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BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Jesus Christ!" George shot straight up, hair wild and eyes wide. "What the hell?!"

He leapt out of bed and stormed down the corridor. He approached the door of Lennie's room and banged furiously on it with his fist.

"Lennie!"

"What you want, George?"

"What in God's name are ya doin' in there?! It's half midnight!"

"Nothin'!"

"Lennie, do ya want to be smacked or punched?"

"Uhhh…"

"Open the door!"

"No!"

"Lennie! OPEN THE DOOR!"

"I can't, George!"

"Why not?"

"It's a surprise!"

George sighed and leaned against the frame. He ran a hand over his tired face and through his brown hair. "Lennie…" he murmured, trying not to get angry, "do ya want to tend them goddamn rabbits or not?"

The door clicked and swung open. George quickly hurried in. Lennie was crouched against the window, placing planks of wood over it, and nailing them on poorly with a hammer.

"Lennie, what are ya doin'? Why are ya placin' them pieces of wood over ya window?"

"To protect me from the bad guys."

"What bad guys?"

"The Allies."

George's face softened. He went over and placed a hand on Lennie's shoulder. "Ya don't to do that, Lennie," he said. "They ain't gonna hurt ya while I'm here."

"But ya hardly ain't here, George."

"Yes I am. I'm always here. Ya too dangerous to be left on ya own all the time. Ya like a big baby."

"But at school. They always get to me before ya can stop 'em from hurtin' me."

"Well, I ain't goin' anywhere, Lennie. I'm gonna keep more of an eye on ya from now on."

Lennie's face broke into a great big smile, and he wriggled on his knees happily. "'Cause I got you to look after me, but you got me to look after you!"

"Yeah…"

"And we'll get rabbits, won't we?"

"Sure we will."

"And live off the fatta the lan'! Right George?"

"Shh. Yeah, we will, but it's really late now, Lennie. We should go back to bed now. O.K?"

Lennie nodded again, but then he clutched George anxiously. "George?"

George turned his head towards him. "Yeah?"

"You ain't mad at me, are ya? I still get to tend the rabbits, don't I?"

"I ain't mad, Lennie. You still get to tend them rabbits."

Lennie smiled again.

"C'mon, back to bed."

Lennie clutched at George's arm again. "George…"

"Yeah Lennie?"

"I'm scared…"

George knelt in front of him, so that they were at the same eye level, and patted his shoulder reassuringly. "There ain't no reason to be scared. You're safe here."

Lennie's lower lip trembled. "I don't wanna be on my own in here."

"Then sleep on the floor with me in my room."

Lennie's face brightened. "Really?!"

"Yeah… C'mon."

Lennie clambered to his feet with his big bear paws. He grabbed George's arm. "Tell me how it's gonna be. Please. C'mon, George, please!"

"Awright. But git to bed now! C'mon! I'm tired!"

Lennie nodded. He headed towards his door, but turned back round to grab his large, adult-sized duvet and his brown, fluffy, plush-toy rabbit from his babyhood. He couldn't sleep without it.

George shook his head, amused, and started to follow him when the door slammed open before they could.

"What in God's name are you boys doin' up at this time of night?!" she hissed.

"Sleepover, Aunt Clara!" Lennie grinned. "I'm sleepin' in George's room tonight 'cause I don't want them mean boys to get me again. George is my friend! George will protect me!"

She shook her head at her nephew. "Fine. Just go to bed!"

George grabbed Lennie and pulled him by the arm down the corridor and into his room.

"Set down, Lennie, and go to sleep," George sighed. "And I'll tell ya 'bout them rabbits."

Lennie grinned again, placed his duvet on the floor- along with his pillow- and snuggled underneath it with his toy. As George sat down beside him, and got underneath his duvet on the floor- he liked sleeping on the floor now- Lennie pulled him closer so he could hear his favourite story again.

"Go on, George!" he urged. "Tell again!"

"O.K, O.K. Guys like us, that work on-"

There was a sudden flash of lightning in the sky, a rumble of thunder, and Lennie yelped and buried his face into George's chest- shaking.

"Lennie- it's jes' a strike of lightnin' for God's sake! Don't be such a baby!"

"I don't like it, George! I'm scared!"

George opened his mouth to chastise him again, when he looked down at the quivering wreck that was Lennie. His face softened, and he slowly wrapped an arm around him to hold him close, and rocked him back and forth gently to calm him- like a parent would do to their terrified child.

Lennie whimpered like a dog.

"Hey… It's O.K!" George laughed. "It's just bad weather, Lennie! You're safe with me!"

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"When will we get the rabbits?"

"Soon, Lennie, soon."

"And I get to tend them?"

"And you get to tend them."

Lennie giggled with happiness. "And we'll be together, won't we George?"

"Yeah. Me an' you, Lennie. Me an' you."

"… I love you, George."

"I love you too, Lennie."

"I got you and you got me."

"Yeah… Let's settle down now and sleep."

Lennie nodded, and settled down underneath his duvet. In one hand his clutched his toy rabbit, and in his other hand- George's arm. He moved up closer to George and buried his face in his side- nuzzling it gently and happily.

"G'night, George."

"G'night, Lennie."

The two closed their eyes, Lennie pressed up close to George, George with an arm wrapped protectively over him- and Lennie smiled. He looked up at George-whose eyes were closed- and thought for a moment before propping himself up on his elbow so that he could look down at him. He leant forward, to the point that he was inches away from his face, bent down, and pressed his lips to George's check. George's eyes shot open, wide, and his mouth was pressed in a thin line- face pale.

Lennie gave him a smile that seemed to say, "I know," and snuggled back down under the duvet again- closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

George looked up at the ceiling, stunned. He lay like that for a few minutes that seemed to last for an hour, before he looked over at Lennie- who was now fast asleep.

George placed a warm hand on Lennie's head, before placing it onto his own cheek, slightly damp from nerves and the touch of someone's lips, and looked up at the ceiling again.

A small smile slowly etched itself onto his face…

"I'm afraid to tell you that your son is dead."

"…What? What did you just say? My boy is d-dead?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry."

"But… How?!"

"He- he was crushed."

"What about Clarence? George, Duke of Clarence?"

"He's in a critical condition. Your other son, Richard, is also dead."

"HOW?"

"He was murdered, along with Prince Hal, by Lancastrians who were bloodthirsty for vengeance over the attempted murder of Edouard of Lancaster."

York held his head in his hands. "My boys…" he murmured. "My sweet boys…"

His head shot up. "Where is Edmund? Earl of Rutland? Where is he?"

"He has been away for his safety…"

York let out a wail.

William Stanley held out a hand. "Come York…" he urged. "Come see your boys."

York glared at him. "Why should I trust you, Stanley?" he growled. "You turncoat."

"My brother's son in law, Henry, is in danger too- as is Harry. We need to get them to safety with your boy. We need you to come and see Ned and Richard- help us identify their bodies."

York let out an anguished choke.

"They need to be identified."

He held out his hand again, coaxingly.

"Come York. Come see your two boys…"

Henry Tudor shot up as he was dragged out of bed. Kicking and screaming, he was forced into a small room, where two hooded men stood waiting. Henry's eyes widened as they came towards him, swords in their hands.

Henry's eyes narrowed.

"You…"

The sword rose.

Henry closed his eyes.

The sword fell.

Prince Hal's body was dragged along the cold pavement, blood pouring out of his wounds and his open mouth. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted and bloody.

His body was dragged along towards a river.

The body was kicked in.

Richard hung from the gallows like a pig ready for slaughter. His eyes were closed, his mouth partially open- his hair torn and bloody.

They chopped him down.

And they cut him open.

Harry knelt at prayer, his hands clasped together in fervent prayer.

Two men came up behind him.

One raised a sword.

Harry turned.

The sword fell.

One by one, the girls were rounded up and raped.

Then their throats were cut.

Thor's body was dragged down a similar street to Hal's.

They dragged it towards a block.

The head was placed on the block.

And the head was chopped off with a blunt axe.

Ned was butchered.

Clarence drowned.

Thor beheaded.

Richard mutilated.

Harry stabbed.

Tudor clubbed to death.

The girls raped and their throats cut.

Hal drowned, chopped up and buried.

The others simply vanished, never heard from again- their souls trapped forever in Hellheim.

And only Loki remained alive…

Only Loki.

But then they came for him.

And there was no one left to save him.

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH HH!"

Loki's eyes shot open, his hands out in front of him. From his hands came a beam of light, which surged forward and upwards into the room and night sky. It surged through the roof and doors and lit up the entire area.

"THOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRR! HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Loki! Open your eyes!"

"My eyes are open!"

"No they're not! Open your eyes!"

"They're open!"

"Loki, open your eyes!"

Loki closed his eyes instead, and through that, his eyes 'opened'. Through the darkness, he could see his mother and father standing over him.

"There you are!"

"Now your eyes are open!"

How could his eyes be open when they were closed? Was this reality? Or was this a dream?

"Loki, you have to save them!"

"Save who?"

"The souls!"

"The what?"

"The souls you saw dying!"

"But they're not dead. Thor's not dead!"

"There is a dark force acting against us, Loki. A dream state force. Making us unsure of which is reality and which is dreams."

"Then how do I know if this is a dream?"

A dark voice smoothly answered from the darkness.

"My, aren't you clever?..."

Then Loki's eyes were forced open. And he saw whom the voice belonged to.

"I must admit, it HAS been fun meddling with your mind, Trickster. I shall do it again, sometime. Or maybe now…"

It was himself.

"Tell me, Trickster, what is it like to lose a friend through our own actions? Painful?"

Loki was slammed down a dark hole, where he landed with his hands behind his back, and his eyes blindfolded. He struggled to stand.

"This is where you chose your path, Trickster. Good or evil?"

"Who are you?" Loki called out into the dark.

"I am you," it replied, "and everything you stand for and are."

"I am not you!" Loki cried out.

"You are. You are the future. You are the murderer of so many innocents. You are death's incarnate."

"You lie!"

"You lie, Trickster. You are the God of Lies and Chaos and Evil!"

"Where is my brother?"

"Why, where you placed him yourself, Trickster. In Hellheim!"

"No! He is alive!"

"Who is to say who's alive and who's dead? Maybe you are dead, Trickster, and maybe Thor is not. Who's to say that this is reality?"

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Make you chose your path, Trickster."

"Where is Sigyn?"

"Do you want to see? Open your eyes."

"But my eyes are blindfolded."

"Open them."

Loki opened his eyes. The blindfold disappeared, and Loki's eyes were open to the dark. Something shot through his head. He staggered back.

"Look into the pool," the voice commanded.

Loki did.

A hand suddenly reached out and grabbed Loki by the collar. It pulled him in with a tug.

There was a grin on the surface of the water.

"Dream or reality?" the voice mused. "Wake up or sleep? Life or death? It's up to you now… Laufeyson- to save those who you killed."

"But I am no killer," a quieter voice whispered, "and I never will be."

"We'll see," the main voice answered back. "We'll see…."