The two sat opposite each other in Eleanor's sitting room, the only sound the crackling fire. Benjamin - who from this point on shall be called Stephen, or else - waited impatiently, staring straight at her. She returned his gaze, hers sad and sullen, as she recounted the tragic tale.

"He never stopped..."

iT WAS Victor, returning once more with a single red rose. Lauralie watched from her window, retreating back into the darkness. Eleanor opened the door, ripped the rose from his hand and slammed the door in his face.

"He kept persuing her."

Her meaning Lauralie.

"but she rejected him. Every day he would ccome, red-rose in hand, holding out a sparkling diamond engagement ring. Every day he was sent away."

"What happened?" Stephen questioned sadly, voice cracking ever so slightly.

It was a dark night, mid-October, seven months after Benjamin Blake had been imprisoned. The doorbell rang. Eleanor had rushed to answer it, only to see Alister Hinezburg standing in the doorwa. Allister was Victor's right-hand man, a fat fellow with crooked yellow teeth and a Dumbledore-style beard that considered himself quite a hit with the ladies. Lauralie had descended the staircase, holding a sobbing Belladonna in her arms.

"What did he want?"

"It's Victor!" he had cried. "He feels guilty about all the trouble he has caused you. It must be terrible for you dear, knowing that your husband is a murderer."
He had flashed Lauralie a wicked smile, winking to her as though she knew something...

Eleanor quite wisely left that part out.

"Victor would like to invite you to dinner, my dear."

"I protested," Eleanor continued, dazed. "But she was ademant. I knew it was hopeless arguing with her...when she returned, she was a state. Her clothes were ripped, her face was flushed, and the poor girl was sobbing.

He knew what that meant.

"GOD! NO!" he realized aloud, the horrifying image clouding his thoughts. "Would no-one have mercy on my darling Lauralie?"
Eleanor had a funny look in her eyes then, as she spoke the next part. "And he's got your daughter..."
"He?" Stephen screamed furiously. "VICTOR?"
"i put up a fight, but Alister knocked me out cold. But I suppose even he had a conscience tucked away somewhere. He took her in, adopted her like his own."

"That's it," he breathed heavily, eyes glazed over. "That is IT! Let them quake in their boots, Alister and Victor, for their hour has come..."
Eleanor stood beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You're goingn to...to get them?" she whispered breathily, recieving a dark nod in response. Her lips pursed slightly, she didn't quite know how to react to this, but she knew that whatever happened from now forwards, they were in this together.

He could see it, too. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her tone. He knew that whatever he went through, she would stand loyally at his side. He knew that their unspoken agreement, their truce of silent trust formed in the courtroom, still stood as solidly as the Great Wall of China. Little did they both know what terror was to come, for them, Victor, and the city of London.

"So what are you gonna do now?" her voice was soft and gentle, not as gentle and delicat as that of his Lauralie, but still strangely soothing.

"I don't know."
"Well, do you have any money?"
"No money."
"Then how are you gonna live, hmmm Let alone get to Victor?"
"He's just a Headmaster."
"WRong," Eleanor shook her head. "They've promoted him. He's head of the Board of education now."
"I don't care."
"Listen too me, you great useless lump!" Eleanor shook him firmly, putting him in his place. "How. are. you. going. to. live?"

she repeated her question slowly, blankly, with a slightly condescending tone. She spoke to him then in the same manner you would a small child, or a mentally disabled adult.

"On the streets," he stated simply, starting on his way out.

"OH NO YOU DON'T!"

She gripped his waist tightly, ignoring the tingling, pleasant sensation being so close to him brought. "You're not going anywhere, especially not the streets! You can live here."
"I don't have any money," he reminded her.

"Who cares? You're my best friend, for crying out loud! You did so much for me, now let me do something for you."
"I don't - "
"Then it's settled, come on!"
Ignoring his protests, she gripped his arm firmly and lead him up the creaky wooden staircase that stood before them, pushing open a small white door. That door, the doorway to his past, the window to his soul, the place of his fondest memories...