Alex lay back on her pillow, breathing deeply.

"Hurts doesn't it?" Justin emptied his pockets onto the counter.

"What?"

"Your conscience, it hurts right now, right?"

Alex shrugged, "I just pretend that Ariel will be okay."

The young mother rubbed her stomach. She missed being a mother. Xander was home with his grandparents, no doubt worried about her location. She would get back to him though.

"Why are you helping me?"

"What are you helping me?"

Alex groaned in confusion, "Why am I doing this?! What's wrong with me?! Who would do this?!"

Justin put his hand on her shoulder, "You came to me because you needed my help. The good news is that I have clue as to who took your kid. We need time though, and that's going to make this tough."

Alex nodded wearily, "Justin... what about your conscience?"

Her brother's eyes bored into hers, "Mine? Really? Hmmm... Well... It's like that wound you gave me, it just hurts all the time, never sealing, never healing. What's some virgin on a pile of destruction? Of all the girls I've hurt..." He paused, looking down almost like... he was ashamed, "I have done some horrible things. You're the worst. Really. But, I've done so much more."

She pretended not to hear his voice crack just a little bit.

"When I think back on what I was? What I did? I feel... something I can't even explain. It's like there's a hole in my chest, and no matter what I will ever do, it just stays empty."

She nodded, "Yeah, we're messed up. Nothing will ever make me not that girl in your closet. Sometimes when I'm alone-" Alex looked at her brother/lover/something, and decided he would be the only one who would understand, "That place, that jail, was a nightmare. But it seems more real than my life. I love my children more than anything, but... sometimes I don't feel like I'm not actually out of there." She closed her eyes, "I can still feel the whip, the bed, the..." She kept herself from talking about it.

Her time under his control had been horrible, but not everything was that bad. There were satin sheets, and, only when she had performed as a decent slave, she had received some small rewards. Somehow her horrifying time there was almost... fair. Like hell, it only accepted those who were supposed to go there. Or heaven. Even as Alex loathed every minute there, that place seemed to become like her habitat. Her home. What was she? How could any girl think like she did? It was disgusting, and unnatural. Why was she unhappy to be free?

"Alex," He used her name so rarely. Slut, filth, trash, whore, slave, bitch, etc. Those were names she was comfortable with. The insults she could take. but her name? It opened her eyes, forcing them into contact with him, "Did you ever think that our life before the journal was fake? That... living together and fighting all the time, was just us being afraid?"

"What's wrong with just being afraid?"

He was too close to her, "Nothing."

Alex nodded and rolled on her side to get away from those eyes so much like hers. Truthfully, she was scared he would use her tonight. The threat of the pain kept coming to the forefront of her mind. He could strike at any second, really. Beat her down, use her, call her filth just like she knew he would. Mock her. Insult her inability to protect her child. Break her.

...Then it would be over.

...

...and only then would she feel any better.

But truthfully, Alex needed it. She needed him to be the villain, because if he wasn't, she was. If he had not handed over Ariel, who would have? That was the only thing keeping Alex sane; Justin was the villain here, and the only reason he was still the bad guy was so that she would not have to be.