Here comes a tearful flashback and a panic attack. Enjoy.

Chapter 4 – Undeserved Forgiveness

The proud, stubborn leader of a failed revolution had entered the gaol. A shaking wreck that could barely stand was guided out five and a half years later. Bandages covered him head to toe; a large swathe of them covering his left eye; his right leg was in a cast, he was severely underweight, and there was a terror in his eyes that almost brought Clarity to tears. However, they refused to let the floodgates open. It wouldn't do to break down in front of him.

"I promise, I won't rest until you're better," they vowed as they half walked, half carried him out of the gaol.

Erskine was silent as he limped along the pathway leading out. His bloodshot eyes were lowered to the ground, and his legs were trembling.

"Erskine? Is everything okay?"

"M' fine," Erskine mumbled.

Clarity frowned, but kept leading him towards the RV. They'd left their friends at the campsite, not wanting to worry them by taking them on a road trip to a notorious Irish gaol.

"You'll like the company I keep," Clarity said. "They've got their quirks, but then again, so have I."

"Hmm… seem like your kind of people."

In the RV, Erskine sat at the table whilst Clarity took the wheel and drove off. The freed convict stared at the shrinking shape of the gaol, and as it finally disappeared from view, he felt his eyes stinging.

They stopped by a shop so Clarity could grab some supplies. When they came back, they found Erskine slumped on the table, sobbing uncontrollably. Dropping the shopping bags, they rushed over to the distraught mage and immediately sat down next to him, unsure of what to do.

"Erskine? Erskine, what's wrong?"

Erskine just continued to weep, tears streaming unhindered down his face. The display wrenched at Clarity's chest, and they carefully coaxed him into an embrace. At first, he tried to squirm away, but eventually, he collapsed into a shivering wreck in Clarity's arms, desperately clinging to them like a lifeline.

"Th-thank y-y-you," he choked. "Thank you s-so much!"

Clarity sighed and stroked Erskine's hair tenderly, nuzzling him occasionally. Erskine was completely destroyed; the fierce, honourable mage he'd been during the war had been battered down to this vulnerable cub who needed all the protection that the world was refusing to give him.

"You're family," they whispered. "Family protects each other. Come on, we need to get back."

Erskine let go of them and allowed them to get up. Clarity gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze before heading to the driver's seat and starting up the engine.

I meant what I said, Erskine, they thought. I will help you. I don't care what any stuck-up skeletons say; you're family, and I intend to protect you.

Dexter came down to the living room to find Saracen still asleep on the couch. Erskine was awake, pulling on the same turtleneck from yesterday. However, he wasn't quick enough to conceal the tapestry of fresh scars on his back before Dexter caught a glimpse of them.

"Let me guess," he muttered, startling Erskine. "Prison fights."

Erskine looked away. "Umm… yeah," he mumbled. "Yes, I… I got into fights… that's why… that's why, um… the scars…"

Dexter snorted and rolled his eyes. "Typical." Without another word, he turned on his heels and left for the kitchen. A few seconds later, Erskine followed after him.

"Dexter, I-."

"Forget it, Ravel."

"I don't expect you to forgive me," Erskine said quickly, stepping in front of Dexter. "Ever. I just want you to know I'm sorry. I always was."

"Do I look like I care?"

Erskine shrank back, but stayed where he was. "Please, I don't want to fight. Not any more. I'm tired of fighting you."

"If this is what you call an apology, then it's not working."

"Like I said; I don't expect you to forgive me. But… it would mean the world to Clarity if you at least tried. And it would mean even more to me. Mostly because I know I don't deserve it."

Dexter frowned. He had him there. Clarity was like a niece to him; he'd do nearly anything for them.

"Out of my way, Erskine," he growled, noting the way Erskine's eyes widened in terror before he scurried out of the way.

Jesus Christ, what's gotten into him? Dexter thought bitterly as he entered the kitchen. Clarity was already there with Valkyrie, frying bacon and toasting bread. A jug of freshly made coffee was waiting in the coffee machine.

"Morning," he grunted as he poured himself a mug of the steaming beverage. Valkyrie, too focused on the bacon to pay much attention, mumbled something unintelligible in response. Clarity's attention was caught by Erskine.

"Did you sleep okay?" they asked, walking over and gently checking him over, inspecting the dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Up until two in the morning, then Saracen and I went on a walk," Erskine replied quietly.

"You should have come to see me after you got back."

"I didn't want to wake you."

"You know a few minutes of sleep lost doesn't bother me. For you, every second counts."

"Since when was Clarity Erskine's mother?" Valkyrie hissed in Dexter's ear.

The Dead Man just shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

At that moment, Saracen walked in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Morning," he mumbled. "Everything alright?"

"Yep," Clarity said bluntly as they handed Erskine a vial filled with a silvery blue liquid. He took it and replaced the empty one that hung from a cord around his neck with it.

"What's that?" Saracen asked.

"Sleeping draught," Erskine muttered, tucking the vial beneath his jumper. "It's not amazing, but it stops me from looking like a meth addict with anemia."

"You have insomnia?"

Erskine nodded silently. "It's been a big problem since Darquesse."

Saracen's frown deepened. "Oh. So… not because of the gaol."

"Mmhmm."

"I'm hoping to get something more effective whilst I'm here in Ireland," Clarity explained, handing a box of eggs to Valkyrie. "Canada didn't provide much, but then again, we didn't travel too far, so there's a lot I may have missed."

They looked like they wanted to say more, but Erskine interrupted. "Do you need any help with breakfast?" he asked.

Dexter rolled his eyes. "Someone call the fire service," he muttered.

"Mind taking some plates into the living room?" Valkyrie asked. "And some knives and forks?"

After breakfast, Clarity and her friends spent most of the day in Haggard, seeing what the town had to offer, which wasn't much in Valkyrie's opinion. Tanith and Ghastly went home, and Dexter and Saracen also returned to their apartments in Roarhaven, but intended to spend the evening at Edgely Manor.

So late that evening, Dexter, Saracen, Clarity and the older members of their group were enjoying some champagne that Joutsen; a flier with the ability to manipulate water; had bought earlier that day. Skulduggery and Valkyrie were absent, having left to sort out a case China had given them. Chances were that they wouldn't be back for the rest of the night.

Erskine had somehow managed to doze off without the aid of his sleeping draught. He was slumped across an armchair with his legs hanging over one of the armrests, and his chin rested on his chest. A small paperback book had fallen from his hands to the floor.

Dexter; partially drunk as he was; was more than tempted to scare him into wakefulness. He was just about to do that when Erskine started getting restless, and the expression on his face was no longer so peaceful. He started whimpering fretfully, kicking his legs and twitching. The whines escalated into quiet cries of 'no', and the weak twitches became violent jerks as he tried to get away from some horror that pervaded his dreams.

Clarity quickly noticed, and was immediately on their feet, walking slowly towards Erskine. They looked worried and more than a little cautious, but didn't seem too unfamiliar with this behaviour, leading Dexter to believe that this was a regular occurrence.

The moment Clarity reached out a hand to shake his shoulder, Erskine's eyes snapped open, terror etched in every detail of his face. He screamed, threw his hand up, and the cryptid went flying, smashing into the wall with a loud 'thump!' They grunted in pain, but the speed at which they recovered proved that no damage had been dealt.

Dexter didn't seem to care. In his intoxicated state, he was livid.

Erskine scrambled backwards, inadvertently overturning the armchair he was in. It didn't stop him from backing into the corner like a wild animal, arms raised defensively and looking at everyone as if they were going to kill him or worse.

"Don't… don't touch me," he begged weakly, tears welling up in his eyes. "P-please."

He shivered violently when Dexter rose to his feet and stalked towards him threateningly. Energy flared in his palm, and he intended to send it on a straight course to Erskine's face.

"Big mistake, Ravel," the Energy-Thrower growled. He was just about to let the blast fly before Saracen got in his way.

"Dexter, don't," he ordered, placing a firm hand on his friend's chest.

"Why the hell are you defending him?!" Dexter snapped. Behind Saracen, Erskine had curled up into a ball and was shaking uncontrollably. "He betrayed us, almost got us killed, ran away from Darquesse, and-."

"He was also raped and abused for five and a half fucking years," Saracen stated harshly. "I'd say it's time we tried forgiving him. He deserves that at least."

Dexter immediately sobered up, shock plastering his face. "You're… you're joking," he said.

"Am I?"

Whilst the two Dead Men stared each other off, Clarity had rushed over to Erskine, who had his head buried between his knees and was crying pitifully.

"Erskine?" Clarity ventured, inching towards him. "Erskine, it's okay. Please, calm down. I'm not angry at you."

Erskine continued to tremble, and when Clarity wrapped an arm around his shoulder, he desperately tried to scramble away. After a few words of consolation, he did eventually let himself be pulled into the cryptid's embrace. By now, all of Clarity's friends were looking at him with sympathy. Jack (despite being one of the more drunk members of the group) was clearly sending out calming vibes for the man's benefit.

Eventually, Erskine's panicked breakdown came to an end. He relaxed, and his breathing steadied, but he still had his arms around Clarity's chest and his head was still rested on their shoulder. Dexter was staring at him in shocked worry.

"Oh, God," he breathed. "Oh, God, Erskine…"

The mage in question didn't attempt to respond. He just stood up, straightened out his turtleneck and walked out, mumbling something about getting some sleep in the RV. After a short while, Clarity followed after him, not bothering to finish off their drink.

Sobered by the incident, their friends slowly trickled out as well, leaving only a still stunned Dexter and a sour-faced Saracen.

"You going to cut him some slack, now?" Saracen demanded.

A dumb nod was his only answer.

"Good. I'm going to bed. You get to sleep on the couch tonight."

Erskine was lying on the bed when Clarity came in. He looked up at them with tired eyes that barely concealed a crippling fear within them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as Clarity sat down by his feet.

"It wasn't your fault," they said assertively. "Fear does a lot to people."

Erskine sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I thought I was doing so well."

"You're around people who want to batter you to a pulp for what you did; hardly what you're used to after six months of me playing mother hen."

"I guess you're right."

"You should get some sleep. I'm going for a walk."

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning, then."

A few minutes after Clarity left, Erskine pulled out the vial of sleeping draught from around his neck. Tipping his head back, he downed the dose in one gulp, feeling the sweet liquid slide down his throat. Once it reached his stomach, the bittersweet aftertaste hit his taste buds, and he grimaced weakly.

Moments after swallowing, his eyelids felt heavy and there was a fuzziness in his head that was something akin to whenever he had too much alcohol to drink. Lying back down, he didn't bother to pull the sheets over him or get changed out of what he was wearing, simply curling up and closing his eyes.

He hoped he didn't have more nightmares tonight…

Wow, you're still here? Thanks! I didn't expect anyone to stay! Let me know what you think.