A/N: THIS. THIS is a HUGE chapter, one of the most important and emotional of the entire story. Please take note. All credit goes to Doma on this boy, it's a real tearjerker what she did with our Cas.

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As his friend changed, Finas released his hold, allowing Casimiro to take the lead. He gave the small bat his space, silent for the rest of their flight. Yet as he followed, he thought. He thought long and hard about the night's occurrences, and what might be yet to come. Casimiro- he was losing control far too quickly. Though the Englishman would never say it, it was worrisome on several levels.

He agreed with Casimiro on many things, of course he did. But this, this could never be one of them. To see his best friend lose all sense of control over a single factor, it was downright excruciating to watch. To watch him suffer, to watch him hide behind the damned confidence that Finas knew was on one level real, but then it was just a shell of what he really was; all of it was painful. Because he couldn't help him. He couldn't help him let go of this rage and hatred and pain because Casimiro wouldn't let him.

He didn't want this. He never had.

The bat pulled away from him, farther, faster, and Finas increased his pace slightly as to not lose him. His eyes locked onto his friend's back, watching the muscles pull and stretch with each flap, with more strenuous force than necessary. To say he was worried was putting it mildly.

That man, that man in that form in front of him… he could be losing his sanity. And Finas might never know. Or, he would know, but he could never save him. Cas was too stubborn to let him in, too strong minded and chaotic to see what he was trying to really do. Cas thought he was too mild, but he wasn't. He could harm a person if he wanted. He would take any person's life if it meant making Cas feel better.

But taking the life of someone when they had nothing to gain… was pointless. And Finas would never harm an innocent life as long as he could help it. He couldn't see the release that it gave others, letting out rage on another life. He just couldn't see it. It wasn't his nature. He couldn't watch it, he couldn't understand or perceive it. To him, it wasn't right.

Casimiro began his descent, and Finas followed patiently, feeling the tug of the change as fingers grew longer and digits grew out, limbs formed and fur dissipated. His landing was light, almost silent, and he waited for Casimiro to stop rubbing his eye, almost feeling as though he'd caught him red-handed. He waited for him to relax, waited for him to release. He waited and studied.

Casimiro was tall and dark skinned. A natural born Italian. His hair was tanned from human years. His eyes were different. They had been for a long time. They always would be. Casimiro was a confident man, full of energy and emotion, such emotional that he let himself get away with, whether it was excitement or fury or just a playful swagger that was just so himit could fill a person with interest.

Cas was his brother. They were so very close. They kneweach other.

But he was pulling away.

The Italian straightened, and Finas paused, waiting patiently for him to speak. The man was going to vent, he always did. Finas let him.

He spoke Italian first, and Finas raised an eyebrow, his only show of emotion. The language made no sense to him. It was so alien to him, so foreign and unnatural. He couldn't respond to it.

He waited for the English to finally break through the barrier. And it did.

"Your lack of support is irritating me Finas."

Finas bit his tongue, trying not to cut it. He thought for a response, carefully, trying not to be insulting. When he finally spoke, his words were strung together neatly and with subtle message. A puzzle.

Finas seemed tense. To anyone else, he may seem his usual stoic self, but Casimiro after years knowing that man was able to see that the slightest twitch of his shoulders, the slightest change of the eyebrows or jaw was just as good as a man sneering or groaning.

Casimiro thought this was good at first.

He couldn't hurt Finas, not physically. He was his brother, his only family. He was a constant. He'd lash out at him, he had an excuse didn't he?

Casimiro was about to say something else, something along the lines of going home and starting over tomorrow. The sun will be up in a few hours. Maybe they could…

"I support your cause, Cas. But I can't support your methods."

His face was clear of emotion, as was his voice. He was trying very hard to keep it that way, to keep from letting Cas see the strain, the worry, and fear. He couldn't let him see.

He didn't know how much more he could take of this.

He didn't know how much more he could take before he had to leave. To retract completely.

It was all too much.

Cas wasn't expecting a response outside of something commenting on how he should calm down. How he should not let his emotions get to him. This seemed more cryptic than usual.

He stilled, seeming for a moment completely confused by the words. Like they were spoken in Japanese or German. "You…. Support my cause…" he repeated, as though maybe saying the same words with his own tongue would make it any less confusing. "But not my methods."

No, he said can't. Not just that he didn't support them, but that he can't.

Casimiro as of this moment was not even considering the possibility of Finas leaving him. That was like considering the possibility of fish learning to fly or the stars losing their grip on the sky and falling down to Earth.

Finas was silent for what felt like the longest time as Cas hesitantly repeated his words. He didn't respond, didn't breath or twitch; he was completely still, wondering if his friend could piece it together himself.

He could not take this. This damned waiting. He knew Casimiro was growing impatient, but it seemed that he too was tired of chasing down a goose that refused to be caught. He was sick of it, sick of running and moving, sick of not being able to settle down long enough to focus on something hewanted for once.

Finas was not a selfish man. He was no martyr, but he would freely give up his choices for someone he cared for. This didn't mean he was someone to be taken advantage of, and most people with any sense understood that. But if he felt he didn't need something, he wouldn't take it. It was like being in a lunch line and there was only one last cup of pudding and he wanted it, but someone else was grabbing for it. He always got the pudding first, but seeing the other hand, the other face, he would hand the small cup away easily, nevermind his cravings.

But there were times when he hadn't eaten all day and that would be his only lunch and- now he was getting far too literal with the analogy.

Finas closed his eyes and opened them again in that long pause, looking away from his companion. He wanted something- needed it. Needed it desperately. It was a moral situation.

He wanted out.

He needed out.

That realization shocked him momentarily, but he let the entire thought sink in. He was done with this. This moving, this doing whatever Cas wanted because he cared so much…why hadn't he seen that it was affecting him negatively?

No, Finas meant something else by those words and eventually it clicked. "Is this you trying to take over the reins Finny?" he laughed with his hands on his hips. "Come now, it's not like I've sewn your mouth shut- you have a suggestion outside of moving on or waiting for another decade then speak up! Is this about the kid? He shouldn't matter- he wasn't useful in the least and he should be dead right about now, where I intervened or not."

It struck Finas then that this couldn't work. Not that it couldn't, but that it hadn't. The relationship had been fraying at the edges. For years Finas had known that this could never end well, that he had never wanted it, but he always gave into what Cas wanted because he had no need except to protect him.

But to know that he couldn't withstand it at all anymore… well, that changed things.

"No, Casimiro." He spoke the whole name dryly. "This is not about the fledgling." Withdraw from the informal jargon, make everything formal and cold, and hopefully, it will not hurt as much.

Casimiro for the first time for what it seemed like a very long time was stricken silent. It wasn't about the fledging… But what else could possiblybe troubling Finas? He stared at his friend with a curious expression, oblivious to the upcoming bombshell.

"I can only tell you what I think. You have already heard it, but I must restate myself, as much as you don't want to hear it." Finas returned his gaze to meet Casimiro's, red eyes meeting mismatched ones. "This cannot continue—revenge and destruction gain nothing."

Did the Italian understand? Did he know that Finas couldn't take this anymore, that he could not watch his friend become more and more irritated with each failure?

Everything that affected one man, affected the other. And Finas could not take much more of it.

"I am forced to repeat myself. I support your cause. I cannot support your methods." Finas nearly broke that moment. He understood why Casimiro was like this, he understood that it caused him pain, that he was so angry.

Casimiro's eyes narrowed, already wanting to interrupt his friend and argue. Finas should know well enough by now that he didn't have the slightest interest of giving up. Not now especially, since Adelaide was rumored to be in the same city- a closer lead then he had in many, many years. To give up now would be insane- stupid and insane.

Remain taut, remain empty and emotionless.

"It is at this time that, I regret to say, this cannot continue." Look away. "Not for me, anyway." No, no, refrain from speaking on a friendly basis.

Cas's mouth that had cracked open to release sharp words, hopefully sharp enough to cut off the conversation and what he previously assumed to be the same song and dance they have had for the past few centuries , remained open, frozen in a gaping expression. His words, those sharp words were lost. He was at a loss. What… what was happening now?

The stars were falling.

They'd lost their grasp.

"F-Finas…!" The Italian stammered out- surely this was a joke! A cruel joke or a simple misunderstanding. This wasn't really happening. This wasn't happening.

But his friend's voice was cold and final.

"If you will not halt your actions, nor your hunt, I understand. But I cannot continue to partake in them."

Finas nearly winced at his words, almost wished he could take them back from the air.

But they needed to be spoken, they needed to be heard. Casimiro needed to understand. He could not take this anymore.

It had never been his fight. He had followed the leader like a good friend, but it had never been his battle, and now he realized he had never wanted to be in it. He was just doing what he did best, letting someone else take the last pudding for him.

No more.

"But I can't stop!" Casimiro blurted out, running his hands through his color stripped hair. What was happening now? "How can yo- please, pleasetell me you're joking? This is a fucking joke, right?" he asked, desperately searching his friend's expression for the slightest hint of a smirk but didn't find one.

He knew he wouldn't, and he knew the answer to the question before he asked it. Not because he had expected this- no, he had everything butexpected it. Finas was just the type to never joke. He was not the type to pull a prank, especially one as cruel as this.

What was happening?

He ran his hand again through his hair, and again, tearing his eyes away from Finas, unable to continue looking at that cold expression. "What… What are you asking… you know right? You know what you are asking of me right!" he said, pacing slightly to the edge of the building. Had he need a constant need for air, he'd be hyperventilating. This wasn't happening, it couldn't, it shouldn't.

Had he been human, this wouldn't have been nearly as huge of a deal. Life spans were short, friends came and went as easily as the seasons changed. You could get over anything, you could because life was so short and there were so many things to see. So many things to see before you die, things that could outlast you, things that, if you didn't hurry, could never be experienced unless you rushed to it before your hourglass of life ran out of its last grain of sand. Had Casimiro been human, he would have only gotten upset, upset enough to storm away, and curse his name.

But he wasn't human. He was a vampire, with eons of times on his hands. More time than he could bear to handle. He'd outlasted entire civilizations, and people, people quickly withered and died before his eyes. The world around him was a rushing river, things constantly changing, while he did not. Finas, Finas was his only constant. His only link to what was real. He was positive that without Finas, he would have been driven mad, or fuck, killed a very, very long time ago.

He'd taken Finas for granted because he was so sure he wouldn't leave.

Because he'd never left.

Because he'd been by his side for so long, he'd forgotten what it was like to be alone. He needed him. He neededhim.

And now…

What…

What was happening?

"Finas… Finas! I refuse to make such a stupid decision- I shouldn't have… Fuck!" He turned on his heel, eyes burning… with tears, yes just tears. His scarrd eye, it never turned on Finas, it wouldn't now, it wouldn't, it wouldn't… "How… Fuck!! Finas, I cannot just give up on my revenge! I can't just let that whoreget away with what she's done to me!"

His anger was building, but his mind was slipping into hysteria to do anything about it.

"She turned me, she turned me on a fucking whim! I had a life, a family-they mattered, I know they mattered… " His fingers that were tangled in his hair were starting to shake. "She laughed and said it never mattered, says that I'd forget in time, but… Finas, I don't want to forget!"

Finas knew all of this though, he knew, he knew because he'd mentioned it dozens of times in the past hundreds of years. But it was still happening, it couldn't be helped. With time, the sound of his mother's voice was buried, the name of the woman he was to marry, their faces, the moments he shared with them…

They were being forgotten.

Adelaide was winning, because soon he wouldn't even remember why he was chasing her. He'd forget his anger, but he couldn't because she killed him. No, no, it wasn't just revenge. This was justice, he needed, he required justice.

"You're asking me to choose between you and my self-worth Finas!" he cried out angrily to his friend. His hands, thrown out to his sides, curled into fists. His voice was rising, possibly, quite possibly for the first time at Finas. He was yelling at him in anger. In anger. His eye continued to burn, sizzling away at his flesh. "You, you may have thrown away your past like it was fucking garbage, and decided to live like an hollowed out shadow of a man, but I refuse to do anything like that! I am not hollow, I am not dead!" His voice rose past yelling, and well into screaming. Casimiro's good eye was dilated, unable to focus as his sanity was pulled further and further away. He was saying things he would never say, but was saying them now, out of wild anger, and betrayal. The skin continued to peel and burn away, revealing the hideous bones that did not belong to a human body.

Casimiro had lost himself in anger.

The curse now had free range over the Italian's body; it spread like wildfire, crawling down his neck, chest and arms. Casimiro's rage, yes, rageat Finas, had made Finas a target. Finas was a target. And Casimiro did something he swore to himself he'd never allow, something where he would declare he'd sooner drink blessed water than to do what he was doing right now.

His inhuman face released a demonic scream, a scream that could not come from a human voice box, as he lunged for Finas. He lunged for him, with his claws aimed for his chest. He was attacking Finas.