, glaring fiercely at her.

The tires squealed in the rain. It pounded off the windshield in sprays and she panted, trying to keep control on the slick roads. God, he was fighting four men. Four. With knives. They turned onto an off-ramp that led home. Did this man have a penchant for trouble? Or did it just follow him around? It didn't matter. Somehow, she had a feeling he was swearing at her.

"Or did you forget something maybe?" Legolas pressed. "Like maybe a 'best wishes' on your way out?"

"Oh be quiet," she snapped, squinting through the dark.

She could barely even see, much less hear. Soon she had to slow down. People were pouring out of the buildings in swarms. Headlights were everywhere, glinting and reflecting off the rain. Moving bodies were everywhere and she almost hit them.

"And stop fighting with the door release! Oh," she laughed. It was terrified, and relieved and she sounded like a maniac. "Unless you want to get arrested again, that is. Brilliant move, by the way!"

Legolas fumed, staring out the window. They were crawling now, inching forward. Hands slammed on the hood and the windows, some trying to get inside. Legolas stared at their blurry faces in disbelief. Others just ran around them and pointed at the sky. Panic made him want to grab onto the car door, but he wouldn't.

He didn't cower in the storm. He wouldn't now.

And then there was a break. The steel beast crept a little faster.

It was a long time before Kristy talked again, and her pounding heartbeat subsided a little. They were on the highway again and the streets were clear of people.

"Are you hungry?"

Nothing but the hum of traffic outside answered. Nothing but the glow of the console. The city had some power here. Flashing streetlights lit his face.

"Have you eaten?" She looked over, and then again. She couldn't see more than his profile. He glared out the windshield, deadly silent. Oh, just answer! She was angry enough with herself, never mind him too.

Walking noisy, dark streets made Legolas like this. He was shocked at first. He understood that she wouldn't want this burden. But the longer he went, listening to chaos that hurt his ears, the more he didn't care that he was selfish. He felt like a vagabond, some worthless creature wandering the masses.

It was maddening, infuriating…and he was miserable. He couldn't stop thinking about what he remembered. He remembered trembling earth, the columns of light twisting from sky to earth. It was all too real, all too familiar. He couldn't understand, not yet, but they were crucial somehow. It was angering that he didn't know why.

Then, Kristy dug a candy bar out of the console and offered it to him.

Legolas politely declined by snorting and looking away. She was thinking about food? She thought he'd actually accept food from her?

Kris gripped the steering wheel. God. Why was he doing this now? They were fortunate to be alive! With her luck, he'd pass out from low blood sugar and she wouldn't be able to get him out of the car.

"Come on, Legolas." She pushed it into his lap. "Just eat."

"I want nothing from you."

"What's the matter with you?" she asked sharply. "I told you I was sorry. You can't even eat? I know you haven't, okay? The shelter said you left hours ago."

"I don't want your pity!" Legolas shot back. He didn't care that he was arguing with someone he couldn't even understand. "And I don't care for your change of heart either. I will find my way home with or without your help, Kristine. You made it veryclear this morning that it would be without."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Legolas." Kris pulled into the underground lot. Somehow, she'd managed to make it home without hitting anything. The sirens were still screaming, but they were faint outside the steel walls. She was shaking. Legolas was bleeding. There wasn't any time.

"Come on."

Legolas wasn't sure why he fought with the door release, got out, and slammed the door shut. He wondered even harder why he stalked after her to the 'moving box', where it would carry him up…up…all the way to the twenty-fifth floor. Kristine was here out of guilt. He shouldn't walk her floors or take her pathetic help.

But he did. He was shaking and couldn't stop himself from stalking after her. His nerves were like frayed wire. Legolas was too angry, cold and upset to think of a better option.

"Dammit." Kristy pushed wet hair out of her face. They stopped in front of the elevator and she poked the button.

Nothing.

No lights, no cheerful ding. Nothing. It meant twenty-five flights of stairs to climb. Of course. Legolas held his side, grimacing at the prospect. The garage seemed darker then outside and he just stared at the woman's back. Her head dropped.

"The power's out."

Legolas groaned.

. . . .

Fingers of orange and red firelight scratched at the walls. The faint light quivered here and there. Kristine's apartment was quiet and chilly. Only the heat of the fire lapped at the walls. It danced in Legolas' eyes, red on blue, like fire on a lake. It threw gentle, wavering shadows across the walls. Black and orange pulsed faintly over the carpet.

It was quieter now. He could still hear the honks and sirens outside, but they were distant and 25 flights down. Wind blew in a steady, hushed murmur against the walls. Legolas sat cross-legged at the fireplace, bare-chested and slowly feeling warmth tingle through his limbs. It warmed his ears and burned his face. The heat, the crackling flames and settling wood soothed his spirit.

It seemed like an eternity ago that he was standing in the rain…looking up at that ripped, torn sky. Was it really just a few hours? Legolas remembered the chaos, the fear. But it was like someone else lived it. He could think. He could reason. And now, he wasn't altogether sure if what he saw was real or not.

He stared into the flames, watching the firewood grow black and break, char white and turn to ash.

"Can I see your hand?"

Kris knelt down, fidgeting in his blurry peripheral vision. Legolas knew what she wanted. But he didn't move. He thought about refusing. But he didn't, somewhat reluctantly. The damn thing hurt. So he lifted his hand, palm up.

Legolas' hair was almost dry. His clothes hung near the fireplace. But the power was still out. He wore Reiner's pants. Kristine dabbed at his palm with a cotton swab. The peroxide stung and sizzled on his skin, but he ignored it. Her hands shook and she scrubbed the salt out of her eyes as she worked. She was a mess.

But he ignored that too.

A few minutes passed. "This…this should have stitches." Kristy sniffed and swallowed. "Um, I can't do it. And-and I think the emergency room will be full w-with the earthquake, and-and everything."

Legolas didn't answer.

So, she dropped her eyes and fell silent. The room was dark. Kristy scrunched her brows together, concentrating on his wounds.

Both Legolas' hands were slashed. A jagged cut raked across his ribs on one side. It was ugly and black. With a blood-soaked rag, an onion skin, and a slice of Aloe Vera plant, it had finally stopped bleeding enough to clean. She was terrified when it took an hour to stop it. But Legolas barely flinched.

It just upset her more. It was like he didn't feel. Like he wanted to show her just how silent he could be.

His mouth was a thin, tight line.

So Kris placed butterfly stitches where she could, strips of tape to keep the injuries from opening again. But when it was finished, when she couldn't fidget with him any longer, pretend to be busy no matter how hard she tried… she had nothing to do with her hands.

"The anti-biotic cream will m-make it feel better soon," she said. Kris looked painfully at the clean slice on the inside of his fingers, biting her lip. It looked like he caught a knife in his hand and it had been ripped away. The thought was sickening. It made her want to vomit.

But that wouldn't help.

Kris peeked up. Legolas was staring at the fire, empty, cold, the flames reflecting in his eyes. They were fathomless, shimmering like pools of moonlit water.

"Does it feel any better?" Her voice broke and she swallowed the lump in her throat. It hurt like the tears searing her eyes. She blinked them back furiously, and she looked…at her hands, the floor, anything. The guilt ate at her, burning and real like a fresh wound.

Again, Legolas didn't answer. He just clenched his fingers, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Legolas I…" The breath caught in her throat. In the morning, what happened might be on the news. The government would have an explanation. She'd have answers. But none of that mattered now. She rasped, "I-I didn't want this to happen."

He knew what she wanted. Kris wished he would say something…anything, to her. But Legolas wouldn't move. He wouldn't even look at her.

And suddenly, something shattered and Kristy said, "I'm sorry, Legolas." Tears broke her eyes and she said fiercely. "This…" she gestured around, "this is my fault. It's all my fault. Alright? I know."

Legolas swallowed, but he still didn't answer.

"I…I was just s-so scared." Keep it together. "I-I didn't know what else to do."

Kristy lifted her head, sniffing. She wanted him to look at her…say something, be angry, anything. But he didn't. It felt like a punishment. The quakes terrified her, the police, the fear and blackness. She felt alone and destitute. When he was shouting, when he was angry, it was better than this.

Now he was silent.

"I wantedto do what was best f-for both of us." Her voice splintered and she tried to stop. She'd tried for hours. When she was driving blind, taping his torn bleeding body back together. But now...she was slowly falling apart.

"No, that's not it. I did what was best for me. I was selfish and-and I didn't care. And I'm sorry." She shook her head, hiccupping so hard it hurt. She fidgeted with the carpet. "I'm sorry, Legolas."

The man was wet and knifed, stitched together with a goddamn first-aid kit. Who knew what happened to him out there?Those men? Four against one, it wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

Kristy looked up, searching. "I wish I could take it back. I didn't want this. I swear I didn't! I just-" Her voice abandoned her and she clapped a hand to her mouth, sobbing. She looked through blurry eyes at the blood. There was so, so much of it.His blood. "I'm just s-sorry."

Kristy dropped her head and cried.

And slowly...reluctantly, Legolas looked over.

Her shoulders were so small. Every time it looked like she mastered herself, she lost again. "The people, th-they were so scared!" she gasped, remembering. "I've never seen people look like that. Everyone was shouting and crying and-and-…I couldn't think. I couldn't find you! I couldn't breathe. I-"

Legolas just looked at her, unsure of how to respond.

Kristy's face was screwed up in misery. The tears were spilling down her face and she couldn't stand to look at him anymore. She couldn't take that silent, coldness in his eyes anymore. It hurt. He hated her. He thought she came after him because of guilt, to make herself feel better.

It wasn't true! She wanted him. She wanted him to trust her; she wanted him to tell her how he could be so lost. Even if she didn't understand, it didn't matter. Kristy wanted him back.

Legolas stared at her, feeling the heat of the fire on his face. She was hunched next to him and taking quick, jolting little sobs of misery. She was so upset. And here he was motionless. He did nothing. And again, he was the cause of her misery. This was exactly what angered him so! She didn't even know if she wanted to help him or not.

And here he was so in need of it. It was infuriating.

But he wasn't furious now. He was tired, exhausted to the point of numbness. Yes, he didn't want to be dependent. He wanted to get home, wherever it was. He wanted that feeling of familiarity. But…he was here now, and it was time he accepted it.

Kris sniffed and held herself in her arms. She wanted to go into her room and collapse there, but she didn't deserve that. He deserved to see her. Maybe then he would know how utterly, utterly sorry she was… She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.

Far below, streams of constant lights blurred back and forth and floodlights scanned the skies. Outside, but not in here The noise and chaos was gone. Wind rattled at the windowpanes. They were safe here, warm, as if sheltered in a shielding bubble. He realized he was silent then because he wanted to hurt her, just like she'd hurt him. He wanted her to know what it felt like.

And he'd done that.

Legolas watched her sob with a sinking feeling of regret. Seeing her cry didn't make him happy, or satisfied…or anything else. It made him feel empty and hollow. Legolas hesitated, feeling sorry for what happened to her, for what happened to him…for everything.

He carefully lifted a hand to touch her.

"Kristine..." Legolas said softly. He gently traced her face, caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. He did it slowly, reluctantly…unsure. But he was here to stay, at least for now. He knew that. There was no use feeling anger for the only other soul he had. He felt misery rippling off her in waves, and it made him more saddened than ever. "Come here." He whispered, and he pulled her closer.

"I'm sorry."

Legolas pressed his face into her damp hair and cradled her against his chest. And she wept harder. That was how Legolas found, unfortunately, that Kristine wasn't one of those lucky beauties who cried prettily. And as he carefully held her neck in his hands and pressed his cheek against the cool damp of her hair, Legolas smiled. He stroked it gently. She felt in his hands like a drowned mouse.

"You look terrible," Legolas said.

"W-what?"

It was satisfying to say what he wanted. No consequences. "You look dreadful, Kristine."

Kristy wiped her nose, sniffling and staring at the glitter of amusement in his dark eyes. Somehow, as fast as it came, all her feelings were sapped away in a small, empty hole. It left her feeling deflated.

"You look terrible, Kristine." He murmured softly, "…utterly terrible."

And as if she understood, she cried harder and he was glad. She needed to weep.

"You're picking on me. I know it," she hiccupped. "I know it!"

Legolas stared into the fire, letting her press herself against his chest. She was warm. Incredibly warm. He breathed it in, feeling it comfort and soothe him. The elf sighed. Her breathing shuddered and leveled out eventually. Kristy hugged him like a lifeline. It was what he felt from her that made the last of his anger, frustration, misery melt away. She refused to let go of him.

"I forgive you, Kristine."

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