They were outnumbered from the start.

This, Kassim decided, was why they shouldn't split up. Babkak's added skills would've definitely leveled the playing field a bit more.

And Omar…

Kassim winced as their youngest member took a punch to the gut.

… Wasn't really the best fighter. We'll have to work with him on that at some point.

A last minute dodge to the right had Kassim avoiding a left hook to the jaw by mere seconds. He didn't waste any time in taking a retaliating swing of his own.

How all this had started… Now, that was a good question. He honestly couldn't remember. No one ever knew how bar fights began, they just did. Babkak hadn't been in the drinking mood, saying something about a killer headache, so he would meet them back at the hideout.

A small part of Kassim hoped he'd feel guilty about that when he saw their bruised faces. Fine time to have a headache… Though he could feel one of his own coming on.

Pain shattered his knuckles and he had to remind himself not to punch so hard. It did the job, though, sending his opponent to the ground, out cold.

They were just getting the upper hand, sort of, when the knife came out of nowhere. Another reason, Kassim thought as he smashed a stool into his latest opponent, why they all should start carrying weapons.

"Al!" He called out the warning seconds before Aladdin noticed the blade glinting in the low tavern light.

No reply was necessary. His brother was aware now. They were both on the same page' they would both switch their strategy from offense to defense.

Omar was a different story, as Kassim knew he would be. He didn't blame the kid for it, he simply focused his efforts on getting across the room.

Getting to Omar before the weapon did.

Something burned inside him, warning him he would be too late, but that didn't stop him from trying. That didn't stop him from seeing red when the brute swung at Omar, drawing blood before their youngest gang member could dodge out of the way.

Fists clenched, Kassim tackled the attacker to the floor seconds later.

The rest of the brawl became one big blur of chaos swirling around him as he fought to keep the upper hand. Whoever this man was, he knew how to use a blade and use it well. Kassim felt the knife slash across his exposed skin several times, though the pain wouldn't come until later.

After rolling around a bit in a battle for leverage, his opponent ended up on top of him and Kassim found himself straining against the man to keep the knife from plunging into his throat. The tip of the blade was close enough now that even swallowing wrong could mean death.

Maybe this was how it ended.

No.

Kassim grit his teeth and pressed harder against the man's wrists.

It can't. It can't end like this…

He wouldn't let it. He refused to go down this way.

A flying chair was his saving grace, hitting his attacker in the side on its wayward flight across the room. Using the few precious seconds of confusion to his advantage, Kassim redirected the knife, plunging it upward without hesitation.

It felt exactly like it had last time, the long-buried memory resurfacing before Kassim could stop it.

The squelch of tearing skin.

The slight resistance of whatever organs stood in the blade's murderous path.

The dull, numb feeling that washed over Kassim as he felt the man's life drain away.

That empty look that glazed the man's eyes and sent a shiver through Kassim's frame.

Before he drowned in his own thoughts—in the blood-stained memories—he hefted the man off him, rolling the body onto the floor.

As he shook the dazed cloud out of his brain, he realized the fight was nearly over, with everyone dispersing before the guards arrived. Kassim almost laughed, but he couldn't risk looking insane as he stared at the body.

Not when Aladdin had that appalled expression on his face.

He should stand up. Stand up! They needed to get out there. Yet, he couldn't. Couldn't bring himself to move. Couldn't get himself to breathe. Stars danced across his vision as he became vaguely cognizant of his frozen limbs.

Move…

You… You've got to…

To… move.

Awareness of the blood splattered across his face and chest hit him with a ferocity he wasn't sure he could handle. Not right now… The more he thought about it, the more each drop seared his skin like a branding iron.

The guards would be there eventually. He couldn't still be sitting next to a dead body when they arrived.

They're always too late when you need them and too early when you don't.

Someone was pulling his arm. Omar, silently pleading with him to get up. His run-ins with the knife began their painful throbbing as Kassim pushed himself off the floor.

The burning gashes on his arms were good, though. They would drag him out of the daze; they would prod him forward.

Following Al out into the back alley, Kassim felt Omar's grip tighten on his arm and he realized the kid hadn't let go since pulling him to his feet.

That was just as well because something caught Kassim's foot and he stumbled, saved from the dirt only by Omar's steadying hand.

They pounded the pavement, racing to put as much distance between them and the bar as possible. Lungs screaming, Kassim finally skidded to a halt behind Aladdin, who had ducked into an small abandoned alcove.

For a moment, the three of them caught their breath in silence. Kassim felt the rough siding of the wall dig into his back, but he couldn't recall making the conscious decision to lean against it.

Breathe… He just needed to breathe for a second, then they could do a damage assessment and—

"What happened back there?" There was a slight tremor in Al's voice and Kassim opened his eyes, unable to remember when they had slipped closed.

Finding he didn't have anything to say, he closed his mouth the second he opened it.

What was there to say?

Aladdin was staring at him, eyes wide. Omar, for his part, looked unphased, still just trying to catch his breath.

They all really needed to do more cardio or something…

Maybe if he kept his lips pursed, Al would get off his back and they could forget this ever happened. The way his blood brother kept gazing at him, though, made it clear none of them would ever forget this; studying him like the longer the stare, the closer Al would get to understanding the why.

There is no why. Sometimes, life just goes that way.

To ask why would be to drive oneself mad.

Finally, Kassim couldn't stand it anymore. "What? What do you want me to say, huh?"

Al shook his head. "We don't… I can't believe that… We don't kill people, Kassim!"

"Oh, we didn't do anything. I did it, so don't worry, your golden heart is still intact. And what was I supposed to do? Let him kill Omar instead?" Aladdin didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so Kassim pressed on. "Look, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to in order to survive. I'd think you'd understand that better than anybody."

"Yeah, but…" As Al fumbled for a good retort, Kassim rubbed his fingers against his thumbs. They were sticky with blood.

Off. He needed water or something to get it off.

"There had to have been another way," Aladdin settled on at last, crossing his arms.

Kassim scoffed, then pushed himself off the side of the wall. "Well, when you figure one out, I'm all ears. Come on, let's get out of here."

Without sparing Al a glance, he ducked out of the alcove.

The familiar journey back to their hideout had never felt so long.

Omar spent the first half walking with Aladdin, who hung a few feet back for most of the trip. Good. Kassim didn't have anything else to say to him.

Out of all his brothers, Al was probably his closest—and the one with whom he argued the most. They were both so different, and yet, the same in many ways.

That's why he should understand.

Kassim flexed his fingers. He wasn't sure he really wanted Al to understand.

No one should have to just blindly understand the taking of a life.

Right…?

In the back of his mind, he heard her falling again. Heard her body hit each and every stone cold step of the stairs. Heard her scream…

"It's all right now. He can't hurt you anymore, Mama. Mama…?"

Sucking in a breath banished the memory. There wasn't any use in revisiting the past. Living in the present—and only the present, no stupid past or future stuff—was the best coping mechanism Kassim had, so that's what he did.

But before he could start dwelling on the blood coating his hands, Omar jogged up to his side, slowing to match his steps.

"Are you all right?" Kassim asked him after a minute or two.

Omar shrugged. "I'm fine."

"He got your arm pretty good, it looks like."

The kid seemed to notice the blood trickling down his skin for the first time since the bar. "Oh. Yeah, I guess so. It'll be fine."

"Yeah," Kassim replied, voice hollow. "Yeah, I'm sure it will. Babkak'll patch it up or something."

When Omar cleared his throat, Kassim's stomach began to twist. He already knew what the kid was going to say and he didn't want to hear it.

Didn't want anyone to even think it.

"Listen, uh, tha—"

Kassim held up a hand. "Don't." A sigh brushed past his lips and he tried to give Omar a reassuring smile. "Don't thank me, just… I'm just glad you're all right and that's the end of it, okay?"

Omar nodded, looking as if he wanted to say something else. Please don't…

The dark stairwell to their hideout had never looked so lovely and Kassim quickened his steps.

He needed water or a cloth or… or something.

Babkak was already there when Kassim reached the top, preparing a meager meal out of whatever food they'd stolen that day. Though he didn't look up at first, Kassim knew it was only a matter of time until he noticed.

Well, Kassim didn't have time to wait for the inevitable. His feet drove him toward their collection of water, dipping a rag into the bucket they didn't use for drinking. He ran it over his face first, scrubbing until he was certain he'd take off his skin along with the thick drops of blood. When he finished, Babkak was staring at him with furrowed brows.

Kassim soaked the rag again and moved on to his chest.

"What happened?"

There it is.

Babkak was standing now, looking about ready to catch Kassim if he toppled over.

No fear of that.

"It's not mine," came Kassim's only clarification.

A thin layer of relief slipped onto Babkak's face. "Well, who's is it, then?"

Before Kassim could reply, Aladdin and Omar entered the small room, so he jerked a thumb at Al.

"Ask him. He probably wants to tell it, anyway, so the tale's told properly, right?"

Aladdin folded his arms around his chest. "Knowing you, you'd probably sugarcoat it."

"Well then." Kassim spread his arms wide and gave the slightest of bows. "The stage is all yours."

After soaking his rag one last time, he took it up to the roof, Babkak's exasperated "Would someone please tell me what's going on?" echoing up the thin staircase.

Only when he was alone under the vast sea of stars could Kassim truly breathe. A strangled gasp tore from his throat and pain exploded through his knees as they hit the floor.

"I'm done standing by and watching you hurt her…"

Squeezing his eyes shut against the memory, Kassim fell back against the knee-high siding. Everything was such a blur, swirling around in his brain so fast, he couldn't tell where one death ended and the other began.

Offoffoffoff—

He needed to get the blood off his hands before the numbness wore away completely and the mere sight of it made him physically ill.

At least this time, he had been able to save someone. At least this time, it hadn't all been for nothing.

It took longer than he would've liked, but his heart rate finally started to slow, his chest settling back into its regular pattern. He pulled his knees close enough to his chest to give his arm a resting place while he worked on it. His left bicep boasted the largest gash, still oozing a slow trickle of blood.

That one would need to be cleaned first.

The man in the bar had looked like just another lowlife—and Kassim was pretty sure he'd been the one to start the fight in the first place—so, really, there was no reason to feel overly guilty. Right? The man certainly hadn't looked like the type who had any children…

If he did, maybe he shouldn't have.

Maybe they'll be glad when they find out he's—

Wait.

Don't think about that.

Just… He sucked in a steadying breath. Don't think at all.

An unexpected rustling had Kassim glancing up. Aladdin stood at the edge of the steps, a few long strips of cloth in his hand and a penitent expression on his face.

Kassim didn't invite him over; Al sat down beside him, anyway.

Silence reigned for a few long moments. Kassim had always hated silence, but he wasn't going to be the one to speak first.

Al had come to him, after all.

"Thought you could use these," Al said, tone soft, yet hesitant.

It was an obvious peace offering, so Kassim accepted it, taking one of the strips and carefully starting to wrap it around his upper arm. He couldn't really think of any reason not to.

"Thanks."

"Sure." Here, Aladdin paused and Kassim wished he would just spit out whatever words were stuck on his tongue. "Uh… So, I told Babkak what happened."

Kassim gave a noncommittal hum.

"He told me that… Well, that it's not the first time something like this has happened to you."

Biting out a curse, Kassim wrapped the bandage tighter. "He shouldn't have told you that."

"Then, maybe you can tell me about it. Help me understand."

A bitter chuckle burned his throat. "How can I help you understand something I'm not even sure I understand myself?"

Instead of replying, Al simply waited.

Nope. No, we are not doing this.

But still, Aladdin waited, sitting quietly beside him while he fixed up his arm.

In the end, Kassim sighed.

"There was… A long time ago, there was this… this woman." We'll go with that, yeah. "Uh… Long story short, I was young, I was trying to protect her from some guy and it had the same-ish ending as tonight. There, happy?"

Aladdin shook his head, giving him a look. "Hardly."

Kassim tied off the bandage before grabbing another one. "When did you become so nosey? I swear, you're worse than Omar. Here, hand me that rag, will you?"

When Aladdin gingerly picked up the blood-soaked cloth, Kassim knew the time for stalling had run out. Heaving a sigh, he focused his attention on cleaning and wrapping the next cut, needing something other than Al to look at while he recounted the memory.

"The woman was my mom. She'd gotten in a fight with—" He sucked in a breath. "With some guy. He was attacking her and I couldn't… I couldn't just stand there and do nothing. Pushing her down the stairs was the last straw." Maybe if he pressed hard enough on his wound, the pain in his arm would distract him from the pressure building behind his eyes. "So, I attacked him like he had her. Stabbed him in the side with his own dagger, and no, I don't regret it, in case you were wondering. No, what I regret is not getting to her fast enough. Not getting to her before she… before…"

Shaking his head, Kassim took another breath, directing all the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him into bandaging his arm.

The warmth of Aladdin's hand on his shoulder nearly broke him, so Kassim locked his jaw and steeled himself as he tied off the bandage.

"I don't…" It took a moment, but he mustered enough strength to keep his voice steady. "I don't like killing people. I hate it. It makes me feel…" He shook his head. "But I'd do it a thousand times over if it means protecting my family."

Al was nodding when Kassim finally risked a glance to the side.

Neither spoke after that and a comfortable silence settled over the rooftop. No words were necessary. At some point, Aladdin went down to bed, but not before giving Kassim's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Stretching, Kassim wandered over to the edge of the roof, not quite ready to leave his blanket of stars. The vast city below seemed quiet and peaceful from a distance. Yet, somewhere out there was a man with a knife stuck in his cold, lifeless body.

Shivering, Kassim wrapped his arms about his chest.

He didn't realize how far his thoughts had drifted; didn't notice Babkak coming up beside him until the man spoke.

"Did you tell him?"

"Yeah," Kassim said, shooting his friend with a look that lacked any real venom. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"You're welcome."

Kassim rolled his eyes. "I told him most of it. He doesn't need to know the full story." He let out another bitter laugh. "I mean, what kind of psychopath kills his own father?"

"The hero kind, I think."

"Yeah, right. I didn't even save her, anyway, so it was pointless."

"He might've killed you next," Babkak pointed out, voice soft, contemplative. "Or your brother."

A dull pang bit the inside of Kassim's chest. "He's gone now, too. So, again: pointless."

"Maybe." Babkak shrugged. "You saved Omar, though."

Kassim pursed his lips and gave a shrug of his own.

Maybe Omar would've been fine. Maybe he would've been able to hold his own.

Against an armed muscle-man? Keep telling yourself that, liar.

"The city's beautiful tonight," came Babkak's quiet observation.

"I was just thinking that…"

"Hey." Another hand on his shoulder, this one no less comforting. "It's gonna be all right."

The best Kassim could give was a nod, but that seemed to satisfy Babkak well enough.

"Now, come get some sleep. I am not going through the hell of trying to wake you up tomorrow."

Kassim cracked a grin. "What? I like to sleep in."

"You sleep in and I'll leave you behind."

"Hey, fine by me." When Babkak rolled his eyes, Kassim's grin widened. "I could use a day off."

"From what? You barely do anything." But Babkak's eyes were smiling.

"That's offensive. I'm a valuable member of this team."

"If you say so…"

Giving Babkak a nudge in the ribs was the best way to convey his mock offense.

Maybe things would be all right. Eventually.

That thought, while pretty, did nothing to stop the nightmares from coming that night.

His mother and father struggling at the top of the stairs. The alcohol on his father's breath. A young teenager and an even younger boy cowering in a corner.

Her scream as she fell…

Dirty nails digging into a sweaty palm, resolve filling the older of the boys' chest.

And a younger version of himself snatching up an empty jar, hurling it across the room before he could stop long enough to think about the consequences.

"I'm done standing by and watching you hurt her..."

A scuffle. A fight.

Fists flying; someone shouting in the background. Or maybe they were crying… He couldn't remember.

The knife. The blood.

A scramble down the stairs.

"It's all right now. He can't hurt you anymore, Mama. Mama…?"

No pulse…

Kassim jolted awake with a gasp that did nothing to fill his burning lungs.

Just a dream. It was just—

Only, it had been real, once. Once upon a long time ago.

Not that long ago, when you think about it…

At least everyone else still seemed to be sleeping. Maybe he could just—

Beside him, Omar rolled onto his side and Kassim caught him blinking out of the corner of his eye.

So much for not waking anyone up.

Inhale, exhale…

He glanced at Omar, then whispered, "You all right?"

"I was about to ask you that," Omar replied with a tired smile.

Had Al and Babkak not clearly been trying to sleep, Kassim would've barked a sardonic laugh. "I'm fine." Scratch that. "At least, I will be once I get back to sleep."

Omar's brows dipped. "Nightmare?"

"Something like that." Though Kassim shifted, his new position didn't promise any more comfort than his last. "Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't."

Right…

Before he could continue his quest for comfort, for sleep to claim him once more, Omar's soft voice filtered through the air.

"I did it, too, once." A distant look glazed the kid's eyes. There was no need to ask any clarifying questions. Kassim knew what he meant. "Or, at least, I think I did. I don't know. I didn't stay long enough to make sure…"

Looking at Omar, he felt his throat tighten, unable to say anything even if he somehow found the right words.

Why did they have to live in a world where even someone as innocent and kind as Omar hadn't been spared the cruel hand of Death?

"That's why you have to let me thank you," Omar went on, folding an arm under the side of his head. "I know you said not to, but… but, well, I know what it took to do what you did and… I don't think I'd still be here if it wasn't for you."

"I'm sure you would've been fine," Kassim said, but they both knew what a comforting lie sounded like.

"Maybe. Probably not, though. So, thank you. I mean it."

Kassim swallowed, another denial searing the tip of his tongue. He didn't want to be thanked, didn't want to be praised for the second stain of blood that now marked his hands.

But there was such sincerity in Omar's eyes, such thanks, such relief at still being alive…

"You're welcome." The words were so soft, Kassim wondered if they would go unheard. Omar's smile put that worry to rest.

As his little brother shifted again, eyes slipping closed, Kassim found himself thinking that maybe, maybe…

… This time wasn't as pointless as the last.

Maybe this time, everything really would be all right.