To yellow 14: That is most definitely on the table. Although would that alone be enough to make up for the past?
To Anon: If I used a fly-on-the-wall/narrator POV, that is definitely how that chapter would have ended!
To Butterfly: That could have gone better.
To StarDaPanda225: Just a little bit :D
Bri's eyes took on a hard set as she stormed off through the Manor tracing the path to the Hero Study that Amelie had shown her after breakfast, Felix's words echoing in her ears. "It's all my fault," he had said. He had allowed the Ripper to escape, and it was only after that incident that the Ripper had escalated! That was why he had been free to attack her last night! She glowered at the floor and almost walked headlong into the door of the study before she remembered to scan her thumb. To think that she sometimes looked back on the day she had first met the Hound fondly! Despite the poor circumstances of their initial meetings, he had grown on her and become only her second real friend since arriving in London. The first person in whom she had ever felt safe confiding her father's misdeeds – something she hadn't even told Anne about yet. But if she had known then what she knew now, maybe she would have punched him across the Thames! Maybe she would have dropped him in the river! Maybe she would not have agreed to this stupid partnership with the dumbass who had allowed a rapist go free.
The portal whirred to life and she jumped through just as the door behind her burst open. She was through the portal before he could catch her, and tossed her damaged bracelet carelessly on the workbench before throwing the workshop door open and practically running outside. She could hear Felix's footsteps behind her as he closed the workshop door and hurried to catch up.
"Maiden! Wait!"
"I don't want to hear it, Mutt!" she shouted without turning around or slacking her pace.
"Let me explain!" he begged, an anxious edge to his voice.
"How can you possibly explain away that it's your fault that the Ripper has been on the loose for the last two months?" she demanded, her voice dropping to an ominous level. "Are you going to say I don't understand? That I didn't hear correctly? Because I know what I heard."
"No," he answered heavily. "You heard right. I could have stopped him. I know I made a mistake! I know it's my fault! I'm sorry!"
"I don't care!" She clenched her fists and continued walking, despite the footsteps behind her. "Do you have any idea what I went through last night!? Do you have any idea what I felt – the helplessness, the terror, the pain? Do you have any idea what I begged him to do just to make it stop!? I told him to just kill me already! Do you know what that feels like? And now I find out you had a chance to stop it weeks ago and you didn't! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I know!" Felix confessed, a hitch in his voice. "I should have stopped him right then. I should have punched his head off his neck, thrown it in the Thames, and held it down until the bubbles stopped. And I didn't. Because I was an ass. But I'm not the same guy who made that mistake anymore! I would never allow him to hurt someone else again! I would never let someone hurt you again! And I swear to you, I will do everything I possibly can to stop him!"
"Do you think that matters!?" she demanded, finally turning around and glaring at him, one finger pointed accusingly at his face. He stared back wide-eyed, hands in front of his chest, palms facing her, his lower lip trembling. "I don't care that you're 'different' now! I don't care that you want to stop him now! None of that changes last night! None of that changes what he did – what he has done! Not just to me, but to all the women he's killed since then. So right now, I never want to see you again. Now I'm going home, and don't you dare follow me!" She turned around and stalked away, fists trembling at her sides.
"As you wish, Iron Maiden," Felix whispered behind her.
The footsteps behind her faded away as Bri turned left onto the Strand and made her way down the three blocks to her apartment building, pushed against the crowd on the sidewalk, most of whom were probably on their way to the pubs for lunch. She could feel eyes on her from behind, but when she turned around and looked no one was watching her. The rooftops appeared deserted. The crowds on the street paid her no mind. Even after watching for several minutes, nothing. Finally she stopped in front of the apartment building, withdrew the keys from her new jeans, and let herself in. The apartment was empty and silent. For the first time since she had woken up that morning, she was truly alone. Barkk had been there when she woke up; Amelie had sat with her through breakfast and helped her change the bandages afterward. When she had gone down to the sitting room, she had been looking for their company. But now? She was on her own. The last time that had been the case, the Ripper had appeared.
Bri tossed her keys in the dish on the counter next to Anne's potted fern, walked through the living room and down the hallway to her bedroom, and flopped down on the bed. Then the tears finally started flowing freely.
She could have died – she should have died in that bleak alley last night! She gave up, stopped struggling against him! She was a superhero, and she had been ready to just give in and let him do what he was going to do and then murder her, just to make the pain stop. In that moment she had started to check out, to give in to the pain and just pray that her end would come quickly. How could she pretend to be a superhero now? She had failed to stop her father and his partner in August; she had failed to stop the Ripper – or even to protect herself from being attacked – last night. Hell, she had even put herself in that position, walking alone late at night! And she hadn't survived because she was good or strong or determined; she had survived because she had been lucky.
The tears fell fast and furious. Snot pooled in the bedcover directly below her nose. She could still smell the Ripper's rank breath invading her nostrils. She could still see his wild hair blowing in the breeze, hear his raspy voice in her ears. She would probably still be able to hear him perfectly clearly in sixty or seventy years, lying on her deathbed. She might be haunted by his face forever. That smell would be burned into her memory, heedless of the passage of time.
"It's all my fault," the Hound had said. But it really wasn't, was it? Sure, she had thought he was an arrogant, self-absorbed jackass when they first met. Yes, he had been an arrogant, self-absorbed asshole then. But in the privacy of her own mind she could admit that he was different now than he had been just two months ago. He cared about others – about her – in a way that he hadn't then. Maybe he had had an opportunity to arrest the Ripper and had passed on it; that didn't mean he was directly responsible for her near-murder last night. He was just the closest target for her anger.
Not that she would ever tell him that.
As her sobs finally quieted, the apartment lock clicked and the door slid open. "Bri?" Anne's voice drifted down the hall from the entryway. "Are you here, girl?" Jingling. A muttered, "Her keys are here…"
Bri sniffled.
Footsteps just outside her door. "Bri!" The bed sagged slightly as Anne sat down next to her. "Gods, girl, you scared me to death!" Gentle fingers touched the edge of the bandage over her head before they were immediately withdrawn. "But what happened here?" Bri rolled over to find Anne staring down at her worried. Anne's eyes widened and she gasped, examining Bri's face closely before looking lower at the tops of the bandages around her torso left visible by her blouse's neckline. She cocked her head in bewilderment. "You're a complete haymes! What happened!?"
Bri shook her head and threw her arms around Anne's waist in a tight hug. Anne awkwardly patted her on the back, and Bri started to relax.
"You had me worried sick!" Anne commented. "You weren't back last night – okay, not that unusual – but this morning your door was open and it didn't look like you'd come back at all… And with the Ripper on the loose, I thought – well." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I tried calling, but you weren't answering. So I went down to the station to report you missing, but the bloody peelers wouldn't even give me the time of day – said they couldn't do anything without 'proof', and my say-so wasn't enough for them. I told them I knew you wouldn't just run off without something being wrong, but they said you probably just met some guy and went back to his place! How thick could they be! I told them I was worried the Ripper had gotten you–" Bri's breath hitched "–but they said that couldn't be the case: the Ripper killed another girl last night. Mary Jane Wilkins who lives over at Stamford Street, can you believe it?"
"Anne," Bri interrupted softly. Her voice trembled. Anne fell silent instantly. "He did attack me last night."
"Who did?"
Bri looked up at her, her eyes wide, her lower lip quivering. "Who do you think?"
Anne gasped and covered her mouth with both hands, staring at Bri in horror. "Tell me you're codding me!"
Bri shook her head and carefully peeled the bandage off her cheek, revealing the scabbed-over bite mark the Ripper had left behind. "I'm absolutely serious."
Anne hugged her tight. "Oh, my god! How did you survive!?"
She shrugged and relaxed into the embrace. "I… fought back." She closed her eyes. "He was so strong… I didn't think I would survive. I thought he was going to kill me! I just–"
"Hey! Shhh…" Anne soothed, rubbing circles in her back. "You're alive, and that's the important thing."
Is it really? Bri scoffed, though she didn't say anything aloud. It would only worry her.
"But where have you been all this time?" Anne leaned back to examine her more critically. "And what are you wearing?"
Bri shrugged, not bothering to look down at the mottled brown blouse she had selected from the pile in the bedroom at the Manor after showering. At the time she had picked it because the colour scheme reminded her of her partner, who had been there when she needed him last night; now she wished she had chosen anything else. "A friend found me after–after it happened," she explained quietly. "They brought me home and patched me up. That's where the clothes came from, too." She sighed. "I'm sorry for not calling–especially with how on edge we've all been lately."
"And I think it's only going to get worse after last night." Anne exhaled heavily.
Bri tensed. "Mary Jane was the other victim last night?"
"They found her this morning," Anne confirmed. "The police wouldn't tell me anything about it except her name. But it's been all over ResiLife. Apparently she was just on her way back to the house when it happened. They're organizing a vigil for her later today – both campuses are invited."
"I don't–" Bri swallowed, biting back a sob.
Anne rubbed her back comfortingly. "You don't have to go."
"I don't want to be alone…" Bri whispered, clenching her eyes shut.
"I won't leave you alone," Anne assured her. She squeezed her tightly. "I'm just glad you're alive."
