Chapter 18: Screaming for your synapses

Garish, glaring, grey walls surrounded her. The door shut with such a force that it splintered. The light jaundice bulb above Lucy's head was struggling to hang on to its last remnants of energy. With each flicker of the bulb, the darkness grew in each corner of the naked room. The sick pit in Lucy's stomach grew ever heavier with anxiety and trepidation.

She couldn't cry though. If she did the monster would come back. She bit her tongue to keep herself from making a sound. Cold sweat dampened her pink PJs. Her stringy hair clung to her face and neck. Not a sound.

Out of the darkness, an unnaturally mat black, gangly, hand made a swipe for Lucy. She whimpered, but as soon as she comprehended that the sound had come from her, her stomach acids felt like they were going to summersault out from their depths and flood in to her throat.

There was a vicious bang outside. Then the door whined as a thunderous weight befell it from the other side.

"Hey, don't make me come in there to shut you up, huh!" The growl that spat those vehement words was distorted like the creature had many voices instead of one. It was deep, guttural and basely demonic.

She whined in the back of her throat but said nothing else. Though, even that miniscule mewl from a fearful child set off the shameless monster. "What was that, you little bitch?"

The door sagged under the force of the first hit. Then it nearly splintered in half with the second hit. Lucy frantically searched the room, but her paranoia of the engulfing darkness hampered her efforts in finding shelter against the wrath of the beast. If the fact that the darkness hoarded each corner of the room wasn't nauseating enough from each corner of the room those acerbic hands were stretching out for her, attempting to drag her to hell. On closer inspection, the hands had claw like fingernails and looked like they could rip through her flesh like paper. She was paralysed in her place.

On the third hit, the door fell with a resonating groan and in lieu of Harleen stepping in like she on the day of the attack… something else stood in her place. It barely resembled Harley, but it didn't look human. Its skin was pale and it sagged frightfully underneath her jaw, under arms and thighs. Her blonde hair was standing up much like Blanka's. Its eyes were abnormally small, like small beady dots, and her mouth was too large for her face. A mouth filled with razor like teeth. Her hands was glaringly red, burnt, and blistering. Her torso, bloated and an unearthly shade of peach, was towering over Lucy. Even its shadow was malevolent as it stretched towards the corners of the room, greeting the darkness like a pair of crafty fiends, and circled her, ready to pounce!

Lucy took one look at the monster and screamed for all she had. Screamed for her father. Screamed for her mother. Screamed for anyone. Anyone who would take this monster away. She regretted it. She would take the mat black hands over this monster any day. But it was too late. The monster reached out and hauled her towards its gaping mouth!

A glass shattering bellow of horror was all she could hear in her rushing ears as the monster dissolved alongside everything else.

Lucy's eye lids flashed open with a violent jerk from her body. She was hyperventilating, hard. That was the first thing she registered. Then, she saw Aashi leaning over her, her eyes filled with motherly concern and perplexity.

Aashi wiped her forehead with one of her father's vest that she had tossed aside before, and gave Lucy a glass of water. "Drink."

Shakily, her dainty hand took the glass but she didn't give it any attention. Her wide eyes were flittering through the entire room, searching, hoping that her night terrors were just that.

"Lucy" Aashi's stern voice beckoned her back to stability. "Drink, you have been tossing and turning for a while now. It will calm you."

Lucy turned the glass in her hand, but still refused to drink until she knew for sure that she was safe. Warm hands encircled her jittery hands. Lucy's eyes flashed to her mother who was sitting beside her now.

One look at Aashi's authoritative face and commanding presence put her nerves at ease. She had seen Aashi break men with one bloodcurdling sneer, so defeating a monster was no sweat for her. Lucy had nothing to fear. Then, Lucy giggly wearily which splattered some water from her mouth back into the glass.

Suddenly, Aashi's sharp brows rose affectionately, "Oh? What's so funny, little one?"

"You look like…" Lucy took another sip. "You look so funny, Mummy. Like you're so confused about what you wanna say, but don't wanna admit it 'cause you're a big girl."

Aashi pouted childishly. "I'm not a big girl. I'm a woman." Aashi made another hideously comical face before they sputtered into a fit of poorly supressed chuckles.

When they calmed down, Lucy finished her water and Aashi took it away from her. She made to leave for the bathroom, but Lucy held steadfast to her black shorts. Aashi's eyes flew to her face, analysing her every move, then her eyes briefly flickered between Lucy's hand and her face.

Aashi had intended on grabbing a face towel from the bathroom to clean the sweat off of Lucy's face, but the sheer amount of crippling fear in Lucy's eyes kept her from leaving her side. She sighed in deep contemplation, and decided to lightly cradled Lucy, getting cosy on the bed but leaving the lamp on.

Lucy clamped her arms around Aashi's torso and buried her face next to Aashi's right breast. It was suffocating, however she could not express her gratitude at the magnitude of tranquillity it brought her. Aashi's body was not comfortable to snuggle up to in the least as it was stone hard, but underneath her hands Lucy could feel the trembles in Aashi's muscles; even the minute ones, which betrayed the strength in them. That strength was what brought this blanket of calm over her, banishing the fear that cobwebbed her mind. Even without brute strength, Aashi's will power could make anything, even the great mountains and destructive volcanoes of this earth, bend to her command. It was because of this fact Lucy knew deep down that nothing could get her as long as she was in her mother's arms.

Whilst Lucy moulded herself into her mother's side, Aashi damned her involuntary reflexes as her throat tighten in torment. She thought herself a terrible mother: she couldn't, didn't, know how to comfort her daughter. Her own daughter. Even now when she tried to spit out some form of sentimentality her throat clogged up, which acted as kindling to the blaze in her chest that was her self-loathing and rage.

'What do mothers do to calm their children from a near panic attack?' she battled with herself.

Aashi showed no signs of this civil war outwardly, other than her throat closing itself, and tenderly stroked Lucy's head. She threw caution to the wind and concluded that she would speak frankly. She would be nothing but herself.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's ok. But, that doesn't mean I won't listen either"

It took a moment in Lucy's mind for it to click that Aashi was trying to reassure her. She was telling Lucy that she could talk to her. Lucy tried to sink further into Aashi's body. A taunting silence accompanied them for a long moment.

Lucy's troubled eyes looked everywhere. 'Where to begin?'

Both felt trepidation clamp onto their hearts like a parasite. Aashi feared that her inability to comfort her daughter would estrange her from Lucy and her daughter would meet a similar grisly fate to Asilia. The odds were great, but her grief riddled mind was creating connections where there were none. Coupled with an immobilizing guilt, her own mind was torturing her. Suddenly, Asilia's face plagued Aashi's mind and like a mechanism her arms tightened around Lucy.

Lucy had never had a problem speaking with her father, because he was just so accepting when it came to her, but with Aashi, she wanted to show her mother that she was a capable girl who could grow up to be an independent woman. She didn't want to give Aashi a reason to think otherwise, and in comparison to what Aashi could do, a small nightmare seemed to pale greatly. But, it was so hard, so, so, hard to keep her fear locked away.

Lucy knew she couldn't tell her father about the incident, and every time she was tempted she would hear Aashi's voice in her head. Warning her. She had to tell Aashi. She had no other choice.

"I- I keep remembering that day… when Harleen…" Lucy paused many times. She wanted to sound strong and was proud that she could keep her voice from wobbling. "When Harleen tried to- to-" her voice hitched and Aashi felt her heart falter when Lucy released a broken sob.

Aashi completely relieved her, when she cradled her closer and nuzzled her cheek on the top of her head, cajoling her to continue. "She tried, tried, tried to ki- kill me!" she sobbed heavily. "I keep- keep seeing it! Over- over and over again!"

Aashi had known that Harleen's neglectful and vehement behaviour would take its toll on her daughter, but she had underestimated the idea that Lucy could possibly suffer from PTSD. Aashi was faintly aware of her grey top becoming damp with Lucy's tears.

"And I- I couldn't- fight her…" Lucy's tone was laced with shame and unbelievable hurt.

It dawned on Aashi that Lucy partially blamed herself for what had happened. She thought she was incapable of protecting herself, of being strong, because she had been afraid. Lucy thought she would look down on her for being afraid. Aashi couldn't have her own daughter thinking that and sought to fix that.

Aashi gave Lucy a moment to calm down before she spoke softly. "In nineteen-eighty-eight, I was in Calcutta. I was about sixteen or seventeen at the time and had just found my first real sponsor. I was going to visit a friend to tell him about it, and on the way I met a homeless old man. He was camping on a pile of planks, near an alley. He asked me for my coat because all he had were the plain clothes on his back. Now, in India in summer, the days are so hot you can burn your feet if you don't wear shoes and at night you can freeze your fingers off because of the cold."

Lucy listened, curious to see how this was linked to anything. "I told him no. I didn't care, you see, that he could freeze to death. It was quickly getting dark. You could barely see five feet before the darkness hit you. I left him, but when I was coming back, it was late and I felt guilty leaving him there in the cold. So, I went back but when I got there… he was dead. A giant rock was next to him and a man was standing there. He was tall, and had blood all over him. He had split the old man's head with the rock like watermelon."

Aashi tenderly began to stroke Lucy's head again. "He was wearing a scarf around his head so that you could only see his eyes. I looked him dead straight in the eyes, and I knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill me too. I didn't think twice before I turned around and ran. About a year later, I saw in the paper, another homeless person had been killed in the same region."

Lucy didn't say anything.

"They called him the stone man. He went on to kill about a dozen more people. And do you know what would have happened if I hadn't ran away in fear, Lucy?"

"He… he would've kill you."

"Exactly. Fear is necessary, child, in measured amounts. Fear is what has kept us alive for this long as it is that which drives you to try your bloody hardest to live." She told her in a matter of fact tone. She pulled at Lucy's locks to make her look at her solemn eyes, "There's nothing wrong with what you did or how you're feeling. Do you understand Lucy?"

It was all Aashi could muster at the moment, simply because her wrath had reached new levels. She vowed to herself that she would kill Harleen Quinzel. At the time, Aashi had had merely been concerned for Lucy on a moderate level, but it was different now. Lucy was her daughter, and God help anyone who tried to hurt Lucy. Intentional or not.

Lucy nodded, flabbergasted. Aashi's eyes bore into Lucy's as she spoke her next words, "As long as I am alive, child, you need not be afraid of anything."

;-;-;-;-;

As the clock struck seven past in the evening, they chose to sit by the sea and have dinner. Aashi had the steaming crimson lobster, Arthur the tantalising muscles and Lucy the shining seabass. Neither adult was bothered when she ordered it a second time. She had gained a healthy amount but it didn't hurt to put a little bit more on her bones.

Aashi had signalled Arthur in the morning that something was wrong with Lucy, and shot him a pointed look which said 'we need to talk'. Lucy was oblivious to the secret language that the adults had developed over the year they spent together.

Arthur was in the middle of his second tantrum (about American politics and how the oval office consisted of a bunch of flying pigs) when Lucy interjected.

"Mum, that's not how you do it!"

Aashi's gaze shot from her lobster to Lucy's outstretched hands. "Oh, and how is it done missy?"

"Like this! You're not opening it properly so you don't get all the nice fleshy bits!"

Aashi stared at Lucy impassively, but her eyes shone with mirth. "Nice fleshy bits…" she repeated.

When Lucy had finished cracking the skeleton, she came to realise both parents were staring at her amused. "What?!" she blushed and shoved more food in her mouth.

"Where did you learn to open a lobster properly, Lou?" Arthur waved down a waiter.

"You showed me, Dad! Remember you took me to that sea place for my fifth birthday and you showed me!" she grabbed a handful of fries and munched on them.

"Well, I did a great job, didn't I?!" Arthur giggled, looking at Aashi for her reaction but she was absorbed with her lobster. "Hey, Ai! You like it then?"

Aashi looked up from her lobster, and Arthur swore he saw a light flutter of crimson on her cheeks. "I've had lobster before, I just haven't ever opened one before like this." She was quick to add, "I love lobster."

"But, Mum, I thought you were a *rabbit!" Lucy's voice was muffled as she had her face full of fries.

"Lucy, don't speak with your mouth full. And slow down, the food isn't going to walk off your plate, only put enough in your mouth so you can chew." Aashi chastised. "And I am, well was, a vegetarian. Until you two brought me over to the dark side." Aashi poked her finger in the direction of Arthur, trying to look like an old hag.

"So you do like meat, don't you?" he ordered some steak, raw, and mischievously taunted Aashi.

"Yeah, so?" Aashi smiled at him, tempting him to start with her.

Lucy jumped to Aashi's side, "Yeah, leave Mum alone, Dad!"

Arthur leaned back in his seat and looked at Lucy in a funny manner. "Why do you say it like that, Lou, like the Brits?"

"What?" Lucy cocked her head, puzzled.

"You say Mum, not Mom."

Aashi kicked his foot underneath the table, "So what if she says a few words like us Brits? There is nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah, but she's American, and only you speak British- English here. And you haven't even been here that long."

Aashi's eye twinkled. "Kids pick up things fast, huh!"

"Hey, Mum. I wanna be British." Lucy said out of the blue.

Arthur nearly choked on his beer when a chuckle tore through his throat. "Why would you wanna do that?"

"Well, Mum's British so I think I should be too" then, hastily she said, "But I still wanna be American too!"

"Yeah, I can arrange it" Aashi informed Lucy, calmly.

"What seriously?" Arthur looked at her surprised.

Aashi shrugged, "Why not?"

Lucy looked between her parents, and when she visibly saw Arthur give in she jumped in her seat and hugged Aashi's neck.

"Alright, alright, Lou. Let mom eat her food, huh?" Arthur pointed at Lucy's seat as a warning. Having contemplated the whole day about whether to outright ask Aashi or to guess himself, his frustration gave way. "Ai, I gotta question."

Aashi watched absently as Arthur tore into his steak. "Hit me."

"Why'd you wear the paint? During the fight?" he clattered his utensils on the side of his plater and created circles on his thumbs with his index finger.

Aashi actually paused, and pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed. She looked over towards the gentle constructive waves and watched their undulate movement with a pensive look. Lucy's brow furrowed as she stuffed her mouth and observed her mother. She looked between her mother and then in the direction Aashi was gazing in, but saw nothing.

Aashi then focused on Arthur. "It's not so much of a show for the audience as it is for my opponent. The design and the colours usually signify what my intentions are. For instance, the particular design I wore in the previous match, I like to call it the warrior. I usually use that design when I want to conquer my opponent so that I can win their respect and show them that while I did defeat them, I do not believe myself to be in a greater position than them. Different designs have been influenced by different cultures. The warrior only has Hindu influences though. Surprisingly, it is actually my most neutral mask."

So absorbed Arthur was that his question was more like a whisper, "Mask?"

"Yes, the face paint is more of a mask, like a war mask than it is face paint for me. Face paint merely adds to the person's features whereas a mask has the ability to transform you into another person. And this applies not just to my little corner of the world, but everywhere."

Arthur leaned forward his chest almost in his plate, "Of course, everyone wears a mask. A different one for each occasion, or even for each person." He concurred.

Aashi held her wrists underneath her chin and leaned forward. "Of course. Like this couple next to us, whispering harshly to each other in Portuguese. From what I've picked up, the woman is accusing her lover of being an abusive cheater and that she was going to leave him. For so long, he was able to pull off the faithful husband because of the delicate mask he's moulded for her but behind her back he's pulled it off and replaced it for a calloused one."

Arthur continued, "But now she's seen a glimpse of him, the true face, and the entire façade has been lost, but not for the world, they still try to pull it off in public."

"But others are too self-absorbed to truly see the fissures within their façade. They're much more preoccupied with keeping up their own masks."

Arthur swallowed thickly. And then gawked at Aashi like she had just been placed at a higher pedestal. "I could…" he didn't finish it verbally. I could fuck you right now.

If he had he would have made her clam up, and he didn't want to see Aashi reduced to what she had been when she had first been hit with the news of the death of her lover.

Aashi tilted her head to the side, "You could?"

Arthur swallowed again, the nerves coming back, even after all this time. "I could really get out of here. Whadchya say?"

Lucy answered first, "Yeah! It's a pretty place but I'm bored now. And Mummy keeps looking at something but I can't see it!"

;-;-;-;-;

They hit the road not too long after and headed for their next stop: St Lucie. The road trip was perhaps Lucy's favourite part, particularly because Aashi had pulled out her burn CD which contained all of her favourite anthems, most of which Lucy fell in love with as Arthur and Aashi had so much fun head banging to nearly all of the songs. Not to mention, they came close to shattering the glass windows as their karaoke reached new heights.

Aashi and Arthur were both secretly pleased that despite their contradicting styles, they got on so well and managed to mix them as well. Aashi warmed up to Eminem and Arthur easily identified with Slipknot.

By the end of the first loop, Lucy practically knew the lyrics by heart for Holy Diver (Dio); Down with the Sickness (Disturbed); Smells like Teen Spirit (Nirvana); You could be mine (Guns N' Roses); Chop Suey (System of Down); Aces High (Iron Maiden); Raining Blood (Slayer); Thunderstruck (AC/DC); Creeping Death (Metallica); Pain Killer (Judas Priest); Blind (Korn); Wait and Bleed (Slipknot); Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen).

Inwardly, Aashi was so proud she made her daughter into a metal head. Though it had taken a while for her to take to the heavier songs, she did eventually fall for the adrenaline pumping songs.

"Mummy! Mummy! That one!" Lucy pointed at the small screen, displaying the track list.

"Again?!"

"Yeah!" Lucy jumped in her seat.
"Yeah" Arthur near mimicked her.

Aashi sighed, and murmured to herself "As thick as thieves"

The guitar strummed to life, followed by the rhythmic beat and then the scratchy voice 'Take me down to the Paradise city, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty. Oh won't you take me home!'

The whole car began to jump alongside Arthur and Lucy as they rocked the entire way to the city. They reached White City in three hours because of the many potty breaks Lucy had to take, but Aashi didn't seem too worried. Not even when Lucy fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. This time Arthur shared a room with them rather than being in a separate room.

He had complained nearly the whole week when they were in Miami, complaining that he wanted to have fun with the girls too. Not that he missed much seeing as how he only occupied his room when they literally fell asleep and was mostly in their room. In the end, Aashi had their rooms changed miraculously considering it was the holiday season.

Lucy was smack dab in middle of the Californian king sized bed and spread her limbs out like a starfish when the adults finally got their luggage sorted. Aashi put her hands on her hips and cocked her head at the sight, a bit miffed that she didn't even bother to take her shoes or coat off. Arthur came up behind her and held back from gushing over Lucy obnoxiously. He rested his chin on Aashi's shoulder and whispered, "She's so adorable, my little Lucy."

Aashi didn't vocally agree but when the smile crinkled her eyes Arthur knew she was thinking exactly that. "You get her shoes and I'll get her coat, Artie."

They managed to get Lucy comfortable and in her PJs without waking her, a testament to how tired Lucy was, and began their own rituals of comfort. Arthur kept sneaking glances at Aashi through the cracked door of the bathroom but was fruitless. Aashi changed clothes like a magician, in mere seconds.

Arthur grumbled to himself and got easy, but as he slipped off his briefs, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He looked back to the bathroom and found Aashi with crossed arms leaning against the threshold of the door.

"Pervert" he accused her, not shamed at all.

"You should cover yourself before she wakes" she strolled past him. "It's not like you don't like it."

Arthur finished changing and grabbed her wrist as she past him and pulled her to him. "Of course I do, but, uh, I thought you were into men in corsets and makeup-ah"

Aashi leaned on his chest, "I like my men many ways." And then pulled away, and he let her.

'Yes, she's gettin' better. Just needs time is all…' Arthur spoke to himself. 'Just needs time to help her forget that woman.'

A part of him was ecstatic that Asilia was out of the way, but a smaller part of him was vexed: his win was not because of anything he had done. He only got this close because some pricks had killed off the competition. He had nothing on his part, not truly committing until it was too late.

Arthur made to go to bed, but just as Aashi flipped the lamp off Arthur's glinting eyes caught Aashi's paint tins. The thought that hit him was near scandalous, but maybe it just might work…

;-;-;-;-;

When Aashi awoke the next morning, determined to just laze around, but her morning was going to anything but low-energy. She was met with quite the sight.

Arthur caught Aashi's eyes in the mirror of the bathroom. He grinned boyishly, and Lucy giggled when she realised that they were caught.

Aashi pushed her Rapunzel like hair out of her face. "What on earth are you two Bandars up to?"

"Daddy is trying to be Frank N Furt from Rocky Horror Show." Lucy innocently let it slip.

"Lou!" Arthur's accusing tone was not missed by Aashi.

She leaned against the headboard. She began to comb her hair but her eyes intently gazed on Arthur's face, "Alright, let's see it then. Come on, give us a spin."

Arthur stepped out and faced her full on. His face had been painted sheer white, while his eyelids had been painted black (even going over his eyebrows in an attempt to mimic that twenties flapper girl look), and his lips were a deep crimson. Overall, it was poorly done and droopy.

Arthur was not attractive to Aashi in the physical sense at all. His eyes were too small and narrow. His nose too bulbous like. His lips too thin. Yet, those brown eyes of his were usually spilling with so much mirth and adoration when he watched Lucy making him so agreeable. Not to mention, the dust of freckles on his nose was so cute, especially when his nose wrinkled when a quirky smirk stretched those thin lips forcing an all-out aphrodisiac reaction from her. His temerity helping that magnetism sidle her closer to him, creating a new sort of rapport between them.

Aashi wasn't foolish. She knew what he was doing and his efforts were so endearing, alluring even. Aashi was pulled out of musings when she caught that flash of fear in his eyes. She crawled to the end of the bed chastely and wrapped her arms around his neck. "My own Frank N Furt."

A weight lifted from his chest when her lips came oh so close to brushing against his. His hands snaked around her waist and held her close to him.

A bemused look crossed Aashi's face. "Does he come with a corset and cape?"

"'Course he does, but only if you want him." He whispered against her lips, their breaths mingling. His eyes were glued to her lips watching their every move.

"Ew! Daddy! Mummy! You can't kiss when I'm here! I'm just a kid! And Mummy hasn't brushed her teeth!"

;-;-;-;-;

Their stay in St Lucie was much like it had been in Miami: they saw the sights, chowed down on the food (quite a bit on Lucy and Arthur's part but Aashi didn't mind at all) and Lucy just explored the world outside of Gotham. She was amazed by the vast variety and how bright the world actually was. It bore a hole in Aashi's heart to see how little Lucy knew of the world and how easily she saw joy in the world when that was supposed to be normal.

The Flecks soon came to realise that Aashi's behaviour on the day of the match was a routine. Silent, brooding, and preparing herself. As they approached the venue, Arthur lagged behind. A thought had struck him as he gazed upon himself in the mirror. The makeup. It had brought a new spark to his life: literally and figuratively. It was as if something was now brewing in him, fermenting with his self-loathing and sultry hate for the world, giving life to something revolutionary in him.

He was getting high on the short bursts he got of that feeling… whatever it was.

"Arthur" Aashi's monotone voice lined him back to reality. He had frozen mid-step.

Aashi's and Lucy's concerned looks made him push that thought back. He would bring it up to Aashi, see what she thinks, and he needed to speak to her about Lucy. In the near week that he had shared his nights with the girls, he found that Lucy was experiencing fits of terror in the middle of the night and as if Aashi already knew the cause of it, she just pulled Lucy close to her chest. Perhaps it was a motherly thing. He didn't know, wasn't sure, he would bring it up. Certainly.

Aashi went through her ritual: removing her jewellery, tying back her hair in a tight bun, painting her face. This time her design was different. Overall, she had an azure overall look (for protection and determination), with black eyelids (a sign of her anger), lilac dots over her eyebrows (a show of her wisdom) finishing off with a hunter green trident that stretched from her chin and ended just below her eyebrows. The handle of the trident covered her rough lips, while the middle spear pulled over her nose. The three spears acting as the three levels of consciousness, while the green represented new beginnings. While on the opposite end of her face, on her forehead, was a pale white crescent. To signify her timelessness. This blue face warrior was known as the Protector.

Like before the crowd came to life when the opponents stepped in the ring, however, in this case the crowd was divided. While some were rooting for Aashi, the majority were behind the rookie. A rising star, Harry had called him. Aashi was defending her title in this particular match.

Her stance on this opponent was completely opposite. Her opponent, Whitehouse, a tall, dirty blonde, Caucasian man with a crude crop cut that put the hard look on his face at the forefront. His muscles had nothing on Perez, but something about the way his eyes narrowed and his entire face tensed told Arthur that this one was not going to be easy to take down… not that Perez was any easier. Arthur didn't know how Aashi had enough stamina to take on Perez's shots and then beat him to a pulp.

The two fighters squared each other, quickly. Then they both dove into the match. A flurry of ducks, swipes, and shifting. Whitehouse tried to corner her on several occasions but Aashi wouldn't allow it. She pawed at his next punch and landed three punched of her own. Whitehouse looked knackered what with the amount of shots Aashi took at him. Then, he slipped up. He let his guard down when he landed a particular nasty punch to Aashi's shoulder.

His shoulders loosened and that's when Aashi went in for the kill. She honed in on the weakness and struck like a flying serpent. Her coiling muscles became taut. She shuffled closer and punched in square in the jaw. This jolted Whitehouse out of his happy place, and it was in that moment he knew he had fucked up. His arms came up to defend, but Aashi's punches forced through his defences and he fell to a staggered knee.

The referee stepped in.

Arthur's eyes then fixated on the way Aashi looked in that moment in her corner. Muscles sweating from every pore, body twitching at the slightest of movements, face stone cold yet calculating. The way the paint clung to her face like a second skin. It was smudged here and there but the overall design was still discernible. Her jaw jutted out when she locked her fiery eyes with Whitehouse's own gleaming red eyes.

Butterflies wreaked havoc in his stomach. Something bad was gonna happen. A man like Whitehouse was not going to let this go honourably.

The fifth round began and Whitehouse surged forward like a fuming bull. His mouth looked strange.

'It's like he don't have his guard in- Wait!' Arthur rose from his seat, astonished. "Aashi!" he screeched and somehow from all of the chaotic sounds in the room Aashi heard him. Momentarily Aashi's eyes rolled towards him in her peripheral, and then back to Whitehouse, but it was too late. Whitehouse had lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Aashi's forearm. He was aiming for her shoulder or neck, but Aashi was quick. She pulled back her trunk and held up her arm.

His teeth sank in straight into the tender unyielding flesh. Arthur feared he would bite the flesh clean off. Aashi reared back her other hand and landed three punches in a piston like motion before Whitehouse gave in and slumped, unconscious. It was so quick that if Arthur hadn't been looking he wouldn't have believed it. The referee stepped in and announced the foul. The crowd booed, and it only became wilder when the referee announced there would be no winner, although it was plain as day Aashi was the victor (despite the foul).

When Arthur's eyes drifted from Whithouse's limp form over to Aashi he found her staring right back at him with an absorbed look.

A first aider had seen to Aashi's injury and declared that it would take two weeks for the wound to heal. It was bleeding lightly, but enough to make Lucy scream bloody murder. She also advised Aashi not to add any pressure or stress on to it. She wrapped the wound in gauze and sent Aashi on her way, but what she did not know was that Aashi would not heed the advice. Her next and final fight was a week away.

When Aashi was released, Lucy scampered towards her and hugged Aashi's knees. Aashi rubbed Lucy's head and assured her she was fine but Lucy didn't loosen her arms. Aashi was relatively quiet and this made Arthur and Harry wary. Usually Aashi would revert back to her converasational self. This was not the case this time. Even in the car when Lucy stitched herself to Aashi's side, she said nothing.

Aashi went straight to the hotel room with Lucy in tow. Harry held Arthur back with a firm hand on his shoulder. His narrow eyes held Arthur's with great intensity. "Ya betta take care o' her for me, aright? She's a canny lass like. But, the lass she's, I duvna how to say it, she's been off."

His eyes became distant, watery actually, and he hesitated when he uttered his next words. "Maybes, no not maybes, definitely it's 'cause of Asilia."

Arthur bit back a frown, but said nothing instead opting to nod.

"It's ah mighty shame. She was war people, good people, and…" Harry trailed off, but when his eyes became focused again something dark flickered in his eyes. "Yer a good lad but 'f ye don't take care, Arthur, ya deed. Ya understand?"

Sure, Arthur could barely make out the entire sentence but the message was clear. If he upset Aashi, her entire clan would come after him. Arthur raised his chin. His eyes cold and holding accord.

Harry continued, "Ya'll get wrong for it 'f I see even the slightes' tension in that lass." With that final threat Harry strode away.

Arthur stared at the road Harry had disappeared on long after he had gone. When he came to he made a quick ascent to his, their, room. Aashi had managed to coax Lucy into leaving her side and sent her to the bathroom to prepare for the night. Arthur took this opportunity to bring up some of the issues he had mentally flagged up.

He sat down next to Aashi heavily and bounced on the bed. "What a day…" his eyes were drawn to the gauze on her left forearm. "Hey, c'mere." He took Aashi's arm and stroked the length of it. "Y'know Lucy ain't getting' much sleep lately."

Aashi regarded him impassively. "I know. She's afraid of the change. Even though she's having fun now, I think everything that happened over the year is finally catching up to her."

Arthur's brows scrunched together and he licked his scar, "What'd mean?"

Again, with cool impassiveness she looked him over like he couldn't get the bigger picture. "How old is Lucy, Arthur?"

He answered in a heartbeat. "Seven."

"Seven. At seven she's already had to come to terms with her mother loathing her very existence and having to rely and depend on her aberrant neighbour who was new to her home city. A city which she barely knows and has never left. Now she's in another state half way across the country with said neighbour and her father." Aashi wasn't completely lying, if omission wasn't counted as such. "Can you imagine how that must weigh on her?"

Arthur's hard gaze went to their interlocked hands. He hadn't thought of that. He was so used to Lucy braving through it all that he hadn't even thought twice how it would affect her psyche. The silence was shot when the tap of the bath went off. He opened his mouth hoping that something helpful would fall out, but his eyes caught her face paint again. He gulped loudly, his previous line of thought forgotten.

He was gonna do it. His hand shook lightly with anxiety. He was going to tell her about the paint. He was just mustering up the courage. "Ai… I-"

"Mummy!" Arthur's eyelids fell hard when Lucy's voice broke through the door.

When Arthur's eyelids lifted again, he found the spell on Aashi had lifted. Her eyes had a soft swirl of sympathy in them with a dash of compassion and a hint of tenderness.

Her hand laid on his chest. "Tell me when-"

"Mum!" another yell interrupted her.

Aashi looked at him pleadingly, before she stalked off to see what Lucy needed help with.

Arthur heaved out a breath he didn't know he had been keeping in.

To be continued…