August 3rd: Early Morning Hours

My father doesn't begrudge me this time. He doesn't hassle me, he doesn't comfort me. He does nothing but make sure he's still there.

I've locked myself in his room. Cream colored candles burned on every available surface. Their perfume was heavy in the humid air, their flames dancing and creating shadows on the walls. I've turned his bedroom into my own private Hell.

My father didn't change a thing since he died, and even through the fragrance, I can smell him. His sweat, his cologne, his leather jacket. It's made me weak, or is it that I've spent the last four days in this room? Laying on the floor, letting the melting wax spill all over me? Its sharp pain doesn't even touch what I feel. I haven't eaten anything, and my father hasn't tried to feed me. I've only slept in short bursts. There's vomit in the trash can, there's blood on the floor.

My hands shake as I try to move them and sweep my hair off of my wet forehead. I'm drenched with sweat, but I'm freezing. Goosebumps explode on my arms.

I roll over, and see his shoes under the bed, his running shoes. The ones he wore the night before his death. There's a box next to it that I know holds his jacket. He wasn't buried with it, and there are still a few bullet holes next to the zipper.

His face flashes before my eyes. He's smiling at me and shaking his head. I screwed up again. That's not how I was supposed to hold a gun. Relax my arm, tense my hand. His fingers brush my cheek, and I feel myself grin too, though I don't know why. He'll forgive me like he always does.

"Noni?!" My father's voice cuts through my own screams. I've been crying out again for the last few minutes. I'm clawing at my face, and I can feel the cuts there open again. It's this face that was the last thing he touched. These hands that he held. These arms that he died in. My nails tear into my skin as I try to pull it off.

I don't deserve it, I scream. I didn't do anything, I couldn't help you, I killed you.

"NONI! NONI, OPEN THE DOOR, PLEASE!" My father bangs on the door, and it rattles on its hinges. He thinks I'm killing myself. Tears run out of the corners of my eyes and across my scraped skin.

I come to a point where I can't breathe, and I gag instead. My chest heaves, but nothing happens. I feel like I'm being stabbed. I cough, and spit, and blood flies out of my mouth onto the wall. I've shredded my throat.

Through it all, I can still smell him. Still feel his arms around me. He's protecting me. He will always protect me..

"Angelo.." His name barely falls from my lips before I fall unconscious.

There were no red coats and white fur accompanying this delivery man. It was only a picture.

Like the countless passersby and spectators, he walked past the wreckage in a slow, curious pace.

A stroll later, he passed the car. And like the stork, it left a surprise for those who would feast their eyes on it.

Grinning, the hat wasn't red or with a furry ball at the end. A long braid was loose and swaying like any stallion's manicured tail.

And seconds later, he was gone. It was as if he took one step into nothingness, and it granted him just that.

His phone vibrated, and he picked it up. He now stepped into his own black car several blocks away. Gagged, was Rico.

A new born babe's tears seeped out of those young eyes. And anxiety tugged at the corners of his eyebrows. Fright was obvious.

What was more obvious was that he was new to the business. And would be early to retire from the business.

His kind of gift is one rarely afforded.

And the car sped off. They had cookies to bake. And another photoshoot to prepare for. It would take hours to prepare for the camera next time.

The model, like any, was pretty and quiet.

Soon, he wouldn't be pretty. Or quiet.

As finely wrapped a gift as it was, it would only get better.

Together, we got my father untied, cleaned up, and into his own bed. I wanted to close his door, but I didn't feel safe enough. Noir's presence was all over my house. I could feel it crawling all over my skin. I tied my hair back to give my hands something to do, and continued pressing the curls down and back behind my ears. Tam laid a hand on my shoulder, the one without a thumb. It must have hurt for her to do that..

"I know what you're going to say, and the answer is no." I said as she opened her mouth to speak. She slowly closed it again, proving my point. "He's not after any of you. He's after me, and that's it. I'm not going to give him any more free toys, do you understand?"

"Noni, what the hell do you expect to do all by yourself? Regardless of the fact that he's after just you, he's willing to go through anyone else to get there. So keeping all of those that care about you away from him isn't going to keep them safe. He's already kidnapped Rico and cut off his hand. He nearly killed your father and my husband! If he wants us, he'll get us. And that's just something you're going to have to live with!"

"No.." I shook my head. I was resolute in this decision. He'd planned this all out from the beginning. That was why he chose now. He was a time fanatic. He knew what time it was.

"No what? Do you realize how much of a dumbass you're being? You're only gong to get yourself killed, and that's not going to be help to anyone!"

I turned on a heel and looked at her. By her expression, I could only guess what my face looked like.

"You asked me what I wanted you to tell me Family, right?"

She nodded.

"Tell them I'm sorry." I left her without another word and with a look that told her I would, in fact, kill her if she even thought about following me. After all, she had a husband to look after, as well as my father. She knew I trusted her above all others on my team.

I touched Angelo's door as I passed it, and my phone began to buzz. I had completely forgotten that I'd dropped it on the ground. Nudging it around with my toe, I found that Andre had sent me something.

"A video..?"

He was tied to a chair, much like Rico had been. Two men were on either side of him, and light from a bare bulb shone down on his head. It lit his eyes on fire. Or was it that he was angry?

I could hear the rhythm of the dance music as fuzzy static. It drowned out whatever the two men were saying, but it couldn't have been good. Andre stretched out of the way of one who was trying to bite his neck, but the other had begun a path of seduction with his hand down Andre's chest, stomach, and between his legs.

Noir was laughing.

"'hold 'is 'ead up, I want to see 'is face.." One of the men obliged, and grabbed a fistful of Andre's hair, pulling it back. His face was blank of all emotion. I was proud of him. "Bon soir, mon petite vingt-quatre. You'll say bon soir to Bonita Nonita, won't you, homosexuel gar?on..?"

Andre's eyes flared wide in surprise, and he stared at the camera in Noir's hands with a mixture of betrayal and hurt on his face. But I'd told him that Noir knew..

As soon as it showed itself, it vanished, and my cousin laughed merrily. "It's always a pleasure, Cyclops. Although, I have to say, your welcome crew is a little unfriendly.."

I vaulted the staircase down to my front door and raced out to my car with Andre's shouts of pain as my background music.

I wasn't too late. I couldn't be too late..

Noni coaxed her father's car into going past its limit. She knew she was going to pay for it later, but right now.. she couldn't be bothered with it. The falling shadows of darkness made the club's blinking neon sign a beacon and it made her squint as she fought to keep the car from jackknifing. Her lips moved as she muttered and prayed to herself, Luvvie's black metal flashing in the sparse light. She ripped open the back door of the silver car and kicked the fake backseat open. Within were at least twelve weapons: six rifles, and six semi-autos - all loaded and all new. She was against using other weapons, so her willingness to do so was a testament to the direness of the situation. She grabbed two of the semi-autos and a handful of clips. Then, she slipped noiselessly in through the blown out front door, her Docs squishing congealed blood through the grooves in their soles.

Even if he was untied, Andre wouldn't have wiped the crackling riverbeds on his face. He recognized the man, but not really. He had seen him once or twice. And he couldn't remember his name for the life of him. He felt as if he was doing a disservice by not knowing this. Mostly, however, was the sound. That was what consumed him. The sounds he heard. And the sight matching them. His brain struggled processing both things at once. But stored both for future use. Now, separately, he relived the moments in echoes. Nevermind him. He just saw..."Rico..." He remembered. His eyes widened remarkably, and feasted on the puddle and chair left behind. That chair stored a soul. One little piece of a young soul. It would never be the same chair again. And Andre would never be the same again.

The remnants of a disco ball littered the floor. The music still pulsed for no one. Like it hadn't realized the club had emptied. It was unconventional, odd. Everything looked like all of those people would come back any second. Ready to dance, ready to drink. Noni smelled blood right away, and it was in greater quantities than the unlucky fellow behind her. Like a ghost, she haunted the empty club. Like a shadow, she slithered along the wall, and soon caught sight of the bartender whose head was nearly shorn of by a bullet. But none of it looked familiar. Noir had been gracious enough to leave her a clue, and nothing in her immediate vicinity was it. Andre wasn't in the main room, he wasn't in a bathroom, he wasn't in a storage room. Chocolate brown eyes narrowed on a door that said 'Employees Only' and had a little sad face painted beneath it. She bit down on any thoughts of Andre's kidnapping. Noir wouldn't have ceased to tell her that. Trying the handle of the door, she found it locked. There was no hesitation in her pulling out one of the silver semi-autos and blasting the thing to kingdom come. She pulled it open, and it squeaked and roared.

There was more blood here, and the smell of it was starting to make her stomach churn. Normally, she didn't have to deal with it. She just caused it to flow, and left it for the cleaners. Her gun dropped from her hand as she saw Andre in the chair, covered in crimson, staring like a deer in the headlights at the gore before him. " .. shit.." It was more a whine, and held more breath than voice. But her throat was torn, so that was to be expected. "Andre..?" She hurried to him and stood between he and the blood; then knelt, pawing him, checking him over. She quickly discerned that the blood wasn't his.

Andre's ironclad stare rotated like a steady spotlight. He didn't once look to Noni. He instead looked down at his lap. It was the first time he'd done that. It was as if words had been amputated like Rico's hand was. They were gone. Completely disabled from use. His head hung low. He wanted his face hidden by his hair. His wrists were not bloodied or bruised. Proof he didn't move or struggle since the visit had even begun. His hair was dried into reddened chunks. As Noni patted him over, he acted like a limp puppet. Literally, he was motionless, emotionless, and speechless. Yet, he felt as if he was ready to burst. And his trembling irises showed that. The eruptive nature of green had a shimmer that was unexplainable.

"Thank god.." Such relief in her voice, someone else might think Noni didn't really speak at all. She kept a tight lid on all emotional outlets, but once in a while, they got out. She was grateful for being able to lose control on Tam. Her tiny hands came away from him covered in red, and she felt around his bonds for the knot. It was huge. And made of how many ropes - nothing she could untie without at least ten minutes without interruption. And that was something she didn't have. "Don't move." A rock hard command from the Assassin, though Andre really didn't seem like he needed to be told. She tugged Luvvie out of her sling, spun her around her index finger, set her muzzle to the knot. And fired. The bullet TWANGed off the floor, and her head flew back with the impact. With her free hand, she tore the ropes from Andre's body, and spat. The slug sounded like a bell as it hit the floor. She gave bite the bullet a whole new meaning.

Andre's eyelids winced. And like the limp puppet he was behaving like, he let his arms fall to his sides. They hung off the sides of the chair. But what he did manage to do was stand. He stood. And as if to reluctantly play the role of a grateful free man, he massaged his wrists. Yet those green eyes looked into the walls before him with a gaze that glowed that it looked anywhere but into that wall.

"Where did they take him." She returned Luvvie to her holster, and shook her head to rid her damp brow of curly bangs. Her ears were perked beyond their usual point, eyes paying attention to every last detail, including Andre. She was thankful for the fact that he didn't fall over, but this stony side of him was something she hated seeing.

He picked up the Polaroid off the floor. It fell face up, thankfully. Turning on his slow-moving feet, he stood upright. Towering over her, he held out the photograph. "Check my phone." Eyes finally looked to her. And in those green stained glass circle-shaped windows. Sunlight did not illuminate the glass. Something else did. Something unknown. And in that, he gave that to Noni. Finally, the glass proved true. And sobless tears fell down from the corners of his eyes. The tears mixed with the foreign blood. "His name....is Rico, right?"

Noni produced the picture Tam had found in her house, and once she took the one Andre held, she compared them side to side. Her lips pursed. 'Check my phone.' Right. Neither of these pictures held any such clues as to where she would find Rico. The video probably did. Her bloody fingers traced over Rico's face like it was the real thing. The progression of injuries in the photos was staggering. "Rico, yeah.." She pocketed both pictures, and looked up to find Andre crying. Her jaw finally unclenched, and her mouth gaped in surprise. It wasn't like she shouldn't have guessed it. "Oh my god, he made you watch. Andre.." Much like that other fateful night, Noni tried to tug her taller cousin into her arms to squeeze him tight. Half for his sake, half for hers. " .. I'm so sorry..."

Andre was pulled. He let himself plunge down to the tiny one that tried to embrace him. It took much force for him to show fondness. He usually was so affectionate. But he nearly felt as if it were unnatural to do such now. He was still in shock. If that's what one would call it. Andre found that name giving was too unfitting for a moment in time such as now. Like any true South American, however, that was not to last long. He finally let go. Whatever was built in the moments after it happened and now was torn down by the pressure. It was too much. And he gave his younger cousin a squeeze. Eyes remained opened. They bled colorlessly for Rico.

She laughed weakly. "I know what he's thinking.." Noni patted Andre's shoulders as she talked. She felt horrible that she, who knew Rico better, wasn't crying for him when Andre was. But maybe it was because she knew him better that she didn't. In any case, she couldn't have handled what Andre had. And she knew it. And the thing was.. Noir knew it too. " .. he's just waiting to die. He doesn't think I'm going to try and help him.." This was something she had been thinking about for the past hour or so. If Noir killed him, her last words to that little spanish idiot would be telling him how much she would love killing him. Her hands slid from Andre's arms and shoulders, and she tried to use the back of them to wipe his face clean.

The fields of wheat colored strands were stained with blood. He'll never forget the white of cut bone. And the color red against it. It would fill his dreams. His daydreams. Even his thoughts. The sound kept reverberating in his mind. It kept its own rhythm with no metronome. Gentilities, like Rico's hand, was sliced away. Round edges were now smoothed but with jagged edges. Something was lost in Andre that night. It was obvious by how different he seemed. He could probably be deaf to the once insufferable uselessness of Fio's bickering. It all would be naught. Nothing but nothingness itself. "He took it with him...." He looked to the door Noni shot open. "My phone's on the dance floor."

"He took it..?" Blinking, then following his gaze. She didn't know if he was talking about Rico's hand or something else. But it was probably the former. Noni gave his arm a hard squeeze and slipped back out of the room, grabbing her dropped gun on the way. The phone was lonely on the ground, and Noni squatted down before it, bringing it up before her eyes with apprehension. She flicked glances to Andre as she inspected it.

He followed after her in his own pace. What was the rush? Only corpses filled this fast lane of a place. He actually walked towards the DJ's station. He pulled the universal plug. And the booming pulse of the building flat lined. What was odd was that Andre's eyes seemed even more of a dead line than the silence. Vibrancy of green was remarkable in the eyes of a traumatized young man. He wasn't quite young, but he was nowhere near old. As needless as it was, he needed to say it. It had to be spoken. It took him one step closer to acceptance. "His hand. He took it with them."

"Thank god. I assumed he'd leave it as a tasty party favor for me.." Said more to herself than anything, and with any lack of remorse for the fact that that very incident had scarred her cousin. After all, she had made her decision. What else was there to care about. But.. "Andre, I'm sorry, I didn't.." Noni sighed forcefully and punched buttons on his phone, scrolling through recent texts and videos taken. She has no idea what she's looking for, but is pretty sure she'd know it when she saw it.

Windows flew open with technological excellence. And then through the picture al;lbum, the latest picture uploaded would definitely snag attention. It went from whacky photos of him, Fio, and Vladimir to a centerpieced image of a mansion. Andre crossed his arms put his head down on a stray table, arms over the back of his head. No sounds emerged from him. Only breathing.

Nostrils flared to help her suck in breath because her jaw had clenched so tightly. She knew that if she opened her mouth, something would come out of it. Noni grunted softly, as if in pain, her cell phone hand shaking. It was like she was staring down a dark tunnel, and this disgusting reminder of a photo was her light at the end of it - her beacon. " .. I have to.. bathroom!" She bolted for the ladies room, dropping Andre's phone with a clatter.

The clattering phone had his head rise. It wasn't startlement. Rather, a prompting reaction to such a thing. Standing slowly, he walked wearily to the dropped phone. Picking it up, and beholding the screen, he looked towards the path Noni took to the restroom. He didn't find the image familiar. Not right away. Instead, he kept his gaze at the screen as he followed the rocketing steps of his younger but talented cousin.

Having her hair pulled back already aided *very* much in the retching process. Noni had thrown up everything she had eaten in the past few days already, so all that was left was coffee, dry heaving, and blood left from her ripped up throat. Tears came from her eyes when she gasped for air, clawing at the handle to get the contents of the toilet to swirl away. She then sat on the floor, one hand on her mouth the other across her forehead. As Tam had heard not too much earlier, screams sliced through her voice box like an angry bear; muffled, but not greatly, by her hand.

His numbing reverie was given an end when panic came to his ears in the form of extreme emotion coming from someone who wasn't terribly extreme in behavior. This night was a stained night. A night stained with grief, scars, and blood. But it was time to ignore the self. And focus on others. Andre darted into a reflexively swift speed towards the bathroom. Thrusting a hand to swing the door opened, he ran inside. His cell phone was tucked into his pocket on locked mode. The screen would remain on that picture, no matter what button was pushed. His run slowed to a jog. That slowed to an observant walk. And then, he pulled the stall door opened where he saw sprawled legs. Some fallen curls clung to the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Falling to panted knees, he unbuttoned his stained shirt. Underneath was his black wifebeater. And that subtle smell of high quality cologne. "Noni...? Noni..." He couldn't compete with the screams. He instead kept it constant in hopes of somehow being heard. If he wouldn't be heard, he certainly would be felt. His hands reached for her shoulders. Most of the other moments like these, he would cry. Or even be repulsed by the vomiting. But the sight of amputation and surviving the such added resistance. Remarkable resistance.

It was like she was watching herself from above, Watching, wanting to change her reaction, but not able to do a thing. She wasn't the one that that was supposed to fall apart, she wasn't the one that was supposed to be hiding in a bathroom, she wasn't the one that was supposed to be crying her eyes out. All those people - they were supposed to come to her. She was supposed to be strong, and she was supposed to take care of situations with proficiency, stealth, and above all silence and intimidation. But Noni didn't have any of those things now, and she knew that she wouldn't have them for a very long time. She had forgotten Andre was there at all - why she had come here in the first place. When he touched her, she spasmed into an upright position, Luvvie drawn with the hand that had been covering her mouth. Her teeth were grit, and they were pink with the blood that kept coming up and that she kept swallowing. Her fingers performed the operations mechanically - push the hammer down, squeeze at the trigger. Until.. " .. A-Andre..?"

His own hand, though not proficient, was sufficiently stronger. It cut through the air, covering her hand to guide the gun groundwards. Eyes were slightly wide. It was frightening to be on the wrong end of the bullseye. "Noni. It's me. Calm down." They were orders. Clear. Firm. She needed foundation. And he hoped his clarity would give her some form of that. He gave a gentle pull at her fingers, hoping to undo her grip on the gun. If he didn't win that, he always had a more intimate grasp of her hand and the gun itself. He'd settle for that. Beggars couldn't be choosers in moments of emotional pandemonium. He was in turmoil, too. But somehow, he wasn't as bad as Noni was. It had something to do with that picture. He knew it. But that was all he knew. With any luck, he'd change that tonight. "What is that picture of? Why did he put it on my phone. I need you to answer me, Noni..."

"I didn't.. want to. H-he's, he knows..?" The ramblings of her words were cut by the rattling of Luvvie onto the floor. She shook her head at Andre's words, her hand in his shaking like a leaf. "He kn-knows, Andre.. why..?" Again, her head shook. " .. I didn't w-want his damn.. *job*.. Why is he d-doing this to me..?" Tiny packages always held the biggest things. She was like a nylon stocking: small, able to hold and cover so much, but at the slightest tear would go to pieces. Like Tam, Andre would get to see how much this delicate stocking had to hold, and how badly it was already coming apart.

Andre gave a snatch to the gun on the floor. He put it behind him, tucking into his waistband as if he'd done the action from the day he was born. He suddenly knew how to handle a situation he'd never been in before. Perhaps it was primal thought. Or reflexes. Or a mix of the two with a dash of common sense. Whatever it was, Andre brought both hands to cup Noni's quivering ones. The tile allowed him to scoot into view of her. Jade eyes were different, but concerned. They had a candied hardness to them, but still that soft translucence remained. Andre was here. And he couldn't put the pieces together. Not when he just saw a hand get cut off in front of him. "Noni..Tell me why he left that picture in my phone." He didn't want to give fake answers to questions he didn't know the answers to.

He deserved to be punished and completely dismembered for what he was doing to her Family, for what he was doing to her friends. Andre's comfort ignited a flame of strength deep in the shadows of suicidal thoughts, and Noni sniffed, blinking hard to clear her eyes of tears. She swallowed multiple times, finding it ironic that she was able to cry but not produce saliva. Her tongue tried and half succeeded to wet her lips. She cleared her throat, and swallowed blood. "It's the Montez mansion, where I-.. where Angelo.. was killed." She figured that answer would span over his question.

"Angelo was shot there. " Andre didn't know Noni's secret. And her error in speaking was forgiven and not suspected of anything too filthy. Andre stroked his thumbs across her tiny hands. Massive met small, and it was something he was used to. With a majority of female relatives, it was a way of life. Nodding softly, he stayed simple. To the point. His firm directness seemed to be relieving to her as he had hoped. "Can you stand? We need to get out of here, Noni.."

"He wants me to go there, he's going to kill Rico. He's doing it because he's jealous. I never wanted any of this, Andre..?" How does the saying go: don't count your chickens before they've hatched? "I never wanted to usurp him, I never wanted to kill people.. I don't like killing people.." Approaching the edge of another breakdown, but her words about Rico kept her grounded. Tam was right, he was going to go through anyone and anything to to make his point.. Staring down at Andre's hands, then up into his bloodstained face, she felt the first minute waver in resolution. But she needed to clamp down on those thoughts, otherwise... "We..?"

Andre only nodded her through. She needed a silent coach. Someone to hold her by the hand while emotional therapy was taking effect. She didn't need spoon feeding. He smiled as if he was newly washed. He looked like the millions of dollars under his name in his inheritance in that moment. "I'm coming with you. At least leaving here. I'm not leaving you alone here. And I'm not leaving me alone here."

It scared her when he said that. She didn't want him to be there when... Then a sigh of relief. "Right.." Noni had to smile too. After all, why shouldn't he see it? Why shouldn't he see anything? Plus, she had already leaked at least six gallons of salt water by now, and screamed her throat to death. How much more emotion could have been inside? Don't answer that. "Will you stay with Tamara at my house? She needs help taking care of Claude and my father.." She felt sick asking him to leave her like this, but she didn't want to burden him with any fraction of what she was carrying around.

Andre looked downwards a moment in thought. Eyes searched the floors as if they had the answers to a prized exam. And then, in the next moment, he looked back to her. "I can do that. But what about you? You're not staying here."

"I know that." A deep breath. "I'm going back to Montez.. I don't want Rico to die thinking that I don't give a shit." She should have treated him better, she knew. Even all that stuff he said about her face, which was now just a plain number made out of thin scabs, was completely obsolete.

He nodded. He just needed to know. Andre had to. Especially since objectivity was his only salvation from his own load of scars beginning to decay from neglect inside of him. "Alright. Come on.." And he guided her to stand. He held Luvvie in his waistband, focusing on getting her to her feet before handing her back the firer's fifth limb.

There was nothing for it since Noni knew she wouldn't be able to get to her feet herself. The weight of the night's upcoming events had begun to wash over her, and for some reason... she felt strangely weightless. Andre pulled her up without issue, but she gripped him to keep from wobbling. "Andre, do something for me, okay..?" She slipped her hands from his, one dropping to the side, one waiting for Luvvie to be returned.

Pulling the firearm from his waistband, he gently placed the weapon into her small hand. His strength was a contradiction to her frailties. It was a complimentary duet. One that was functional, anyway. A naked but strong arm was around her waist to give the proper support. That hand secured her to him enough for walking to be possible for the two of them. His other hand groped his back pocket for his phone. It was a habit, at this point. "What do you need?"

It was a reflex, that spinning of Luvvie around her finger before shoving her back in her holster. Noni, too, snaked an arm around her cousin's waist, giving him what she hoped was a comforting squeeze. "Tell everyone that I'm sorry.."

Andre looked down to her, blood stained face forgotten by the owner. And his brows were up. That caused the dried blood to crack. Some flaked off. Others remained in jagged jigsaw pieces of red on his skin. "Sorry? Noni, you've done nothing but your job. He's doing all this to you. He should apologize." His voice darkened. And lowered. "..With his life."

Noni snorted. "I.. yeah. But, please.. and talk to Tamara." Nodding, her curls, drenched with sweat, still bouncy.

"Alright." Andre walked them through the rooms. And onto the dance floor. He looked a final time to his dead friend of a bartender named Gerard. He remembered all the moments they had. And the time he gave a lap dance to him while he was still engaged to his current husband. Well, widower, now. And he looked back down to Noni. He didn't even notice his bloody face in the bloodied mirror. Blood was the constancy in this scene. It was all the same to him. "I will. I'll spread the word to the others. I'm sure Fio will want to know."

Noni laughed. "Yeah.. yeah, I'm sure she would. I'll drop you off at my house." She, too, looked down at the bartender with a pained expression. It set her gears in motion. "We have to hurry, come on." There was a flurry gentle sidestep, and she was out the door, the engine revving up a few seconds later.

Andre nodded to her. And when her speed had the best of him, he only smiled. That was the Noni he recognized. And he walked after her. It wasn't often he was in the same car as Noni. He secretly forgot of her driving personality. And in that, he buckled up.

And the black bag of a veil was ripped off. Kissing what was underneath was like kissing the bride of Macabre in all essences of the word.

Rico was barely recognizable. It was the inanimate, unloving accessories that were dangling from his ears that made any sort of character trait.

That face wasn?t a face anymore. Just a stew of skin, bone, muscles, and blood. Shadows made the skin look more like ice cold clay. Light made the sweat and blood look more like puss and glaze over the horrifying thing.

The neck it sat on gave the winning hint that it once was a human being.

The stained, ripped wife beater and dress shirt worn hinted that the breathing, groaning being was a human man.

Clothes didn?t resemble clothes anymore. Just another kind of destroyed on top of more tarnished living materials. Organic rot began to set in. Infections.

Halfassed bandages wrapped a stubbed end of a limb. That missing part was on the floor along the wall. Also rotting. Also dying.

Rico was dying.

A hefty white over coat was thrown against a skeletal wooden chair. So was a half-empty pack of cigarettes.

A match was struck. And a gritted stick of white was lit at the end by the burning splinter held tip-to-tip. White teeth shimmered in the brief ember igniting into the dark room. A cellar light was lit in the corner. That was all they had. It didn?t matter. They didn?t need a spotlight for their star anymore.

A puff is taken, and the match was still lit. ?Vell, Rico, I must say. I ?aven?t ?ad zhis much fun in years.?

---

Andre scooped crisp, cold water onto his cracked face. Red turned to pink.

And for several minutes, only pink water spiraled down the drain of the sink. Hands that were equally stained red also had pink dripping off of them as they rubbed furiously up and down his face. Pausing, he turned the faucet off.

Resting masculine hands on either end of the sink, his dripping hair and face hung low. He had been washing is face and hair in the sink for over an hour. And even though the pink stopped flowing, he still didn't feel clean.

He still felt blood on him, somehow.

He even pulled his wifebeater off in desperate attempts to get rid of that wretched feeling. If he was alone, he would've stripped down completely in hopes of erasing that filth from his skin. Instead, he stood there.

Breathing. Dripping. In the kitchen.

"I didn't think that it would have shaken you up this bad, seeing what she does." Not even the door frame squeaked when she leaned against it. Her long curtain of hair swished along her back as her head tilted, as her arms folded.

As she studied him.

Tamara had had sparse meetings with each of the Bohannon Family, and it was something she really didn't mind. After all, spying on them wasn't her job. That is unless otherwise specified.

No. Tonight she did it out of leisure.

Because as cocky and ridiculous as Claude was, she felt safe in this house with him outside it. And she allowed herself these moments.

"It's not what she did. It's what he did." Andre gave it a long marinating pause before answering her misled observation. "It's what he did to Rico."

That name will forever bring forth tonight's horror to his mind. To his eyes.

It was a done deal the second he remembered that guy's name.

He would've rambled on and on about the night's happenings, but she was Noni's teammate. And if she was anything like Noni, his emotions would be wasted on her if he did such a thing. Another point that kept him from being too expressive was the fact that he'd only seen her a couple of times in the past.

He lied to himself. Told himself it would all fade away. Like a bad dream. Back was turned on the sink, and he leaned against the counter. His hands clenched the edges with a slight grip. A slight grip to Andre, however, was much more to anyone of any less stature than him.

"You have to realize that she does the same thing, only cleaner." Tam's plump, dark red mouth spread into a smile.

Unlike Noni, her emotional capacity wasn't closed off.

As much as her occupation professed - Tamara was a woman, and she behaved like one when she felt it necessary. She crossed the kitchen floor in a single stride and pulled open a cupboard mounted on the wall like she owned the place. She'd seen how he and her boss had come back, and she could only imagine what it was Noir did to their rookie.

She sucked in a breath, prepared to say something, and held it, studying him like he was a new life form just discovered. Cap removed from the tequila bottle, she emptied a generous portion into the glass, and slipped up before him. "What happened?"

Jade circles were crestfallen. His gaze went back and forth between the floor and the wall across from him. He ran his slightly pruned fingers through his wheat brown hair. It was brown again. But he wouldn't believe that. Not for a long time.

He heard glasses collide. Liquid poured. But the smile did coax a weak grin from his hardened lips. Andre took the glass, downing the Tequila with Argentinean-bred stride. He would've made Francisco proud. And that thought made him grin a little more sincerely.

Glass was set down on the counter that made a tapping noise. "Gunfire. Only one shot. I was at the club. They kept me there."

Andre didn't have to spell it out. And he wouldn't. "They made me watch." He paused; the hand that was lodged into his hair came to cover his eyes. It ran down the rest of his face. Stopping with his fingers hooked to his broad shoulders. "Noni doesn't do that."

"No." It was a little more clipped, a little more severe. Like she was telling a little kid to stop doing something stupid. "No, she doesn't. She's not the type to want to hurt people. Especially her Family. But you know that already, don't you?"

Tam took the glass up in hand and filled it once more, only halfway this time. "My name is Tamara, by the way. And that gargantuan Noni nearly shot is my husband, Claude." Holding out the glass to him, she drummed her acrylic nails along it to get his attention.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Mr. Bohannon," manners and the like, "but your life is one that's settled directly on the fine line between ignorance and reality. You can't hide from the dark side of your relatives forever."

Taking the glass, his grin was turned to her directly at her complimentary introduction. He appreciated it, but at the moment, he was having difficulty showing it without furrowing his brows. So, he didn't. Downing half of that glass with the same rapidity, he kept his fingertips enveloped around it.

"Nice to see you, too." He replied, even after her definition of his existence.

Dimmed humor lingered in his voice. And a soft, passive acceptance of what she spoke of. She was right. And he's known that ever since he could conceive such a concept. That grin melted to a pained smile. The kind of smile a man gave when he knew he was a helpless wheel in a machine far grander than himself.

"Did she say anything weird to you?" Tam asked after a moment's pause.

She continued to study him, as was her nature. She was, or has been told, that she was creepier than Noni when she did. The only thing she attributed it to were her eyes. In the darkness of the window behind
Andre, they seemed to glow, no shadows touching them. Long fingers kneaded the crooks of her elbows as she waited for a response.

She didn't have a good feeling about this situation. She rarely did when it involved being told to stay behind or be killed.

"She asked a favor from me..." Finally, the glass was put down on the counter. He kept his eyes downward on it. "To tell the rest of my Family that she was sorry. And that was all." Dre looked back to those frostbitten eyes with his thawing Jade ones.

---~---

Rico breathed what he began to realize were useless breaths. Well, he realized they were useless since pros like Noni, Tam, Claude, and everyone else would?ve found him by now if they tried. Even in his thoughts, he half referred to Noni as that cool number she had on her face. But she told him not to call her that. And even in his thoughts, he took that threat to heart.

The agony bruised, mashed, and cut onto his face faded a moment later.

Smiling wasn?t an option. Those muscles don?t move that way anymore.

He could barely feel his face. But what still worked well enough was his throat. The French fxck steered clear of his neck and throat. And in that, a rattle came through. Laughter. Weak, croaking, coughing, laughter.

The French Head Hunter bit into his cigarette from appearances, but he knew the exact decibel of pressure to apply without breaching the white skin of his cancer stick. It was a life stealer, and he enjoyed it. Slowly, he?d kill himself. It was his own little plan. A plan only he understood. He?s killed thousands in seconds. Retribution came in slow torture. And in that concept, he felt saved. Saved in advance from himself.

?Pencils down, students. Time to pay attention.? Came the French-stained words. His stupid grin was kept on as weak smoke oozed slowly from his mouth. ?Lesson one. Know ?ow to take your time.? He paced in a circle around the seat of the mutilated Rico.

Class wasn?t over, yet.

Noir wasn?t quick to rage. He didn?t have a temper at all. And that?s what also made him a far more chilling foe. It was nearly impossible to get under his skin. Lips covered his teeth and their hold on the coffin nail, sucking on the stick as if a lollipop was hidden in the depths of his tongue and mouth. In fact, hits to his ego amused him. It was like telling him a good joke.

?Zhis is true. A bit too...?ow do you say..? Presumptuous?? Nodding admittedly, he smiled as if he spoke to a close a friend. But that smile would make any sane person want to punch it out of existence.

He paused, as if he had just discovered something for the first time. His eye squinted a moment, as if to get a better look. Then, he took a lean.

He was a master of balance. He was on the heavier end of the front to legs of the chair. The front legs were up in the air.

His white gloved hand was brought to his mouth. Teeth bit down on fabric, pulling off the glove. A naked hand reached to one of his ears, poking at a golden earring.

?Nice jewelry. South American gold? The purest kind.?

---~---

"Whoa ho, there compadre, where the fuxk are you going?" In one smooth arc, he'd pointed the muzzle of the AK-47 directly at Andre's face.

The porch light did wonders illuminating one of the elusive Bohannon elite, and both of Claude's eyebrows shot up on his forehead.

The phone to Andre's ear was ringing, and he waited for the other line to pick up. His head turned to him before his eyes did. Jade diamond grinders turned to him. They didn't even look at the gun.

He didn't say anything. Ears then went to the side, and he switched to Spanish.

"?Hola? ?S?, Alhambra? Necesito un coche conducido a m?. No, necesito para conducirlo. Que alguien lo conduce sobre a m?. Necesito para conducirlo s?lo. Ningunas preguntas. Estoy en la casa de Noni. Venga al conduce la manera. D?galos poner las luces de emergencia tan yo s? que es para m?. ?Conseguido? Gracias. Yo le dir? m?s tarde. Gracias."

End Call Button was pushed, and his phone was tucked back into his pocket, as he did this, he kept his eyes on Claude. "You must be Claude." He had wiped his many tears away thanks to the wife beater going along his face as he put it back on.

"Si si, mi amigo chupacabra," His fry hand touched his brow and flicked off - a weak salute that looked like a regular salute's retarded third cousin.

Seconds after that horrid attempt on the Spanish language, Tam emerged from the shadows of the house and laid her injured hand on Claude's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. It was remarkable how much that one small gesture accomplished.

The American looked as if he wanted to touch Tam's fingers but immediately thought better of it. "She's doing it to protect all of you," She said to Andre's back, fairly sure that he knew what Noni's plans were.

"He won't stop. Noir never will. When he's done with her, he'll blackmail the crap out of us. He'll have us by the balls until the last one of us is six feet under. If I stay here, my only hope is that he dies before the last one of us does."

Andre looked out onto the driveway, hoping the car arrives soon. It was the same car he'd use to drive his one night stands homes. Or to pick him up from them. Usually, the driver would come with clean clothes. He hoped this one would. But if the driver didn't, he couldn?t care less.

"...I don't care." Belatedly, to Tamara.

----~----

Rico took a shaky breath. Arms were bound with duct tape. Reginald looked to him with his eye. Deep. Going back and forth between his barely-opened ones. He twitched the gun into a readied hold. Barrel came close to his forehead, promptingly. Softening the extension of his quick arm, Reginald tapped his neck with a grin. He wanted a conversation. And he would get it.

Rico flinched violently, arms twitching, the one without a hand twitching more due to phantom nerves reacting to something that isn?t there anymore. He coughed, groaning softly before looking to the French prick with an ever-hating frown.

?...Bolivia. La Paz, Bolivia?? Rico coughed that response, literally.

?Ah. Cheap gold. But pure. Very nice...?

The barrel of his gun went from ear to ear. The tip tapped each earring in inspection.

The Head Hunter smiled, nodding as if he was fascinated of his answer. He wasn?t fascinated at all. But he loved having fun with things. It made the kill go down smoother. And it was more fun. Again, he upnodded to one of the Henchmen. The one named Jean. And he worked to undo the ties binding Rico?s arms.

Reginald stood from his chair, kicking the chair to one side gently to give him room to stand.

A surprised expression came over Rico?s face. Noir smiled at his face.

False hope was his favorite flavor on his targets. They think they?re saved.

They think that some angel answered the phone upstairs and would flutter to the rescue and fix their peril. It was a wonderful thing to break.

Handgun was tucked into a thigh holster he had, rubbing his hands together. One was gloved, the other bare. Biting the fabric of the glove on his other hand, he pulled it off. With the other glove, he tossed it with his other white clothes. Snapping his now naked fingers together, the other henchman named Pierre came to Reginald?s side with a wet washcloth.
Rico?s expression went from surprised, hopeful, and excited to confused, dreading, and alarmed.

Noir smiled to him wide. Taking the wash cloth, he spoke pure smoke.

?You?ve ?ad a long night, oui? I?ll give Bonita some credit with choosing you. You?re vet be?ind zhe ears, but you have spirit.?

He paused, beginning to tedious wipe away at his face. Cleaning the blood off. It was a long ritual. Noir..was cleaning his face. Handing the red cloth back to Pierre, he gave Rico?s bruised but clean face a gentle smack.

?Zhere iz one thing I don?t like about you, though..?

The fond smile stayed. He brought both hands to cup his face. Fingers slowly slithered from his cheeks to his ears. Thumb and forefinger of each hand gripped the gold ring on his ears.

Rico?s look of alarmed turned to horror. Jean joined Pierre behind Rico. A gentle scream of metal whispered into the room its presence. Rico began to cry. Looking up at Noir, he was forced into standing. Rico?s height was 2-3 inches shorter than the Frenchman?s.

?You watch way too many movies.?

Ripping skin and chopping noises came. Two gold earrings fell to the ground. Inner curves of the rings had blood hugging their inside bends.

The undertone of all the noises was screaming. Shrieking. Sobbing. Rico?s cries for mercy and salvation.

----~----

To be honest, Tam thought that it was half for her Family, and half for herself. She massaged Claude's shoulder to keep him in check. "Are you sure?"

It was a test.

"Noir only wants Noni. If he wanted the rest of your Family, he would have started with your father. But instead, he orchestrated this master plan just get at your cousin."

"Mmmmm... So she's finally gonna let someone do her in..? Pfffffffffft, I don't believe that. Little bitch's got *way* too much fucking fire in her." Nodnodnod.

"He did start at my father."

Andre was beginning to see things clearly. He remembered back to that Bad Deal. That night when everything started going to shxt. Dre looked to Claude specifically, grinning.

"We all do." Andre secretly stepped up as the heir to the Bohannon's fortune. He remembered.

He was The Son. The Good Son.

And two yellow blinking lights on a Mercedes Benz drove up to the driveway. Another followed after it.

Andre descended the steps of the porch, walking to the car in a half jog, half walk. The car was kept on. The second car drove off.

Getting into the car's driver's seat, he began to back out of the driveway.
Tam chuckled. He was right, but he was wrong. "Noir would have started on any Family member that crossed his path. You both were just the first that did so.." She shook her head gently, freeing her brow and shoulders from her waistlength fall of loose hair.

"Do you think he'll get there in time..?"

He shook his head gently.

"No. You know her, she doesn't let anyone stop her from doing anything.."

----~----

?I would?ve let you keep more, but your damn blood vessels couldn?t keep all zhat blood off of my coat, could zhey??

Rico was barely alive. His face was clean, and decipherable. Misery, and fading light in his eyes. Ridiculous but thick rounds of bandages were already turning pink by blood staining the white gauze. Jean and Pierre were nowhere to be found.

Seconds later, they came back into the room. Speaking slang French to the Head Hunter, he left the barely living Bolivian amateur in the room. He didn?t have a leg to run away with the other. And he didn?t have enough arms to undo the duct tape around the hand remaining. Noir replied to them in French and gestured to the floor.

The two Henchmen picked up Noir?s fallen, stained, drenched-in-blood articles of clothing. Thrown in black trash bags, they walked the bag after Noir.

While they tidied up, the Head Hunter browsed the house. Giving a slow stroll about the house from the front door back to the Wet Room. They all called it the wet room.

All the walls, floors, pictures, and lightbulbs were coated red with shining blood. It was a freshly wet cutting ground.

Giving a grin to the two of them once all three shared the same room as the unconscious Rico, he smiled.

?Excellent job, boys. We?re almost done ?ere. She will come soon. You men are very creative. My own personal Picassos!?

The two laughed, and Noir flicked the nearly done cigarette at Rico. He began to awaken, but he looked different.

As different as any young man who had pieces of himself shown to him would.

Andre was speeding. He had no change of clothes. But he was cleaner than before. Free of the red from his skin.

Constantly, hands were at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel. Eyes would drift down to his hands. His arms. And the rearview was given a glance, to see fragments of his face. He didn?t believe his eyes. Or the mirrors. He felt disgusting, still.

As jade eyes looked to the road and followed the Navigation afforded to him by his cell phone. GPS had its uses.

Door slammed on his black Mercedes Benz. Jogging through the lavish front yard, he looked back at his car. He didn?t bring any pieces with him.

And even if he did, he wasn?t proficient in them. Realizing that he didn?t know what he was in for backfired in his mind.

His mind should have freaked out, gotten back in the car, and called the police. Or Francisco. Or someone else with more of a mind for whatever was in that mansion.

But it didn?t.

What he did was another story. He witnessed a man?s hand being cut off. With that thought in mind, it couldn?t get much worse. Or so he told himself to get his pace into a run into the opened double doors.

Once he entered, he drew back at the stink of it. The stench.

Death was here. A lot of it.

A lightning bolt struck his mind. And the possibility that one of the many lives taken here was Noni?s had him ignore his turning stomach. It had him ignore the smell. It had him ignore the fact that he was unarmed.

All of it was ignored. The finger pointed up. He followed it.

The blood on the floor had his head spinning. But he had to hurry. He had to find her.

Before it was too late. The path of red revealed...Oh god. He had to lean against the wall and cup his mouth.

Two dead bodies. In an all but respectful pose. People, real people...dead. Right there. They?re right there. They died tonight. He immediately turned aw. Clenched fists came to his temples, eyes shut as he put pressure to both of his temples. Constant gasps mixed with gags.

Hands went down to his stomach as he nearly keeled over.

He saw it. And their eyes filled him. Empty eyes that had lives behind them. People he didn?t know. Murdered. It chilled him. He felt himself crumbling. So much for that masculine treat. He let out a gentle curse.

?Merde?Dios mio??

This house was horror. Pure horror. And pure death.

Pushing his wobbling body to walk past the corpses, he could see their posed bodies behind him as he passed them. Even though he hugged the walls, smearing blood on his skin, he could still see them. His eyes stayed glued to the ceiling as he walked.

He saw their bodies only changing angles as he all but looked at them. He felt his chest. He was wondering why his heart hadn?t stopped. His youth served him well this time.

He got to the laundry room. And he sighed in relief, looking around for some sort of hint as to where to go to next. He leaned on the washer for support. His legs were useless to him on their own. However, he had to move.

He was wasting time. He?needed to find her. And figure things out.

Another thing he wanted was for her to confirm it. If he could manage, he wanted her to tell him herself.

But most of all, he just wanted to make sure she was alright. The thought of her being hurt...That erased those dead bodies from his mind, if only for a moment.

Then, he noticed something. The darkness of the room led him to believe it was a dead rat. Dead rodents, he could handle. They actually gave him relief. He even approached it. He needed to know it was a rat for sure.

Judging by the size, it must have been some sort of vermin or pest of the house.

His own foot touched it, and turned it over. The sight of that had him draw back into the door, closing it behind him. He groped the wall for a light switch, gasping and begging for light. Thankfully, he flicked the switch.

It wasn?t a rat at all.

It was a foot.

The foot. It was still with a shoe. He recognized the shoe. Brows were scrunched.

He treated it like it was a ghost. He knew the owner of that foot. Hell, he met him at least twice in the past and probably found him to be something to look at.

What else did that sick French Cyclops cut off of that poor man?

He didn?t want to know, but if he knew Noir, he?d find out if he kept going.

He needed to keep going. He needed to keep going for her.

He wanted to yell. To shout. To express what was inside. But that wasn?t
an option.

And what wasn?t an option was to waste another second fighting nausea.

He could fight nausea while crawling into that chute. Stepping into it, he sri-lanked his way down. Feet hit the walls, walking him down as he clung to that rope for dear, dear life.

His dear life. As wretched as it was, he didn?t want to die. And he didn?t want his cousin to die, either.

Fingers turned ghastly white as they clung to that rope. Forehead was pressed to the rope. He still smelled blood. That stink. He felt like a child trapped in a room filled with evil imaginary friends. He was alone, but he was tormented by what only he could see.

That maid and butler. That foot. And all this blood on his hands. On his arms. He purposely ran his hands up and down that rope furiously in a trio of strokes. Rope burn. It helped. The searing pain had him think of his hands. His nerves. And not those poor, innocent bodies. And all that innocent blood.

Finally, his feet hit the ground. Only, it didn?t hit ground. It was an uneven impact. One that had him bump from wall to wall with his broad shoulders.

The box was preventing him from getting out of that chute. He was starting to get claustrophobic. Visions of those bodies, that foot, the bone and muscle that was cut upon for his viewing torment tornadoed through his mind. He lost strength in his legs, and leans against the wall. He?s trapped. All alone with nothing but death below, above and around him.

He began to ram his fists against the walls around him in spaced out collisions. He didn?t want to be here. He didn?t want to go back, but he didn?t want to be in this narrow place. He never realized how he hated tight places. Then, fortune twistedly smiled down on him. His weight caused the wood to splinter and break beneath him.

Collapsing the wood into chunks, he kicked and stomped it into pure sawdust. Well, small enough chunks for him to escape. Splinters implanted into his legs. Pieces of wood lodged onto his hands as he crawled out, hissing and wincing at the new wounds he earned. He didn?t care. He thanked those reminders that he was living. His body was in working order. His heart was racing, but still beating.

He made sure to rush through this room. There was an opened door with an earring of gold in it. He rushed through that door. The momentum had the door swing to nearly close, but didn?t. The moving shadows had him whip his head back.

And there was a limb. An arm. He recognized the arm. It was the sleeve.

That corny seventies print that wasn?t stained with blood. It was Rico?s shirt. Rico?s blood.

It was Rico?s arm. Hands went up, fingers lodging into his hair. He clenched his scalp, eyes to the ceiling. He was in hell. This is what it must have been like. This is what it must be like.

He forced his feet to move. Throwing his hands out of his hair, he gripped the railing of the stairs before he actually undergoes descending them.

There was a living man sprawled along the bottom of the stairs. He could tell that he was alive. He was groaning, breathing. It wasn?t relief, but it wasn?t anything that would add to his collection of scars on his soul.

He descended down the steps cautiously. But, his foot fumbled. Thanks to his hands on the rail, he didn?t tumble down the stairs. Instead, he ended up sliding in constant bludgeons of his rear end to the steps. He stood the second he stopped moving, which was when he stepped over the unconscious man with the leftover momentum. He couldn?t stay still.

And just then, he made eye contact with that eye. Jades fell onto a dark blues. Andre didn?t react other than that stare. He was frozen. It had only been a few hours since he?s seen that eye last. And that wretched leather patch.

And that damned smile. Noir acted quickly. It reminded him of the blinding flash of a camera taking a picture. Instead, it was a gun?s barrel. There was a flash, and his shoulder was breached. He felt it go in, and stay there.

A hot, steely, unwelcomed guest wedged itself in his shoulder. A deafening bang was nearly ignored at the next thing his now wide plates of jade beheld. Noni.

It was Noni. She was alright. Thank god, she?s alive. The pain had him blinded. But his eyes stayed open. They stayed on Noni. Immortalizing her in his mind. That number on her face. He saw her. She was alive. She was there. Once shot, he fell to lean his good shoulder?s side on the wall. A hand flew to his wounded shoulder.

It was glazed with blood. Red instantly. It was warm. It was his. And he did his best to stay standing. The elevation of the stairs had him sit on them, letting him still see her. Everything was starting to slow down.

Everything but the blood he felt pouring in his cupped hand on his new hole.

Delivering an exceptionally clean and quick roundhouse kick to the chair was placed upon, he kicked the chair to the side. It was knocked over, and that corpse still bound to it was the dead weight that only stirred due to momentum given by Noir's delivery.

Noni cried out as the entire contraption went flying away from her, and skidded across the floor. Rico - like a noodle - flopped dangerously around. The Assassin's own screams of horror matched her cousin's and she scrambled, falling on the knots that bound her teammate to his chair. Without any other option, she shot them free, and Rico's lifeless chunk of a corpse oozed off of its placement into her chest. He was still warm

"...NO!!!!" Yelled Andre, at the top of his lungs. It was then that, tears came pouring out of his eyes. Strings of red dripped down his mouth as well. "No...! NO!!" He shook his head repeatedly, pressing his temple to the wall of the staircase as his tears and blood mixed on the surface in smears. He kept watching. Those destroyed green orbs still watched it all. He looked at the body, eyes trembling within the white of his sockets.

She dropped Luvvie to the ground, watching as the rest of Rico's blood leaked all over her. Her hands were brought up before her eyes, and she found it hard to breathe. "Just like the last time, he planned it all to be just like the last time.. In this house, down here, why would he do this, why, Rico had nothing to do with anything, nothing. It was an accident, he didn't mean for it to happen, no one did.." She rambled like a patient in an asylum as she shimmied out from underneath Rico, and watched him smack like a steak into the ground. His blood was all over her, and she shook. "IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT, I DIDN'T MEAN TO.." She threw her head back and yelled until her lungs ached. "WHY?!" A rattling breath. "WHY?!" Another. "WHY?!"

Tam made a quick motion to try and hug Andre, providing resistance just in case he got a random surge of idiot and decided to charge in, guns blazing. "Mr. Bohannon, we need to leave. Now."

Grinning pure malice now, the date was meeting it's highest peak. The flowers were given. Movie watched, and the movie only was the background. Taking a long, deserving drag of his cigarette. He blew smoke at her fallen form. Surrounding her with the cancer she already suffered from in a different organ, he looked back to Andre and the pretty blue eyed Tamara. After her cries of ecstasy were through he answered her with the answer he didn't want to hear. "Because you're a killer. Everyzhing around you, close to your 'eart, dies when you touch zhem. Zhat is why."

He was sobbing openly now. He just watched that poor man die. Right then. And his last words were the most..silliest words he'd heard. But it didn't matter. That man still deserved his tears. As Tamara encompassed him, he didn't struggle. He couldn't anymore. The grief drained the life out of him. He couldn't respond to anything. But he forced it out of him. He squeezed his lungs to make them produce something tangible. "...Noni.." He didn't move, but he didn't struggle. He felt dead himself. Something else died tonight. And yet again, he still sobbed softly. But truly, he felt drained. He was only choking on breath while tears seeped into his mouth.

"I'm not, I never wanted to be.." Bloody hands dragged through her hair, and added to the liquid red already coating her skin. She had to look away from Rico, she had to. He looked too much like Angelo lying there, his mouth gently smiling. Noni grabbed Luvvie with a spasming hand and, her back halfway to Rico, she faced Noir. One tendril of mocha brown split her face right down the middle. On the ground, she stared up at the Devil Incarnate, her thumb performing the mechanical motions of cocking the hammer. Of readying her piece. (s)"If that were true, you would have died a long time ago.. I could take it all away from you, you know.. I thought I was being courteous, giving you a gift.." Slowly, she began to raise Luvvie to her left temple, and as she did, she smiled. (s)"I could cut you deep, Reggie. You'll watch me die right here, forever living with the fact that your purid life's ambition slipped through your disgusting, scalpel-ended fingers, and you wouldn't be able to do a damned thing about it... That's what it's really all about, isn't it, Reggie? About taking me down..? Well, now you have.. I can't go any lower, but I can go away.."

"Shit," she cursed. She could see Noni through the door, making ready to end her own life, and she knew that she didn't want to be a witness to it. She needed to get Andre out. Tam?s arms tensed as she tried to haul Andre up, fingers flying to his own to try and pry them from the railing so that it would be a lot easier to do. "She's not even herself anymore, Mr. Bohannon, you cannot save her. You need to let her go."

"What's it going to be, Reggie..? Do you want me to do it for you..? Like my Family had me do at seventeen? It seems I'm always doing what you can't do, doesn't it? You really are worthless.. Prove yourself. Kill me."

Andre?s eyes widened, and he launched himself towards Noni. But Tam, along with his bleeding shoulder, kept him from making much of a last stand. ?Don?t..Don?t let him win...No..? His hand was a ghostly white. Sure enough, the blood loss was against him as well. Feeling himself rise, Noni?s fallen body showed him the gun to her own temple. And her last challenge to that French Bastard had him shake his head frantically. ?NO! NOIR, STOP THIS! PLEASE! STOP! Don?t?.? He knew it was pointless, but the words that came out of his mouth weren?t meant to be received that way. The way it escaped his lips were spoken for words that were more along the lines of begging Noni. He couldn?t leave her! He couldn?t..! What kind of family member would desert another one to die? He could never stand again if he left. But Tam had him up and he leaned against the wall. His bleeding shoulder was getting the best of him. His arm and right side of his neck was shining red. Right when he had washed off, he was in blood again.

?She..she doesn?t deserve to die..! Oh god..Oh god..Oh my god..!? It was starting to truly sink in. And it had his short breaths puncture themselves with gasps to prevent his crying to be too much of a bawl. Tam was turning his back to her. They were both leaving her. This was so fxcked up. So wrong. So disgusting. He felt spineless. Useless. He couldn?t fight off Tam. He couldn?t fight anyone with that wounded shoulder making him weak. ?I love you, Noni..Don?t go..? As he turned away, his vision started to blur. Knees trembled, and as he forced his foot to lift and land on the next step up, he lost consciousness. Was it consciousness? Or was it just strength? He still heard echoing. But his eyes were closed. Damp eyelashes released more clear beads down his cheeks, as he managed to guide his body to lean on Tamara entirely. He was still there, but barely. Suddenly?he was very sleepy...

?I like a woman ?oo takes charge when eet matters. And ?oo would I prove myself to? You? I didn?t do zhis because of my size, or because of yours. I?m doing zhis because you do not belong ?ere. Not weeth us. Watching you all zhis time showed me just ?ow unfeet you a?e for zhe world you chose. You?re no monster at all. You?re a little girl who never grew up.? He walked to stand before her and pulled off his eyepatch. Hand came over top the leather, peeling over the covering. The empty blackness of his eyes was there. It was only black. A black hole. Slowly, he knelt down to her. ?And now, as a true monster, I do zhis for you. You will not go where Angelo?s gone. You know zhat, don?t you? Wherever it iz you are you are going, I will send you zhere. From one monster, to a masquerading one. I wanted to do zhis, before someone else deed. Eet has to be me...? He holstered his own piece. And he reached out to her, as if to help her up. Hand extended, fingers all descending to her. Palm was up. ?Geeve me your gun, Imposter.?

Dying.. it's not so hard. It shouldn't be. Taking life was always so easy for me, so having my own taken from me should be just as simple, right?

I feel.. weightless. I feel better. I feel nothing.. I looked down on my own body from above, and it was surreal. Those last moments, I could remember entertaining the thought of begging for my life. But then I would be abandoning my whole reason for even being there.

If I didn't fully save my Family and friends.. I set them up to continue in my stead.

The light above blinded me, and I shielded my face. My eyes burned like I was crying, but no tears came.

I'm sorry.. Everyone. I'm so sorry.. I didn't want to fail you.

Uncle, I'm sorry. I should have prepared better.. Eduardo, I'm sorry I won't be there if you come home. But I'll be waiting for you if you don't.. Andre, I'm sorry you had to be there for all of this. I'll watch over you.. Fiorella, I'm sorry I can't be there for you. But you're strong, I know you can handle anything.. Francisco, I'm sorry that I couldn't see your latest painting. I hope you and Anya will be happy together.. Dulcie, I'm sorry I can't teach you how to shoot. Don't ever lose yourself to this world..

Claude, Tamara.. thank you for always being there for me, and I'm sorry I couldn't return the favor.. Rico and Alek, there's no way I could ever scratch the surface of my remorse..

Reggie, I'm sorry.. You don't believe me, you never did, but I never meant to take anything from you.. I never wanted this, and I hope that when you killed me, you'll be able to start healing..

And finally.. Dad, Angelo.. I'm sorry I couldn't live on like you wanted me to.. I tried, and I did alright for a while, but I couldn't keep it up.. I hope that some day you'll forgive me..

A dark shadow hovered before me, blocking out the ivory light of what I hoped were the pearly gates. It was someone. They were smiling. Laughing. Extending their hand to me.

"Stop crying.. Noni.."

I took my brother's hand and squeezed it, and I smiled like I hadn't in years.

If I had lived through this.. I would have started smiling again.

Within the confines of his room on the Grounds of the Bohannon Mansion, Andre stood outside on the balcony of his vast room that offered a view of the courtyard. His eyes were glued on the lone white candle still floating in the fountain. The fire had gone out hours ago, but it didn't bother him. He'd light it in just a moment. The nurse would arrive at any moment to usher him there and change his bandages. His bedroom door opened and closed quietly, but instead of a nurse gliding onto the balcony, it was Fiorella. She was dressed finely in a flowing silk robe. It was covered in tiny red flowers which accented her flaming red hair. In the moonlight, the copper undertones glowed faintly among the curls pinned artfully to her head.

"Hermano," she spoke softly, alerting him to her presence. Green eyes drank I nthe sight of her younger brother; the slinged arm had him leaned against the ivory railway of the balcony with his hip. He sat loosely on the edge of the balcony while still keeping his feet on the ground. White unbuttoned dress shirt was through his good sleeve, but over his slinged arm. Looking away from below him to the sibling entering his room, he looked back into the night. This time, he didn't look down into the courtyard.

"I gave the nurse the night off." She stood in the doorway of the open french doors, staring at Andre's outline against the night sky.

"...Bueno." His voice was spoken with vocal chords that began to become unaccustomed to being used. It came in a slight hoarseness. Even though he agreed, he still looked away from her. And didn't move from his spot on the balcony.

The pain and horror was etched so deeply into the lines on his face that Fio wanted to just hold him. But it had been years since she'd hugged her brother and even now, in the midst of all that had happened, she didn't know how to approach him. "Hable con mi persona.. por favor? Let me change your bandages and we can talk about what happened. I need to know."

Remaining in the doorway, she watched him intently in silence. When he didn't move, Fio turned, disappearing into the bedroom. After several minutes, she returned with a bowl of warm water and a case containing gauze, antiseptic and tape. Moving silently, she joined him by the railing, setting the items on the wide surface and then peeled his shirt back. As she pulled his shirt back, he assisted by removing his arm sling. He kept his arm bent. Any sporadic movement of his arm while the wound was just beginning to close could rip open whatever repairing tissues had formed. "I've been told bits and pieces, but the puzzle still has some holes. I'm.." she trailed off, beginning to unwrap the gauze stretched across his bullet wound.

She'd yet to see his wound and when the last bits of gauze were pulled away, she winced. Fio was familiar with wounds like these, but seeing them on her brother made her stomach churn. "From what I was told, it was Reggie who planned the raid that night. Something about him not being happy about..." she paused, turning away from him to soak some cloth in the hot water. "...about Noni taking his place. But I'm a little shaky on the details in-between that moment and the night she died."

Her reaction to his wound had his chin lowering in shame. "He came to the club...He found me...Rico..was still alive. He...tied me to a chair. He made me watch..." It was too vague, he knew he had to specify. "I watched...Rico's hand.." He had to pause. He could see it in his mind. "Then...he took a picture. Leaving me there, he put a picture of the mansion on my phone.." He paused again. Secretly, he wished she'd apply the antiseptic. In a way, it helped. "..Noni....she came for me an hour later. After untying me, she wanted...she wanted me to tell the family that she was sorry.." His voice was lifeless. Except for the softness and lowering of his voice in certain parts, it was without much emotion. His eyes of green looked a dephtless gray in the evening. Andre refused to look at her.

"Noir decided to exact revenge by taking it out on the family." She nodded, gently prodding his shoulder with the cloth, tediously scraping away the oozing discharge from the wound that was just starting to heal, careful not to tear anything fresh. She let him speak and tried to fill in the missing pieces herself. "He found you at that club. I didn't know he knew.." she shook her head and continued wiping away. ?And he already had Rico? Right??

"Rico was with them when he came...Guns blazing." Andre nodded, his green voids for eyes looking into the depths before him, but at nothing at all. He was seeing it all again. At least, when he was awake, it was from his perspective. In his recurring nightmares, he saw it from his point of view. Over and over again. "He killed a bartender to find me. I tried to hide. To...get out. But he found me..."

"Noir tied you to a chair and tortured Rico in front of you, took a picture on your phone and sent it to Noni? He knew she'd come for you."

"No," He corrected. "He used an old fashioned camera. He sent her a video with my phone...and left a picture of the Montez mansion to tell her where he and Rico were headed."

Fio reached for a dry hand towel and drizzled the antiseptic onto it, biting her lip as she pressed it against Andre's wound. He hissed when the antiseptic touched bacterial regions of his wound. It wasn't gaping anymore. "Noni blamed herself wrongly. I... I wish I hadn't been so harsh after Papi had the attack. It wasn't her fault." There was, perhaps, some guilt heavily laden in her voice. "Then what happened? You two went after Reggie, right? To find Rico?"

He wouldn't give her too many details. It was still very hard for him. Very, very hard. He was surprised he'd gotten this far. "She went alone...Drove me to Esteban. I stayed there...until I figured out what..she wanted to do. Then, I called a car...And went after her."

Everything was starting to come together. She'd found out various details from Tam and Esteban; what Andre was telling her here was enough to paint a picture that was nearly clear enough to understand. A topical ointment was rubbed lightly on the outside of the wound and then she reached for the gauze and tape. Andre reluctantly outstretched his arm to for her to make the necessary journeys around his underarm and back to his actual shoulder. He let out a small grunt or two, but it was hardly noticeable and did his best to suppress it before her. Her face was void of emotion while her brother went on, though her stomach was in knots as the story came together. Finally, she spoke. "Somehow Tamara was there with you. And you two were there when Reggie... killed her. How did you get shot? I know how it happened for Noni, but what happened with Rico?"

"...I managed to get to them before Noir..I saw parts of Rico around the house...and...other things. I ran in, and Noir was about to shoot her. But, when I came, he shot me instead." He had numerous pauses and several times in his explanation did his voice waver. His eyes gained a glassy film and he looked up to the sky at random times. He tried to use gravity to keep the tears away. It was working weakly.

"It's not your fault, you know. It's... it's no one's fault. Noni knew better than to deal with Reggie herself. Especially after what he did to Papi. This was her choice. You can't beat yourself up over this, Andre." Long fingers smoothed themselves lightly over the generously gauzed and padded masterpiece she'd created. Slippers zipped quietly on the stone floor of the balcony as she shuffled behind him to help put his sling back on. His arm was carefully bent to his torso, lowering his head for the sling to hoist his arm and cradle it there.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you more, Andre. I spread myself too thin at times and don't know how to retract. I've been worried about you. And with what happened to Papi..." it was her turn to glance toward the sky. "I'm worried. But we can't shut each other out. I need... I need you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

At her reassurances, he looked down to the ground, tears turning into crystal falling beads. His arm was situated. Shutting his eyes tightly, he stood. In a blur of a hasty shift, he made great speed. It was urgent. Needy. He turned to use his uninjured arm to go around his bare-shouldered older sister. He was now before her on the balcony, hoping to somehow achieve an embrace. It was hard with one arm, but hearing words of affection from someone he was accustomed with receiving resentment had him dash at the chance. He needed another loved one's comfort. A piano was no comfort at all. Nor was a floating candle. She took responsibility. And admitted...that she wasn't the superhero she made herself out to be. It was a beautiful disclaimer. A relief to him. She saw the humanity in his older sister for the first time in a long, long time. "Yo la pierdo, Fio..."

"No, no..." her voice shook as she clung to him. "She's been lost for a long, long time, Andre. We were never going to get her back. She's with her brother now.. and that's where she's always wanted to be." Their tears mingled together as Fio pressed her cheek against his. "We need to stay strong and figure out what to do for her sake." Lips pressed his cheek where hers had been moments before. "Te amo, hermano. Nos pondremos a trav?s de este."

Andre was weakened with tears, little brother reaching out to the older sister. Yet, the older sister had reached out to him first with a confession to past mistakes. The two siblings were coming together. "You're right...You're right, Fio..." He began to even his own breathing, accustomed to crying after so many days of doing it alone.

Her hand reached up to pet his hair, smoothing it soothingly as they embraced. When the emotions began to calm and tears began to cease she pulled away. "Oh, look at us." A strangled laugh escaped her. "Crying like little children." She reached up to wipe at his face and then at hers. "You should sleep now. It's late and we both need some rest."

"I started it..." He let out a broken laugh, sniffling himself. "...Like always, Fio. You're always right..." He admitted. But unlike those other times, he wasn't saying it in dread. Or disgust. Or resentment. There was a fondness there. An attachment that had been forgotten for over a decade. "..Thank you for changing my bandage, I was always such a bore for that poor nurse.."

Nostrils flared in attempts to hide the smirk that was threatening to emerge. "I suppose I should just fire her and hire a male nurse." Fio moved to pack up the kit she'd brought with her. The water in the bowl was dumped over the side of the balcony and the porcelain was cradled against her chest. "But that would just be too much fun for you and we certainly can't have that." An uppity expression washed over her face as she turned from him and led the way back into the bedroom. "You'll have to suffer through your meetings with poor Talina. She'll never know the way she fawns over you and pretends to drop things next to you so she can bend over won't make you take her into your bed."