Trigger Warning: This chapter was... really something to write. This chapter might actually have some pretty triggery stuff in it if you can't handle anything relating to children or miscarriages or... just anything in that line of stuff. It gets heavy (to me). Otherwise? Typical shit. But... you've been warned.

Freedoms & Liberties Lost

It'd been entirely too long.

Yet, they'd found it.

The Hunter stood at the entrance to the underground complex. Studying the intricate mausoleum doors. Firmly sealed and unassuming considering the surrounding graveyard. Something that, for all intents and purposes, seemed long abandoned.

As the Demon slept, D headed back down the incline. Making his way towards the tree line until he was certain they would not be detected. He drew in his aura. Pulling himself into a well-covered tree to where the saddle and bags currently resided.

"… we're here?"

"We are."

"And the girls?"

"Alive."

A wave of relief rushed over him, yet the Demon spoke no more.

If his calculations were correct, they would be ready to move come morning. When the light was soft and the nighttime creatures were bedding down.

For now, he would drink. Satiate the beast within. Something that had certainly put a dent in his supply of supplements. Yet, he found he didn't mind. He would acquire more, or he would find… a stand-in. If needed, he would hunt with the girls. Which would be quite the adjustment.

It would be worth it.

The tombs were silent as he pushed open the door, smelling of dust and decay. But in such a place, he felt a sort of reverence. Mind calmed and slowed as he paid his respects to those no longer among the living.

He understood now that this was a place where not-entirely Human persons were interred.

For only a moment, he wondered if they were placed by Human loved ones, or those of the Supernatural persuasion.

Did it matter?

But it'd been so long since the graves had seen any additions. Any visitors.

It was a hall of the forgotten.

Yet… these Vampires had deemed it okay to desecrate their final resting places by using it as a hideout.

Or did they not matter because of their 'dirty' lineage.

They'd mattered to someone, at some point.

And if that wasn't the crux of the matter.

If you weren't them, you were just another resource to consume.

Things were, without a doubt, not going to plan.

Far from it.

Where he'd originally intended to sneak through the facility, silently dispatching those who crossed his path, he found himself quickly tearing through. Weaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

It was not his fault.

Not one bit.

He'd tweaked and activated the amulet resting against his clavicle before sliding the door shut. There'd been no alarms as the wall shifted and revealed stairs. Had been no security to meet them.

However, an eye he well recognized from a few months prior, terribly realistic despite being formed of the metal alloy, bulged outwards from the wall of the elevator.

It still looked like Anyd, but he knew better.

Whatever version of her this was, it would be of no help to them.

"Hunter."

He tipped his head but said nothing. Had no need to. Not when the floor was softening beneath his feet and hands were attempting to drag him down.

The man was prepared for such a thing this time. Cutting his way into the shaft with a terrible screeching sound. Out to a place where he possessed more freedom and space to avoid such traps.

This was something the corrupted AI did not approve of.

Along the shaft opened a hundred yawning holes, lights flickering deep in their depths. The very same that'd put a hole in Edmont's chest.

A normal man might've fallen to such a thing, yet he would not.

Down the corridor he ran. Twisting and weaving his way past the streaks of light. Towards one of the first entrances he could spot, where a siren had just barely begun its wailing. Something that absolutely needed to be silenced.

With a flick of his wrist, D simultaneously called forth and cast out the Demon. Shadows spiraling like smoke down the long shaft. Erembour would search for the girls. If he had time, he would release any other captives. But they could wait. They were not the priority.

Erembour was already out of sight when D slammed into the doors. And as beams of light were redirected and deflected by the blade in his hand, he forced his fingers into the seam and pulled.

Perhaps he could have taken a few hits and carved out an opening, but that would shed blood unnecessarily. Why do that when he was more than capable of rending the metal into scrap?

And scrap it became as he entered, and the wail became a shriek. Loud enough and shrill enough that his ears twitched in agitation. Inside? A few corridors and adjoining rooms. And one very flummoxed Noble, bewildered and terrified when suddenly faced with the infamous Dhampir.

He screamed. A raspy noise that was overtaken by the siren, cut short by D's blade.

The body collapsed to the ground long after D was past.

The rooms were simple enough. Filled to the brim with servers and systems. A security flaw considering how close to the entrance it resided.

Reverse psychology?

Or simply stupidity?

Convenient for him.

As he scanned the first console, one of those gaping holes formed at his back. Belching out a stream of caustic fluid that would do no harm to the machine but would certainly sting like a bitch when in contact with organics.

Yet, D seemed wholly unimpressed as he continued to search. Typing in command after command until the alarm fell silent and the communication lines went dark.

Now he simply needed to keep it that way.

Distantly, there began a noise. Building and whirring. Shaking the foundation and spilling over until his ears rang. Roaring and chugging away until it burst like a balloon and all fell quiet.

It was an eerie silence. Worrying. Something that had D abandoning his task in a bid to catch up to Erembour.

"Someone discovered the button."

What in God's name did that mean?

The Hunter was intrigued, yet he did not stop or turn about as Anyd's voice faded into the distance. Whatever had been triggered was enough to draw her attention away. Or perhaps she felt there was no point to pursuing him anymore.

As if it was a lost cause.

Damn.

The ground suddenly heaved beneath his feet. Launching him into the air just as he started his descent.

Honestly, as the walls glowed with heat and spouted gouts of flame, he was reminded of the girls' parents' laboratory. Yet, in the same instance, it was tamer. Not as explosive.

If the complex could read his mind, it decided to let him know it was no pushover, and the wall to his right split open with a blast of scorching air.

Erembour, for his part, felt trapped in a dream as he stared down at the scientist before him. At the very large, very red button the man was currently sleeping upon.

The Demon had eventually slithered his way into one of the many labs in the ant-hive of a facility, assuming a form that was suitably intimidating to anyone under ten feet tall. And in that lab stood a rail-thin man, looking every bit as skittish as he turned out to be.

So, as he stalked into the main hub, it came as no surprise that the man's first response was to squeal like a sow and run blindly for the furthest corner.

What did surprise him?

The metal leg that'd suddenly formed from the nearby wall, knobby-kneed and boney as it stretched before the scientist who was too blind in his panic to see it.

Yet, even more hilariously, the button formed after the leg. Rising from the ground to connect perfectly with the man's face. And as a whisper, there came a feminine voice. Softly declaring, "Oops."

And then all Hell had broken loose.

It was much like the terminal they'd taken the ugly potato man to. Where deep in the bowels of the facility, machines chugged and churned. Ratcheting apart and putting into motion things that needed avoidance.

He tore off, claws staining the floor black where they touched as he searched each chamber this one lab of many.

Hopefully, this did not put the girls in danger.

The Hunter flew. Or to those in his path, that's how it appeared in their fading vision. As blood and tears alike flooded their eyes and their heads fell to the floor.

Coat smoking and eyes ablaze, he looked very much like a Reaper. Not a simple Dhampir on a mission as flashes of silver preceded his passing.

In the end, very few were spared his blade. Painting the searing floors and walls in crimson life.

Not that he could truly be blamed.

He'd caught a smell that was and was not them. Something that set his blood ablaze in the worst of ways because something about it reminded D of him. But that was trailing further down the shaft.

The fragrance that was wholly them took a right turn into a blown-out door. Something that had him, for just a moment (and a truth he would speak only to himself), fearing for the girls. As the scent thickened in the air, found his movements becoming more frenzied. More volatile.

Inside, a number of scientists were scattered about. Unconscious. Glass glittering amber on the floor as flames licked at the walls. It seemed that was the extent of the destruction, however. As if it'd just decided that this particular laboratory was far enough.

Yet, it did little to assuage the concern he felt.

Their blood was so thick in the air. Cloying. Much the same as it had been that night in Puregon.

This time, he did not find a girl screaming obscenities dangling from the ceiling, flesh torn and bleeding.

No.

This time, the small body was stretched across the glass-littered floor, spine glimmering in hues of orange. Terribly still. Horrendously silent as the cries of other captives echoed around them.

For some reason, he could only hear the girls. The rasp of their breaths as they eased in and out of lungs that continued their duties.

But they were alive.

Blessedly alive.

Smelling quite… peculiar.

"D…" Hand started, but the Hunter cut him off with a sharp denial as he gathered the limp form into his arms. "No, D. This can't be avoided like the other shit."

"I don't intend to avoid it, but there are more pressing matters."

And that was that. Something Hand couldn't really argue with as blood dripped down between the man's fingers.

Together, they damned the circumstances. Cursed the powers that be that decided his shoulders were strong enough to support the burdens they did.

As much as they hated it, D placed them onto the table they'd broken free of after shifting it back into a flat position. Turning his attention to the monitor that continued to diligently record information.

Only one panel claimed to be offline.

With there being no visible power source, he could only imagine it was receiving energy through the floor. Something they'd have likely been too weak to uproot. And considering the lights flickered in and out, he could only assume that it possessed a backup supply.

The few cords that connected to them could not be disconnected. Not by conventional means, at least.

Carefully, he did what the girls could not. Disabling the security protocols ingrained within the machine. And with an audible pop, the needles were ejected from their flesh. Clattering to the ground.

Too loud in the sudden quiet.

For a moment, he simply stared. Feeling so very tired as he eyed the chunks of flesh and offal that clung to the probes they'd ripped free

The blood pooled on the floor.

The holes that littered their form and seemed to struggle in their healing.

Perhaps the priority was on their brain. Logical, yet they were on the verge of bleeding out.

"They need blood."

He was aware. Painfully so.

The supplements were not an option. He wasn't certain of where the Vampires were acquiring their supply.

Wordlessly, just as the facility seemed to sleep and the fire suppression systems activated, he called out to the Demon. Immediately met with a sensation that acknowledged the request and begged for time. Yet, it didn't take long for him to appear. Panting and bloated as he shouldered his way into the room.

"Search for blood," D commanded, barely sparing a glance at the large canine as he wrapped the girls in his coat. And without pause, the hound was off.

Truthfully, he would need to find a way to get it into their system.

Force feeding? They would likely choke to death on it.

Tube feeding? His more likely option.

Somehow triggering their instincts to force them awake and drink? Unlikely.

But how could he be certain their body was processing it?

It was really his only option.

With chemicals clouding and cooling the air and shaft, D tread deeper into the bowels of the facility. Towards the smell that sparked a hate deep in his Soul.

Towards laboratories likely untouched by the destruction left at his rear.

He'd managed to find a place that smelled faintly of Laun and his mate, Edmont. A small comfort. Yet, it seemed no one had been housed in the room and facility in the time they'd been gone. Searched and scoured, but unlived in.

After the girls were tucked away in the upstairs bed, bleeding stymied for the moment, D traipsed back to the lower level in search of usable tubing. Something small enough to thread through their nose. It didn't need to be in perfect condition. Simply satisfactory.

After a time, he had the supplies in hand. All he needed was the blood.

Something Erembour did not return with.

"… Captives," he'd murmured bleakly, looking much the part of a hanged dog at his failure. "I could hunt."

They'd not seen any animals in the area. Likely because of the Vampiric inhabitants. Therein, such an idea was well intentioned while being impractical. And neither felt comfortable taking from the already traumatized Humans now making their way to the surface.

The few scientists that remained were hard passes.

"Mine?"

Good Lord, what would Demon blood do to them?

The Demon seemed to reconsider before D could say as much.

There were really only two choices left.

Either accept the side effects of the supplements or risk a reaction with his lifeblood.

Really, what a situation they'd found themselves in.

"Find a place for the remaining Vampires," D softly ordered as he poured alcohol over the tubing. "Someplace they are unable to escape."

"Got it."

And even though Erembour wanted nothing better than to stay at their side, he understood this was a necessity. That if they wanted answers, they needed a few of the bastards alive.

So, D was left to his own devices. Gingerly threading the 'sterile' lubricated tube through the girls' nostril. Down their throat. Down into their still leaking belly. And softly, he puffed a bit of air through the line and listened. Fairly certain the tube was in place but wanting to double check.

A quiet gurgle told him it was indeed correctly placed.

All that was left was to… feed them.

He'd just finished affixing a needle to the tube when blood gushed from betwixt Krista Rhea's legs, staining the duvet in a too-bright crimson. And soon after, clots. Dark in color as they eased their way out.

It was… distressing.

Yet, in some dark part of his mind that'd been jaded from millennia of hunting, he wondered if it wasn't for the best.

He still wouldn't wish it upon them. Not as their lips twisted and their brows furrowed. Could only be thankful that they weren't conscious as their body passed what could have been.

There was just… so much.

But there was nothing to be done.

Instead, he pressed the hollow needle into the artery running up the length of his forearm. Quietly praying his blood would not affect them in any way. Thinking of when they'd ingested just the slightest bit and spent the next few minutes howling and screaming.

Perhaps now that they were more accustomed to such things it would be different.

Erembour returned quite some time later. Tired, but more in the sense that he'd been active, not simply because he existed. And if that wasn't the nicest fucking feeling.

Yet, there was another type of exhaustion that swept over him when he spied the girls. The blood that continued to leak from their womb.

The Hunter was busying himself changing out linens. Rolling them onto something currently serving as an absorbent pad. Blood streaked across his pale skin as he put in all into a bin in the adjoining bathroom.

"… anything I can do?" he asked after a time.

D seemed to ponder the question for quite a bit, taking a moment to wash up before answering, "No. Not unless you wish to warm their belly."

It was something simple that satisfied his desire to be near them. To help them. Something he was more than capable of doing.

With little care for any blood that might find its way into his fur, he climbed atop the bed and wrapped himself about their body. Hind legs thrown over their hips. Snout nestled in the bend of their arm. A position that was not terribly uncomfortable.

"… what will you do?"

"I intend to search deeper in the facility." And that was as much information as he offered for the moment, casting the unconscious girls one last look before descending the spiral staircase into the lab.

So, there Erembour remained. Violet eyes staring into the darkness of the room as the girls' breath softly filled the silence.

It was a strange calm.

He wasn't sure what had stopped the facility's meltdown. Perhaps a lack of active Nobles? It had to be something leftover from the uncorrupted Anyd. A failsafe.

Perhaps she erased her knowledge of it.

They would never know, of course. Could only speculate. But it did seem oddly convenient.

The girls moaned quietly but did not stir. Fingers momentarily curling into the bedding. Unconsciously searching out anything that might bring them comfort. And with their hand finding the bulk of his fur, they were stilled.

Perhaps not silent, but quieted.

And patiently, he waited.

On edge.

Knowing they were safe, but wholly disquieted.

In those halls of death, where only D roamed, there was no danger.

Yet, he felt.

Slowly, Erembour settled down. Ears pricked.

He would sleep. Comfort the girls in the only way he knew how. And wait.

The Hunter returned, looking very much the same as he always did.

Yet…

Something appeared very off.

Perhaps it was his eyes. Perhaps it was the drag in his shoulders.

"… find anything?"

D did not respond. Choosing to instead nudge the Demon out of the way to feel of the girls' belly. Its bloated and distended nature. And with a firm touch, he massaged the area. Watching for excessive bleeding before he shifted Erembour back into place.

"… D?"

Still, the man did not answer as he moved about the room. And that prior weariness he seemed to carry gave way to irritation. Jaw tense and slim eyes narrowed.

From his coat he pulled out a select few tablets and began reading.

If he was being honest, the attitude was really bothering him.

He said nothing.

The Dhampir was a man on a mission and, if the past two times were anything to go off, would likely not answer until he'd found whatever he searched for.

With a huff, Erembour sank back into the girls to wait.

The Demon awoke to a colossal clattering, maw gaping and prepared to devour whatever served as a danger.

There was nothing.

Not a single thing.

Not even the Hunter.

Stretching out with a low groan, Erembour cast his eyes downwards. Wanting to check on the state of the girls' bleeding.

He did not see the bloodstained padding.

Instead, he stared down into the open maw of Hell. The slick, tacky brown walls that pulsated. The fire that burned deep in its bowels, steadily filling the room with the scent of rot and sulfur.

As arms pushed out of the walls, blindly reaching for him, he felt no fear. But he did feel apprehension.

It was little more than an omen.

A whisper of things to come.

A sure sign that something was awakening.

He would acknowledge the sign.

It didn't mean he needed to accept it.

The halls were alive. Screams echoing and bouncing about.

In the sleeping quarters, Erembour could just barely hear the commotion. But he was unconcerned. He would continue to watch over Krista Rhea until it was no longer deemed necessary or… well…

He would watch over them until it was no longer needed.

That was all.

Nothing more.

And if he took a moment to revel in the chaos?

He released a quiet huff and settled back down.

There was another round of ruckus.

This time, he was relieved to see that it was not a return of the Hellish maw.

Although, that wasn't saying much.

He might have preferred seeing that.

Instead?

It was coming from the attached lab.

After sparing the girls one more once over, Erembour rose from the bed and quietly made his way down the stairs. Poking his head around the corner of the entryway, more than prepared to attack if the need arose.

There was absolutely no need.

It did, however, greatly concern him that the Hunter was the source.

From across the room carried the countenanced carbuncle's voice as he muttered, "Gettin' pissy about it isn't gonna help."

Pissy? Did he… look it?

No. But then again, the man was exceptionally good at concealing his emotions.

Erembour crept into the room.

Closer now, he could see the tense line of the man's jaw. The fiery gleam to his eyes.

The table that'd been thrown across the room and was currently impaling the wall in the most impossible way.

Perhaps it was best not questioned.

"… what did you find?" he asked instead.

In the man's eyes, he could see that ire. Could see that he did not wish to speak on it.

True to this, the man did not speak. Instead, he pushed the tablet that sat upon another table (surprisingly safe from the man's wrath) closer to Erembour.

Later, when perched protectively over the girls, he wouldn't say he'd thrown a tantrum. Even if he had.

Alertness greeted them slowly. Dragging the haze of sleep from them with all the speed of a snail, until their eyes fluttered open and their gaze could sweep over the room.

For the third time in their lives, they awoke confused. Not knowing where they were.

What they had done to land themselves in a world where they were entirely too small. Where the furniture loomed above them and threatened to swallow them whole.

Barely able to recall their own names for a short time.

But they fought through the fog and slow building panic, pulling in a deep breath through their teeth.

'We are Krista Rhea.'

They swept out one arm, body feeling chilled and aching terribly.

'We are in a bed.'

Down their fingers travelled, digging into the fabric.

'The bed is wet.'

They sniffed, senses momentarily overwhelmed by the scent of wet copper.

'We are bleeding.'

Their heart, already beating too fast, flubbed pitifully.

'Why the fuck are we bleeding?!'

There was a noise that slowly filled the room. Raspy and wheezy in the worst of ways.

And then, a man they did not recognize appeared above them, his eyes glimmering despite the lack of light. Too close for comfort.

Yet, they wanted him near.

Closer.

Their head hurt.

They shouldn't want someone they did not know closer.

Should want to cover their no-no squares.

So, why did it not matter?

Their stomach cramped, hunger happily making itself known.

"Who—"

They coughed weakly, throat and mouth dry and irritated. And swallowing, they could feel something bob and wobble. Uncomfortable and foreign as it tugged on their nose.

Without thinking, they were reaching up to tug on the object trailing from their nostril.

"Don't."

His hand, cool yet warm, pushed down theirs. A small, baffling comfort.

Why did he look so bloody… disconcerted? All while looking so stoic?

Why couldn't they recall?

"… finally awake?"

Their head whipped about to stare at the source of the new voice. Another thing they felt they should know. Yet…

The dog was only another source of confusion.

Perhaps if they pretended to fall back asleep? Maybe that would give them a moment to collect their thoughts.

It didn't seem that was a viable option, however. Not when the man was gingerly working the wet bedding out from beneath their body. Ever careful to not jostle them as he fitted them with laundered linens after a quick, gentle cleaning.

It was something they appreciated, even if it did make them feel the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Now, the bed was dipping beneath him, softly creaking under the added weight. "How do you feel?"

Did they have the words to adequately describe how they felt?

They felt like a stranger in their own body.

This body that hurt and demanded food. That wanted nothing more than to slip back into slumber.

That craved for touch while simultaneously wanting to hide.

But they knew.

This man meant safety.

Comfort.

Love.

"I love you. But I can't ask Miss Haldwyn if my love is the love she meant."

Fuck.

Pain spread across their forehead, sinking behind their eyes until their surroundings blurred into one muddled color.

"Don't force it."

They did not want to, but it was frustrating to feel as if they were forgetting something.

They didn't just feel it. They knew.

"Are you hungry?"

Thirsty. Their mouth felt filled with cotton. And while they were hungry, thoughts of eating were quickly upsetting their already-tepid stomach.

A glass hovered above them, the smallest sum of water swirling within. Something that would be just enough to wet their whistle and soothe their throat. Maybe.

Too bad their up wasn't working.

It was broke.

They were broke.

Everything was broke.

Quietly, he pulled them upwards and pressed the glass to their lips. And it was so bloody sweet and refreshing that they didn't feel a need to complain about the circumstances. Not until the man was propping them up against the dog.

Admittedly, the dog was very warm and pleasantly soft. However…

'Why the Hell is he rolling up his sleeve?'

"I can feed you using the tube running down your throat," he started, continuing to roll the fabric up his arm. "Or, if you have the strength and you so wish it, we can remove the tube."

Removing the tube did sound lovely.

But with their appetite dampened by the thought of food, what would they eat?

"He could hunt, although it might take quite a while."

They eyed the rear of the dog.

"Or, you may take directly from me."

Was he seriously suggesting they butcher him?

"Not my flesh."

Then… what else was there?

They weren't sure they wanted to know. Not with the way the needle in his grasp glimmered, because the implications were just absurd.

But what if they weren't?

Nope! They wouldn't go there.

Their eyes slid shut, and it was all too easy for sleep to sweep them away.

Unfortunately, sleep could not take them away from the situation forever. D intended to keep them in the lab until they returned to themselves, as there were things they needed to see and take care of before they could leave.

For now, however, he would allow them to shut down and recuperate. So, with little adieu, he pierced the vein. Silently praying this bout of amnesia would be short lived.

It was dark.

So very fucking dark.

They were in a place that likely should have been more than just a black, soul-sucking expanse of nothingness. Yet, it was just that. Occupied only by them. Two girls who looked strikingly similar, wholly different.

"Kinda childish, just sittin' here. Hidin'," Rhea murmured.

"Maybe." But Krista needed a moment. Needed a place far away from the Hunter.

Yes, he was a hunter, wasn't he?

The Hunter.

But why?

That pain returned.

They could push through… couldn't they?

Perhaps they could, but for just a bit, they had no desire to.

The shaft was bereft of life when their bare feet met the chilled metal.

They weren't sure what they expected, but they'd been praying that no one else was around.

Having awoken with a good amount of strength and no one to watch, Krista and Rhea made the executive decision to prowl about. See what they could see. Perhaps walk out the aches deep in their belly and bones.

As it was, the walk wasn't helping. It only served to invoke feelings of ick and such as blood trailed down their thighs. Smearing about and slicking up the skin until it created a tacky mess.

At least they were leaving a trail for the man to follow if they crapped out somewhere?

Something they didn't want to think much more upon.

However, life didn't seem to care very much for what anyone thought. Because they were certainly continuing to leave their weird trail of breadcrumbs in these halls of cold and lonely steel as they idly wondered where the mystery man and hound had disappeared to.

Not that it mattered. Or should. But it did.

Of course, it would likely make more sense for it to matter if they would just… remember. But they continued to just ignore it.

Despite the walk doing nothing aside from leaving them disgusted, they had no intention of stopping. Making use of their questionably exceptional sniffer to guide them through the shaft. Down into the depths of this facility where there seemed to be a significant amount of traffic from the man in black.

There was a rush of liquid down their thighs, and they paused to momentarily shake a glob loose.

Undeniably repulsive, but…

They would rather not steep in the mess in the bed.

Deeper.

Until (if it weren't for the blood) they couldn't be sure which way they'd come from.

Where the lights seemed too dim and a strange haze hung in the air.

But they were in the midst of the activity, surrounded by a multitude of doors in the honeycomb-shaped area that led off into more similarly shaped facilities.

If only they could figure out where they'd been going.

It was just as they spied a likely door, torn apart and rendered useless, that they heard the man call out to them. Something that had them fleeing for the opposite end of the room with a petrified squeak. Terrified he would be upset at them for roaming.

Hunting them?

Why the Hell would he be hunting them?

Had he at one point?

Yes.

And part of them reckoned they certainly wouldn't mind being hunted by this man. Not with their lives on the line, but…

What the fuck?

"I am not upset."

Oh.

Well.

That was good.

"However, I would rather you not enter that room."

Their eyes flickered over to the mauled door. Brought closer by their panicked run. And if they were quick enough, they could dip into its opening before the man could reach them.

There was really only one logical thought to be had when faced with such circumstances.

"Fuck yoooooou!"

Time seemed to slow as the man's gaze darkened. Something that possibly should not have sent the thrill it did through them. But it wasn't something they wanted to waste precious time pondering.

With a grunt, they launched their aching body the measly ten meters towards the door. Or, at least they attempted to, feet barely off the ground before the man was wrapping them in a bearhug to end all bearhugs. Pulling them kicking and kind-of-but-not-really screaming away from their destination.

"No! What are you hiding?!"

The man stilled. An eerie stillness that set their teeth on edge and spoke to them in ways they could not explain. And it was a terrible feeling knowing that he was indeed keeping things from them, yet… what could they do when they were unable to fight him?

His grasp gradually loosened until their bare feet were once again on the floor. Not completely releasing them, but no longer squeezing the piss out of them. "There is knowledge within that room that will hurt you."

This gave them pause.

Not for long, but for a moment.

"Knowledge you should not be alone for."

"Then come with us."

Silence as he weighed his options.

"I had hoped you would remember yourselves before now," he eventually spoke.

"Why?"

Still within his arms, as if the limbs were a muscled wall that could deflect any number of emotional ouchies, they moved with him past the destroyed door and into a lab. A lab filled with too many glass cannisters and machines.

They stared at the tubes, spaced evenly across the expanse of the room and filled to the brim with a viscous fluid. Yet, within those tubes… well…

They couldn't fathom what was floating in that liquid.

Perhaps they could. But their brain refused. Could not and would not comprehend because whatever it was tore at their Souls in ways they felt shouldn't have been possible. And while the Hunter's hold was a comfort, it did not negate that pain.

"So that you might grieve properly."

They did not remember, yet his words gave them a certain clarity. And with it came an all-consuming mash of confusion, despair, and rage.

They weren't sure how, but they'd been denied something.

Denied something beautiful and precious and sacred.

Had it stolen from them, only to be rejected and mutated until the only thing keeping it clinging to its miserable existence was the fluid it was suspended within.

"How?" they said in a broken and gasping whisper. But soon, their face was twisting with anger. Eyes burning and teeth bared as they hissed, "How many?"

"Too many."

Desperation.

"D!"

And just like that, everything was washing over them. A knowledge that these were what could have been. What should have been.

Tiny, twisted beings with even tinier fingers and toes that would never feel the warmth of the sun. The tickle of grass.

Would never giggle and gurgle in delight.

Would never feel more than a fleeting whisper that was their love.

But… if everyone had a mother and a father, and they were the mother…

"This child would be my half-sibling."

That whining noise was escaping them again.

They felt used. Disgusted.

Utterly disheartened that it wasn't somehow D's child.

"Open it," Rhea demanded, despite Krista's reservations and desires to flee the room. Teeth bared as she glared daggers at the tube. "Give us our child."

There was a moment of hesitation. Perhaps he was merely being reassuring as he shortly squeezed them tighter. But he was already on the move to the control panels at the tube's side when he said, "The child will die soon after leaving the chamber."

"We know. But… please…"

With a small, understanding nod, his hand swept over the keys. Typing in a few commands before, with a pop and a hiss, the container began draining. Pipes gurgling and chugging until the child, little more than a mass of melting flesh, rested at the bottom.

They smelled unnatural.

Of rot and chemicals and unnatural growth.

The girls felt disgust, yet… Gods, they were terribly saddened and enraged. And a thousand thoughts went through their minds. Things they couldn't help (and hated) to think as they opened the tube.

They're beautiful.

They're disgusting.

They shouldn't be alive.

Killing them would be a mercy.

What would be the quickest way? Snapping their neck?

It isn't the child's fault.

They shouldn't be punished.

Shouldn't have their life cut short.

D would do it.

Couldn't ask him to.

Suddenly, D was pressing the chilled babe into their grasp. Silent, barely breathing. All the things a baby shouldn't be as it squirmed weakly in their hold. Instinctually seeking out the comfort of a warm body.

Their face twisted, nose burning as they clutched the tiny body closer.

Unable to look away from the mark that collapsed in upon itself. Glowing and swirling and knowing. Understanding that their child would never have the freedoms they were given. A laughable thought, really, but something that rang true.

They'd had a freedom their child would not.

"Come."

They startled at D's soft command and equally gentle touch. Swaddling the babe up into a bit of the Hunter's coat suddenly draped about their shoulders before following his lead. And it was eerie. Following their intermittent trail of blood. Listening to the baby gurgle and rasp as it struggled against its failing body.

They wished things were different…

Yet, things continued to remain the same as they padded through those cold tunnels.

The baby squeaked. A breathy noise that barely qualified as a cry.

Was it cold?

In pain?

Hungry?

What would the poor thing even eat?

They pressed the tip of their pinkie finger to the babe's deformed lips and watched in awe as it attempted to suckle.

Despaired as they realized they had no idea on how they would feed it.

They did not possess milk.

In a facility of Vampires, they highly doubted there would be any reserves of milk. Formula. Stuff?

"D? What do we feed them?"

Silence.

"D, please."

The Hunter turned to look at them then. Looking more weary than they'd ever seen. A tiredness shadowing his already dark eyes as he slowly cast his gaze upon the babe.

"I don't know that we will have time to find out."

They hated to think that he was right.

But it was undeniable, something they simply did not want to admit.

"Something is draining them faster than I anticipated."

Dread swept over them. A cold and sickly feeling as they wondered if it was somehow them, subconsciously attempting to end them faster despite their desire to keep them there longer.

"… it's not you."

Their eyes snapped up to D's shoulder, at the small Demon squirming out from under the collar of his clothes and his curtain of hair. Both males had their attention directed at the air around them. Staring with a startling intensity at something the girls could not see as it swirled and danced before their eyes.

"… might be that Mother. Whoever or whatever she is."

"Someone I am coming to greatly dislike," said D

To this, Krista and Rhea could agree that their disdain would increase exponentially if 'Mother' were behind the babe's increased rate of deterioration. And they would tell her to fuck right off, deity or not.

"I gave them what Mother wouldn't. I force-fed their connection. And it was just enough to root them. Now, she has no choice but to see them."

A fire alit their eyes, and they stared at that ugly mark upon the child's forehead. Watching it churn with a nauseating speed.

"Please, stop taking from them."

Their voice was barely a whisper. Warbling and breathy as all the heat from that fire became lodged in their throat. Choking them.

Despite their plea, however, it only seemed to glow brighter. A hastening that was possibly confirmed by the minute wrinkles forming betwixt the Hunter's brows. Erembour's curling lips.

The babe's heartbeat becoming rapid and thready.

That desperation welled within them until it erupted past their lips in a shriek that startled all in their vicinity. "Mother, fucking stop!"

Beneath their feet, dulled by the layers of metal constructing the facility, the earth seemed to shudder. As if this Mother was appalled by their gall. The sheer audacity to dare use such language and demand of her.

Yet, the mark dimmed, and all was quiet.

"If you listen hard enough, sometimes you can hear the Earth whisper back."

They listened.

Rhea and Krista listened as hard as feasible.

Physically.

Mentally.

If Mother spoke, it landed upon deaf ears.

It was a silence that pressed in upon them like a lead weight. Crushing them. Squeezing the light from their life.

Could they simply not hear her words?

Or did she not believe the girls were worthy of a response?

Either way, the girls spoke. Possibly to a Mother that cared very little for what they thought. But they would speak their minds and be heard.

"We know our child is dying. With or without your help. But we want what we would naturally get without your help."

In that moment, as the crushing silence seemed too much upon them, they were infinitely grateful for D's hand upon their shoulder. A steady, grounding force that simultaneously kept them afloat as they commanded, "Fuck off, Mother. At least for a little while."

The baby's condition did not improve.

It continued to deteriorate, but at a much more reasonable pace. Something more in line with D's original predictions.

Now, however, the babe did not suckle as if hungry. Merely listlessly squirmed, nuzzling and looking for warmth. Squeaking quietly as the girls settled upon the bed, looking absolutely wretched.

Nothing at all what an infant should look like.

Not even a little bit.

Their head bobbed tiredly.

Something had changed when they'd shouted at Mother. Something that couldn't be seen but could certainly be felt. They just weren't sure what.

Perhaps they'd simply exhausted their mental resources between remembering and the baby and the Mother and the dying that was happening.

Or perhaps Mother was punishing their impudence.

They didn't really know her, yet it seemed like the type of thing she would do.

Divine retribution or some shit.

Could the mother be considered divine?

They groaned, sinking deeper into the bedding before settling the babe at their side. Aches and pains they'd managed to ignore coming back with a vengeance.

To their side, D moved about. Reorganizing the tubes that they'd thrown to one side once they'd risen (something they were infinitely grateful they were not forced to remove on their own) before he sat on the edge of the bed. Hat off. Left hand upturned with the countenanced carbuncle quietly watching. Demon perched on his shoulder.

Again, they were grateful.

They did not want to be alone.

Perhaps he felt obligated, but it felt more like he did it out of the kindness of his heart. And if they hadn't been convinced he was just as conflicted as he made them feel about what he wanted, they certainly were in that moment. Convinced that he was indeed looking to protect them with his distance, but also… as if he couldn't quite decide whether he was truly convinced by his own convictions.

The babe's breath hitched for a moment before continuing to rasp deep in its tiny little chest.

They couldn't do this.

"Lay with us," Rhea demanded. Desperate for the man's companionship and comfort. And Krista stayed silent because there was nothing to add when she was just as anxious. Nothing to say except a small 'please'.

But if D had any objections, he kept them to himself. Sinking into the mattress with nary a sound.

Their exhaustion swept over them, pushing their vision into darkness as they pulled the babe into their breast. Back to D's chest. Very thankful when his arm slipped about their midsection.

It wouldn't be long. Not with the way the mark pierced their eyelids.

But they'd be asleep long before the babe could pass.

Avoidance? Probably.

But they prayed that what wherever the babe ended up, they would know that the girls cared.

That the girls loved.

That the girls were terribly sorry they couldn't prevent such a sad existence.