"Here lies Katrina Blake, killed by Francis Stone."

Francis stared at the tombstone in front of him in disbelief. He read it over and over, but he just couldn't comprehend the words that were written on it.

"Why are you surprised?" a voice which sounded suspiciously like his own asked, "You've always destroyed everything you touch. Why would she be any different?"

"You're wrong! I would never hurt her!" he argued.

The voice laughed at him, "Who are you trying to fool? Just face it, you're like fire. You just destroy everything that gets too close."

Flames rose up from the ground, spreading uncontrollably. Francis could only watch as it consumed Katrina's grave, helpless to stop it. Before long, even he was swallowed by the fire.

Francis shot up in bed, throwing off his covers as he gasped for air. Sweat trailed down his body as he realized that it had all been a nightmare. He sighed, pushing his damp hair out of his face.

It wasn't the first time that he had had a nightmare about causing the death of a loved one and he doubted that it would be the last. It wasn't even the first time he had dreamt of his girlfriend's untimely demise. Despite this and the fact that this nightmare wasn't nearly as gory as any of his previous ones, Francis was still deeply troubled by it.

Normally whenever he heard taunting voices in these hellish dreams they always belonged to his father. This was the first time he had heard the scathing remarks in his own voice. The other thing that bothered him was the fire and the comment about him being just like it, destroying everything he touched. That had never happened before either.

Francis held his open hand out in front of him, staring blankly at the flame dancing in his palm. "He was right." he thought to himself.

Fire wasn't just a part of him, he really WAS like fire. He had a hot temper and quickly resorted to violence. He was unpredictable and practically uncontrollable when he got angry. Back in his criminal days, whenever something pissed him off he just set it on fire. And then he'd laugh as he watched it burn.

Francis extinguished the flame by clenching his fist, stomach churning at the thought of how he used to act. He flopped back on his bed and closed his eyes, the image of Katrina smiling at him with love and trust flashing through his mind.

She was almost the exact opposite of him. With her powers, she could create beautiful things and heal people. She was kind and thoughtful and possessed an almost endless amount of patience. She always went out of her to help people, even if those people didn't always deserve it.

"People like me..." he thought, opening his eyes.

Even with these thoughts, the image of Katrina's grave kept popping into his head. Francis groaned and rolled onto his side, irritated by his own foolishness. Logically he knew that Katrina was safe at home, but an annoying little voice in the back of his mind kept asking, "what if?"

With a growl, he reached for his nightstand, searching blindly until he finally grabbed his cell phone. Turning on the display, he saw that it read Saturday, 12:30 am.

Francis frowned, mentally debating whether or not he should call her. It wasn't a school night, so there was a chance that she was still awake. However, there was also a good chance that she was asleep and he didn't want to wake her up because of some stupid nightmare.

On the other hand, if Katrina found out that he had had another nightmare that caused him to lose sleep and he didn't tell her, she'd yell at him until her tongue fell out. Though Francis didn't like the idea of calling his girlfriend every time he had a nightmare, it just made him feel pathetic.

Still, he supposed that there was no harm in calling her up and saying he just wanted to say good night. That was something normal couples did, right?

Finally coming to a decision, Francis dialed his girlfriend's number and waited for her to pick up. The phone rang a few times, then went to voicemail. He frowned, it wasn't like her to not answer her phone, even at this time of night. He hung up and tried again, only to receive the same result.

He stared at his cell phone, feeling more unnerved than he had before. Katrina never had her cell phone off and always made sure the batteries were charged in case anyone needed to contact her. Francis reasoned that it was possible the she had just put her phone on silent and was merely asleep, but that damn nagging voice just wouldn't leave him alone.

Francis sighed and sat up, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep until he saw with his own eyes that Katrina was okay. He supposed that he could just throw on some clothes and drop by her window to check on her. If she was awake he'd stay and talk with her awhile, if she was asleep then at least he'd be able to see that she was safe in her bed.

His inner conflict over, the redhead got dressed, not even bothering to fix his hair, and made his way out of the house through his bedroom window.

When he reached Katrina's bedroom window he was surprised to discover that she was not asleep, but sitting in front of her computer with the lights off. She was staring intently at the screen, headphones covering her ears.

Francis knocked loudly on the window, but of course received no response. He moved to open the window and was not surprised to find it unlocked. She always left it unlocked as he had a habit of entering the house through her window.

Once inside, he closed the window and approached his girlfriend slowly, not wanting to startle her. Upon closer inspection, he saw that Katrina was playing an RPG of some kind, her headphones plugged into the computer.

"Katrina?"

No response.

"Hey, Katrina?" he called, louder this time as he placed a hand on her shoulder to try to get her attention.

That had been a mistake.

Katrina jolted out of her seat, standing so fast that her headphones were ripped from the socket. Turning swiftly on her heel, she raised her right leg to deliver what would have been a painful kick to the head.

Although he had been caught off guard, his hands had thankfully reacted faster than his brain had and caught her leg before it connected with his face.

Panting like she had just run a marathon, it took Katrina a moment to realize that the person in front of her was not an intruder, but her boyfriend. She then smiled brightly at him, delight in her big blue eyes.

"Hi, Frankie!" she greeted cheerfully, as though she hadn't just tried to kick his face in.

Francis felt his eye twitch, put off by the sudden change in attitude, "What the hell do you mean, hi? What was that all about?"

"You started me." she stated as though it was obvious, "It was a reflex."

"That's one hell of a reflex."

It was then that Francis realized that Katrina was only wearing a blue spaghetti strap nightgown that stopped a few inches below her knees. And he was still holding her leg in the air. He caught sight of a flash of black cloth from beneath her nightgown and abruptly dropped her leg. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to look at anything but her as a blush crept across his face. Katrina, not realizing what had happened, gave her boyfriend a questioning look.

"A-anyway, what the hell are you doing sitting here in the dark?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Katrina opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the sinister buzz of a chainsaw echoing loudly through her room. Francis jumped as he heard a man's creepy voice say, "Ayaaaa," followed by the scream of a little girl.

Katrina pouted and glanced over at her computer screen, the words, "Game Over," displayed in big, bold letters, taunting her.

"Damn it, he killed me." she muttered as she removed her headphones from around her neck and placed them on the desk. She turned down the volume and exited out of the game, then turned on her desk lamp so the room wasn't pitch black anymore.

Katrina turned back to Francis, only to find him eyeing her computer warily, almost as if expecting it to attack him. She rolled her eyes, "It was just a game, Francis. I've been playing it all night."

Francis suddenly found himself questioning his girlfriend's mental state. Playing a horror game at almost one in the morning, it was no wonder she had tried to kick him in the face!

"Not that I mind you dropping by unannounced, but what are you doing here so late?"

"I called you." he stated, now feeling rather silly for worrying.

Katrina's eyes went wide as she reached for her phone, finding that she had two missed calls from Francis. "Francis... I'm so sorry." she said guiltily, "I thought that if I put it next to my keyboard I'd see it light up and that I'd be fine with the headphones."

Francis shrugged, flopping down on her bed, "It's not a big deal."

"If you called me twice at half past midnight and then came here to see me because I didn't answer, then it is a big deal." she argued, taking a seat next to him, "So what happened?"

"It's nothing."

"You didn't come here at one in the morning without even fixing your hair for nothing."

"It's nothing!" he insisted.

Katrina paused a moment to take a deep breath, irritated by the pyro's stubbornness. "You know I can tell when you're lying to me, right?"

He flinched, but otherwise said nothing.

"You have two strikes. You have one more chance to tell me the truth before I give you a penalty."

"Penalty?"

"Well," she began in a cheerful voice, that scheming smile that he loved and hated so much spreading across her face, "I was thinking of using my powers to grow a flower on your head. Oh, and for extra fun, I've decided that I will make it dance, too!"

Francis stared at her in disbelief. If he didn't know any better, he would think that the healer took pleasure in the embarrassment of others.

"... Can you really do that?"

"Wanna find out?"

"... No."

She grinned victoriously, "Okay, then. What happened?"

He sighed, laying back on the bed with his hands behind his head. "It was another damn nightmare, okay?!"

"Another one, huh?" she was sympathetic, but not surprised. She knew that Francis suffered from frequent nightmares and had one almost every night. He had told her that they had started when he hit puberty and had been continuing ever since, so he was mostly used to them. Although every once in awhile he'd have a particularly bad one and would feel the need to call her just to make sure she was alright.

Katrina ran her fingers through Francis' hair, lightly scratching his scalp with her nails. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, trusting her completely.

"What happened this time?"

He frowned as he recalled it, "I was looking at your gravestone. It said that I killed you."

Her hand stopped briefly as she processed the words, then went back to combing his hair. "You would never hurt me."

"That's what I said. But it told me that I was just like a fire, that I destroy everything I touch."

Katrina shook her head fondly at him, smiling to herself. Only he would think that way. "And is that all a fire does? Is that it's only purpose?"

"'Trina, don't start talking in riddles."

"What I mean is, a fire does have the power to destroy, there's no doubt about that." Francis felt the bed shift as she continued, her tone full of the unconditional love that he was not used to receiving, "But a fire does other things as well. It provides light and warmth, things that you have and continue to give to me so graciously. I suppose that in that respect you are like a fire."

"But I'm destructive!" he desperately tried to argue, "I had said so myself in the dream!"

He felt her hand withdraw from his hair. "Francis," she said gently, "Look at me."

The pyro did as he was told and was momentarily struck speechless. Katrina had moved to lean over him, her face mere inches away from his. Her eyes were full of adoration, smiling fondly, lovingly, at him. It was a pure, unguarded expression with no hidden intentions behind it. An expression directed only at him, meant only for him.

"You've changed, Francis. You're no longer the person you once were. It's time for you to move on and forgive yourself. It's okay to forgive yourself, no one is going to get angry at you for it. It's okay."

He couldn't help himself. Placing one hand on Katrina's neck, he pulled the healer down on top of him. Katrina let out a surprised squeak before he captured her lips with his, his free arm going around her waist to hold her tightly to him.

How long had he waited for this? How long had he waited for someone to love him despite his faults? To not think less of him for his weaknesses? How long had he waited for someone to tell him that it was okay? For someone to see that he was more than just some thug with a temper? To see that he had thoughts and emotions and problems? How long had he waited for someone to just say, "I love you," and mean it?

"Too long." he decided, showering Katrina in frantic kisses as if his life depended on it, "Way too long."

The pace of his kisses gradually slowed down, ending with a peck on her lips. Pulling away, he had to stop himself from laughing at how red his girlfriend's face had become.

Even before they had started dating, Katrina knew that Francis was not the most eloquent person in the world and she accepted that. Their relationship was no different. Sure, he would still tell her that he loved her, but he preferred to show her. Despite being physically affectionate right from the beginning, Katrina was still not used to his passionate displays.

Francis held her to his chest, stroking her hair as he tried to figure out what to say. "...Thank you."

She let out a small, breathless laugh, "I love you, too."

They laid there in silence for a few minutes, content with just being in the other's presence. Katrina felt her eyes begin to droop when Francis spoke up.

"So, why black?"

Katrina sat up, brows furrowed in confusion as she gazed at his face. Then realization dawned on her, her blue eyes going wide as her cheeks flushed bright red. She glared at him, indignant.

"Y-you!" she sputtered accusingly, "You looked?!"

"To be fair, you were the one who tried to kick me in the face while wearing a nightgown." he shrugged, unable to keep the playfully lecherous grin off his face, "To be honest, I was expecting blue or white."

The healer gawked at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish as she struggled to find a response. Francis couldn't help but laugh, making no attempts to mask his amusement. With a huff, Katrina pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Y-yeah, well... I hope you got a good look because this is the last time you'll see them or any other pair!"

Her remark only made him laugh harder, causing her blush to darken. He tugged on her arm and pulled her back into his embrace. She protested, still irritated with him, but she was silenced when he pressed another brief, sweet kiss to her lips. Pulling away, he grinned as she pouted, knowing that she wasn't actually mad at him.

"I love you." she muttered, sounding defeated.

Francis silently thanked whoever was responsible for allowing him to meet the girl in his arms as they both drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Kathrine Blake awoke at noon and sleepily trudged down stairs to the kitchen where she expected to find her little sister cooking breakfast as she usually did. However, instead of finding the younger Blake and a table full of food, she discovered that the kitchen was completely empty with no signs that anyone had been in there since dinner last night.

"Did she sleep in?" she thought, making her way back up the stairs to her sister's room, "I hope she didn't stay up all night playing that damn game."

Without even bothering to knock, Kathrine opened her sister's bedroom door and sighed at the scene she was met with.

Her baby sister was fast asleep in the arms of her hotheaded boyfriend, who was also asleep. The two had fallen asleep on the bed sideways, their legs dangling off the edge.

Kathrine shot an accusing glare at the room's only window and the tree just outside. "I'm going to nail that damn window shut!"

.:Line Break:.

I'll be honest, I'm a little nervous about this one, so please let me know what you think. Also, I'm curious if any of you can guess what game Katrina was playing.