It was raining when you darted into your home. Even with your umbrella, you'd still managed to get soaking wet. With a huff, you slid the lock and leaned against the door.

What a day.

You'd gone to two signing events, managed to forget to do your groceries, and it started pouring between the house and your car.

"Well… It's done for now." You'd run a hand through your hair, getting up from the door and making your way into your kitchen. Your cats, Meatball and Refrigerator, needed to be fed.

As you grabbed the cans of wet food from the cabinet, something caught your eye. Something… Something that wasn't a cat had moved in your living room.

Your heart jumped into your throat; your neighbor was home and had your spare key, but she was sweet as sugar and wouldn't enter the home except to feed the cats.

Had she forgotten to lock it?

No, you'd needed your keys to get the door open.

So… That didn't explain who it was.

You set the cans onto the countertop with a soft clink, grabbing a knife from the block of utensils before easing your way into the room. Your eyes scanned the room. TV, untouched. Coffee table, untouched. Hell, your laptop was on the sofa where you'd left it last night, and your Dive Gear was how you'd left it. All seemed normal. Meatball was lounging on the back of the couch, Refrigerator was curled up at the top of the cat tree… Nothing was amiss.

And yet something felt Wrong.

"… Meatball, did you move the curtain?" Meatball looked at you, offering no answers. Refrigerator was asleep, so it couldn't have been him. The curtains rustled in a gentle breeze, window open slightly to let some fresh air into your home while you were gone.

You toed towards the window, the dark of the room causing shivers to go up your spine.

You reached the window, knife in hand, and—

And nothing.

You shut the window, latching it shut before patting Meatball's head.

"You'd tell me if someone was here, right Meatball?"

You got a meow in response, Meatball pressing his head into the palm of your hand.

With a heavy sigh, you head back into the kitchen and put your knife back in the knife block. Maybe your work was catching up to you, after all… It's what you got for writing horror romance, after all.

"God, I'm going crazy…" You chuckled, going back to the canned cat food. "Maybe Alex was right; writing these books can't be good for me."

The soft squeak of a shoe on the kitchen floor was your only warning.

He forced you against the countertop, one arm going around your throat in a chokehold and the other going to grab your boob. You let out a strangled scream—it was shockingly loud, considering his arm was around your neck—and tried to fight back. Elbows into his ribs, hands trying to claw his eyes out, anything.

But you weren't that strong.

He sank his teeth into your ear, another scream tearing from your throat. Your hands turned to his arm, pinching the skin between his thumb and forefinger hard enough to draw blood.

He let out a yelp, tearing a chunk of your ear off as he released you, only to slam you into the floor.

You hit your head on the counter top on the way down, vision going blurry and fuzzy.

You were on your stomach, he was on your back.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind you.

Slammed his free hand into your head for good measure, blood pooling under your nose and mouth.

"You're too pretty to be writing horror stories…" He mused, combing a hand through your bloodied locks. "Let me give you something to write about, hmm? Something to remember me by."

His hand went to your waistband—

Hand Waistband No No No Hand Shoulder-

You sank your teeth into something, the hand on your shoulder removing itself once your jaws released, copper on your tongue. You pressed your back into something hard, something firm and sturdy.

Safe.

Touch, taste, smell—you were awake.

You rubbed your eyes, looking around the room in a panic as you scrambled to press yourself into your headboard. Not Home. Not Old Home. Not Him.

You focused on the people surrounding your bed, blinking to force yourself to focus.

Albedo, clutching a bloody wrist with tears in her delicate eyes.

Momonga, glowing green as his red pupils flickered between you and Albedo.

Sebas, already removing his gloves to apply pressure to the wound.

Demiurge, calm smugness replaced with blatant shock.

Through the door, you could make out the heads of Aura and Mare, Cocytus and Shalltear.

Were you on display like an animal? A monster?

Was this how you would lose them all?

You were really, truly, too tired for this.

Sound seemed fuzzy, distorted. You knew the others were talking, could see their mouths move; yet, you weren't hearing. It was like you were watching people talk through a bus window, or like trying to talk underwater to tell the elephants on land that you loved them.

Put simply, it didn't compute.

You put your head in your hands, paws clawing ever so slightly at your eyes. Guilt welled up inside of you, boiling your self-loathing and panic into an inferno.

Guilt dripped from your hands and into your lap, coiling in your gut like a cat prepping a bed. Familiar, comforting. It was clear, with a hint of red; you clawed to hard, it seemed.

You deserved it, though.

Gentle hands touched your shoulders.

You did not flinch, but you wanted to.

A soft, whimpering wail managed to pierce the veil and stabbed into your soul.

Who was that hurt? Who sounded so… So broken?

Had you hurt Albedo that badly? Damaged her happiness, her joy, by causing her pain?

The wail increased in volume, but only slightly.

Skeletal hands grasped at your paws.

"—ara, Zara please—"

The wailing…

The wailing was coming from you.

You freed your paws from your eyes, looking up at the people surrounding you. Your vision was blurry, but you could still see some things.

Momonga looked as genuinely worried as he could, even with his continual green glowing. Albedo looked like she was about to burst into tears; she already had a stray tear trickling down her cheek. Demiurge stood next to Sebas, had placed his hand atop Sebas's one on your shoulder.

In a room full of people who cared about you, more than your own family, you were alone.

Truly alone.

You closed your mouth, forcibly silencing your wail. You didn't deserve their pity, their love, their anything.

Hurting Albedo was proof of that.

You freed a paw from Momonga's hands, reaching gently for her. You couldn't speak—if you opened your mouth, you were sure you'd start wailing again—but you had to apologize.

You'd bitten her, for Christ's sake.

She should hate you after that.

But you knew she wouldn't.

Hesitantly—god, it hurt to watch—she placed her unharmed hand into your own. You didn't know how to express your guilt, your sorrow, your shame; but you had to tell her you hadn't meant to hurt her.

Your eyes welled with tears, ones you couldn't blink away. You pressed your forehead into her undamaged hand, a faint whimper piercing the silence of the room.

This was your fault.

"My apologies for calling you all here on short notice." Her beloved spoke softly, a breath of fresh air for her whirring mind. "I felt that this meeting was… important."

Albedo nodded, casting a glance behind her to her lovely's living quarters; Cocytus simply couldn't fit into your bedroom, and as such remained out in your living room. Shalltear stood next to him, concern plastered on her delicate cheeks. Mare and Aura stayed with him; to keep him company or to keep Shalltear away from her, she didn't know. Demiurge, Sebas, Lord Momonga, and herself were in the room.

Momonga paused, looking towards the prone figure in the center; Abledo looked as well. Her beloved, Lady Zara, nestled under a particularly soft-looking blanket. Zara's soft face, framed by pillows and blankets, ears relaxed and content. It made her heart soar, seeing her beloved so content and relaxed.

Which posed the question: why were they meeting here, especially if Lady Zara was sleeping? … Did something happen to her beloved?

Guilt coiled in her stomach, snaked its venom into her heart. If something had happened to her Lady Zara… Then it was her fault

"I am not sure what Zara may have told any of you," Albedo snapped out of her thoughts, focusing on her beloved. "But she had… some sort of panic attack no more than half an hour ago." She flinched; it was her fault. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the other guardians having similar reactions. She caught Shalltear's eye, nodding slightly to her.

It was their fault.

Somehow, they'd have to make it right.

Lord Momonga continued, pretending to be oblivious to their reactions.

"I am aware of what may have been the cause of it. I am sure that, regardless of what may have triggered it, that it is not what many of you may believe. If I am right, then it… isn't something she would like me discussing."

"My Lord…" Demiurge spoke softly, concern overriding his voice; it was a breach of is normal façade, but she found she didn't care. "Is there anything we can do about this?"

She found yourself, along with the others, nodding in agreement. Your beloveds shouldn't be in pain, it was her duty to keep them safe and happy.

And she'd already failed.

"That, I do not know. It's why I called you all here. Zara is… Touchy, per se, when it comes to this particular issue. While I won't make any decisions involving her without her input, I would ask you to be… Gentle, with her. She is likely to be fragile for the next few days due to this…"

Albedo blinked, turning her focus from Lord Momonga to her Lady Zara. She could have been wrong, might have mis-seen it, and yet—

You twitched again. A small twitch, but a twitch nonetheless. Your ear flicked, your nose scrunched up; were you waking up?

Her eyes flicked around the room; all eyes were on Lord Momonga. All eyes, except for Demiurge and Sebas. They had seen you twitch as well, their eyes flickering between your sleeping form and her beloved; by now, it was a matter of time before you woke up. Perhaps sooner than expected. Or, perhaps, it was simply a nightmare.

She hoped it was the former.

Lord Momonga did not seem to have noticed. In fact, he'd continued speaking.

"My Lord," She hated to interrupt, truly; but this was important. If what Lord Momonga said was true, then she wouldn't be surprised if her beloved Lady Zara woke up… agitated, to say the least. "Lady Zara seems to be waking up." She placed a hand on your shoulder as she spoke, confusion over what appeared to be fur appearing on your face masked away. "Perhaps it would be best to continue this in a different room."

"I understand your concern, Albedo. However, Zara will likely sleep for several hours. She must simply be having a bad dream, is all." Demiurge twitched; something to question him about later. However, her beloved had noticed the twitching.

Lady Zara began to appear more animal-like, features slowly shifting to be more fox-like; it was strange. It wasn't like her beloved was in any danger-

Nightmare. That's why Lady Zara was transforming; you were shifting, perhaps instinctively, to your higher attack power form to protect yourself from the dream. It was a definite bad sign, for sure.

"I see. Then, perhaps it might be best to give her space." Albedo spoke, placing a hand on and gently squeezing your shoulder to try and comfort your dream self.

And that was when you woke up.

A growl rumbled in your chest, your eyes open but not seeing as you struggled against blankets. Your face elongated in mere moments into a snout, teeth sharpening into fangs. Pain erupted from her wrist as teeth sank into her flesh.

She didn't understand.

Your teeth scrape the bones in her wrist, snapping tendons and severing muscles.

You bit her. Had she… Done something wrong?

She pulled her hand off your shoulder as if it were a hot iron, tears welling up in her eyes.

And then.

You.

Let.

Go.

She heard the others talking, but all she cared to see was your form on the bed.

Watched, as your eyes scanned the room, unseeing at first.

Saw you shatter, as you understood what had happened.

Sebas took her hand, pressing his gloves on the wound to halt the blood. She gently shook his hands off, applying pressure to the wounds herself. Couldn't he see that you needed the attention, the care, the gentleness, more than she?

She, who hurt you, deserved none of this.

Perhaps she deserved to be bitten.

Your face returned to its normal state in a moment, your head going to your hands. Tears, tears that she couldn't whisk away, dripped from your covered eyes and into your lap.

All thought, all processing, was whisked from her mind the moment the mournful wail started.

She had never heard someone sound so… Broken. So broken, battered, beaten… Defeated.

A Supreme Being shouldn't be making a noise like this. It meant that everyone—every floor guardian, every maid, every roach and cricket and mouse within Nazarick's walls, had failed you. Even Lord Momonga, with his infinite wisdom, would be hard-pressed to say he hadn't failed you; she was sure of it.

She couldn't hold you; you'd made it very clear her touch wasn't wanted. She glanced to Sebas, eyes pleading; he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder for her. She didn't even care when Demiurge followed suit; this was just one of those times where they'd be in agreement.

Blood mixed with your tears; her heart broke. A single tear trickled down her cheek, one she couldn't will to remain inside any longer.

Her beloved broke the spell, the trance her lovely, broken, Lady Zara seemed to be in. He took your paws, infinitely gentle with his concern. "This is not your fault," he seemed to say. "We love you," he seemed to say. "We're here for you," he seemed to say.

Evidently, it was what Lady Zara needed to hear.

You pulled your paws from your forehead, letting them rest limply in Lord Momonga's hands. Silence permeated the space, echoed through her heart and soul.

Albedo hadn't expected you to do… this.

You were mad at her, surely. You'd bitten her.

And yet, you were requesting… Requesting her.

She placed her hand—her unbitten hand, she wouldn't sully your blankets with her blood—into yours. Perhaps… Perhaps she was to be punished again, for daring to harm her darling?

You pressed her hand to your forehead, your tears just barely dripping to her fingertips.

Was this… An apology?

A faint whimper echoed in the silence, shattering it like a mirror.

It was an apology.

Immediately, the others began gently speaking, as if talking would get you to respond. However, your attention was solely on her.

"I understand, Lady Zara. You do not need to apologize to me." She managed to speak, weakly wiping at her tears with her bloodied hand. She'd readily admit to crying, though she hadn't the foggiest when she'd started.

"I forgive you."

There has to be a better way to do her job; Lady Zara shouldn't have to feel this way again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, guys! If you have any questions, buring desires, or any inquires about the future of this fic and it's canon divergence, leave your reviews with questions here! I wanted o do a QnA for you guys, since Archive Of Our Own gets updates first; think of it as a special update for you guys 3