A/N at the end. I do not own The Forbidden Game trilogy.

If Jenny could, she's punch that snarky tone straight out of Julian's voice. Maybe then it wouldn't feel like a knife lodged itself into her heart and started twisting deeper in with every word he spoke. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"Jenny scoffed at his question. You heard me, bastard. His back was turned away from her, but his posture left little to imagination as to his goddamn expression. God, she could clearly picture that obnoxious, suave smirk basking in his newfound victory.

"You heard me," Jenny growled. The uncharacteristic tone did not fit her voice. Or her throat. She'd already cried herself hoarse at this point; why should she cause herself more pain? Besides, no matter how much verbal venom she spat at him, it still wouldn't change her mind or her predicament. God, how she wished there was another way, but after Summer… I've got to do this. Jenny slumped her chin against her knees and pulled her legs closer to her chest. Do this for her. For everybody. This was one of those moments when Jenny was really thankful that she didn't wear a lot of makeup like Audrey. But, God, I don't want to. It was shocking to her that her eyes could numb out the burn after a while.

Julian laughed, light yet mocking, and at that, Jenny felt a twinge of annoyance. Actually, that could've just been a twitch from her shoulder or her arms, or her calves. The Game had not been kind to her muscles, and if Julian's "gracious gift" of an invisible clock was any bit accurate, it was early morning. No one should make life changing decisions in this condition, but her hand's literally being forced by a demon from a mythology that shouldn't even be real.

"Ha, no," Julian said, raising a slender, pale hand and smoothing out a wrinkle in his shirt—Wipe that smile off your face. I can't stand it—still facing away from Jenny. "I need you to repeat yourself."

Jenny burrowed her forehead against her knees, as if curling into a ball would make this awful place and decision vanish. "I can't," she strained; Jenny never sounded so helpless before. "I don't want to." Why couldn't the floor just swallow her alive like it did with Summer?

"No, really. You must repeat your consent." Is he looking at me yet? "Once you make a promise to someone—" Something "—like me or in a Game, you can't take it back. Jenny," Julian paused, whether for emphasis—Dramatic effect, huh—or for more vulnerable reasons, she didn't know, "I need you to be sure on this."

Jenny raised her head but didn't look up; seeing is believing, after all. She didn't want to see the Victorian dollhouse or hallway or whatever scenery surrounded her because it sure as hell wasn't her living room. She didn't want to look at Julian, whom was literally the devil she's going to sell her soul to. She didn't want to look up and have her consciousness accept that all this was real and not some ludicrous dream. Not even my mind could conjure this, though.

So, instead of facing her waking nightmare, Jenny chose to drop her head, cradling its weight between her knees. Who knew, maybe if her legs applied enough pressure, she'd pass out. Jenny would technically still lose and stay here, but it would take away the choice, the ability to say no and mess up her friends' and Tom's lives forever. Maybe they were already damaged just from being here, accepting that the darkness has a name, and it would all be her fault.

His fault the strong part of her mind shouted, but her anxieties and exhaustion and grief overpowered the voice. It's her fault they're in this godforsaken place, and it'll be her that'll get them out.

With that thought clouding her judgement, she took a shaky breath—her last, free breath—and glanced up, slow and cautious. Julian's front still turned away, but half of his face was visible. The orange firelight from nearby candlesticks and fixtures painted itself on it, leaving harsh shadows all over him. When had the light dimmed? Jenny thought, noting the way the blue of his irises reflected the fire, making them almost a smoky lavender. Though in all honesty, Jenny found it hard to tell. Her own were blurred from crying, the constant rubbing away of each tear's salty trail down her cheeks, and the blacks of his eyes had swelled.

Jenny vaguely remembered someone explaining body cues and something with pupil dilation, but she couldn't recall any of them. Not completely, but whatever it meant can't be anything good. He looked feral; Jenny forced herself to suppress the shiver running its cold finger down her spine.

"Once you promise something here or in a Game, you can't take it back." A deal, huh? Of course it's a deal, but perhaps…

"I agree on a condition," she started, her voice slow and sure, spelling out her message and stopping for a moment when she saw Julian turn his body toward her whilst lifting an eyebrow. "They all go home. Including Summer." She deserves a body to bury, at least.

The smile that grew on his lips surprised her. "You're catching on already," Julian teased. He took a step towards Jenny, and once again, she had to restrain herself from reacting physically. It was silly, really, he seemed to know all about her. Surely he'd know the instant she's uncomfortable.

He crouched down, joining her on the same eye level. God, Jenny wanted to look away. A new knot in her stomach tightened and twisted; those egg rolls from the party no longer agreed with her. Yea, keep telling yourself that.

Reaching for Jenny's hand, the same one he stole permission to touch back in the Erlking's cave, Julian rubbed his thumb over the tense muscles, smoothing out the tremors she neglected to notice or care about. It's strange, how calm that one part her could feel while the rest of her feared for its life. He shifted his gaze and focused on the hand. His expression was hard yet soft. Sober: that's the word.

After what seemed like minutes but was only seconds, Julian lifted the hand towards his lips and planted a light kiss on its back. "I accept your offer." All the rough edges of the sober expression washed away when he looked back at her. There was no smirk, no condescending raised brow; Jenny couldn't get any sense of superiority from him unlike earlier through the game. "We have a deal," Julian repeated.

He looked relieved. Oh, so relieved. Julian pulled her tired body towards him, holding her in his arms tightly until everything from that night came crashing down as if for the first time. He held her, and she cried. It hurts; it all hurts. Jenny gave into the suppressed urge from before she stepped foot into a Dee's nightmare. And though she won't remember, her own arms snaked around Julian's waist, her hands latching themselves onto the back of his black shirt.

A/N: TFW you on a writing roll! Woot woot ~3~

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