"Toby? Why no, I haven't seen him in quite some time. A questionable one, that boy is. Do you know that he is some sort of demonic beast? Oh yes, leaped right up the church, he did. Climbed like a monkey, roaring and snarling. Would've slaughtered us all, Lord protect us. I've never seen something so terrifying in all my days.."

******

The middle aged nun bowed her head, her eyes unfocused and paying little attention to the words she was scribbling across the note paper.

'I have not seen him lately. He does not usually come to see me even if he is around. I do not like him in my library, he is curious and moves things out of place.'

******

"Toooby? Oh sure, suuure I know him. Not like I'd want to know him, if you know what I mean.. Ahh, but the church's been all dark and gloomy since he's left. He has left too, I'm sure. Haven't seen hide nor hair. I'd definitely remember if I did. The boy walks around wearing next to nothing. I'm not complaining, he definitely has the body for it.."

******

"Who are ye to be askin'? None of here are that boy's keeper. We hardly know where he roams half the time ourselves. Sorry, but ye'd be better off simply searchin'.."

******

"Oh, yes, I'd heard that he had gone missing.. But I have also heard that he's been working at the orphanage. To rebuild it, you know. Oh, he is very kind to do such a thing. Perhaps you should check there? I have the address somewhere.."

******

The general consensus was that the boy had not been seen. The Claymore traversed the streets, never taking the same path twice.

For all intents and purposes, she should have deemed him dead. He shared the same fate as Number Forty-six. A fitting demise for them both, trouble children of the Organization.

She would have done so along with her entire squad..had she not seen his face out in the open, and then felt his presence. If she wanted to, she knew that she could locate him without trouble.

But to go through such ordeals to evade the Organization.. It was a concept that she couldn't fathom let alone condone, but..she was curious as to the boy's reasons.

That curiosity, shown in the subtle curl of her pale lips, was the only thing keeping him alive.

For now.

"I don't know who you're talking about. I'm sorry, but I'm late for these deliveries. Please, excuse me."

******

The young, curly haired woman squeaked enough to be a mouse.

"T-Toby.. No, I..no. I h-haven't seen him anywh-where. Not in..in a v-very long time. H-he used to, ah..wh-who are you exactly..? Wh-why do you want to know about him..? He h-hasn't done anyth-thing. I h-have to go."

******

The first, white haired boy simply stared with his haunted eyes as if he hadn't heard. The second boy shook his head negatively.

"I don't know who you mean."

******

"I, uh..ah..I don't know him. You should really ask Sister Isabella, yeah. Yeah..you should ask her."

******

"No, I haven't seen the boy in a long while either.."

"Have I seen Toby?"

The young man threw down the tools in his hands and pushed off of the scaffold next to the highest unfinished wall of what was going to to be an orphanage. He had wanted it to be done sooner. A lot sooner. But because he and a certain someone, that had just been mentioned by name, were the only ones capable of working in such conditions, the kids weren't going to have a home for several more months.

There was a frown on his face by the time he straightened, marching over to the unknown female. His eyes went from her golden hair to her shining silver greaves and sabatons. She smiled gently, her head tilting. She reminded him of that Asian woman Zenny holed up in the church. Not that he didn't like her..it was just that expression. He felt like she was silently telling him how stupid he was.

"What's that jackass done now?"

"Done? What makes you think that he has done anything?"

He gawked at the woman. "Are you kidding me? You're lookin' for him and you don't know what he's done? What he's capable of? You're one of the members of the guard, aren't you?"

Her head tilted the other way. She blinked her silver eyes curiously. They looked familiar too, he just couldn't place where.

"Huh." He looked her up and down again, but couldn't keep his eyes away from her sword for long. It was about as big as she was. And she didn't look at all strong enough to lift it let alone wield it. "Maybe not."

"I don't understand," she said lightly. The young man could hear curiosity.

"Almost a couple months back, he killed three friends of mine. Not to mention he's a complete and utter dick. I don't give a damn what he, his demon b*tch of a girlfriend or anyone at the church says. He killed them and now he's running so he don't get caught.

"I'm not the first one you've come to, am I?"

Something had changed in the woman's face. Her eyes, which had never really been soft in the first place, looked like jagged steel..sharp and dangerous. She was watching him closely.

"No, you were not."

"Heh, yeah. Bet you've heard some wild ass stories about this so called 'good' boy, haven't you? Ohhh, he couldn't have done this or that or the other thing~ Ohhh, but you've known him for ever so long~" He scoffed. "Bullsh*t. I know what he wanted me to know, and that was squat. He doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself, so I'm just returning the favor."

The woman's jaw clenched, her shoulders rising and lowering with measured breaths. It was refreshing to see that someone else was as pissed off about hearing what Toby did as the young man was.

"I have spoken to several people..and have heard nothing of this."

He scoffed again. "'Course you haven't, everyone's trying to keep that sh*t quiet. That little demon bastard has everyone wrapped around his little finger and when he's done with them--" He flicked his pinky. The woman eyed the motion.

"These..friends of yours, the people that he killed. What were they like?"

The young man's eyebrows rose. "What were they like? They were people, good people. Leah'd just come back home from up north, they were planning a huge homecoming part for her. She was staying with Flo and Timmy, her aunt and cousin--"

"Were they," the woman's brow furrowed as she considered her phrasing. "Normal?"

He gaped at her again. "Normal? As far as I know of they were all normal, human, pure. Whatever you want to call it. They sure as hell weren't all demons.

"What does that even matter anyway? That bastard killed, you hear me, killed three people. Not just killed them, tore them to shreds, gutted them, probably with those f*cked up claws of his or something.. You asking all these questions 'cause you're gonna do something about it? 'Cause if it's to put that bastard away for a good long time, I'll help you. Hell, I'll hand him to you on a silver platter."

The woman looked back at him suddenly, her smile returning. "Yes. That is exactly why I am here. I have been investigating his whereabouts for quite some time. The information you have given me has been enlightening, to say the least."

"You've been investigating him and haven't heard about what he did? F*ck, what's wrong with you? You'd think that'd be the reason why you're doing it. Why are you in the first place?"

The woman waved her hand. "It is not of import. Did you mean when you said when you offered your help?"

"Completely. You've been checkin' up on him, you know where he goes and you've still come up short?"

She nodded.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it then." The young man drew his forearm across his brow, quirking a smile. "I'll probably get a lot further with everyone than you did. How are we doin' this?"

The woman looked up at the skeletal, half finished building behind him and nodded to it. "You will bring him here to meet with me at your convenience. I will wait."

His eyebrows rose again. "You'll wait? Geez, it's gotta be nearly zero out here. Don't you eat or sleep, honey?" He was hardly one to talk, in simple battered jeans, a muscle shirt and work boots..all old and stained.

The woman turned on her heel, her back to him, and began to march away. "That is our agreement."

Patrick huffed a heavy sigh and shook his head. The further away that woman got, the less he felt like he had to defend himself. He looked behind him at the sad excuse for a construction project and shook his head again.

He might as well get started on his 'duty.'

Afternoon, December 11th..

Toby exited the inn to a familiar voice he didn't want to hear.

"Yo. Long time, no see."

He grunted, yanking the door shut behind him. He jogged down the porch steps and angled himself around Patrick. And his bike.

"What, not even a hello, a what's up, or the ever popular 'F*ck you'?"

"What the hell do you want, Patrick." He paused, already a good distance away. He had barked the question out of habit. He didn't, really, want to hear anything his former friend had to say.

Patrick sneered. "You ain't been showing up for your job, and I've come to collect you."

"What job," he shot back over his shoulder. "I just finished delivering a bunch of crap for the church. Marlena said I could work when I wanted to and she'd pay me anyway."

Patrick was already shaking his head. "Nah. The orphanage, kid." He swung his leg over the seat of the bike, slowly pedaling down the space between them. Toby's jaw clenched tighter and tighter the closer he came. "You and I are the only ones who can go more than a half hour without running inside someplace to warm up. I've been picking up the slack for you every damn time you decided you were too important to show up. I'm sick of doing it."

Toby grunted again and turned his back on Patrick so he wouldn't have to see him catch up. He started walking again. "I never asked you to. And I bet no one else did either."

"Hey." The bike's brakes squealed, the back tire fishtailing as Patrick swung around in front of him. They stared hard at each other. "What the hell. You're just going to screw those kids over like you've screwed everyone else? They're kids, man."

"It's not them, it's you. I'm doing you enough of a favor by hearing you out and not telling you to f*ck off in the first place." He moved to stride around the front bike tire, but Patrick shoved forward, cutting him off.

"Fine then, whatever. Forget about me. But I'm not going to let you throw those kids out like garbage."

"I'm not throwing them out--"

"Refusing to go help them just 'cause you're pissed at me is throwing them out in my book, kid." Patrick cut him off smoothly..and he grunted for a third time. "They didn't ask for their home to be destroyed, and I damn well know you remember promising you'd help them. Refusing just makes you an even bigger jackass than we both already know you are. And I'm doing you a big favor by not rearranging your face right here and now."

It wasn't worth it.. The things he was mad at..they happened such a long time ago. Patrick's words to Katt, her attack on him in retaliation.. He had to listen to one person keep drawing on the past enough. He didn't want to hear himself do it.

Toby touched his forehead, rubbing soft circles. The silence had already dragged on for more than a few minutes.

"Fine," he said finally.

Patrick didn't miss a beat. "Fine. Get on."

"No."

"What?"

Toby shoved around the front bike tire, this time unhindered and started leading the way toward the orphanage's construction site.

"I can walk just fine on my own, or I can tell you to f*ck off." He heard Patrick snort, but didn't catch his last remark.

"Couldn't have asked for anything else, kid. I don't wanna get in that woman's way."

His knuckles whizzed just past the tip of Patrick's nose. In the same instant, he was doubled over, breathing through the explosion of pain in his stomach.

"That was terrible, kid," Patrick said, puffing air across his knuckles. "Though you seem to be a bit more sure and steady on your feet. But that's really the only thing you got--"

Toby's left hand shot forward, grabbing a handful of Patrick's shirt. He yanked him down and held him in place. His right fist crashed into the side of Patrick's face with a meaty thunk and a squirt of blood.

"Heh.." Patrick staggered back as Toby straightened. "Touch?." He gripped his jaw, half smiling through the pain.

"I've had enough.." he grimaced, covering his gut with his bloodstained hand. He could fake that it didn't hurt, and that it was easy to breathe. "I've had enough of you, and everyone else, thinking that it's easy for me to live with the sh*t I do, or everything that happens. I realize that I don't make it easy for anyone to see that, but still.. Do you really think I wanted to do this..?"

"You confessing something to me?" Patrick shoved the back of his hand across his mouth. "We ain't even at the church, and I ain't even a priest."

"Shut up. I'm not confessing anything. Tell me what the hell I get, what Katt gets, out of screwing with you and everyone at the church."

"How the hell should I know? Some people are like that, they're jackasses. It's hereditary or something." He spat a wad of saliva aside into the street.

"You son of a bitch.." Toby muttered, his hands balling into fists. He pushed his knuckles into his forehead. "Do you honestly believe that if I had handled anything differently, we would be any different now..?"

"The point is that you didn't, kid. Could've opened all sorts of f*cking possibilities. You didn't give any one of us a chance."

Toby growled and stormed forward, around the back tire of the bike that had been thrown down. He needed to move around. Punching Patrick had helped, but he found himself wanting to do it again. "You don't tell everyone your secrets either. Sera doesn't tell hers, Sister Matilda doesn't tell hers. You're f*cking allowed to keep things to yourself, especially if you don't want to talk about it."

"Hey, get back here." He heard Patrick marching after him. His body tensed as he moved, waiting to be grabbed. He knew he would handle it. "You seem to think this has something to do with the fact that you're some sort of demon. I couldn't give less than a sh*t about that.

"You came to the damn church walled up in your own little world and even after everything everyone there's done for you, you still dropped us all." Toby paused. "You didn't think twice about how much people cared about you. Some sh*t happened with Matilda and you just decided your time was up without any explanation. 'Cept by that time, you were a lot more human. You used us, kid. Like we were some sort of paper towel to clean up a sh*tty mess you'd made."

He didn't understand why Patrick was wanting to get through to him, or why he was taking the time to even say anything. They could have been at the orphanage six times by now.

"I didn't ask for any of it.. Sister Matilda had offered me a room and I just took her up on it. In the beginning, yeah.." he frowned as he turned to Patrick, who glowered as soon as they were face to face. "At the beginning, I used the church--"

His mouth opened, but he was silenced by Patrick's hard fist. He grunted, feeling his lips split with the pressure and shuffled back, his palm hovering before his face.

"I knew it. I f*cking knew it." Patrick's hands fisted in his shirt, he hauled Toby in a sharp circle. His head and back met the closest stone wall a moment later.

"Guh..!"

"We are not your personal tools to make yourself feel better, you bastard." He grit his teeth each time his skull smacked into the bricks because of Patrick's shakes. "We are people, we are human. We've got f*cking feelings that deserve to be respected."

"Mmph.." Toby closed his hands around Patrick's wrists, their grip steadily increasing..enough to stop the constant throttling. "I said I used the church. I did not ask to make friends. I handled things the way I did because you were my friends." Blood dribbled down his chin as he continued speaking. "From all the sh*t that's happened, I really hope that it's obvious why I didn't just tell everyone about me."

Patrick's hands suddenly unclenched. He could feel muscle fibers and tendons under his fingers, but he didn't let up on the pressure. A brief expression of pain flickered through Patrick's eyes.

He had started talking already, he might as well continue.

"Where I come from, this is how Humans act toward people like me. There are no exceptions. That's just how it is. I grew up with that, that is how I lived. I'm sorry that I wanted to avoid that part, I've got enough of all this in my own goddamned head." He shoved at Patrick's bruised wrists, forcing him away. "I didn't need it from everyone else."

Patrick stumbled back, rubbing at his arms like he had been released from shackles. Toby couldn't place his expression. One second he looked angry, then confused..and back.

"What the hell happened. Back when all this sh*t first started, when you said you were leaving the church. What happened."

Toby blinked. "Why do you want to know.. What happened to all this stuff about demons and me killing people.."

Patrick snorted, giving him an upnod. "Tell you what, kid, I'll answer yours if you answer mine."

His eyebrows drew together. He poked the tip of his tongue into the splits in his lips and wiped the blood forcefully from his chin, smearing it on his jeans.

"Sister Matilda found out, and she told me that it was a good idea if I didn't come back. But by then..I was already thinking about giving up the room, and just working."

The silence between them was heavy and thick. Toby pushed away from the wall, still testing the tenderness of his mouth.

"How did she find out. You didn't f*cking transform into that white clawed monster right in front of her, did you?"

Toby chuckled. "No." He felt weird talking..but also hopeful, he thought, somewhere deep inside him. The light sensation was foreign, it made him twitchier than he already was. He shook himself sharply. "Before I came to live there, Sister Matilda helped me with some..demon thing. I don't remember a lot of it. I was sick, she fixed it..then put this seal on my shoulder."

"That black sun tattoo? Where'd that thing go?"

"It got removed," he said scowling, first down at the ground, then up at the darkening sky. "It was supposed to keep whatever happened the first time from happening again.. I couldn't do anything, though. Not all the power I've got goes to turning me whatever I was that night."

"Seriously? Spill it."

Toby blinked again, staring incredulously over his shoulder. Despite his light tone, Patrick's eyes were still hard, his his expression still unyielding.

"For one thing, I can heal myself if anything happens to me." He licked his lips, tasting half dried copper. "The day that thing came and attacked us at the church, I got hurt and I couldn't do anything about it. So did Katt..but being what I am..it helps me handle things. I'm stronger..and faster than normal." His head shook. "With the seal there, I was useless."

Patrick stared at him long and hard. But suddenly laughed. "You're still useless even with it gone, kid."

Toby's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"So this seal got removed, and then what."

He grunted. "I couldn't control it. I half remember hitting Zenny, I would have hurt them if I didn't stop."

Patrick leveled another lengthy stare on him.

"That's really all it was?"

"A-ah..yeah. I was already planning on leaving anyway." His mouth flattened out, straining the splits. "That was just motivation."

Patrick nodded, rubbing his face from his forehead to his chin and started moving forward. Toby tensed again, his fingernails biting into his palms. Then his head rocked to the side at the open handed smack to his temple. It was far lighter than he was expecting.

"You dumbass."

He grunted, one fist lifting to the side of his head. Patrick looked like he wanted to add to more to it, but upnodded again, indicating him.

"You can heal yourself, huh? Go for it, fix your face."

"What..?"

"I didn't stutter." Patrick's arms folded over his chest. One of his eyebrows went up. "I'm waiting, kid."

"Mmph.."

"Look, I've already seen you do a lot worse, what've you got to lose now?"

Toby grunted, shaking his head in disbelief, but he couldn't help agreeing with him. He gently let go of the tight stronghold of yoki he knew was swirling around inside of him without having to feel it. A pleasant burn jittered up through his chest and settled in his mouth. The broken borders on both of his lips stretched toward one another until there was nothing but a dark red seam. Then a slightly raised mound of scar tissue, and finally just a stain where the injury had been.

Patrick gaped, his jaw hanging open. He laughed. "Holy sh*t. Boy, could I have used something like that how many years ago."

Toby chuckled nervously. He saw Patrick take another breath, his mouth parting to say something else, but a female's voice came out instead.

"How careless of you, Toby. To use your yoki when you know that you are hunted prey."

He whipped around to face the speaker and cold fear splashed through him.

The Claymore simply smiled.

His ears rang when the screaming stopped, his whole body feeling fuzzy and prickling. He leaned his face into the cold wall, his eyes lifting to Patrick's body still hanging above him. He had to get him down..and feed him something from the vial..

His head turned slowly over his shoulder as the cotton in his ears gave way to quiet hisses and sobs.

"I'm sssorry.. Ssso sssorry. What'sss happened..? Why am I.."

Her head was hanging, thick black ropes that passed for hair continuously undulating all around her skull like they were alive. She seemed to be staring at two of the six arms she now possessed; the two new pair sticking out of her ribs beneath the first. Each limb ended in large three fingered hands, tipped in talons, that were half the size of the arms they were attached to. Flawless swirls of sapphire and deep purple covered a body that was a woman's from the waist up, but her legs had merged into one giant, smooth tail that reminded him of a snake's, its tip twitching to and fro.

"Help me..!" The words echoed in two tones, one he recognized as the Claymore's earlier voice, the lower of the two a raspy hiss. Her face was flat and smooth, without the definition of a nose and mouth. She held out all six arms in earnest, clawed fingers spreading.

His heart clenched tightly in his chest. He had only ever met one other awakened being..and she didn't seem anything like Tylor..

"HELP ME!!" she shrieked. The tendrils of her hair shot forward, stretching easily through the distance between them. Chunks of brick exploded all around him with the impact, meaty thunks where they sunk into Patrick's suspended body. Pain wrenched through his right shoulder, left arm and side. He yelped as he flew back through the air alongside Patrick as they were both torn free of the wall, crashing down into the ground. He felt the tendrils stuck in his body tense and pull, dragging them across the street back toward their owner.

"What hasss happened?! Why do I hunger for flesh?! To rend it to ribbonsss and feassst upon the innardsss it hidesss, to gorge myssself until sssated, why?!"

The tip of the claymore sword scraped across each stone they passed over. He shouted in frustration through his grit teeth, both of his hands fighting to get to his back. He needed to cut them free first.

"Thossse thingsss are only felt by monssstersss, and I--" His hand closed around the handle of his dagger, he pulled it free, slicing blindly at the tendril stuck in his side. She howled in response and flung him aside. Each tendril jerked free of him as he rolled end over end. The sound of the scraping sword got further and further away.

"A dead morsssel? Thisss will not do. What isss.." Toby flopped onto his stomach, groggily lifting his head to see her grasp the hilt of her own sword with her three left hands. She yanked it free, a fountain of crimson spraying in an arc from Patrick's chest as he fell back to the street.

"Thisss isss familiar, thisss.." Her golden eyes blinked, she twisted the sword around. She brought it to her flat nose, sniffing and slurping the blood from it. Toby inched along the ground on his elbows, his eyes on Patrick's unnaturally lumped up body. He knew that he could run if he tried, the church wasn't that far away. Zenny had said she'd done something to it to make it safer..

"Thisss wasss mine. My sssword."

His hand clenched painfully around his dagger. He couldn't fight her, his best chance was getting away.

"RAAAH!!"

"Guh..!" He flattened himself to the ground, feeling the air whistle above him as she flung the sword aside. He peeked up through his hair, watching her eye her massive, clawed hands..all six of them.

"I have..they will be coming for me, I mussst--!!" She turned and slithered, the smooth way she moved and the wet hiss of scales against the ground made his stomach turn. He bit down on his lips, his eyes squeezing shut as her speed carried her directly over his back. Her weight briefly pinned him to the cobblestones, the air leaving his lungs in a rush.

Then she was gone.

Silence blanketed him. It felt too thick and eerie, like he was in a cemetery rather than the middle of a street. His right eye peeled open..as Patrick slipped onto his back, and coughed weakly.

He wasn't conscious of the dead weight in his arms when he straight shot kicked the doors to the church wide open. The momentary bright flash of blue light seared his eyes. He stepped up to the threshold and stopped, looking down the center of the nave at the brilliant decorations inside. It looked warm and inviting. He could smell food cooking and baking in the kitchen. But now that he was here he couldn't make himself go in. He didn't want to have the inevitable conversations, he didn't want questions.

He didn't want to let go of his friend.

"What's this ruckus at this hour?" And he definitely didn't want to deal with Agatha. "Blasting the doors to the Lord's house open, how dare you show such--Mary, Mother of God."

He gulped until he gagged. "You've got to get Sister Matilda.."

"Patrick, boy, is that you?" The old nun rushed toward him and laid a hand on Patrick's cold forehead. Her gasp seemed fake to him. "What in Heaven's name happened to him? To the both of you?" She looked up at him and her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything.."

"Do not lie to me, boy, you may not be in the Lord's house right now, but you are on His steps and He is always listening in."

"I didn't do anything!!" he shouted, straining his throat.

"A-Agatha, what's g-going on..?" His insides froze.

Agatha whipped around so quickly, her black clothing flared out behind her. "Child, I'm afraid I have some terrible news. Patrick is--"

Sera's curly blond head popped out from around the side of the door frame, followed by the rest of her. She looked from Agatha, to Toby..to Patrick's blood body in his arms. Her green eyes went wide, the cookie and glass of milk slipping from her small hands.

"No.. N-no. Tell me..t-tell me that it's not true. Tell me.." She staggered forward, even against Agatha's arms.

"Child, calm yourself, we've not even received a full explanation."

"Tell me.. Tell me..! TELL ME IT'S NOT TRUE, TELL ME!!"

Sera lunged forward, taking Agatha with her. Each scream was like a lance through his head and chest. He felt his knees getting weaker. He wouldn't ever get that sound out of his head, wouldn't forget her small face damp with tears and twisted in pain as she screeched, trying to fight her way to him.

Figures poured into the nave, dressed in black. He heard voices, questions being asked, his name being repeated. Shouts, bellows, sobs. The words filthy, demon and bastard.

"Toby, what happened?!"

"Good God, what did he do?"

"Is he turning on us?"

"You killed him!!"

"TELL ME!!"

He was pulled one way, then the other. He stumbled against people. His arms tightened around Patrick as someone tried to take his body.

"Answer me, lad, what happened."

"Don't let him inside, he could snap at any moment."

"We're safe as long as we stay inside these walls."

"You bastard!!"

"TELL ME!! HE'S NOT DEAD, TELL ME HE'S NOT DEAD!!"

"ENOUGH!!"

The latest voice was like a crack of thunder, echoing, cutting through everything else that he heard. Several head turned in unison, the nuns parted to give room to the newest figure. Zenny's mouth was set in a firm line, her blue eyes flashed as they zipped from one face to the other, to Toby's then down to Patrick's.

"Agatha, Margaret, Erica, take Sera to her room immediately. Matilda, take Patrick's body to his own room, then oversee their progress with Sera. The rest of you, go back inside, and be silent."

No one moved.

"Now." The air around them shuddered.

"Lad, Toby, ye need to give him to me. That's it, there we go." His arms fell to his sides once they were free. His knees buckled. He fell against Zenny who had rushed forward to catch him.

The wave of black clothed nuns receded, the doors closing with a thud. He could still hear Sera screaming fuzzily through them.