Breaking the Broken

Three

At the Graves

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No amount of effort can make a naturally wicked man

Be turned into an honest one

However long you boil water,

It is impossible to make it burn like fire

Saskya Pandita

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A Wednesday morning with bright sunshine and chirping birds surrounded the young woman. A single tear dripped down her cheek, followed by another, then two more, as she stood in the shadows cast by the tombs. It had been one year, six months, four days, seven hours and fifty-seven minutes since she had lost him, and she noted sadly that the dull ache inside her was still present.

With a wry little smile, she acknowledged the fact that this headstone probably cost more than her entire house, and losing the boy beneath it had cost her even more. She had visited this exactly spot every day for a long time, and it never got any easier. Her long, floral print skirt swished around her calves, and she tugged the sleeves of her pastel cardigan down over her hands, twisting it mercilessly between her clenched fists. She bit down hard on her lip to prevent the tears from bursting forward from their reservoir inside.

SEBASTIAN R. VALMONT

Adored Son, Beloved Brother

There were dates on the glossy stone too, of course, but the inscription had always captivated Annette. Adored son. Sebastian had never really said much about his parents, but she imagined that they were rather removed from the picture. However, that wasn't the part that really got to her. Beloved brother. It made Annette wonder if there were some more Valmonts out wandering the streets, God help New York, because from what she had read about Kathryn, they had a lot to say about each other, but it was far from 'beloved'.

Kathryn.

That stupid, evil wench. It was her fault Sebastian was gone, really, it was. And with all of her good deeds, charity work and Church bake sales, Annette had never been more proud of her work than as she watched a tear drip down the porcelain cheek of Kathryn Merteuil as she read the journal that would end her empire.

Annette read the journal many, many times. She practically had it memorized. Reading it the first time broke her heart. No, more accurately, it felt like someone had reached down her throat, yanked out her heart, crushed it with power tools, swept up the gooey pieces, and rubbed them in her face. However, the religious blonde found a strange, sick fascination with it all. It was like a car crash, where if you were watching it, you couldn't look anywhere else, no matter how much you wanted to. Though it killed her, Annette read through Sebastian's words many a time, and slowly, it stopped being so painful. In fact, she began to see the journal as her trophy. This man, so infamous in his ways, had been changed. He had changed for her.

Annette took that as reassurance that no matter how many times it states in his handwriting, in his (formerly) private journal that he was in love with Kathryn, that he really loved her. It was a very gratifying feeling, but did nothing to alleviate the grief.

At first, she thought that it was some sort of cruel joke. She kept expecting him to jump out at her, and laugh, to laugh like he did that day in the car. She kept expecting to wake up with him beside her. More than once, she had woken up smiling, reaching out to him, only for Sebastian to vanish before her eyes as her hand fell through the air onto a cold spot on her white sheets.

Tears blurring her eyes, the blonde glanced back up at the tombstone. What really killed her were the dates underneath the name. Not that there was anything wrong with having a birthday. But it killed her that Sebastian Valmont was the man she fell in love with, the man she gave her virginity to, and she didn't know his. She couldn't quite face the possibility that maybe she never knew him at all.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Annette checked the time on her watch. She then realized that she had to leave right then, if she wanted to be on time for the charity function she promised her daddy she would attend.

"Goodnight Sebastian. I'll see you tomorrow," she whispered, forcing herself to walk away.

It is a fascinating coincidence, time. Because if Annette had had more of it, she wouldn't have left so quickly. If she hadn't left in such a rush, maybe she would've heard the click-clack of women's high heels on the pavement. Maybe she would've been inclined to turn around. If she had, she would've seen an exquisitely beautiful brunette with dark sunglasses and a dusky green dress. And maybe she would've seen that the woman wasn't alone. Maybe...

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"I still don't get what the fuck we're doing here, Valmont," her annoyed voice rang through the now unoccupied cemetery. He smiled fondly at her, but she missed his gaze. Glancing around, Kathryn Merteuil saw that the nearest person was an elderly gentleman leaning over a grave, placing a single rose on a tombstone, crying softly in the distance. Had she been the sentimental type, she would've been touched by this display of love, unchanged by death. Too bad she wasn't, and so the only thing currently touching her was the hand of Sebastian Valmont. He had helped her out of the car, and had been very reluctant to let go of her since. Kathryn kept up her usual cool façade, but inside, she had no idea what she would do if she had to let go of him again.

"I don't know. It is my grave. I thought it might hold some sentimental value to you," he deadpanned, a small smirk curving the edges of his pouty lips. Unconsciously, her expression changed to a similar one.

"Well, seeing as you aren't buried here, I think all ties I have to the place are null and void," Kathryn said, turning to walk away, tugging Sebastian behind her. He barely moved.

"Beloved brother…" he mused, and she stopped in her tracks, waiting for that inevitable question. The question she thought she'd never have to answer. Not to him. Not ever. Fifteen or so month's worth of unimaginable pain began to gather inside of her until the pressure of the memories threatened to force their way out through her tear ducts. Kathryn had never liked to cry. It was a sign of weakness, a vulnerability. She wasn't particularly interested in being vulnerable, not even in front of Sebastian.

"What about it?" she jumped the gun, stealing the thunder he was packing in the question that was to come. He glared slightly. Valmont was always a drama queen.

"Interesting choice of words," Sebastian stated lightly.

"Well, it was either that or 'Exceedingly Hormonal, Arrogant Teen Who Boned Half of New York, May He Rest In Peace. While the second one was more fitting, it was also more expensive. You know how it is," Kathryn said dryly.

Sebastian gave a little half-smile in response. Kathryn knew better. She could read the disappointment in his eyes. Her heart went out to him, but her pride stood in the way of her saying anything that may have actually been consoling. Instead, she offered this.

"Love is for weak people, Sebastian. We've always said that."

His head shot up from where it had been looking down, examining his shoes. "Of course. I know. I just thought, maybe—you know, never mind. I was just wondering."

Minutes crawled by in silence, Kathryn unconsciously gripping the hand of her 'beloved' stepbrother as she examined the grave that was supposedly his. She hadn't really had the opportunity to visit, being locked away in the Methadone Clinic, courtesy of the pesky Seventeen magazine virgin. As her thoughts stumbled across Annette, Kathryn's eyes widened as determination shot through her veins. The manipulative beauty had forgotten about her plan, in light of current family issues (namely, her stepbrother coming back from the dead), but now that she remembered…

But Kathryn knew that there was something she had to say to Sebastian before she could do anything else. Something that would elicit a true smile from him, that would hopefully reach him, let him know deep down that she did care, without her actually having to lower herself to expressing it. She squeezed his fingers to get his attention. His intense blue gaze locked onto her, and she felt nostalgic of all the times where she had commanded his complete and totally attention. Thousands of parties came to mind, especially her delicious victory over her cousin Cassidy. Just thinking about it brought a smile to the young woman's face. Embarrassing as it would be to admit it, should her stepbrother be interested in someone else, it wasn't only Kathryn's eyes that were green.

"You're not a toy, Sebastian."

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Author's Notes

Hey guys! Thank you for your completely awesome comments on last chapter. They really mean a lot to me. As for why I'm updating again, this story has currently hijacked my train of thought lol, so I figured I might as well run with it for now. Also, hate to say it, but I'm becoming a comment whore. I just love them. Hahaha.

I just realized that I didn't actually tell you guys when this story was set. Some of you probably figured it out, but I thought I'd just let you know for sure:

The events of Cruel Intentions did happen. This is one and a half years after that.

The events of Cruel Intentions 3 did not happen yet. They all do go to the school, as sophomores, but Cassidy hasn't really met Patrick, and Patrick and Jason haven't started their games…yet.

Anyway, so thanks for reading, and please review!

Xo Sam