There was a light slanting grey drizzle borne on a faint breeze. The air was humid and hot, steamy and thick with mosquitoes. There was a thick layer of fog hanging just above the grass, twisting through the dark woods. The world was dark, sun obscured by a thick blanket of grey clouds.

Kuronue paced the length of the porch at Topaz's house, pausing occasionally to study one thing or another. Kaito was kneeling down, fingers hesitating a few inches above the huge bloodstain on the boards.

"Law was here," Kaito said. "That's a lot of blood. Do you think he survived?"

Kuronue shook his head. "We found all those shells. If he took all those bullets, it would have taken a miracle," he said darkly.

Kaito sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "God, this is a nightmare. Just when Topaz goes out and finds someone to stay with her, this happens."

Kuronue leaned on the banister next to Kaito and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "You're forgetting that we told the girl to get a slave in case he came after her. She needs someone to protect her," he said.

"But, you know how she is. She wanted to heal him, help him, and now he's dead because of her. You know this will eat her up inside," Kaito said and peered in the broken window. "Bellamy was playing with her. You saw that thing on the floor, that slithery thing."

"A sex-slither," Kuronue supplied. "That's what Ryou said it was."

Kaito shivered. "That Bellamy is one sick man."

Kuronue looked at Kaito from the corner of his magenta eyes. "We need to catch him and then all this will be over."

Kaito met Kuronue's gaze. "It'll never be over for Topaz, though. You know that."

Kuronue grunted and swatted at a bloodsucking insect.

"She's lost him. You know she'll see it as sacrificing his life for hers and it'll tear her up."

Kuronue sighed. "There's nothing she can do. The kid is gone."

Kaito looked out into the grey drizzle and murmured, "Is he…?"

…

There was a half naked woman leaning over Law, but he couldn't see her face in the bright light behind her. He squinted, trying to make out his surroundings, but the light was blinding. Finally, he gave up and closed his eyes. His body, his skin, went hypersensitive and all he could feel were his many wounds and the woman's touch.

She was stitching him up, sewing with a practiced hand.

"Where am I?" He croaked.

She didn't say anything, just continued sewing the torn edges of his flesh.

He had been shot twice that he could remember and one of the bullets had ripped a huge tear across his stomach. The long gash was already neatly covered in a gauze pad and taped down securely, blood was spattered through the gauze.

Finally, the woman cut the thread and put down her needle with a quiet click. Then, she switched off the blinding light and Law was plunged into a deep, black darkness. He listened to the woman's retreating footsteps, to the soft slap-slap of her bare feet on concrete, and in the distance something was dripping.

Then, he was alone.

X-X-X

Topaz returned home two days later, courtesy of Kaito, and drifted aimlessly through her empty halls. Finally, she went to Law's room and lay face down in his bed. His scent lingered vaguely on the sheets as he hadn't been with her long enough to really permeate the room. It was like he had barely existed and would soon fade away completely…

As the dead often did…

Topaz felt tears burning at the backs of her eyes and squeezed them tightly shut, but the hot saline drops made slow trails down Topaz's porcelain cheeks and seeped into Law's pillow.

Something crunched beneath the pillow.

Puzzled, Topaz sat up, sniffled, and tried to dry her eyes. The tears kept coming even as she fished beneath the pillow for the source of the sound. A piece of folded paper came away in her hand with dark ink seeping through the white parchment.

Her hand shook as she opened it.

Hello Topaz, it read. Words had been crossed out. I am not pleased to inform you that your dear sweet sex slave survived my bullets, but he is still in my hands…not a safe place to be…act fast and he may might be spared or save yourself at the cost of his life. Love always, Bellamy~

Beneath Bellamy's threat was a shaky splotchy sentence: Maybe, if you really want, you can come back for me…

It was Law's handwriting.

The paper fluttered from Topaz limp fingers and hit the floor with a quiet whisper. For a moment, she choked on the stone in her throat and tears swelled blindingly on her lashes. Then, somehow, she managed to choke them back and get up from Law's bed. She hobbled to her room, tore open her closet door, and fumbled around the back of it for the loose board. Prying it up with her ragged fingernails, Topaz's thrust her arm into the space beneath. After a second of fumbling, she found the soft velvet bag she kept everything in. Hauling it out, Topaz dumped the contents in her lap.

Two guns, a short knife, and several cases of bullets tumbled out. She lifted the revolver, loaded it, and fired a round through her broken bedroom window with perfect aim. Content but unnerved by the thought of killing anyone, even someone as terrible as Bellamy, Topaz stood up and fixed the guns into shoulder hostlers that she dragged out of the hidden cubby.

Dragging her crippled leg, Topaz went to the window and looked out. Now, all she had to do was wait for Bellamy to tell her where he was.

She would save Law.

She would not allow Bellamy to hurt him.

She would not allow him to hurt her again either.

This time, when they met, she would end everything between them.

Topaz bought Law to protect her and he did, but now… to save him, she would save herself…

…

It was late. The sky was once again black with storm clouds and rain lashed down in cold slanting sheets. The wind howled like a monster through the eaves and broken windows. Topaz imagined she could smell Law's spilled blood on the porch outside. She was tired, exhausted, and her eyes burned from staring out the window at the ink-black night.

The only things moving in the night were the trees and bushes whipping in the wind and being pelted by the rain.

Topaz was sitting at the kitchen table with her crippled leg propped up on the chair in front of her. She had one gun shoved in her shoulder holster and the other lying in her lap at the ready with her fingers wrapped around the trigger guard. The bullets were waiting in their boxes on the table, gleaming dimly in the pale yellow light of the candle she had lit. She took a long drag on the tumbler of water she had poured.

Finally, something moved in the dark.

A small dirty brown figure approached the sliding glass door, head down, feet dragging. When it reached the door, a twig-thin arm with horrible scars around the skinny bony wrists pressed sheet of paper against the door.

Topaz immediately bolted up and hurled the door open.

The figure didn't move and didn't fight back, even as Topaz leaped on it and tackled it to the ground. They both went sprawling in the mud, but the figure lay limp and un-protesting beneath Topaz. The rain pummeled them both, whipping at Topaz's back and smashing her hair into her face. The damp locks stung and lashed at her eyes, blinding her.

Finally, Topaz wrenched herself up on her elbows and stared down into the figure's face.

Immediately, her stomach heaved and she wretched.

It was a young woman, a young female slave, wearing a limp burlap dress that was filthy and threadbare. Like most slaves, even Law, her body was skeleton-thin and covered in scars. Her hair was dark and sticky with blood and sweat and semen, hanging in stringy strands. Her eyes were sunken way back into her head and framed by thick black bruises. One eye had a huge gash across the brow bone and it was swollen almost shut. The other was clear guilty anguished brown. Her nose was crooked, broken, swollen, with a patch of thick dried blood beneath her nose. Her lips were cracked and split and then, sewn shut with heavy black thread.

Silently, she raised the sheet of soaked paper and pressed it against Topaz's chest.

Reflex had Topaz wrapping her fingers around the sheet and then stumbling back from the slave. The young female got up slowly and painfully and strode swiftly back into the dark woods. Topaz barreled back into the house as fast as she could, slipped on the wet tile floor, and slammed her chin into the table. Stars danced in front of her eyes, covered her spotty vision, and then she blacked out.

…

Topaz came around a few minutes later with her face in a puddle of blood and rainwater on the ice-cold kitchen tile. She had bitten her tongue when she fell and her mouth was flooded with blood. Spitting, she scrambled to her feet and pulled the sliding glass door shut, stopping the onslaught of rain pouring in on the floor. Her leg was numb and tingling.

She slumped into her chair and spread the wet piece of paper on the kitchen table.

The ink was running and spreading bright colors from the black ink. It read plainly in loose cursive: Something moves within the night that is not good and is not right. Hurry!

Topaz's head snapped up to look out the sliding glass door at the exact moment something slammed into it. The glass shattered into a mess of spider web cracks and then imploded. Shards of glass rained down on Topaz and she quickly shielded her eyes.

Then, a hulking dark shape stepped through the broken doorway.

"No…!"

X-X-X

Questions, comments, concerns?