The soft orange glow that lit up my eyelids woke me up the next morning, not the sharp burning of the bracelet on my wrist. I touched the healing tissue that encircled it while wiping the tiredness from my mind, and remembering the events of the previous day. I almost shuddered.

Lovino's bed was empty and made, meaning he hadn't come back since he left me last night to watch Beilschmidt.

I climbed out of the bed, pulling the covers up behind me to tuck back into place atop the pillow, and walked quickly to the dresser to pull on the silky clothes I was given.

I closed my eyes and blocked out the silence that rang like bells in my head and bit my lip to keep the memories away.

I pulled myself through the portal into Beilschmidt's room, to find Lovino leaning against the wall next to the dresser, looking tired. Beilschmidt was sitting up in bed, playing lazily with a gun he had gotten from somewhere.

"Matthew!" He cried my name with absurdly childish delight, lighting up his face in an abnormal way.

He threw himself out of the bed, almost tripping in the excess blankets and launched himself across the room stopping in front of me only long enough to grab my wrist tightly.

He started pulling insistently, making quick steps and tugging hard, and we made it halfway across the room, towards the closet, before he stopped very suddenly and let go of my wrist.

He looked quickly at my face, studying it sharply with the odd glee fading slightly from his eyes.

He shook his head in a strangely mock sadness, that wasn't totally false and held up his hand, now bloody.

My wrist.

I snuck a glance down at the once scabbed, now freshly torn open circle of burn that trickled a small line of blood down my finger.

"Matthew" He said, in a tired voice and wiped his hand on his white pyjamas, staining them in a fascinating way with my blood.

He sighed and grabbed my other wrist, tugging me in the same way he did before, but there was a different tone in the air that I didn't know how to identify.

Lovino's quick steps alerted me of his sudden movement to follow us, and he grabbed my injured wrist, a move that surprised me, and kept up with Beilschmidt's pace while looking at the burns intently.

"When did you get these?" He whispered; we both glanced at Beilschmidt, who ignored the question, but we both know was listening for the answer.

I didn't give them one, finding no indication of right or wrong in the situation. It might lower my status of companionship with Lovino, but I couldn't risk anything with Beilschmidt.

I spared Vargas one last glance, a last ditch effort to stabilise any amity between us, and he caught my glance easily, and gave a small nod.

I had no idea what that nod meant, but it was sure to mean something.

I pushed the interaction to the back of my priorities as we stopped in front of the closet door.

Gilbert entered a code into the keypad next to it, his broad shoulders hiding any facial expression he might be revealing, and his posture gave nothing away.

Lovino stepped forward and entered another key code, before the door unlocked with a beep and a heavy click.

Gilbert opened the door with the hand that wasn't gripping my wrist tightly, and guided us into the dark room, which lit up as we entered.

Expensive looking suits lined one side of the wall, with different varieties shoes underneath them. behind the suits were varieties of casual clothes, which could obviously be brought forward on some type of pulley system.

The other side of the room held an expensive looking painting with a long table supporting watches and jewellery and a long silvery mirror.

Lovino looked directly at the mirror, and I avoided my reflection, Gilbert tugged as right past it to the end of the room, where another key code was placed simply on the wall.

Gilbert entered two codes himself, and another panel opened, allowing him to scan his handprint. A door the same colour as the wall slid open silently, and Lovino jumped just enough to be caught in my peripheral vision.

I would have thought he had been in here before; obviously not.

Gilbert tugged us through the door then let go of my hand. I watched the blood rush back into it as the circulation was restored, while Gilbert walked to a large computer taking up the majority of the wall of the small room.

There were four chairs placed in front of the keyboard, looking small in the vastness of the monitor.

Gilbert entered a few pass codes into the computer, and videos lit up the once dark screen, making Lovino and Beilschmidt wince a little. Beilschmidt sat down hard in the largest chair, his blood stained pyjamas crumpling as he slouched.

He motioned for us to sit with a flick of his wrist, and Lovino, still holding my wrist, walked forward obediently.

i was wary, but I followed my coworker.

We sat down in the chairs as Beilschmidt clicked on the first video of many, which I quickly recognised to be us, standing in the hallway the day before.

We watched the Beilschmidt whip around on the screen, facing lovino and gripping his wrist hard.

"Look at your face Matthew." Beilschmidt whispered, and all eyes traveled to the face on the screen, devoid of all emotion except the cold calculation set deep in my eyes. It was obvious, everyone could see the nothingness I had.

I made me feel weird and hollow.

I couldn't look away from my face, now horribly empty and familiar, I was looking at the sickness evident on Gilbert's face and the real Gilbert was watching me. I could feel his gaze glaring into me.

My hair traveled feebly on the screen as Beilschmidt blew air into my face and our mouthes moved wordlessly on the screen. Beilschmidt grabbed my shirt and tugged me down the hall.

"Look at how you move." Beilschmidt whispered and I couldn't refuse the command. I watched the robotic movement of my limbs, disconnected from my mind and just as vacant as my face. Devoid of any tells, any kind of internal emotion I knew I was vaguely feeling in that moment.

The camera switched to a new hallway, just as Gilbert swerved inwards and I caught him without effort.

"The expression on you face didn't even change." Lovino said. His voice sounded loud and echoey and it rattled me. I looked at Beilschmidt and he smiled with pointy teeth, looking back at the screen.

"This is my favourite part." He said.

My facial expression changed.

I could feel Lovino's breathing change as he watched the video.

A slight flush had spread across my cheeks and my lips had tightened. I watched in horror as everything changed. My hands threatened to shake, rebelling against the control I had over them. My scars hurt, everything I worked for, every inch of my skin that was sacrificed for the sake of this facade was for nothing. I had cracked over such a small thing.

I watched myself carry Gilbert like someone watching an explosion, I knew it was coming, I knew it would only get worse.

I couldn't look away.

The camera switched to Gilbert's bedroom and my hands in the video matched my hands now. I tried desperately to get them to stop their tremors. Lovino was looking at them, staring, like a confused child. I couldn't control them, what if Beilschmidt saw?

I need to get away, I need to get away.

Gilbert had captured me in the video, yanking me back down so easily. I should have been prepared for that, I should have been prepared for all of it.

I watched myself crawl across the bed and felt shame. Shame; horrible horrible feelings that I couldn't stand I wanted him to kill me, right then and there. Why didn't I just take of the shirt?

Why didn't I just take off the shirt?

Gilbert stopped the video of me taking apart my gun and putting it back together again and spun in his chair to look at me.

"Matthew." He said it in the same tone as when he discovered my blood on his hand.

He looked at me with fire in his eyes, of course he was having fun.

My hands shook.

"Now." He took a breath. "If I didn't know you I would have said you were aroused."

Lovino shifted uncomfortably.

"But I do know you." Lovino stood up and walked behind my chair, leaning on it in a way that made me feel vulnerable.

"And I know that the look in your eyes isn't the look of an aroused man. That is the look of a scared man."

He leaned in, his breath hitting me in the face like yesterday, but today it was hot, and it blew across me like fire.

"Matthew. Why are you so scared?"

Lovino stalked away with tight shoulders as soon as the question was breathed into my ear and a chill ran down my back.

I gripped the arms of my chair tightly and he leaned back slightly to look into my eyes. I couldn't escape, I couldn't breathe.

"Oh." He breathed and fell back into his chair.

"Oh." Lovino mimicked sarcastically from the corner of the small room, only a few paces away.

Beilschmidt looked at my like prey and I fought to keep myself under control but every part of me screamed like they never had before. I was going insane.

"Vargas, take Matthew back to your room." Beilschmidt whispered and his eyes flashed when he looked up to where Lovino was standing.

"Do what you need to do Matthew, just don't let it interfere with the way you think." Beilschmidt said vaguely, but I knew exactly what he meant. I almost scrambled out of the chair in my haste, and opened the doors with the codes Beilschmidt had used earlier and failed to hide.

Vargas walked stiffly after me as I made my way through the closet and out into Beilschmidt's bedroom, closing the door behind him quickly and not bothering to sweep the room for potential enemies.

I grabbed Vargas' shirt sleeve and tugged him across the room to the wardrobe; through to our room where I let go and faced him.

He looked slightly pale everywhere but his cheeks, which were flushed slightly, he looked confused and disturbed, but I didn't care. I had to get what I needed.

"Hit me." I said, and Vargas flinched back in surprise.

"No." He said, looking me dead in the eyes before taking another step back, "No. Why?" He exclaimed, and balled his fists.

"Why in the hell would you want me to hit you?"

I stepped swiftly forward and flicked him hard in his healing eye and he howled in pain, one hand going to protect the injury and one out in front of him as if to hold me back.

"Hit me." I said, louder, and he shook his head again.

"Fuck no!" I stepped around him and hit the back of his head making him stumble forward, leaving my foot in front of him to ensure he tumbled heavily to the ground.

He yelped in pain and anger and swiped at my feet with his leg as he rose, which I jumped quickly.

"You want to fight? Fine, I will fucking fight you." He launched himself forward with quick punches that I could block easily, but that only angered him and his blows became harder to block without feeling them or block at all.

He threw punch after punch and I dodged and ducked, blocking his blows and avoiding his well placed attacks.

"Fucking fight back you pussy!" He yelled and threw another punch that landed, for the first time, sharply across my cheekbone.

Alfred's face blocked out my vision and I felt suddenly cold when I should have been feeling hot.

"Mattie!" Blond hair and blue eyes. "Fight back you pussy!" The pillow hit me square in the head and he laughed in delight. "I beat Mattie! I beat Mattie! Matthew." His eyes swam into my vision. "Hey! Matthew!"

Vargas was breathing heavy and sweating hard, his fists were up and there was the light of anger in his eyes.

"Fight. Back." He yelled and I wanted to feel warm again. I wanted to play with Alfred and not have to be afraid of the mirror, not want to tear out my hair and pour poison in my drink each night. Good god I wanted to fight and fight and fight till my lips were bloody and my hands were torn. I hit Lovino hard, power and feeling building in the punch and it felt so good.

The italian stumbled back then surged forward, a slight grin on his lips as he attacked with a ferocity I couldn't remember seeing in anyone where I was trained.

Vargas wasn't a soldier, oh he felt who he was protecting and he felt each blow I dealt. I punched his sides and his shoulders, his ears and his legs I wanted his bruised and feeling what I couldn't and I loved it. I felt the sweat drip down from my hairline, mixing with the blood from a cut on my eyebrow and I could feel the warmth of the fight, the passion, finally finally passion.

Vargas swept my feet out from under me and I took him down with me, we both hit the floor and he laughed. Oh he laughed, and I gasped in surprise as a giggle built up in my chest and came unbidden from my mouth; building into a laughter that made me shake and wheeze. I felt it. I felt it, oh sweet vulnerability I felt the spark of life.

Vargas' laughing slowed to a few random chuckles before falling silent. My chest felt heavy and light at the same time. He laid next to me on the floor, not looking at me, but I looked at him. A cut on his forehead trickled blood and there was a cut on his lip. Random beginnings of bruises splattered his neck and cheeks, traveling down to where I knew bruises were forming beneath his clothing.

"You were having a flashback." He said suddenly, and he turned to meet my eyes. His eyes were the colour of brandy and still danced with joy and ferocity from the fight.

I nodded.

"Sometimes it's good to be human Matthew. The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart." He looked at me from what seemed to be a distance.

"Hellen Keller." I named the quote, and his eyes focused.

"Yeah." He breathed "she's an inspiration to anyone afraid to fight."

He pushed himself to his feet and grabbed my hand from where it lay on the floor, hoisting me up and groaning at the same time.

He leaned forward and kissed me once on each cheek, before popping his neck and offering a hand out to shake.

"Lovino Vargas, coworker, roomate, asshole, and your newly appointed punching bag till either of us dies. This position is non negotiable."

He winked at me and grabbed my hand again, shaking it awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you Matthew Williams." He said, and grinned.

"Nice to meet you Lovino Vargas."

I grinned back.

Hey guys, I am sorry for the long wait. I had some trouble and almost relapsed, I used those feelings in this somewhat. I am sorry. Very rough times, but Matthew is beginning to feel happiness.

I would like to state that I don't condone the release of any type of feeling through violence, this was how Matthew was raised, this was how he gained control, and this is how he is released. Don't beat up your friends.

I love you guys, if you ever have any trouble please talk to me I'm always here for you.

-Serena