Breathing in the fresh air of the outside world was a surreal moment for the blonde. While her time inside Malcolm's home had only stretched for roughly a day, she felt like she had been there for so much longer. Still, no amount of time – long, or short – could have resulted in her emerging from that torture chamber mentally unscathed.

Running down that cobblestone road with Ethan only clouded her consciousness further. Bela was on auto-pilot, gliding through the events as her thoughts detached. All she could think about was what had been left behind in there.

Edith and Mabel.

The scenery around her went silent. By the time her mind had snapped to, only to hear Ethan's yelling, Bela could not recall if she had heard anything prior. It was the gunshot he discharged at one of the mutated birds that ended up bringing her focus back.

She was so out of it.

Along their way back to the constable station, the duo had managed to attract the attention of a flock of the feathered creatures. The dark skies made it difficult to discern just how many had appeared over the rooftops of those tall, pointed buildings. Judging by the sheer multitude of squawks, there could have been at least twenty or more.

Twenty or more too much.

The winged terrors had descended upon them in an instant, undeterred by the two that Ethan shot down. It forced Bela to run with him into the closest building possible – a tall, four-story dwelling that had not been boarded up.

As soon as the door had been closed, all that was left was the noise of the animals scratching on the wood. They wanted to get in so badly. Some hurled themselves at the windows like kamikaze pilots. It took nothing for them to shatter, causing an explosion of glass as the animals funneled through into the interior.

She and Ethan had to dart up the stairs, risking the likelihood that they would run into further danger. There was no time to clear each room. No way for either one to assess the surroundings properly. It was only raw survival at hand.

Bela had been too flustered to react to the bird that had swooped up in between the gaps of the stairwell and latched onto her back. Had Ethan not used the stock of his gun to knock the hungry mutant off, her spine would have been sliced up by its massive claws.

He didn't even have time to shoot it. They just had to keep running.

The final room on the highest floor was the only one that they entered. The only one whose door was unlocked. The second they passed through, the man slammed the barrier shut and barricaded it with everything that he had. It was the same situation up there as it had been down below: birds fighting to make their way inside.

Thankfully, there were no windows next to it for them to bash through – not by the entrance, anyway.

As soon as the door had been secured with a table, Ethan quickly pointed out the several glass windows that lined the walls nearby. Aware that these creatures were more resourceful than they looked, the decision was then made to take shelter in another room, lest the birds ventured back outside so that they may crash through yet again.

Bela and Ethan had taken shelter inside a small space located in the back corner of this apartment-like residence. The lack of lighting on all sides had obscured any clue as to what was around them. The blonde worried that they were being watched by something that had yet to announce its presence, but as soon as the man flashed his light, that fear went away.

Or, it mostly did. She still could not shake what that house had done to her. The lingering feeling of always having a set of eyes on her was nerve-wracking, and it wasn't going to go away any time soon.

She broke a sigh of exhaustion as she sat down, only to rear her head up when Ethan pointed out a hatch on the ceiling.

An attic?

With a cable to release the door, the hatch had sprung open into a collapsible ladder. It had seemed like luck was still on their side, for now. Seizing the chance to place themselves further from the reach of these monsters, there was almost no communication between either of them as they climbed up and pulled the hatch shut.

Sealed away in the upper level of the building, Ethan ran his light across their surroundings as he sought to survey what they had in store. Boxes upon boxes. Clothing and supplies. Several spare lanterns, set on top of a short shelf. This attic was more akin to Kyia's shelter than it was to one somebody's home may have had.

Just as Ethan was ready to thank Lady Luck for their fortune, he ceased his words immediately.

His light had exposed the presence of a still-decomposing skeleton nestled up in the corner. There was no stench. No flies to feast on the remains. Dark stains were glimpsed in some areas around it, mostly on the blanket it sat on. The small barber's razor underneath its right arm explained it all.

Ethan snatched another blanket out of one of the boxes and threw it over the body. He did not say one word about it. They had both seen enough death that there was no need to point it out – not in a world like this.

However, it wasn't until he leaned over the pile of bones to ensure that it was covered that he noticed the droplets of fresh blood fall onto the cotton cover. His arm. It was still wounded. All of the adrenaline that poured into his body from the flock of birds had caused him to forget about the gunshot that he had endured.

Ethan quietly hissed through his teeth as he trotted back to Bela, clutching the crimson-coated portion of his right arm. "Fuck."

The fact that he had carried on as normal throughout this entire endeavor was nothing short of mind-boggling. There was no telling just how much blood he had lost along the way. It left no doubt that the birds would pick up the scent and continue their assault.

That, or Vikcia.

He sat down and pulled his coat off, reminding himself that he had retained mobility and control of his elbow and hand. Had that bullet collided with his humerus, the bone would have exploded, and that arm would have been done.

There were no spurts of bright red blood. Hell, if an artery had been struck, he would have been dead long ago.

Just a flesh wound. One that needed immediate medical care, yes, but a flesh wound. He still had a chance. Lady Luck was watching over him, even if the circumstances were less than favorable.

Bela's eyes turned to the damage as soon as Ethan's flashlight set itself on the hole in his hoodie. Snapping out of her funk for the time being, the blonde scurried over to help. "Are you alright?"

"Kind of hurts like a bitch," Ethan replied, his face straining under the washing pain of the injury. This could have been a lot worse, he imagined. A few degrees to the right, and Malcolm would have planted that round dead center in his chest. "But I'm alright. Never been shot before, though," he joked.

"I need you to take that off." She pointed to his hoodie, motioning for it to come up. The man spared no second doing so, but he struggled to lift his arm in certain directions. Bela had to render assistance, watching carefully so that he would not get hurt more than he already had.

Once the sleeve rolled through his arm, the destruction to Ethan's right tricep was loud and clear. The bullet had skimmed through the side, blasting a valley along his muscle. Thankfully, everything critical had been spared, but the two-and-a-half-inch-long channel was not to be ignored. It was soaked from top to bottom in blood and had to be taken care of.

Ethan pointed to his coat, which lay on the ground next to them. "My medicine bottle should still be in there somewhere," he informed her.

Bela quickly dragged the coat over to her, snagging his flashlight so that she could see exactly what she was grabbing at. The contents of its pockets were nearly endless. Ethan had gathered so many little things throughout his journey between both worlds that she would have compared him to a hoarder, had the situation been anything less serious.

She combed through every nook and cranny, feeling for the glass container that she had used before. The weight of the coat was so heavy on her hands. It was like she had been holding an entire suitcase at this rate.

"Which pocket can it be in?!" Bela grew impatient, but it only came out in a distressed voice.

Speaking calmly so that she could not find herself overwhelmed, Ethan clarified the location for her, "Bottom left." He pointed to it again. "Yeah, right there! Your hand is right over it."

Bela dug her hand into the pocket below, and sure enough, there was that bottle snug in her grasp. As soon as she withdrew the item from its holding place, she popped open the top and angled it over Ethan's injury. "Ready?" She asked.

He closed his eyes, prepared for what was to come. "Go for it."

The liquid spilled out, unleashing a searing path of wrath in its wake. Ethan's legs kicked around as he tensed up. His lips rolled in, while his eyes were firmly pressed shut. The man looked like he wanted to scream. He probably should have.

Setting the bottle down, Bela took hold of his knife and used it to begin cutting up strips of cloth from one of the blankets nearby. "Do you have a needle and a thread?"

Ethan shook his head. "Nope."

She gazed at his wound again, knowing how something like that was going to require more than a simple bandage. "Please tell me that there must be a needle and thread somewhere!" Bela dropped everything that she had in her hands and took the flashlight with her as she began to comb through the boxes.

Frantically, the woman pushed the contents around, desperately trying to find whatever she could that would keep Ethan's arm from getting worse. Seconds stretched on, only adding to her mental dilemma. The blonde's movements increased in speed, causing her to become more disheveled with each passing throw.

She was losing control. The ocean of anxiety that had been introduced into her heart would drown her soul at any second. Ethan had to keep her steady.

"We can just wrap it," he said, remembering the numerous times he had suffered worse inflictions, only for them to be solved with a quick splash and a prompt bandaging. His insistence that all was well did not reach its mark, sadly, as Bela only began to shake the box in her hand.

"How can this damn place not have what we need?!" Her scream got so loud that he had to shush her. If anything on the outside were to have just heard them, the last thing they would need to worry about would be his gunshot wound. Bela did not respond directly to Ethan's intervention, only falling into a bout of silence right after.

It left him with no choice but to do the bandaging himself. This wasn't an argument of any sort. Both of them were way past that point. He knew that she had just been through hell, even if he had no idea what kind of hell it had truly been.

Just like Mia, after all the terror she had lived through inside the Baker residence for three years, trauma was not something that could be solved with a simple talk. Most of all, getting to that talk at all was not going to happen so easily.

He had to give her time.

Bela slumped beside the box, quiet as ever. She would hardly turn her eyes to Ethan as he worked on himself, feeling like a failure for not being of any use to him. A million thoughts swam through her mind, all while her body remained still.

I can't believe we made it out of there. It still feels like I'm back in that cage, even though I'm not. Ethan got hurt pretty badly, but it looks like he's got it under control. That bullet wound looks serious. He needs to sew it shut. It's going to get infected. I can't lose him. I don't want to lose him. Argh! Why do I still feel like Malcolm is in here, somewhere? I know he's dead. I saw him die. No. No, I didn't. Vikcia must have killed him, right?

Staring down at the floor, her focus only returned to the world when Ethan stood up. Her daze washed away, and Bela's amber eyes followed him as he walked over to his coat, which was near her.

"I'm going to grab a match and light up one of these lanterns," he said. She did not respond, only gazing at him in a collected stupor for a few seconds. Ethan nodded, taking the responsibility of replying off her shoulders. He plucked a half-used matchbook out of one of the pockets and proceeded to pick up a lantern from the box.

With a swipe, the head was lit with a tiny flame, which touched upon the oil reservoir. After a careful twist, the lantern filled the room with a bright yellow glow, sweeping away much of the darkness around them. There were no windows to give away their position. No way that the birds below could see the light.

This was their moment to unwind and breathe. They were safe up here.

Ethan carried the lantern over as he set it down in between them. It reminded him of the way they would sit and talk in between fights with the monsters that ran amok wherever they journeyed. He hoped that it would help ease Bela's tension, but the blonde hardly appeared to be in good spirits. The light had managed to capture her interest for a bit, however. She glanced at it with an abject curiosity, fixating on the center like a fly to a lantern.

A fitting role, given what she used to be.

That very thought crossed Ethan's mind. He wanted to chuckle, but he held it all back. This wasn't the time for laughter. After what he had stumbled upon back in that home, he feared that she had been put through so much torment. Her physical body may have made it out intact, but her emotions were noticeably damaged.

He'd try to see where she stood. "Still got some of this left." He held the green remedy bottle up, showing it to her as he waved it in a small circle. "Any cuts or injuries for you?"

She shook her head, setting her eyes down on the floor immediately. "No." Her voice was so weak and afraid. It confirmed what he was worried about.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

Her posture did not change. "No."

"Okay." Ethan looked away as he pressed his lips. This was not something that he excelled at, and he knew that well. Talking to Mia about her problems was probably the hardest thing he had ever had to do. It wasn't finding the heart to do so that challenged him; it was getting the results. Following the disaster at the Baker house, they both escaped with their own troubled memories. Hers just happened to have spanned three years, while his was only one single night.

One night was still enough to batter his consciousness for the years to come. His wife was never one to confront such issues, and she only doubled down on that personality trait afterward. Ethan found himself having to be the one to initiate those conversations, as Mia wanted nothing more than to just forget. Things got better after they settled into their new home. She became pregnant, which offered the prospect of a normal life.

That was probably what she had always wanted the most, he thought. Normalcy. He wanted that too. Both their lives had been upended without a warning. Moving to a new country, under the supervision of Chris and the agency he worked for.

Ethan's quest for answers was one that he could never complete. Questions often had dead ends and silent voices. The more he learned, the more he had to ask. It was like cutting the head off a hydra. Just when you thought you had slain the mighty beast, it kept coming back in force. He wanted to give up so often. Mia likely already had. She'd retreat into a heated rage whenever he pestered her to talk about what happened.

There were so many fights that should have never occurred. For a few months, especially after Rose had been born, Ethan felt like he should just put it to rest. It was like the fights were nothing more than the product of his inquisitive nature. Mia was never the talker at all, but leaving her to fend for herself was not in his nature either.

With the lantern glowing between them, he wondered just what kind of person Bela was. In his best guess, he figured that she was probably worse. They had entered this world as bitter enemies. Every interaction at the start had been nothing short of constant fighting. Countless were insults hurled his way, backed by her aggressive –

No. That was not who she was. Not anymore.

"Hey, Bela?" Ethan only saw a broken soul sitting down across from him. Even before she had been taken by that man, the blonde had displayed a substantial turnaround. All he could think about was the way he had treated her right before she stormed out.

"Yeah?" There was that weak voice yet again. The woman still would not look up at him.

"Are you cold?"

Her lips parted, but she could not muster any words. Ethan gave her a moment, but she still would not answer. Was she too scared? He didn't know, but the way she held the chest of her gown made him think that she would have felt better being covered up. He got up from where he sat, double-checking that the blood had not soaked through his makeshift bandage.

It had.

Not saying another word, Ethan picked up a blanket from the pile inside the box and offered it to Bela. She extended her hand, only to hesitate to grab it. "Here," he said, "I'll help you."

The cover was softly wrapped over her shoulders, which allowed her to clutch the sheet and hold it tight. She needed a layer of security over her body. The air touching her skin made her feel as exposed as she had been inside Malcolm's room.

Bela could still sense the touch of his hands against her breasts. The looseness of her gown did not differ from the mobility of her nude body. She needed to feel clothed, and despite being so, the actions of that man would not go away.

Thank you, Ethan.

She pulled the edge of the blanket further up against her neck as he sat back down and started to reapply additional layers of bandages to his wound. Her fingers graced the surface of her throat as she held her hand there. Her choker with the red jewel. Her assortment of necklaces. All gone.

Malcolm had removed the accessories, likely disposing of them at some point during her captivity. Maybe that was why she felt so naked. She wasn't used to being like this. Those assortments had always been a part of her livelihood and who she was. It was just another way for him to strip away everything that she had held near and dear.

I have to stop thinking about that bastard.

Bela tried to shut her mind off. She needed to rest up. It was just nice to finally be out of that cage. She realized that she had yet to pull up her hood, having allowed her half-shaven scalp and crater-like scar to remain in full view. As much as she wanted to hide it, the blonde was far too drained to do so.

It would stay down.

Ethan undid his bandage, pouring more solution from the green bottle onto it as soon as the layers came off. His eyes were centered on the injury, wondering why it had not healed yet. Another splash of the cure, but nothing to show for it. Cutting up some more strips of the spare blanket, he began to wrap the wound tight and tie it off. A few more strips, and his upper arm had been wrapped up completely. His hoodie would remain off for now, but at least the bleeding seemed to have been controlled.

With a careful splash of the liquid onto the rest of his arm, Ethan used the remainder of the blanket to clean off the excess blood that had dried up along it. The cleanup job wasn't perfect, leaving multiple traces of crimson stained across his skin afterward, but it was better than what it had been before.

He still wondered why his wound had yet to patch itself up. The man's body had suffered through greater carnage beforehand and had repaired itself with relative ease. Why was this now so different?

Bela peeked over at him, shifting her body around so that she could keep the blanket he had given her over her crossed legs. "How is that going?" She eyed his arm.

"Better," he replied, shrugging it off. "I'm just glad that son of a bitch didn't shoot me in the gut."

"Yeah…me too…"

"But, hey, we made it." Ethan wanted to remain optimistic.

Bela shut her eyes slowly and gave a sheepish nod. The woman was so visibly defeated. "Mhmm."

"Do you need another blanket?"

That nod turned into a horizontal rotation.

"Can I tell you something?" He caught her attention. Bela reared her head at him. "I'm glad to be back with you."

"Me too," Bela quietly remarked. "How did you know where I was?"

Ethan took a breath as he sat forward, dragging his long gun over to his side. "It was actually pretty strange, if you ask me. I had another round of visions run through my head when I was sleeping. I saw…a few things. One of them was you being taken by that man."

Huh? How?

"You saw me being taken?"

"Flashes of it," he corrected his words. "It was a barrage of images that I witnessed, but they just kept coming. It painted a picture of what had gone down. I just knew that I had to go and find out for myself. I remembered the area. We walked past it during the period of daylight."

That was why I think I saw Malcolm when I was alone out there. He was always so close. Wait, Malcolm…. his walks!

"Ethan, can you pass me that coat?" Bela pointed to the dark garment that had been laid down near the entrance. She needed to inspect it. There had to be an answer as to why that sick man could walk the streets of Serpenmoor without being slaughtered. Ethan acted on her request and once again got back up. As soon as he retrieved the coat, he presented it to the blonde, and she spread it out on the wooden floor.

Ugh, it still smells like him. So many pockets.

With the blanket still being held around her shoulder, Bela sacrificed the hold of one of her hands as she pressed her palm over each pocket, hoping to find something inside that would stand out. It did not take long for an anomaly to show up. She could feel a softness under his breast pouch. With a quick click of the button, the top was opened, and her fingers dove in.

Folded pieces of paper. Letters?

This shouldn't make a difference. What else could be in there?

Bela set the papers down by her side as she resumed her search. After another round of checking to see what his coat had in store, she finally detected the presence of something jagged and hard underneath the bottom pocket on the left side. As soon as her hand entered, the presence of a metallic object made itself known with a deep prick of the finger.

Damn it!

She pulled her hand back, her thumb pushing against the pad of her forefinger. A large circle of blood formed immediately. With a sigh, Bela turned the coat over and shook it out. As expected, another metal fragment fell onto the floor.

Was this what he was using the whole time?

With caution, she reached down and plucked the shard off the ground, and inspected it under the lantern light. Ethan instantly noticed what she had in her possession, and the man's eyes lit up with caution.

"Is that another fragment?" He moved in closer. "Wait, just wait. Did you get cut with that?"

She showed him her finger. Ethan sighed and eased his stance. There was nothing else he could do now. "I don't know what is going on, but ever since I cut myself with the one we found together, I've been getting more of those visions, like I said. Hearing voices. Seeing things that… I don't know."

Bela angled the fragment in front of her eyes, speaking somberly as she reflected on what followed, "So, that's why you saw what you saw back there…before I left?"

He rolled the corner of his mouth, feeling a sense of regret for the way he had engaged her. It wasn't anything else besides sheer, blind anger. The justification had been there at the time, or at least in the eyes of a father with a crushed heart. From the way she spoke, Bela still felt broken. Ethan no longer saw her as the killer he had met before. Now, she was a sorrowful woman who had been dismantled by the world around her.

The fact that he had a hand in that only plagued him with guilt.

"I saw one thing at first, but then I saw another," he explained. "And what I saw showed me that I had not seen enough. Whatever that metal did to me, I don't know. But it keeps sending me these things in my head. Kyia was right. There is some kind of power inside them."

Bela set the fragment down, but her imagination circulated everything that Ethan had said. She painted the possibilities on the canvas of her mind. Asking more questions would have sharpened the drawing, but this artist's arm was too weak to do so. She'd leave her work the way it was.

"Malcolm said that he was able to walk these streets by himself without fear of being killed," she said, curling her legs up to her chest. "He thanked his faith for it."

Ethan brushed his hand up along the side of his bandaged arm, spitting out a hollow chuckle. "I don't think that worked out too well for him. Is that why you took his coat?"

"Yes." She tightened the blanket around her some more. Just talking about that man made her skin shiver. She could already feel her breasts being pressed together again.

"I guess that fragment must have been what kept him safe all along," Ethan remarked. "Well, until he left without it."

Then Vikcia arrived…

She wanted to say more, but this conversation had already become too much to handle. Bela's shoulders shook with the sense of fear re-emerging. That blanket could only cover her so much. "Do you mind if we just forget about this, for now?"

There would be no debate. Ethan did not want to press the matter further. "We could do whatever you want."

"Thank you." Bela relaxed a bit as she bundled herself up in the blanket. The way the man had just spoken to her brought forth a warmth in her heart. She used to see him as nothing but an insolent pest, but the way he treated her was nothing short of kind. Malcolm would beat and ridicule her, telling her how weak she was.

Ethan tried his best to make her feel comfortable. Even the blanket he had given her was a well-received gesture. Breaking from her traumatic ordeal, Bela began to fixate on the conversation that she had shared with Edith. The way she had admitted her love for the man, was it true?

Could Bela Dimitrescu find affection?

I sounded so confident in myself when I spoke to her. So happy. He really does make me feel that way. I feel safe in this room. I'm just glad he's here. Love? Can I accomplish such a thing? I shouldn't just love someone because they are nice to me. I know that's not right. Ugh, why all these standards? What else do they do besides box me in? I can hardly breathe sometimes. I just want to be free, but free from what?

Those amber-infused orbs peered at him again, studying every aspect of his person. Ethan was far too engaged in his bandage to notice her staring at him. That was what inspired the confidence in her to do so. She'd make use of every micro-second that she was given to seek out what appealed to her.

Attraction? Was it ever there?

Hmm, such a handsome face. I guess I never put much thought into it. He is so nice. So much love in his heart. I think a lot of women would want something like that. He looks strong, in some ways. Not the knight in shining armor that Daniela always went on about. That sister of mine and her fairy tales. So silly…

She pursed her lip as she reconsidered the opinion she had long held.

But what if I want a fairy tale? I always told myself that it was stupid. Mother always told me that I needed to focus on our family. I love my family, but can't I have something of my own? If Ethan isn't the one who will fill that role, shouldn't there be space for someone else? I do all these things, but I want a man to be the one I do them for. I want someone like Ethan, who also does the same things for me. I want to be cared for. If someone would put a blanket over my shoulders like him, could that not be love?

Her head bowed.

He's already loved someone else, and he lost her. He lost his child. I'm a fool to think that he could consider another woman. It wouldn't be right. I can see why his wife would have loved him, though. He must have treated her so well. I could never deserve that kind of treatment.

"Are you sure you're not hungry, Bela?" Ethan pointed to one of the boxes that were lined up on the side of the wall, next to the short shelf. "I think I saw some more food stashed away."

Her eyebrows lifted like a deer in the headlights. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice him turning away from his arm. Had he seen her staring at him the way she did? Hell, she was still doing it. He must have seen her.

"Uhm!" Bela broke away and averted her gaze to the opposite corner. "Yes, if you don't mind."

"I think it might be some of the same garbage that Kyia had stocked up, but food is food, right?" He ended his statement with a small laugh, hoping to simmer down the tension.

"Food is food," she muttered as her eyes returned to him. When he got up to go sort through the box and pick out a meal, her fixation would not subside. It was back to square one all over again.

But I still want that treatment. No one had ever gotten me food until I met him. I love this feeling. If that's what a person does for the one they love, then I want that. Why shouldn't I be able to have that?

Ethan continued to rummage through the box, trying his best to decipher what it was that he was picking up. "Don't be surprised if these taste just as bad as they did back there. I don't know what the hell any of this writing means. These dates make no sense to me, either."

"It's fine," she said, clearing up any doubt regarding her reservation. "I'm just happy to eat something." Bela nudged her shoulder around, even though his back was turned and he could not see it. "Are you hungry, too?"

"I could eat," he answered.

"Can we eat together?"

"Of course."

That brought joy to her heart. The blonde lowered her chin with a smile. She could not see her pale cheeks, but the heat that radiated through them made her wonder if she was blushing. By now, she had begun to come to terms with the way that she was feeling. Loving Ethan was something that she could have never predicted. While the man loving her back seemed as unattainable as it should be, indulging in her desires helped keep her in better spirits.

After all the horror that had gone down in that house on Perkel Street, Bela Dimitrescu wanted to feel safe. Ethan was the only person in this world that she trusted. The only one she wanted to be around.

The food is probably going to be so off-putting, but your company won't be. Please sit close. I don't want to have you so far away.

She could only voice those thoughts in her head, too afraid to speak them. As Ethan returned with two boxes of food in his hands, Bela suddenly threw her subtlety to the wind as she patted the floor with her hand, signaling for him to take a seat just a foot or two away from her side. The man paused as if he were still processing her request by the time he got there.

She tried to cover it up with another lie, "It's cold." She wouldn't regret this one.

"I'm feeling a bit of a draft, too," he said. It ignited a mystery in her soul. Was he just playing along? The air around them was so still. How could there have been a breeze? Her concerns were set aside once he sat down right where she wanted.

That smile of hers returned.

Bela watched as he opened up the box for her, those plump, dark lips grinning as she turned her eyes at him. "You didn't have to do that."

"Eh, I was already getting set up," he said with a tilt of his head. "Here." He handed her a fork that had been stowed away in a pile, only to pull it away right after. "On second thought, I don't know how clean this is."

"I'll set my manners aside and eat with my hands," she concluded.

Ethan tossed the fork away. "Same."

Bela opened the box and was greeted with the same kind of meal that she had so passionately hated before. Ethan's was no less the same. Either this world's food was naturally distasteful, or they just didn't have much luck when it came to fine dining. The smell of the oddly-colored vegetables and pickled invertebrates filled the air with a unique stench.

Bela compared it to bad seafood, but it was still food, nonetheless. She just didn't want to get sick. Ethan's seemed to contain some sort of dried-up meat, far from rotten, but nothing like the delicious helpings of lamb and deer that she and her family would indulge in on some nights.

Her eyes would not leave his serving, which he took notice of.

"Want to trade?" He offered the box to her.

"Huh?"

"You keep looking at my food, so I figured you would enjoy it more." Ethan held the box out for the blonde to take. She couldn't believe it. Why was she so unable to keep track of what she was doing?

Bela accepted the offer, trading with him right then and there. "I hope you enjoy what I had."

"Once my arm stops hurting, I'll enjoy anything," he replied.

It lit up a glance of concern in the woman. "Is there anything I can do to help it?"

"Unfortunately, no," Ethan said. "Unless you can find me a doctor, I don't think either of us could scrounge up a better treatment. I'm just glad I can still use it."

"I don't know what I would have done if you were injured any more than you are now," Bela commented on the damage, sheepishly resigning herself to the food in front of her. She scooped up a tiny portion to place in her mouth, chewing it softly as she shrugged her shoulder. "We wouldn't have made it as far as we did without you."

The atmosphere in the room lightened up. Ethan could sense the impending moment of understanding that was about to emerge. If there had been a light born from the fabric of Bela's soul, it would have filled up the room brighter than any lantern. The glow might have even stood a chance of defeating Vikcia with its vibrance.

That aura rose when the woman let down her walls and opened her heart. He had grown to learn her mannerisms. Her little hints at the things she wanted and strived to obtain. This was the real Bela who was talking.

Ethan responded with a dash of humility, "You've saved my ass quite a few times now. Don't give me all the credit. I would have been dead in the first hour had you not saved me."

"Why do we keep saving each other?" She asked, shining those colorful eyes at him with a deep-rooted curiosity.

The man next to her could not have been more puzzled by her question. "What do you mean?"

Bela took another tiny bite of the less-than-appealing food in front of her. Ingesting the unsavory grub gave her time to formulate her next statement, lest she speak too soon and say the wrong thing. "Ever since we arrived here, I struggled to answer that for myself. For instance, I was so angry at you for what happened in that room back inside my castle."

"When the window shattered?" His level of concern rose, wondering how much she still gravitated toward the mindset she carried only just days before. That couldn't have been what she was now, he thought. It just couldn't. "Is that what you're referring to?"

"Yes," she replied, only to squash his concerns right there and then, "But that anger is long gone, Ethan."

After a sigh of relief, he lowered his shoulders and scooped up a portion for himself to eat. "Good to know."

Bela's voice softened up more, "That's just it, though. I was your worst enemy at that moment, and we were thrown into this world together. Nobody else. Just us. I saved you from that long-necked woman, and then you saved me from all these other monsters and Vikcia."

With food still in his mouth, Ethan waved his hand in a petting motion and said, "Don't forget how you saved me from that rabid dog."

She nodded, her expression falling at her next comment, "Then you rescued me from… that place."

He caught onto her sadness. "A lot has changed since you and I first arrived here, and you know that."

"That's what my question is all about." Bela adjusted her legs again, crossing them tighter as she sat erect and grasped her blanket. "So much has changed, but from the start, one of us protected the other, even when we hated each other. I think the reason I did it was because I needed you to stay alive, just so you could keep me alive. I didn't have a clue what I was up against, so I let go of what we were, even if I was still so angry at you. We spent more time together, and I got to know you a little more. That made risking my life for you just a little bit easier because I had that connection."

She rolled the corner of her mouth along the front of those wide cheeks of hers, setting her sights on the man just a foot away. The blonde hung her head yet again, sheepish as always. "Why did you fight for someone you hated?"

Ethan caressed the back of his head with his left hand as he cooked up his response to that as well. He could see how this conversation was now leaning into deeper territory. The woman in the room with him was no stranger any longer, nor was she his enemy. He still recalled the words spoken by that tortured young lady on the table.

Could they have been true?

"I think you already answered that question for yourself," he told her, dropping his hand and leaning forward. "Truth be told, I didn't hate you, not even when we got here. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't frustrated to all hell with you, but you're not the person I hated."

That feels good to hear, but it still doesn't sound right. Maybe we were never right to begin with.

He continued, "Regardless, we were in this shit together, and we still are. Look at us. We're talking, aren't we? I don't think that would have happened anytime back in our world."

She remained quiet, yet slightly optimistic, "I'd agree."

"We're going to return home, Bela. I promise."

She stretched out her torso with a long inhale, filling her lungs with uncertainty. With the yellow glow of the lantern highlighting Ethan's face, all she could do was find herself lost in the shape of it. If only he could hold her and make that promise…

He pointed at the box of food. "Are you still hungry? You've hardly eaten."

"It tastes terrible," she said.

"Yeah…I know."

Somber as a gloomy morning, Bela curled her lip and shrugged her left shoulder. "I guess I'm not hungry anymore anyway. I just have so much on my mind right now."

"Are you sure that you don't want to talk about it?" He wanted to be able to reach her. The lady was clearly unnerved by the untold actions of the man who had abducted her. Ethan feared the worst, seeing how unstraightened her gown had been when she came running out to him. The mere thought of him violating her…he couldn't stomach it.

If only he hadn't lost control back there, he thought. She wouldn't have run off. She wouldn't have been captured.

Unbeknownst to Bela, he blamed himself so much. She may have escaped alive, but what happened to her was just another failure on his part. Just like Elena, he was unable to save her from the fire. The only thing he could do now was try to pick up the pieces.

A tear rolled down Bela's cheek in an instant. Her voice broke, "No. Can we just forget it, please?"

Another wave of regret for him to hold onto. "Look, I'm sorry, Bela. I didn't mean –"

"I know," she interrupted him with a whimpering squeal, shuddering as she tried to reel in what wanted to come out. "I'm not trying to ruin this right now, okay? Let's just talk about anything else, alright?"

He angled both palms toward the floor, trying to calm her down. "Of course. It's okay."

It's not okay! Damn it! I can still taste that bastard's mouth! Why can't I put these thoughts away? It's over and done with. Just move on, Bela! What is so wrong with you? Why can't you just be an adult?

She breathed slowly through her parted lips, those white teeth flashing to reveal her distress. The exhale carried a cough and a low gasp. This wasn't a full-blown breakdown, but Bela was far from okay. There were not enough bandages in the world for the injury that she left that house with.

"Ethan…"

"Yes?"

Those dark eyelashes closed like a falling opera curtain. Another tear raced down the edge of her nose. "I think I just want to go to bed."

NOTES:

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

I'm not trying to lean on the depressing side with this one. Hearing feedback from you all, I can agree that the latest arc was full of that. But healing is something that is going to take some time, and after what she has been through, Bela isn't going to bounce back in a pinch. Rest assured, this is where she and Ethan will begin to grow closer together.

We're closing in on the end, and a lot of major things are right around the corner. What can we expect in the next chapter? Some conversations that have been needing to happen, as well as a hint as to what is to come.

With fourteen chapters left to go, this story is about to hit the gas pedal, and it won't be hitting the brakes as it barrels toward its explosive conclusion.

Expect that chapter in a week, as usual.

I also want to take the time to drop some more information on the other stories to come. Work has been slowly going on the Leon/Ashley story, which is going to happen. Now, I wanted to ask you if you prefer a consistent release between that story's chapters, or something more spaced out, like how things were when I was alternating between Flies and Fears (2-3 weeks).

With the third entry in this series (Daniela) nearing, I don't want to have people waiting for too long. Your answers will let me know when I should start preparing for the Leon/Ashley spin-off's release, as I intend to do artwork for this 20-chapter adventure into a dark fairy tale nightmare.

Thanks for being so supportive! I can't wait to get to the next project and give you something to look forward to. Hope you have a great weekend and stay safe out there! See you again soon! 😊