Chapter 50

Mark retrieved her wedding ring and set it on the table alongside his own. For 17 years she wanted his name, birthed his baby… and given everything to him. Fine. He had obviously done nothing except cause her pain and misery, either because he wasn't a mind reader or because his other half, his other personality, was now loose and she was pissed she apparently couldn't jump that dick anymore. Brooklynn was suffering, their daughter was in danger and it was all on him, including their now failed marriage.

Taker wasn't saying a word, pretty sure in his current mood, and with those dark thoughts, Mark would probably find a way to actually end him.

Was she not good enough to marry? That was one of the many questions flying through her mind at the moment while she packed her bag, her vision blinded by tears. Why wasn't she good enough for Mark to want to marry her? Taker had been back only weeks and wanted to put a ring on her finger, to claim her in every way, but Mark didn't…and hadn't, not until Taker came back. She couldn't understand it. She loved Mark with everything inside of her, both parts of him, even though Taker had betrayed her in the worst way. Perhaps she deserved it after using him the first time. Perhaps Mark really didn't want to get married and didn't value a piece of paper and a ring as proof of their love. It wasn't just the piece of paper and ring though – it was her last name. She CRAVED to be a Calaway, to be tied to him in every way and for 17 years, Brooklynn swallowed it down because she didn't want to risk losing Mark.

Her chest felt as though it was caving in, her heart splintering down the middle as the shattered pieces floated to the bottom of her stomach. Zipping her bag, Brooklynn looked around the bedroom where she'd shared so many moments with Mark and Taker, another piece of her heartbreaking and hoped they could fix this somehow, someway. She wasn't putting the blame totally on Mark because that would be very hypocritical of her, but…until Mark got control completely over his counterpart, his darker half, Claira wasn't safe in this house. Taker wasn't trustworthy and would never be again. Walking out, Brooklynn nodded at Claira, who had been waiting for her and took her hand, guiding her downstairs and out the door. If she looked at Mark, she would break down and run back into his arms, which wasn't an option right now.

Breaking free of her Mom, Claira ran to Mark, tossing her arms around his neck. She felt his arms going around her, lifting her off the ground and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "I don't understand what's happening."

"Me either, lil darlin'," He whispered, stroking her hair gently. He got what Taker had done, and he'd be rectifying that soon enough. The rest, Brooklynn's apparent true feelings regarding him… not so much.

Claira could see her father all she wanted, as long as he came to Trish and Steve's. She wasn't allowed in this house again until it was 100% safe. Brooklynn waited until Claira joined her in the car and pulled out of the driveway, following Trish and Steve to their place. Randy was in the backseat, laying down. He didn't trust staying in that house with Undertaker, even though the asshole had saved his life. Brooklynn didn't blame him a bit; she didn't even trust being in that house with Mark right now and sincerely hoped Taker stayed out of her dreams. If he entered one, she would force herself to awaken by offing herself in front of him. Brooklynn wanted NOTHING to do with that piece of shit as long as she lived, as long as there was a breath left in her body. Silent, angry, painful tears slid down her already raw cheeks the entire drive to Trish and Steve's, the drive made in complete silence.

He didn't know who had remained, if anyone, and he didn't overly care. Mark knew better than to exert any magic right now; he wasn't wasting his own precious energy, not when he was going to need it to somehow get rid of the Demon in his head. "You knew who you were dealing with and still did it." He muttered, sliding into his truck and peeling out of the driveway. He was going to the library.

Like I said, Bastet wasn't something I knew about, nor Claira.

"'IT'S FUCKING NEMESIS AND HIS BASTARD SON!"

Trish was not surprised when Brooklynn holed herself up in her designated bedroom since she'd stayed here before. Claira had her own room, which was right next to her mother's and Randy had his own room as well. Trish got him all settled in, asked if he needed anything and promised she would get them some food since the pizza at Brooklynn and Mark's never showed up. Probably due to Seth's random appearance, which still sent shivers down her spine. She STILL couldn't believe Brooklynn had kept the truth about Taker being back from Mark or Taker betraying everyone by being Seth's accomplice. This was one messed up day and she didn't blame Brooklynn for wanting to be completely alone.

Brooklynn cried herself to sleep, passing out from sheer exhaustion and pain before the food arrived. She wasn't hungry anyway.

It was entirely messed up that Taker was able to project an astral form. It was like looking at himself, but not. This way allowed Taker to take the form he preferred, the jet black hair, the beard, morbidly and all. "This is your fault you know."

"Fuck OFF." Mark knew the odds of finding something, anything, was going to be hard. He had never been able to get Taker out, gone, not without Bastet and that had only been a lock. And Familiars weren't exactly something one came by every day.

"If you wouldn't have been so fuckin' happy to just finally HAVE her, after all those years of you two dancing back and forth, you'd have realized… she was never really happy."

"Doesn't change the fact that you killed Bastet and now Claira is in danger…"

"Lynn darlin'…"

Even in sleep, she was tortured as tears slid down her cheeks from her closed eyelids, her body curled up in a tight ball while clutching the tear-stained pillow. Having Mark and Taker merged was a dream come true for Brooklynn. It meant she had the best of both worlds and it was exhilarating. Now, she didn't have either of them because she had walked away from Mark. Taker could die for all she cared; all of her love for him had vanished the moment she discovered he'd been working with Seth Rollins all this time. He put their daughter in danger, even if he didn't realize it and had their beloved cat, Mark's Familiar, murdered to free himself.

Claira had managed to get the door unlocked with her lockpick and crawled into bed with her mother, snuggling up against her. "I'm here, Mommy. I'm here, please stop crying." She murmured, stroking her mother's hair and watched her instantly calm down, the sobbing ceasing. Her heart broke at the sight of her mother and Claira couldn't remember ever seeing her so…fragmented.

"Is this how he did it?" Mark asked quietly, looking around where they were there. It was her dream, but he didn't recognize the place. Black silk draping the walls, candles that had been burnt down, unlit. "He came to you like this… just in your dreams at first…" Taker was a slick son of a bitch… and he had locked that bastard up with a temporary warding spell. He knew seeing Brooklynn in the actual world, tonight, was out of the question. His body was passed out in the library, which was safe from anything but him.

Brooklynn's head snapped up at the sound of his voice, expecting Taker to come torture her and found… "Mark? W-What are you doing here?"

Her face wasn't red-faced and tear-stained the way it was in the real world while she slept deeply, unable to awaken. She was currently naked, the black sheet drawn up to her chest and her amber eyes were wide in both perplexity and wonder. Mark had never, to her knowledge, visited her in her dreams, not the way Taker had.

"Yeah…the first two dreams he throttled me, killing me in one of them and then…the third dream seduced me. We were outside of that mansion I blew up in Phoenix, do you remember? It was storming outside with rain, thunder, and lightning and I was in a white nightgown soaked through. We moved from the storm inside to this room…only the walls were covered in fire. I-I don't know why I fell for it, for him, why I wanted him so badly, I could taste it, but…I did and we talked afterward. He made me feel horrible about what happened all those years ago, how I called him back to use him for his power to destroy Nemesis and not because I WANTED him back. He…manipulated me and poisoned my heart…and I hate him. I hate him so fucking much for what he's done…"

"But you also wanted him and what he was giving you." Mark waved a hand at her, watching as a nightgown, white no less, covered her beneath that sheet. He wasn't here to seduce her or any of that. He didn't even move to join her in the bed. "You seemed to hate him, and everything about him so much, Brooklynn… but he's not wrong, is he? There's something about him, something primal and bestial that you needed…" That had been his way in, as disgusting as it was. "Be honest," Mark pleaded in a whisper. "Do you love him?"

This was harder to talk about than Brooklynn realized as she pushed the black silk sheets away, the white nightgown the exact same one that had been in her previous dream with Taker. "He put our daughter in danger…" When he repeated the question, Brooklynn felt tears sting her eyes and looked up at him, nodding. "Yes, I do. But I love you too, Mark. I love you both equally. It feels like my heart is being split in two, right down the middle. I tried…I tried SO hard not to love him all these years and I know you kept him locked up with Bastet partially because of me, because of how dangerous he is. He showed his true colors, so no matter how much I love him, I'll never trust him again. And without trust…" There was no way she'd ever face Undertaker and that stabbing pain in her heart would dull over time, like it did before, until she didn't feel it anymore. "I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry I lied to you and didn't tell you about him being back. I thought…I thought I was protecting him…and I had no idea he was working with Seth. He convinced me you would destroy him if you found out he was back…and I believed him. It's my fault…I shouldn't have trusted him, and I should've told you everything that was going on. That night I woke up masturbating wasn't because of Jensen Ackles either. It was because of that stormy, fiery dream I had with Taker."

All those times he had been having sex with her, those half-memories, that had been Taker… he had thought that the headaches and weirdness were related to Bastet's passing. They had been connected after all… no, it went a bit deeper than that. He knew why Taker had done what he had, he had delved into those memories, as repulsive as he found them. He had seen the anger, and the rage, at being locked away while they had moved on with their lives. Felt the despair. Still didn't condone anything.

"I don't know if I can get rid of him, Brooklynn." He admitted finally. "Not without doing it to myself anyway… we're not… there's never been anything like us."

She nodded solemnly, expecting to hear that, but it didn't make it any less painful. Brooklynn wiped her tears away, knowing how this could end since he couldn't rid himself of his dark counterpart. They wouldn't be together anymore. She would lose him because Claira couldn't be put in danger. Mark wasn't strong enough to keep Taker locked up either, not forever. Claira would always be in danger around her father, which broke her heart into a million pieces. Not to mention, Seth was still out there somewhere, and they had to destroy him before he could find a way to open that dimension.

"I understand." She murmured, clasping her hands in her lap and crossed her legs Indian style. "You know, I have to admit, when you were merged together as one, moving and acting as one, it was a dream come true for me. It was like…I got the best of both of you, even in that little bit of time before everything blew to hell. But I know that's not possible, not permanently." Another heartbreaking reality.

Also not exactly something he wanted to hear right now. The idea of being merged, forever, with that hateful, evil bastard made his stomach curdle. It should have made hers as well, though… she loved both of them. Even with all the hell Taker had unleashed in their lives, she loved him.

"Get some sleep darlin', if Claira needs anythin', call. I'm… at the library right now." He hesitated before clearing his throat. "Taker isn't coming to visit you in your dreams anymore, Brooklynn… for now, he's sealed behind some old, ancient magic and, before he gets a chance to break through, I'll have found something else to contain him." Always temporary, but for now… he had to think.

"Do you hate me, Mark? I-I know I made a mistake by lying to you about him." Brooklynn sniffled, trembling from how many emotions coursed through her and couldn't look at him, afraid of the answer to the question she just asked. "And I only left because I don't trust that house or Taker right now around Claira. As long as it's only you and you have the strength to keep him locked away, I don't have a problem with you seeing Claira. I don't want to keep her from you. Hell, I miss you and it's only been a couple hours." How would she survive without him if they couldn't be together, if she lost him for good?

"I don't hate you Brooklynn. I don't understand you… and I'm fuckin' livid with you, but I don't hate you." He figured as long as they were together, he'd know her better, but he didn't. Mark had been happy the way things were, he hadn't realized she had been so damn desperate to have some sort of validation of his love… and she had jumped on that as soon as Taker pushed it. "I have to go. Get some rest."

He made no comment on Claira because there wasn't any way Brooklynn could stop him from seeing her, even if she had been inclined. Point blank, he already knew, eventually, they were going to need him. It was just going to be a long, painful waiting period for a while.

"You too…"