The shot rang. From around the crowd, various people let gasps of air escape their mouths. They covered them quickly in fear that they might be on that platform next. Eleanor turned away, wondering why she had made herself watch. The pain would fuel her anger, her hatred for her brother. She was certain of it. But there was no anger. Only sadness and disappointment. And she could only imagine…

Ben. That's right; Ben was standing next to her. His fists clenched in rage. It was safe to say the anger he had was enough for them both. Maybe it was best that she had kept a level head. Or perhaps they would both be unloading their weapons right now, as Ben was doing that very second. She reached out and clutched his arm. He pulled away rather aggressively. She grabbed him again.

"Ben," she hissed quietly.

He turned to face her. His eyes were glossed over with tears and his jaw was clenched tight. She did not let go her grasp on him.

"We have to go."

Afraid to let him go, she loosened her grip on his arm and took his hand. He took her lead through the crowd. The people around them were still standing in shock not paying attention to the wanted criminals brushing by. Eleanor led him down an alleyway where Ben snatched his hand back.

"You can't make me just stand here and allow this," Ben snapped.

"What are you going to do, hmm? Run up there and take vengeance? You'll only get yourself killed."

"Why should I listen to you? We've been going through this oppression for years while you sat comfortably in the castle. The only time you decided to come out of hiding was when he decided to destroy some of your dreams all the meanwhile ours were already gone. And you think you're the same as us?"

Eleanor had lost her temper. She grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him firmly against the brick wall. She was much stronger than she looked. And Ben had forgotten entirely about it. The brick was pushing into his shoulders. And it hurt the longer she pressed him against it. She looked at him, her eyes burning. He swore he even heard her gauntlets crackle in anticipation.

"Don't you dare do this to me," she growled at him. "Not now."

She released him suddenly and he had struggled to keep his balance. Without looking back, Eleanor made her way back down the alley. He could have walked away. And he stood there watching her thinking about how he could. But when she stopped down the alley, turning her heard only slightly to glance at him, he saw something glistening on her cheek. So out of guilt, he followed.

It was dark and quiet. And to be honest, he liked it. The window sat just above him, letting in enough sunlight in the room he sat sulking in. The chair he sat in and the table he leaned on were of rotted wood. It was easy to say it was never a beautifully made chair. It was poorly put together with numerous amounts of nails added in various in an attempt to hold the legs together. Ben knew if he leaned on it any long, it would crumble underneath him. The thought had only occurred to him once as he sat down. But it had not lingered in his thoughts for long.

Behind the metal door Eleanor stood. Her hand rested on the handle shaking as she contemplated turning it. Her mind raced as she wondered what would be on the other side. The man who always stood so strong in the face of danger. The man that always smiled and always made others smile in difficult times. The man who made her laugh even when she thought she didn't need it. His comfort, whether he realized he gave it or not, was enough to keep her sane. To keep reminding her she was a person. He was falling apart in there as the best part of his life had vanished right in front of his eyes.

He could hear her fingers rapping on the metal as she leaned against the door. The handle turned and he knew who it was without even needing to look. It was clear she was the only person who would enter. No one else could have the courage or empathy to attempt to speak with him. She knelt beside him, her hands folding over each other with her elbows on her lap. She took one good look at his face and then looked up to the window.

"I know you need this," she began to say. "Everyone does... The quiet moment before the storm. A time when you can think of a plan. We all know what it's like."

She paused to allow him some time to reply. Although she knew he probably would not. It was her only attempt to get him on his feet. And she wrung her hands nervously, trying not to anger him.

"But we need you. We don't have any more time to give. It needs to be now."

Ben nodded very slowly. He knew very well what it was she meant. And he turned his head slightly, catching her out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you do?" he asked her.

Eleanor was caught off guard. She didn't quite understand what he meant to ask. But it suddenly struck her when she remembered sitting alone in her room that night. She sat, very much like he did, clenching the arm of her sofa. Squeezing it until her knuckles hurt.

"I ran," she answered. "And even if Walter had not come to me that night, I still would have run. If I didn't have him or anyone else to guide me, I would not have made it this far. And you have no idea how incredibly grateful I am for that."

Ben sat forward in his chair while Eleanor was desperately attempting to read his mind. It was a task she did not have time for. Walter and Paige were awaiting their return in the war room. They needed Ben now that Swift… now that Swift was gone. Ben was the only person who could take his place. She could promise everything would be alright. She could promise him things would change. That they could make a difference. But that is not what he wanted to hear. And she knew that very well.

"But you aren't going to run, Ben," she finally said. "You are going to get up. You are going to load your rifle. And you are going to fight with me."

She was right. She was absolutely without a doubt in his mind right about it all. He should take revenge on those that had done him wrong. To avenge the death of the person he looked up to most. It was what Swift deserved. It was what he deserved. If there was anything Swift had taught him during his time as a soldier, it was that there should be no more running. The real question was why couldn't he move from his chair? Perhaps he thought with Eleanor arriving, things would be easier. That she would somehow manage to find a solution that didn't involve so much death. Or perhaps he was too afraid to get up. That the answer he was looking for would not be waiting for him when he walked out that door.

"The answer to your question," Eleanor said, as if to read his mind, "is yes. I did love him."

Ben lifted his head, looking at the ceiling damp and dripping above him. The room was cold and he was tired of sitting in one spot. He had been sitting there, wallowing in his own self-pity, relying on somebody else to coax him from his chair. She had loved and lost just as much as he had. Yet, she was still next to him. She was strong as ever holding his hand and trying to pull him up. It was admirable that she could offer her support while showing him her most vulnerable spot.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.

Eleanor smiled sweetly. "Don't be."

Ben entered the sewers tunnels first, Elle following close behind him. There was nothing but the sound of their boots splashing against the water until they approached the metal bars signaling the end of the tunnel. There was a hole big enough for the two of them to slide through and as they did, they couldn't help but notice how deathly quiet it was in Industrial that night. Eleanor went to step forward when she noticed Ben was stopped.

"Just me and you tonight, then?" he said.

Eleanor knew her face must have seemed askew as he clapped her on the shoulder and stepped next to her. He cleared his throat and looked behind him down the tunnel to reassure that there was no one else.

"I uh… I wanted to thank you. For setting me straight back there. That wasn't exactly something I've done a lot in my life."

"Don't worry about it," Eleanor replied.

"Right," Ben agreed, glad to take the opportunity to make things less awkward. "I'll follow your lead, my liege."

"Don't do that," she squinted at him as she turned to walk away.

"I better start now if I'm to get used it," he said following her.

"No. You don't."

"Your highness?"

"No."

"Eleanor the Great?"

"I… I'll think about it."

"Maybe we should ask these two gentlemen, then?" he gestured towards the guards in purple standing in front of the gate.