Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait, but I have a much longer chapter for you all in consolation. I had a great time in Ottawa last week and I even got to take a picture with Canada's Prime Minister Justin Trudeau! One of the many highlights of my trip! You don't know happiness until you've eaten poutine at 2 in the morning after having a maple latte with a big shot of espresso! Here's chapter 23!

Laurien awoke with a start, a strangled gasp ripping itself from her mouth as she clutched the armchair that she had passed out in the night before. Her chest heaved mightily as her lungs screamed in a fiery agony, before slowly subsiding after her vision cleared up, revealing the vast living room around her. Suddenly remembering where she was, she muffled a soft sob with her hand as she buried her face into the blanket that surrounded her, letting the darkness block out the world.

She flinched when she felt gentle hands tentatively grab her shuddering arms, but eventually let them pull her onto the ground and into a warm embrace as Erik's voice hummed softly in her ears.

"You're all right." He said repeatedly as he rocked her soothingly back and forth until her sobs lessened into small hiccups and sniffles. "You're all right, it was just a dream."

She felt the overwhelming need to tell him that it most certainly wasn't, but the uneven drumbeats that were echoing loudly in her head silenced her words, leaving her to close her eyes tightly as she tried to get her erratic breathing under control.

He held her against his chest for what felt like an eternity before he spoke. "Would you feel up to telling me what it was about?" Erik asked kindly as he pressed his lips to her forehead, reminding her to grab onto his calmness and slow her heart rate. She nodded, grateful for the wave of serenity as it washed over her and cleared her mind. She slowly disentangled herself from him and getting to her feet as she wiped away her tears with her sleeve, trying, but ultimately failing to meet his gaze.

"Thanks, but it was nothing."

She tried to move toward the bathroom to clean herself up, hating herself for crying in front of him, but she found that Erik's hand was still on her arm, keeping her in place. "Please, Laurien." He said, his eyes searching hers worriedly as he squeezed her arm comfortingly. "We both know that's not true."

She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the incessant beats pounding against the walls of her head to cease. She nodded, conceding bitterly as she felt a muscle in her jaw twitch.

He blinked understandingly, releasing his hold on her as he glanced over to the wall of tape blocking the hallway. "Does it have something to do with that?"

"Yeah, but let's not talk about that right now." She said groggily as she rubbed her temples. "I feel like someone's hitting my head with a sledgehammer."

"Not surprising, considering how much you drank yesterday." He commented, before raising an eyebrow in response to receiving an irritated glare from Laurien. "It wasn't even noon yet."

"Since when has that stopped anyone?" She asked indignantly before looking outside and seeing to her great annoyance that it was still dark. She sighed and scratched her forehead, feeling the room vibrate around her. "I'm sorry I woke you." She murmured apologetically. "You should go back to sleep."

"And what are you going to do?" He asked, frowning as he got to his feet.

She shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe eat something, I don't know. Though I'm not sure I can keep anything down at the moment." She mentioned as she felt her stomach pulsate sickeningly.

"Maybe you could show me how to make those puffy things?" He suggested; prompting her to stop rubbing her temple abruptly to look up at him with her eyebrows furrowed questioningly.

"What?"

"Those pancake things that you told me about in the kitchen of the mansion, the first time we-" He trailed off, though Laurien knew what he had meant to say.

The first time they'd kissed, she thought, as an odd squirming sensation surfaced in her stomach as she remembered how wonderful his lips had felt on hers and the gentle passion of his fingers that had been tangled loosely in her hair. Though with a slight twinge in her side, she quickly caught herself and pushed the memory away.

"Do you mean poffertjes?" She asked slowly, trying to bring herself back to the present.

"Yeah, poffertjes." He repeated back to her, his mouth splitting into a grin. "I never did get to try them, seeing as you burned them."

"Well, whose fault was that?" She prompted, cursing herself mentally as a small smile appeared reluctantly on her face as well.

Their smiles disappeared as quickly as they had come as they stared at each other, his blue meeting her now green pair before they flitted down to her mouth, and even though it was only for a second, she still caught the movement.

At their closeness, Laurien noticed a slight purple bruising arising at certain points around Erik's jaw line and throat that she hadn't noticed before. Frowning in concern as she wondered if he had earned them along with the foot long gash during his misadventures, and she reached up to touch them out of curiosity, but thought better of it and dropped her hand.

She saw him start to lean in, slowly at first, as if he were scared to spook her. She didn't retreat, though as his forehead touched hers, she couldn't help but think back to how he had done the same gesture in the submarine, right before he'd broken her heart. With a small exhale of breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding, she backed away slowly before turning on her heel and making her way into the kitchen, biting her lip as she felt his disappointment mingle with her own.

"I don't think that I have the ingredients." She stated as steadily as she could, hoping that a little bit of distance from him would be enough to fight off the conflicting sensations racing through her veins, though she found that she wasn't so lucky, as Erik ended up following her into the kitchen as she tried to busy herself with looking through the cupboards.

"Do you have a grocery store around here?" He asked, his tone innocent enough, but for some reason the question annoyed her.

"Well, yeah, we're secluded, not cut off." She said, wincing, as her tone was a little bit sharper than she meant to. "I can head there once it's light out, I've got some things to pick up anyway."

"May I join you?"

She frowned. "Don't you have to get back to your 'Brotherhood', or whatever you call yourselves?" She asked bitterly, grimacing as the word rolled off of her tongue unnaturally. "Won't they care if you're gone?"

"They'll do fine without me for a few days."

She froze with her hand on a bag of sugar. "A few days?" She repeated, wondering if she had heard right.

"If you'd have me."

Feeling a slight wariness rising in her chest, she turned to face him and observed him carefully before looking down at her hands nervously. She hadn't the slightest idea if he had some secret agenda behind this whole visit, if he were simply using her in some way to further his group's objectives, but she knew that the longer he stayed in her view, the more time she could make sure that he wasn't standing on a soapbox in front of some government building, playing his role as the vicious dictator of mutants.

"All right." She stated finally, putting a hand on her hip as she leaned against the cupboard tiredly. "But you should get some more sleep first. I don't want to collapsing into a snow drift on our way there, I'll never find you again if you do."

He smirked in satisfaction. "I could say the same thing about you."

She waved him off half-heartedly. "Nah, I've got coffee for that. Besides…" She said as she cocked her head toward the armchair.

He nodded in understanding, and started to head toward the couch when she suddenly grabbed his wrist in a vice like grip as she noticed the difference in how he moved. "Wait a second," She muttered, breathing in a wave of fear as his eyes widened in surprise. "Let me see the stitches."

His face fell visibly, like a child that had been caught stealing cookies, and he reluctantly lifted the slightly oversized black shirt that had previously belonged to Mathilde's husband up from his stomach. He revealed the gauze that had been wrapped around his abdomen, now with a moderate spot of blood seeping through the layers.

"You ripped your stitches again, didn't you?" She sighed irritably as she ran her fingers lightly over the stained bandage. "How did you do that?"

She glanced up at him and saw the look on his face, suddenly understanding how he'd done it. She hadn't realized how fast he'd come to her aid when she'd woken up in a panic, but now she knew the cost he'd paid for it.

She lowered her eyes back to the wound guiltily, and lowered the shirt over it before she patted the counter, motioning for him to sit as she went to grab the first aid kit for the second time in twenty-four hours.

Later that morning, they made the trip through the two feet of snow to the store. Laurien cringed with every step as another handful of snow would enter the top of her rubber boots and sink down to her toes that were thankfully encased in warm woolen socks. She glanced over to where Erik stood beside her; bundled up in the winter clothes that Laurien had found in Mathilde's husband's closet and couldn't help but giggle. Apparently Aunt Mathilde had been very fond of deerstalker hats after reading The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes as a child, and had bought her husband one for Christmas as a joke. A joke that he had been only too happy to humor, as he had taken to wearing it through out the winter months every year until his death, as Laurien had noticed in the old photos she'd seen in the big book she'd found in the box. So when Laurien had gone looking for something for Erik to wear instead of the ridiculous red and purple suit he'd brought, she thought it best to teach him a little humility.

She'd stood in front of him as he rifled through the clothes, waiting with bated breath until he came along the hat and held it up in front of her.

"Are you serious?" He asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked up questioningly at her.

"If you want to stay here, you've got to wear the hat." She stated simply, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

He'd sighed in exasperation before putting it on his head and raising his hands in the air. "Well what do you think?"

Laurien frowned, taking a step back as she crossed her arms together. "I'm actually rather annoyed right now."

"What? Why?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "It looks good on you."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not." She said, tilting her head toward the mirror by the stairs. "All you need is a pipe and you're set."

It had begun to snow again the second that they had set foot out the door, making Laurien very thankful for her red toque that protected her ears from the cold winds that threatened to tear them off. It had only been the second time that she'd been fully out of the house since her arrival in Belgium and she still hadn't quite gotten used to the big dump of snow that they'd gotten, which was quite evident from the way that she trudged slowly through what felt like molasses.

They were only a few blocks away from the store when she slowed a bit, watching to see if Erik would notice and turn around, but he didn't. She smirked to herself and crouched down, feeling something foolish and child-like come over her as she gathered a large amount of snow into a tight ball with her mittens before using her powers to throw it at Erik. The snowball hit him solidly in the back before dissolving into an explosion of fluff. He grunted softly and spun around in confusion before seeing her smiling slyly a few meters behind him. His usually stoic face quickly turned to one of mischief as he suddenly bent down and gathered up his own snowball and threw it at her. His aim was impeccable, but she was able to dodge it at the last second as it whizzed by her shoulder. She had been too preoccupied with dodging the snowball to prepare herself for when Erik grabbed her around the waist and dragged her down as he slipped, leaving a human shaped imprint around Erik's body in the powdery snow as she fell on him.

Laughing, she propped herself up on his chest and looked down at him as her light caramel hair tickled his handsome rosy cheeked face. She smiled broader as she saw his million teeth grin do the same, his blue eyes lighter than ever as they reflected the white snow around them. Her smile suddenly disappeared as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, her wide eyes flashing a combination of violet and cerulean as she felt something invisible hit her repeatedly from the inside. Suddenly scared, the cerulean rapidly overtook the violet as she got to her feet and brushed the snow off from her coat.

"We're only a few blocks away, we should get moving before the snow gets worse." She said quickly, avoiding his gaze as she held out a hand to help him up.

She could feel his eyes staring, but she ignored the sensation with all her might as she tried to keep her heart from jumping out of her chest.

It was quiet the rest of the way to the grocer's and she was thankful for the noisy distraction as they opened the chiming door and walked into the busy store. They were met with a burst of hot air, as it seemed as if the store had all of its furnaces at full throttle, prompting must of its customers to peel off their many layers as they went about the store. It was quite the same as she remembered, several rows of shelves laden with varieties of bread, fruit, cheese, and other sweet items, such as large blocks of chocolate and small tubs of Sirop de Liège that were on sale, as Adela had mentioned the day before.

They had put up new signs since she'd last been there, most of which detailing the amazing taste of Coca Cola. She smiled inwardly as she remembered tasting Cola for the first time the day that she'd met all the other mutants in the CIA base. It had been so strange and it reminded her of alcohol and cigarettes in a way, how it burned her throat and irritated her nose, though she still couldn't help but feel drawn to it.

She pulled the shopping list out of her pocket and beckoned for Erik to keep close as she weaved through the aisles and people toward where she remembered the bags of flour to be. When she reached the shelf with countless sacks of flour, sugar, coffee and tea, she suddenly felt the creeping sensation that someone was watching her. She turned her head to her left, only to find a stern looking old woman staring intently at her with large watery eyes.

"Oh, I knew it was you!" The woman squealed excitedly as she clasped one of Laurien's hands in her own skeletal pair. Laurien tried her best not to wince as the woman's sandpaper-like skin grated against hers uncomfortably as she recalled whom the lady was.

"Bonjour, Madame Girard." She responded as kindly as she could. "It's nice to see you again."

"Nice to see me again?" She repeated shrilly enough to make all the people around them stare at her. "Don't say it if you don't mean it. Gone three years without so much as a goodbye and that's what you say to me? Probably hoped that I was dead like the rest of them by the time that you came back, eh girl?"

"No, Madame." Laurien implored, though now dearly wishing that she were dead instead, as she looked around desperately for Erik, only to sigh silently in relief as she spotted him making his way over with a carton of eggs in his hands.

"Who's this?" Madame Girard asked, eyeing Erik suspiciously through her large glasses as he approached, taking off his hat.

"This is my friend-" Laurien started, but Madame Girard cut her off with a stern look.

"I was asking the young man, not you, girl." She said dryly before turning back to Erik.

Erik gave Laurien a quick glance before extending his hand to the old woman. "Erik Lensherr, Madame."

Madame Girard scrunched up her nose at his hand before addressing Laurien again. "So, you've finally found a supposedly suitable man?"

"You could say that." Laurien murmured quietly, green eyes widening as she realized that she'd actually said it out loud and quickly worked to fix her mistake. "That is, it isn't quite set in stone just yet."

The old woman grunted, unimpressed. "What are you doing back here, then? Come to stay in one place for once?" She then turned to Erik, squinting her old watery eyes. "She was always a runner. When I first met her, she was running from dogs and cattle, but now I guess she's turned to running from funerals, eh?"

Laurien face suddenly felt overwhelmingly warm as she found herself glaring daggers at the woman, though she just assumed that it was just the heat of the store. As Madame Girard prattled on about who knows what to Erik, she peeled off her heavy coat with difficulty, seeing as the woman still held her hand in a death grip, and set it over her trapped arm. Spots danced spastically before her eyes, as the heat didn't seem to let up, even with her taking off her coat.

Thoroughly uninterested in whatever insultingly controversial things Madame Girard was babbling about, she let her mind wander, remembering a time when Aunt Mathilde had told them all to avoid the woman at all costs and they had obeyed dutifully. Madame Girard had been especially frightening when Laurien was in her teens, and age had done very little to dull her scary nature. Her dull blue eyes were rimmed with red beneath heavily arched eyebrows and her mouth was usually twisted in a cruel scowl that hid dark yellow teeth behind them. Her hair was yanked back tightly into a strict grey bun that she usually kept underneath a large putrid green hat that was known to have hosted a Nazi flag instead of a feather during the war.

Laurien was suddenly jarred back to the present when a flash of anger radiated strongly from Erik, alerting her early enough to hear the tail end of Madame Girard's sentence. "-seems like everyone is dropping dead around her! I mean, just look at the trail of bodies if you don't believe me, first the parents, then Mathilde, then the little brats and then finally the boy, though I guess they ruled that out as a suicide. What do you have to say for yourself, girl?"

Laurien wasn't paying attention. She breathed with difficulty, as it seemed like Madame Girard's words had been turned into magma that was being forcefully poured down her throat by the woman's jagged nails. She blinked back the tide of red that was seeping in around the edges of her vision and looked up at the woman before her. Laurien opened her mouth uncertainly, but found that her words were stuck in her throat.

"Speak, girl!" Madame Girard snapped sharply, digging her nails painfully into her hand. "Or has young Daniel cut out your tongue as well?"

The sudden flash of red sprang fully in front of her eyes as Laurien ripped her hand out of the old woman's death grip, feeling the agonizing sensation of her skin splitting beneath the woman's ragged nails before she turned on her heel and fled through the sea of people, dropping her coat in the meanwhile.

She ignored Erik's efforts to call out to her as she burst through the door and into the freezing cold, almost knocking a young boy clean off his feet as she turned around a corner at break neck speed, not stopping to apologize as she ran as fast as she could with no particular destination in mind.

She made it as far as the De Boer farm on the outskirts of the other side of town before she collapsed to her knees in the snow. Breathing heavily, she stared unseeingly at the old apple tree that Bastijn had broken his yo-yo on, feeling a rush of tears coming to her eyes. She bit them back angrily as she realized that she was so tired of crying, and suddenly summoned a piece of barbed wire from the fence next to her and wrapped it tightly around the bare hand that Madame Girard had held. Laurien grimaced as she felt the stinging bite of the wire digging into her skin, but ultimately sighed in relief as she felt the emotions ebb away, only to be replaced with sweet physical pain. Physical pain, she could deal with, she thought despairingly, it was the other kind that she was worried about.

She sat in the snow for an unknown amount of time, though enough that the blood coating her hand had begun to dry as the bleeding slowly stopped. She looked down and saw the drastic contrast between the white snow and the splashes of red that stained it before shoving her hand into the snow and washing off the blood, all the while, eliciting a whole new kind of pain that she welcomed wholeheartedly.

Once she was clean, save for the thin red line and the deep gouges on the back of her hand, she got to her feet, groaning as her stiff muscles screamed from disuse. She started trudging back home; knowing that it would take her almost an hour to get there, as the snowfall had picked up considerably and the roads had grown icy, though she just wrapped her arms around herself and kept walking.

I was actually really happy with how this chapter turned out, which is honestly weird for me. In other news, on the airplane to Toronto, I watched Star Wars: The Force Awakens for the third time, so that was fun. I also watched Space Balls, just for kicks. Gonna try to see Batman V Superman if I have time this weekend. All right, thank you all for being such amazing readers, it's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts. Thanks again, hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review!