The door closed softly behind Cassian, as he stepped into the empty hallway. It was cold out here, it had been cold since he rose from Jizabels bed, dressed himself, and walked to the door... but not before giving one last look to the lump under the blanket that was the doctor, of course.

He exhaled, another fight playing out in his conscious as he stared wistfully at the knob. Really, it wasn't too late to just walk back in, burn the note, and crawl back into bed, ready to wake the next morning with Jizabel in his arms.

But there was nothing for them here. He could see it now, now more so than ever before. If he stayed, they would both die here. The hazy part of his mind liked the idea. It was beautiful, really, like some shakespearian tragedy. If death would take them both, at least they could fall in eachothers arms...

But even with less than a month left 'till the end, he knew the Cardmaster would give them no peace. If Cassian stayed, he knew that man would find out soon enough... He could even find out regardless....

"Damnit, Jizabel..." He hissed, his voice choking up as his fist hit the wall, sliding down until it fell back to his side.

Even if it wasn't the doctors fault, the same memories played out in the theatre of his mind, repeating themselves over and over. Jizabels lips crushing against his own, each soft moan... Every sound, every image, every word he spoke, everything he'd confided in him.

"Don't... Leave me..."

He swallowed, tearing himself away from the closed door and continuing down the hall. I should have left him right then...

"Secret rendezvous in the dead of night....?"

Cassian gasped, looking up ahead as he came to the stairwell, to see the source of the voice.

"...Now... Why does this not surprise me?" The last words were more of a sigh, as The Fool shifted his position on the rail, apparently contemplating the idea of sliding down it to the lower floor, an idea which he finally rejected, for the time being.

"You... What are you-"

"Observing..." He muttered, dangling one leg off the rail. "It's what I do.... You are the one I should ask that question to."

"Leaving," Cassian answered, with little hesitation.

"To the Opera?"

Cassian raised an eyebrow, somewhat perplexed by this statement until he remembered his appearance, and just what slime he was wearing the skin of.

"What, No, I-"

A chilling laughter rang through the chamber, as the smaller figure slid gracefully off the rail, onto the floor where Cassian was standing. The sound of the laughter itself was not so much menacing, as it was... disturbing. There was almost something unearthly about the Owl, something whimsical that made even the Deadly Dolls seem perfectly ordinary. Perhaps it was simply his state of mind that made him come across this way.

"Oh, no... I jest. I know that you're not him. Despite the body, you lack the demeanor. Though you're still just as difficult for me to take serious....."

"Strange.... Since you're The Fool."

"Touche, yet hardly relevant... Where was it you said you were going?"

"I didn't."

"Oh?"

Cassian scowled, stepping past White Owl and onto the stairs.

"I don't have time..." He muttered under his breath, ignoring The Fool as he picked up his violin, holding it gingerly as he slunk back onto the rail, lifting the bow just as Cassian reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Escaping?" He chimed in again, obviously unable to let the subject go.

"No." He said firmly, as he continued on his way.

The owl sighed, his fingers on the strings as he lowered the bow, the first notes ringing through the otherwise silent mansion.

Let him do as he pleases...

He thought, his fingers dancing a melancholy waltz over the strings.

Let them each drop out of this story one by one....

He drew the bow across the strings, his other hand shaking, causing those strings he manipulated to weep.

...He'll be waking up soon.

He played the last note, lifting his head to look out the closest, dingy, window at the dim morning light, staring wistfully as the dust waltzed through the air.

"...It is a shame, really," He remarked with a small frown, before sliding all the way down the rail, landing gracefully on the tile beneath him.

A certain pyromaniac yelped as he was pushed roughly against the wall, books and trinkets falling from a nearby shelf as he hit the chipped paint and wallpaper.

"Bloody hell, you're stronger then you look!"

"When?!"

"So, I see I've got you riled then-"

"When did you speak with him?!"

At this moment it had only been five minutes since the arsonist had left the hall and walked down to his own quarters, three since Jizabel finally followed after him, and fifty seconds since the aforementioned had entered said arsonists room, and pinned him against the wall, self control just out of his reach, given his current anger and, to be frank, painful confusion.

"...I didn't."

Jizabel took a sharp breath, realizing he hadn't done so for the past minute, his hand shaking slightly.... which would have given the arsonist the perfect chance to push him away and run off, had he actually noticed the doctors strength wavering.

"Then..." he swallowed, his grip on the mans shoulder, and neck, tightening once more, "...No, you did-"

"Knock it off already! You know I'm not lyin'."

Jizabel scowled, letting his hands, and knife, drop from the arsonists neck. The younger man swallowed, rubbing his throat and taking this chance to get a few steps away from the doctor.

"Fine, It had lost it's amusement anyway..." He remarked, before pulling a stained envelope from his vest. Jizabels eyes narrowed, as he stabbed the knife into the soft wood of the table behind him.

"...What is...."

"Tch, For some 'intelligent' scientist you ask too many questions..." He muttered, stepped forward with the envelope still in his outstretched hand, "...Take the bloody thing, I don't want it."

The older man scowled, viscously snatching it from the arsonists hand....which said arsonist immediately withdrew afterword, taking another nervous step back from the doctor.

Jizabel turned it over slowly, his vision snapping straight back to the arsonist after he read his name across the front, in what he knew to be Cassians writing, the ink barely legible due to some liquid spilled on it, presumably tea. The arsonist looked away, avoiding the doctors eyes as he took yet another step towards the door. Now would have been a fine time to sneak out, but the idea of seeing the doctors reaction had sparked his interest. He never did know when to back off, not in his entire life.

Jizabel took a slow breath, before sliding the envelope open and withdrawing the damaged note.

"Although I do not know if this will serve as any condolence, I will still apologize.

The last thing I ever wished to do was hurt someone who had already been hurt enough. If I said I did not do this out of fear I would be lying. I was, and am, terrified of what will happen.

I do have a plan. Please, bear with this. I promise that I will come back before this month is out. And that I'll take you with me. My only request is that you forgive me for what I've done, and that...

Your life is far more important then you'll ever know, promise me, don't toss it away for that mans sake.

I know what I've done is the wrong choice. I know that I should just take you and go

but I'm hardly thinking straight as I write this

Stay alive, in body and mind

Wait for me

I love you. I'll return for you. I am so sorry, my Jizabel

Cassian"

A melancholy smile spread over the doctors face, as he silently folded the letter closed again, his eyes lifting back up to the arsonist.

"What...." He muttered, his hand toying with the door knob, "You actually think he's coming back, don't you....?" He chuckled, a sound which Jizabel had grown quite tired of in the past week, "You're just about as-"

"I don't think he's returning."

"What?" His laughter was cut short by the iciness of the doctors tone, those harsh eyes far different now from the expression he'd seen on his face a moment before.

"You misunderstand me completely. I hardly would say that he is returning, although such things as this," he held the letter up, between his middle and forefingers, "...give one a sense of closure."

A coldness returned to his grin, as he brushed the letter across a candle on the table, the flames caressing and enveloping the edge of the paper.

"I can almost understand your fascination..." He remarked, suddenly drawing it away from the candle, blowing out the flame in the process, "...It is rather beautiful."

And with out another word, he drew his knife from the table.

"....Jizabel?"

A silence fell over the room as the doctor looked up from the arsonist, who was once more pinned to the wall, this time of his own means, for the knife that had been hurled towards his head, which was now embedded in the wall, still kept him paralyzed in fear. Alexis stood in the doorway, regarding the whole scene in an irritated manner, but saying nothing more about it other than 'I would prefer you play nicer with your toys.'

...Which Jizabel seemed to take into consideration, as he withdrew the knife from the wall, flashing a final glare towards the arsonist, who took the message, before he walked back towards the table, leaning against it in a casual manner in hopes of hiding the half burnt letter he'd left on it.

Although, really, it hardly mattered, it was obvious to him now that the foolish little fire starter had been passing information directly to the Cardmaster. If not for him, not of this would have happened.... No, he reminded himself, none of this would have happened had he simply not slept with Cassian.

"Now that your little scuffle is over, would you mind getting to business like I wished," he said suavely, drawing a short sword from his coat and offering the handle to Jizabel, "...Mikaila could use a visit, Jizabel."

And with little more than a bow he took the misericorde, and left the room silently

"Hmm... An interesting turn of events, I would say," The Cardmaster remarked, his chin resting on his hand as he sit idly in his throne. " ...My dolls all seem to find minds of their own, it would seem..."

His last remark ending with a cruel glance to Jizabel, who deepened his bow immediately, as if trying to escape the coming storm.

"Well, it was not as if I really cared for her to return," He paused, pondering whether to excuse his son or not, before another question came to his mind. "...And what of the arsonist?"

"Deceased," Jizabel said blankly, keeping his eyes on the floor. Riffael shifted, leaning his elbow against the Cardmasters chair in a bored fashion, though The Moon was steely as always. The Cardmaster himself, however, was now smiling like the demon he was.

"My, My, you have a bad habit of loosing your assistants. It really is not efficient for us to be replacing your little trump cards left and right."

"I am capable of working on my own, Cardmaster. They are a hinderance to me, for the most part..."

"I did not say that you could speak."

Jizabel twitched slightly, as The Cardmaster rose from his chair, anticipating whatever punishment was in store. However, his father walked past him, The Tower and The Moon accompanying him to the door.

"You may let yourself out..." He murmured.

The doctor exhaled, staring off into the doorway in a blank state, almost expecting Alexis to turn right around and accuse him of some sin or another, but he had simply left it at that. Given what words he'd exchanged with Cain today, what secrets that incompetent assistant had turned over to him....

He stood finally, pulling the half burnt letter from his pocket as he made his way down the long corridor.

Given what had happened today, he couldn't decide if his father letting him off what a good thing or not. He could have used the agony to distract him. His heart skipped a beat, as he remembered what had happened the previous time Alexis had shown him his place...

No, it was a good thing he was let off this time. His next actions would just lead to The Cardmaster heightening his punishments, and although that numbness of his had set back in after Cassians abandonment, he still didn't like the idea of that man taking away anything else. Though what was left to be taken away, he really didn't know.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the letter again. When he held it over the flame it had been nothing more then a cover, really, he had been hoping there was something more to the note, perhaps an invisible ink? That would have had a reaction to heat...

"Although I don't know if this will serve as any condolence, I will still apologize.

The last thing I ever wished to do was hurt someone who had already been hurt enough. If I said I did not do this out of fear I would be lying. I was, and am, terrified of what will happen.

I do have a plan. Please, bear with this. I promise that I will come back before this month is out. And that I'll take you with me. My only request is that you forgive me for what I've done, and..."

No, there was nothing else to it at all.

"Your life is far more important then you'll ever know, promise me, don't toss it away for that mans sake."

Life, as a whole, is meaningless, Cassian....

"I know what I've done is the wrong choice. I know that I should just take you and go

but I'm hardly thinking straight as I write this"

He ran his finger over the ink. It was obvious by the spacing, and the state of his handwriting, that he'd paused several times in the middle of the letter, and most likely changed his mind on more than one occasion, and were those....?

"Stay alive, in body and mind

Wait for me

I love you. I'll return for you. I am so sorry, my Jizabel

Cassian"

A lump formed in his throat, as he continued to trace his finger over that last bit, a few select lines were the ink had run.

They do look like tear drops....

He shook his head, almost crumpling it before yet another conflict hit him, and he unfolded the crumpled edges, proceeding to fold it back up again neatly before gently sliding it into the breast pocket of his coat.

You could have at least written more...

He paused, coming to the main hall.

Why wasn't there another message...?!

That small place left in his heart wanted more. An address? A plan? Somewhere he could go, something. No. It wasn't like Cassian to do that, he wasn't that resourceful. But something else was drifting over his senses, pushing that question he kept asking from his head. His eyes narrowed, as he looked up to the banister that The Fool had chosen to roost on. His bow slid off the strings, as his right arm dropped down to hang loosely at his side, his left still holding the violin at his chin.

"Well, beautiful turn of events today, correct?" He smiled, though whether the expression reached to his eyes was speculation, since those dark glasses never came off, "I hear that our little pyrotechnic went up in flames."

"...Yes. He did."

White owl chuckled. "Well, I hope he is pleased with himself. Not everyone gets a death so suited to their tastes."

Jizabel remained where he was, his eyes locked on the bow in Owls hand. "Somehow, I fail to find his incompetence amusing."

The Fool shrugged, lifting the bow back to the strings, a soft hum echoing, thanks to the rooms almost perfect acoustics, as it touched.

"That is because you fail to find anything amusing, Death," He drew the bow over the first string, then after, a short pause, he began to play again, the melody soon ringing down every hall way... Somewhat a common sound in Delilah. Perhaps it was his only way of saying that he even existed, of saying that he even wanted people to care for that existence....

"You know... I'm only here to watch this chaos unfold... and how that story ends has nothing to do with our Cardmaster," He spoke quietly, though never ceasing his playing, "...He only controls his pawns to such an extent..."

Jizabels dull vision snapped into focus as he stared back up at the fool, who's melody had changed it's rythm to something just abit less mournful. "If you say something like that, aren't you intervening?"

White Owl glanced down, still playing, but managing to shrug ever so slightly. Truthfully it was not intervening, so much as... a small hope to spice up the symphony? Things had been so dull here the past few days.

Even if he wishes to....

The doctors eyes fell back to the floor, and he muttered something bellow his breath before walking out the main door, down into the streets.

Even if he really wishes to....He is not coming back for me.

---

I wish I had a way of actually writing what White Owl played as he played it. But, if you want to look up music and re-read both scenes....Well, Chopin's Nocturne Op.9 No.2 sounds simply amazing on a violin. Somehow, it sounds sadder on the violin.... Probably 'cause string instruments seem to amplify every emotionnnn... P:

That, and they make everything sound frickin' epic.

Seriously. Go look up The String Quartet tribute to Nirvana, and play Smells Like Teen Spirit. It's so epic on stringsssss. D;

Also, Fall Out Boys song Dance, Dance. It's awesome on the violin. Also, I wrote the last bit with Owl while listening to nothing but The Vitamin String Quartet. It was fun. The two songs that played when I was writing it were Mr. Brightside, originally by the Killers, and Good Riddance, by Green Day.

It's been so long since I last used song lyrics in this fic, but consider this the same sort of thing.

I originally intended the first section with Cassian and the last bit with Jizabel to mirror eachother, in terms of what White Owl was doing but... then things changed for some odd reason.

Loves to you all, and sorry for the uber slow updates. Damn, this chapter sucked. It's mostly filling in the space 'till I get were I want it to be. I promise Cassian will exist again soon. D;