When Rose awoke, she instinctively knew that she wasn't alone. She also knew that the person in the room with her was no one other than Jake. She squeezed her eyes tighter together, resisting opening them. Once her eyes were open, she would have to explain herself; she would have to face what she had done. She wasn't ready for that.

She wasn't ready to look into Jake's eyes and tell him everything because she wasn't ready to lose him. Once he discovered the extent of her actions and the whole truth, he would never want to look at her again; he would never want to see her again. She had sealed herself as the ultimate enemy to the global community. She had too much power and influence over far too many people.

She didn't even want to think of the death toll; not only had New York scaled an attack at the funeral but the other branches had led their own riots in their own towns.

"I know you're awake," came the low, grim voice that belonged to Jake. "I've been sitting here for three days waiting for you to wake up."

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. He was sitting in the very corner of her room, as far away from her as he could get while still staying in the room. She ran her eyes over him, taking stock of him in a way that she hadn't since her brainwashing. He was much too thin; the circles under his eyes were blacker than his pupils and he had developed bags. His cheeks were hollow and his hair was dishevelled; his clothes were rumpled and she wouldn't be surprised if she found out he'd been sleeping in that chair. But, despite all of this and how unhealthy he looked, he was alive. He was breathing and it didn't look like she had physically damaged him in anyway.

When she looked into his eyes, for the briefest moment before he turned his gaze away, unable to look at her any longer, she saw the soul that she had scarred; the heart that she had broken.

And she had no words that could make it better because, honestly, nothing could make this better.

"If you start with 'I'm sorry', I think I'll kill you," Jake added, looking down at his hands instead of at her. "But you better start somewhere."

The tone he was taking with her made her want to cry. His voice was even, monotonous even, but it was so low that she could feel the anger simmering below every word he spoke. She could feel hatred rolling from his tongue with every syllable and she didn't know how she was going to live through this conversation.

"Is Haley all right?"

"She'll live," Jake answered simply with a shrug of his great shoulders. "She's been having nightmares. We had to tell Dad that she was assaulted on the streets to explain why she's acting like this."

"Jake, I –"

He held up one calloused finger, pausing whatever she was about to say.

"I have one question for you and I need an honest detailed answer."

"Anything," Rose swore.

"Did you kill Gramps?"

"No, I wasn't there for it. It's a complicated story, Jake, and I think it would be so much easier if I started from the very beginning."

"So start," he suggested, still not looking at her.

And so Rose did. Words tumbled from her throat, burning her like fire as she relived her actions of the past few months. With a heavy heart, she described the abuse she had suffered at Master's hands. Hindsight truly was 20/20; now, she could see how Master had manipulated her, how he had used pain and reward, to get her to bend to his way again. What she couldn't understand is how she had been so weak as to let him. She didn't understand how she could have let go of how Jake loved her, of how she loved him, and returned to the person she had been before.

No, this time it was worse.

This time she'd had loved ones (Nicholas, Kyle, Jake, Haley, even more) that had relied on her. They had not only relied on her to have clear judgement but to care for them; to make good decisions that would benefit the good of them all. She had let them all down. She had hurt every single one of them. She didn't even know where Nicholas and Kyle were, at this moment. What she knew is that she had mutilated one of them; had hunted both of them. She hoped they were safe; she hoped they would see her soon, if only for her to issue her apology to them and to rectify the situation as best she could.

Three hours later, she finally stopped talking. Her throat was parched and she had run out of words to say, except for the ones she knew would set him off. Still, they hovered on the edge of her lips, so tempting to say: I'm so sorry, Jake. I love you.

"Damn you, Rose," he whispered. "Damn you and fuck it all!" He shouted suddenly, surprising her.

"I know," she murmured because there was nothing else to say. That was it: damn her and fuck it all.

"People are dead. People I knew and loved. Not only that but there are Clan members dead as well. Did you think about that when you and your precious Master designed this plan?"

"There's always been an assumed risk of death among the Clan," Rose said automatically,

"Not in times of peace! It was supposed to –" Jake held up a hand, though not to her, but to himself. "No, that's not the point. The point right now is that I didn't see it and that terrifies me. You were such a good actress … I honestly thought that you loved me –"

"I do," Rose protested. "I do, I do, I do. I'd give my life for you, Jake. You were the first thing in my life that ever had meaning. You were the very first thing that mattered to me. There's no excuse for what I did but I wasn't acting like myself."

"How do I know that? How do I know that this isn't some ploy now?"

"I murdered the Huntsmaster," Rose pointed out, feeling slightly defensive though she knew she had no right to be. She had made mistakes and he had every right to subject her to these sorts of questions. "If this was a ploy, wouldn't he be in on it? Wouldn't that be foolhardy?"

"No," Jake answered. "I know how your mind works, especially after hearing the entirety of that story. You'd kill of everyone to make sure that you stayed on top. You like dominance and you like control; Theron only got in the way of that. He wanted to control you and, though you were letting him, you would soon come to resent it, especially if he began to act like Huntsmaster again. You would murder him, just to make sure that you remained in control."

"I-"

Jake sighed and shook his head. "Let's not, okay, Rose? It's been a lot for today."

He stood up.

"You're going?" She blurted. He couldn't leave. If he left, he might not ever come back.

"I have other things to attend to," he replied stonily.

He still hadn't looked at her properly.

"Jake … I love you."

His lips tightened into a thin line.

"That doesn't matter anymore."

And then he left her alone.

(-.-)

After Jake had left, it took her four hours to decide that she had to get out of the hospital. The nurse she had been dealing with immediately protested, saying that she needed a good two weeks in the hospital. She had, after all, undergone abdominal surgery. The blow Jake had delivered to her stomach had ripped the flesh; her organs had nearly fallen out. She had a mesh implanted to keep it all in place, as well as the stitches in her abdomen and face.

But Rose wasn't staying in the hospital. She would lose her mind if she did. So, she left. She called a taxi and, while she waited, she turned on her cell phone. She used it to get into the Clan's database and she checked to see if Nicholas and Kyle had remembered to turn off their trackers. They hadn't. If she wasn't so grateful to be able to find them, she would have chastised them for it; they were well aware that they had trackers and they knew she was an enemy. They were leaving themselves open for attack.

When the taxi arrived, she gave him the address to where Nicholas' and Kyle's were showing. He dropped her off and seemed skeptical about leaving her there. She didn't blame him. She was a pretty girl, who looked very weak especially after getting out of the hospital; and it was a seedy looking part of town. Even still, she waved him off and proceeded forward.

Her phone was telling her that she was right on top of Nicholas and Kyle, though that couldn't be right. She was standing on top of a street. She briefly thought about the fact that she could be standing on top of a sewer line and they were hiding in it, but that was immediately dismissed. She knew a lot about the sewer lines in New York and there wasn't a pipe directly underneath where she was standing. She stood, considering, and then smiled to herself. They were bright, Nicholas and Kyle, and she knew immediately what they had done.

They'd built a hideout. She didn't know when but she was certain that they had. She could see a crack in the sidewalk that served as their entrance. It was cleverly hidden and, if she hadn't been actively looking for a hideout, she would have missed it.

Now, came the difficult part. She couldn't just drop in on them without causing them to panic. She desperately wanted to talk to the two of them but couldn't risk damaging their relationship any further.

Taking a deep breath, Rose settled herself on the sidewalk, not too far from where the trapdoor was located. When they emerged, she would be here to talk to them, even if she had to wait for days.

It was nearing midnight when the trapped door squeaked open. Rose drew in a breath as Kyle peeked his head out into the night, surveying the street. He noticed her immediately and froze, like a deep caught in headlights.

"Kyle, it's all right," she said softly. "I'm not here to hurt you or Nicholas."

"How do I know that?" He shot back, but he stayed where he was.

"I guess you can't. I know you have no reason at all to trust me, and I know that you don't, but I think you should at least listen to me say that I'm sorry and to tell you something important."

"And what is it?"

"I'm quitting the Clan. I've caused far too much destruction and heartache. I can't be trusted and I can't be in control. I can only name one person as my successor; otherwise I would have put both you and Nicholas the position of Huntsmaster. I hope that you will still share the position equally, of course. You make a good team. You think logically and he thinks emotionally. It's the perfect balance in a leader."

Kyle shook his head at her. "Don't rush into things, okay? Let's the three of us go back to the Clan – once you declassify us as enemies – and then we'll discuss where to go from there. We'll assess the shape of the Clan. I don't want you to leave and have it be yet another unbeneficial, destructive decision. All right?"

Rose nodded. "How are you and Nicholas?"

"You damaged him," Kyle replied bluntly. "He hasn't been able to speak since you damaged his vocal cords. We'll both live."

Everyone kept using that phrase: I'll live; we'll live; she'll live. She had caused so much pain that they couldn't even tell her that they would be fine; that everything would return to normal for them someday. She had left them with only the most base of things: living.

"Kyle, I'm so sorry."

"You damn well better be."