Perfect days made of glass were so hard to find and so easy to break but the twenty-sixth of July proved to be just that. Crystal clear and burning with a sweltering heat capable of reducing all in its wake to fractals, puddles, shades of what they were before. It hit nearly ninety but between Adelaide and Romeo it was closer to one hundred and five. Birthdays came but once a year and she was insistent upon making the day special for the platinum mopped man, no matter the cost. She stole him away from work with a little help from Delia at the diner and a favor (or was it threat?) called in to the guys at the gym.

No matter the cost.

The sun set but their heat didn?t end with the day. There was a matter of unwrapping presents of course. Blue paper, a shade lighter than her eyes but darker than his, wrapped several different sized boxes. The present he was most excited about was wrapped in black though, lace and mesh with just the sort of strips of fabric best suited to hasty removal with one?s teeth. She made him wait for that though, at least long enough to open the others.

A package of Jolly Rancher candies.

A watch.

A newly sharpened knife.

A heavy leather jacket.

A pile of arcade tokens.

A zippo that would never run out of fluid, etched in black with five words.

RO, HAPPY B-DAY. LOVE, ADDIE

He fawned over it all, the lighter in particular. Strike, snap, strike, snap. The flame lived and died repeatedly before he set it aside next to the box of pizza that had been their dinner. It didn?t take Ro long to unwrap his remaining present and he didn?t even wait until they were in the bedroom to do so.

For all intents and purposes the day had been perfect.

So when the sun rose on the twenty-seventh of July, she could only hope to ride the high of the day before through what would assuredly be a day that was anything but good.

It took some jostling and inappropriate groping for Jamie to find Addie?s keys and he was less than pleased when he reached the door to find that they hadn?t been needed to begin with. The door was unlocked and though they had been tempted to leave her outside of it, a few moments of listening ensured it was empty instead. Cracking the door open, the trio bumped and tumbled through the doorway until they could shut it behind them.

?Where do we put her?? One of the men asked. Jamie or Seb, Addie wouldn?t have known any better had she been conscious. But she was dead weight in their arms, all limp limbs and blue lips, her head lolling to one side as they debated.

?Bedroom?? The other answered.

?Nah, I don?t want this chick dyin? on my hands. Put ?er somewhere her boyfriend?ll find her easy.? The first one decided. Her landing was less than graceful, half on and half off of the couch. Between Yuri?s half assed attempt at getting her shirt back on and her own clawing at the fabric, it was a rumpled mess, the collar stretched and broken to match the jagged rips in the front. They didn?t even take the time to button her jeans. It could have been a forensics nightmare had any of them stopped to think about it. But this was Rhydin where the Watch held no real power and people died every day while nobody batted an eye.

What was one more junkie whore?

Seb and Jamie left quickly, shutting the unlocked door behind them and leaving the unconscious girl all alone.

"S'a close one man." One confided in the other as they backtracked down the first of four flights of stairs.

"Last time I'm cleanin' up Yuri's dirty work for him." Said the other.

"Heh heh. You said that last time."

Waiting.

Who in the fuck wanted to wait at a time like this? At first, Romeo had paced. There was a lot of cussing, snarling, and more than one threat to the empty air. It was easy to get lost in the anger, to let let it fill him up, until his expletive-laden muttered tirades were interrupted by unconscious girl on his mouth. Addie moaned and stirred fitfully, drawing his attention back down to where she lay. The sight threatened to deflate his anger, though not by much.

He kissed her forehead before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her into his bedroom to lay her out on the simple, spartan twin bed. Gentle hands slowly disrobed her, peeling her out of the tight clothing and then putting her into something looser, more comfortable. It was as he was pulling the oversized t-shirt over her head that Ro noticed the red marks on her neck and shoulders. He'd given her plenty of them on better nights...

Just not tonight.

A hard stare lingered on the raised red flesh and the little pale indentations that could only have been teeth marks. But who? It wasn't as if they had been an official thing for very long and there were those times that... No. Maybe. How high had she been? Did she even know?

What was that guy's name? The one Michi and Addie helped? Yuri. That was it.

With his lips pressed firmly together in a grimacing scowl, Ro freed his phone and tapped out a quick text to Michi.

Text to Demi-Poof: Yo Mich. Addie wanted me to pick her up from Yuri's but don't have the address and I think her batterys dead now. Hook me up with the location?

His expression darkened by degrees while he awaited a response, the anger building up within him, gaining steam until he thought he would burst. Eyes of pale blue had begun to burn like molten gold and snapped back down to the phone's screen when it lit up again. Later he might have recalled a request for some dank weed and cheese poofs but it was the address before it that mattered. Another few swipes of his thumb had the phone ringing again, Ro's free hand brushing errant strands out of Addie's pale face as he waited.

"X?" The words came out of him in a barely stifled snarl. "I need you back at the apartment, anamchara. Someone hurt Addie. No. I dunno. She's here. I need you to watch over her for me. I'm gonna deal with it... and X? Thanks."

His best friend would likely pop into existence right after he stepped out of the door. Xzavier was reliable to a fault, loyal beyond belief, and the most soft-hearted guy to never have skin. Romeo dipped down to kiss the unconscious Addie one more time before turning away.

"Everything's gonna be fine. I'm gonna fix this."

At the very least her temperature had come up, inching higher and higher until a glossy sheen of sweat made her ashen skin dewy. Higher and higher, until a crease formed in her brow, a disconcerted frown catching her previously slack mouth to denote her discomfort. It was better than nothing though and so she slept, his oversized shirt like a dress on her smaller frame and Xzavier like the sentinel babysitter she never wanted.

Across town, Yuri was far more restful. After the commotion had died down and everyone had cleared out, he'd kept a prize for himself in the form of the strung out redhead that Addie hadn't had the presence of mind to warn away. His Old Temple apartment was the picture of serene innocence. Much like the rumor that Disneyworld made paramedics take dead people out of the park before declaring them dead, Yuri made sure that no matter how high anyone got that they were allowed to languish within his domain. There was less responsibility that way. Less mess.

Addie wasn't supposed to be a mess for him. It was unfortunate really. She had been a sweet girl when they had met at the pizza shop. Shy, innocent, far too easily molded by the promise of a better life. She wanted to do better, be better, get ahead in any way that she could. Offering her the chance to do just that wasn't supposed to turn into having her hauled out like any other faceless addict. He almost felt bad. Almost. It was unfortunate but that was life. And life dictated that he lock his apartment up tight and pass out with a pretty little redhead in his bed.

Outside of the Hollows, Romeo had years of mastering the art of keeping a low profile. In a magical city filled with distractions, all you needed to do was keep your hood up and your head down. He had done just that, snatching a hoodie before he had departed and wearing it like unobtrusive armor as he slipped through the dark side streets of West End and then beyond. Beneath that cheap fabric veil, no one could seem his stewing, silently working himself back up all over again.

He found himself staring hard-eyed at the dealer's apartment door, as if the intensity of his gaze would be enough to melt the heavy portal and whatever lay beyond. Ro had secrets, but he didn't have that secret. Each deep breath loosed a purring rumble, a subtle reminder to himself that he wasn't entirely normal, but there was nothing endearing about the sound. Reasonable thought was quickly becoming a memory when the heel of his fist slammed thrice against the door.

"YURI!"

No matter the large number of unfamiliar faces that came and went from the second story apartment, Yuri prided himself in maintaining something resembling a respectable establishment. It was quiet more often than not, seldom drawing attention from the neighbors. And here was this asshole, about to mess that all up. Caught wholly off guard by the sudden thunder at the front door, he sat upright and blinked sleep from his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and fumbling through his nightstand for something. A soft shhk indicated he'd flipped the switchblade open on the first try. With that in hand, he padded out into the living room and to the front door. Without answering out loud, he leaned to check the peep hole first. He didn't recognize the man, so he unlocked two of the three locks and left the slide chain in place as he pulled it open. It jerked to a stop at the chain's length. His knife hand was out of view behind the door.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asked, not entirely awake.

Thick of body as he was, precious few would have thought the young platinum haired man capable of such great feats of strength, but when his sneakered foot connected with the slightly opened door, it was with the force of an irritated draft horse. The door snapped from its hinges and flew backwards, leaving Ro standing at the frame with balled up fists and a terrifying look.

The sudden implosion of the door was enough to send Yuri stumbling back a few steps. Whatever was left of the door's chain dangled lamely against the door frame, a mockery of the failed attempt at keeping the unfamiliar man out. His grip tightened on the switchblade and he took a few steps further back, putting plenty of distance between himself and furious man. He didn't look like the normal sort of tweaker that would bust into a dealer's house on a bender looking for another fix. But he was a threat just the same, so Yuri repeated himself.

"I said who the fuck are you. Y' better not be bringing me trouble man, you don't want that." Because he was totally in a position to make threats.

"What did you do to Addie?" The first few words came out calmly and then gradually rolled into a growl.

He stepped into the through the open doorway, the hood showing little more than the burning rage in molten gold eyes and the sneering curl of his lip. Two more steps brought him closer but kept the line of escape blocked.

"What did..." He began, a flash of recognition rolling across his expression before he smoothed his demeanor out into something far more impassive. "I dunno what you're talking about man."

The door to his bedroom cracked open and a bleary eyed girl wrapped in a sheet peeked her head out. Her hair and makeup had seen better days and her throat was lined with marks that would likely be bruises by morning. "Yuri?"

"Go back to bed, Cherry. It's nothing." He answered her with a brief glance, shooing her back to his bedroom.

"You lie," Ro snarled. "What the * did you do to her?"

He spared the sleepy-eyed redhead only the briefest of glances, but kept the bulk of his attention on the dealer. Another step advanced him closer still, fingers clenching repeatedly into fists.

"Nothin' that girl didn't already do to herself." The roll of his eyes was almost cruel in his exasperation. He pushed his free hand back through his hair, scattering straight, dark strands temporarily. Ro took a step, Yuri did too only backwards. By no definition of the word was Yuri big or imposing. Ro on the other hand, well, that was a different story. There was no fear in his gaze though, only annoyance. "Now get the **** out of my apartment before I have to make a real mess."

This was supposed to be the part where the hero monologued, getting more detailed in the questioning accusations and doing the step-by-step dance around the room as one tried to avoid the other. Except, Romeo didn't have anything else to say in the moments following Yuri's demand.

He advanced on the dealer with a purpose, any wariness over how it wall could play out melting away beneath the overwhelming desire to give in to his righteous anger. He expect a gun, a knife, or something, but didn't care. The rush came with a hard punch of the right fist and the rise of a knee following it.

The apartment was by no means large and his avenues of escape were limited by the arrangement of furniture. When the larger man rushed him, he reeled back to avoid getting clocked in the face but there was no dodging the knee that followed. He went toppling back over a plush armchair with a haphazard swing of the switchblade on a lateral course at Ro's chest level before the chair tipped with him and he ended up on his back on the floor.

The shallow slide of the knife along his ribs would be a problem later but in the heat of the moment it was worth being bloodied to catch the dealer squarely. His greater weight was used to his advantage and when Yuri fell to the floor, Ro toppled with him purposely, wide stanced and driving his knees down onto the other man's arms hard and with as much weight as he could leverage.

There was no revelation in the moment, no monologue, and no demand that he repent. The platinum haired young man didn't want an apology and the man struggling beneath him couldn't fix what was broken. Instead, blows rained down on him, vicious, hard, and without restraint. Every strike was brutal and reckless, wild as the one delivering them.

Heavy knees on thinner arms kept Yuri from lashing out with the knife again and he dropped it in favor of trying to turn away from the repetitive connection of Ro's fists with his face and body. For all of his talk, his reliance on others to handle the heavier side of his job was certainly catching up with him now. Skin gave beneath knuckles, splitting beneath his swelling eye and along his bottom lip. His nose crunched inward and blood streamed from both nostrils. His hips bucked to try and throw the man off of him.

Ro lost his balance but launched a hellish haymaker of a right as he lurched to one side, slamming into another chair. Chest heaving with effort and the emotion of the moment, he croaked out a roar, and stumbled to his feet, intent on taking the fight straight back to the other man.

It was the moment he needed. Yuri rolled the opposite direction in the wake of Ro's fist connecting with his chin one more time. He was up to his feet, albeit slowly and barely able to see through the eye that hadn't swollen shut. He dragged the back of his hand across his nose, smearing red in a garish spread of vitae across his fair skin. "Look man. I don't know who the **** you are but you're ****in' with the wrong guy. But if you leave now, that's it, we're square. I'll call it a lesson learned when it comes to ****ing with junkie cockteases."

Phrasing.

"I am a Son o' Herne the Hunter and scion of Heimdall, the Eternal Watcher."

For a moment, a piece of his childhood came to him unbidden, a sliver of an Earth that was long before he had become one of Rhy'din's many orphans. Romeo would have waxed poetic in that moment before delivering as bad a beating as the drug dealer had ever taken. But it was a notion that was ruined with cutting words that blacked out the rhyme.

And the reason.

The pretty words faded into a simple: "You are prey."

A quick left hand lashed out when he sprang after Yuri, like a great hunting cat. Clawed fingers caught the front of his shirt and hauled him into another savage punch. Then another. And another. He was pummeled like a heavy bag in the gym, repeatedly and without mercy.

If he'd have been of a mind, Yuri might have screamed. But he didn't even have the time to do that before Ro was upon him again. At the end of the day, he was only human, as vulnerable and defenseless as one could be in a place like this. And try as he might to return fire, his fists rained with only a fraction of the power that Ro's did before he had to revert to a defensive stance, his arms up and his head down. Even still he could only withstand such an assault for so long before he caved again, this time with the solid connection of a heavy fist and his temple. He withered, dropping like a brick to the floor, thud and all. It was then that a shrill shriek rang from the bedroom's doorway.

"Stop it! Stop it, you're gonna kill him!" The little redhead, all of eighteen years old if she was lucky, stood with her hands over her mouth and her green eyes wide as if she knew she shouldn't have spoke up. Yuri was just a fix, a passing fancy and a means to an end. Self preservation told her to run. Humanity and the horror of the moment kept her rooted.

Romeo held onto him, even after the beaten man's legs had given out. Surging adrenaline gave him the strength to keep the battered dealer held up to nearly eye level while that fist continued to pound like a steam-powered piston. It was only the little redheaded girl's voice that finally gave him pause, stopped there as they were in front of the apartment window, and with him finally turning a look back at her from beneath the hood.

"A beautiful light almost got extinguished tonight 'cause of him," he growled. "Still might."

For a moment, Yuri was allowed to sag in Ro's grip, dipping nearly to his knees. Molten eyes stared at the girl who didn't even seem to know that she was begging for a life.

"Never again."

Both rough hands locked onto the front of Yuri's shirt and, with all the poise of a man readying for a hammer throw in the Olympics...

Romeo MacKenzie threw the man who nearly killed Addie through the window.

If Thursday was the calm, Friday the storm made landfall.

At a time when Addie would typically be getting ready for a night out, she instead found herself surrounded by the too bright fluorescent glow of an unfamiliar bathroom. Her knuckles had long since gone white from how hard she gripped the edge of the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror. A shadow of herself stared back, a sickly tinge shading her sweat beaded skin. Her shirt, her own rather than one of Ro?s, clung to her, soaked.

?I wanna go home? I just want to go home.? It was a mantra she had repeated numerous times over the past twenty-four hours. No answer came save for the fast dying echo of her own voice. For what must have been the thirtieth time that hour, she twisted the cold tap until a heavy stream of water gushed into the basin. She cupped her hands under the faucet and bent to splash it over her face. It did little to relieve the perpetual heat that radiated off of her skin in waves though it helped stave off the nausea if only for a little bit longer.

?Please? please, please, please.? She groaned. Her legs felt like jello but that was a passing concern compared to the rapid hammering of her heart and the constant flipping of her stomach. It was everything she had gone through at Yuri?s only amplified and without the tingling high. There was no euphoric elation, no drifting delirium. Instead she was left with only the come down. For so long she had ridden high if only to avoid the lows. But there she was, sinking to the bottom of the rollercoaster?s valley without enough momentum to rise again. As she metaphorically sank, she did so literally too, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet just in time for her stomach to lose the fight against the flipping.

The only issue was that she had nothing to throw up. In fact, she hadn?t for hours. A quiet thud on the other side of the door told her that Ro had returned to his post outside, sitting watch as a stoic sentinel despite the whiplash inducing mood swings that had her subjecting him to vitriolic acid in one moment and desperate begging in the next. It was a toss up as to which it would be but she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and crawled over to the door to sit with her back to it just as the man on the other side had done.

?Please Ro??

At times, Romeo appeared stoic enough to seem heartless. His jaw was often clenched hard enough that she would have noticed the muscles standing out in her more lucid moments, tempered only by the wrinkles of concern at the corners of his eyes and the way he always looked somewhere else during the worst of her outbursts. When he spoke to her, it was often calm and reassuring, raw emotion breaking through despite his best efforts.

She screamed and she whispered. Pleaded and threatened. She was calm and then she cried. The vomiting, well... if she ever forgave him he would only hope to never have the inclination to remind her of it ever again. He brought her food and drink. Things from home. Sometimes it seemed to help. The help never lasted very long.

"You're gonna do this," he reassured her through the door, sitting against the wall and lighting another cigarette. "You just gotta hang tough. It'll get better..."

"No, no, no." She murmured as she shook her head. The motion rustled her sweat dampened hair against the door until she swept it up off of her neck to hold it high. It took a little bit of the edge off of the heat if only for a little while. Never long, much like all he tried to do for her. Her eyes burned like she wanted to cry, hardly a new occurrence as the buildup of toxic substances in her system began to work out now that they weren't being topped off regularly.

"Please, Ro. I can't do this. I can't. I just, I wanna go home. I feel awful... I can't do this..."

"If I didn't think you could, mo st?r, you wouldn't be here. You're strong. You'll see." Lady Above, if the entire situation didn't make him want to light up a joint to settle his nerves. But the pot must clean the kettle and he settled for nicotine and Badsider Broot.

Ro reached for the door again and gingerly tried it. Still locked. "Come out, Addie. Come and sit with me."

"Noooooo," she moaned the word. It had been locked for the better part of an hour. She didn't see that changing any time soon. After all, she looked (and felt) horrible, the last thing she wanted was for her newly minted boyfriend to see her such a mess. Sure, he'd seen worse but to her disjointed thoughts that hardly mattered. Sniffing back, she thunked her head against the door and tried again. "Pleeeeease Ro. I can't. I ****ing can't. You should've let me go, I can't."

The sound was enough to make him snuff the cigarette out prematurely and lean closer to the door, pressing his fingers to the door where her head had created the sound.

"Not a chance, Pizza Girl. You're gonna get through this. I'm gonna help. I'm not lettin' you quit."

She did it again a second and then a third time. Thud, thud. Dull. Her head already hurt enough, what was a little more? She didn't even realize the slow trickle of tears down her cheeks had begun.

"I. Can't. Do. This. I'm gonna unlock this door and when I do, you're gonna let me go or I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." What was she going to do? She was low on ammo, having thrown a number of empty threats at him already.

I'm going to run.

I'll scream until someone else lets me out.

We're done.

No, no, I didn't mean it.

I swear on all that is holy, I will punch you in the throat.

What did she have left? She reached up and unlocked the door but didn't open it. The soft click said enough.

"Just... please."

It was a rollercoaster, certainly.

Sadly, neither one of them was enjoying the ups or the downs.

The begging hurt worse than the threats, something more painfully sincere and penetrating his stoic demeanor with more ease. He almost gave in then. Almost. Instead he reached for the doorknob and turned, slowly opening it and reaching a hand through to her. "Come here."

The opening door had her leaning, avoidant of the hand that slipped through the gap between door and frame. He had done this, he was keeping her here. All she wanted was to get high and to sleep and to not think about everything that got her to that point. Silence, save for intermittent sniffles, reigned between them in the three minutes that she sat there before finally reaching a clammy hand for his. Her fingers curled against his palm then dropped so she could open the door further. It didn't take too much to get it open enough to slink out and into his lap, wary of the bottle and extinguished cigarette. She could smell it, tobacco and nicotine, and it made her itch. In his lap, she felt small when she was anything but, all long limbs as she was.

"I'm here. Now what?"

He was patient, even if he didn't want to be, and eventually helped her into his lap where burly arms could wrap around her slender frame. The hug she received was tight enough to steal her breath, his face pressed into the sweaty mess of her hair.

"Now you just hold on for a while, mo st?r. It'll get worse before it gets better. But it will get better. I promise. And I promise to see you through this. Whenever it's over and it gets better, you don't have to keep me around if you don't want to. For now, I'm here. You got this, Pizza Girl."

She shifted just so in his lap to sit sideways and hide her face against the crook of his neck. There she tipped a back and forth shake of protest.

"No. If it gets worse, no. This is gonna kill me. You gotta just... just... let me go." Her mouth sought the comparatively cool slope of his neck for a soft kiss and then two more. Gentle, distracting, intentionally so. "C'mon, Ro. It doesn't have to be like this..."

"I'd rather have you healthy and hate me than to watch Michi and Miz bury you." The words were adamant.

Her lips pursed as if to kiss his neck again but she paused, her brow knitting with consternation. A low growl thrummed in her chest as she pounded the heel of a closed fist against her thigh.

"Gods damn it, Romeo. They won't! Why won't you believe me? I'll be okay. I just need... I need time. I can get things under control, you just gotta trust me. Why don't you trust me?"

"You're gonna do that here, Addie." He reached up and wrap his fingers around her fist, clutching it lightly. Welcome or not, he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I know how this works. Trust ain't got nothing to do with it. It takes a little time away from everything and a little willpower."

"I don't need to get away from everything, Romeo. I've got shit to do. Commitments to keep. Doesn't that count? I've got to keep going or else it's all going to fall apart and I'm going to be back to square one." She growled lightly at the connection of his lips with the side of her pounding head, leaning to one side to draw back and look at him. "It's all going to fall apart. All of it."

"Adelaide," he traded her full name for full name. "You can't keep any commitments when you're dead. You. Almost. Died. It might not be registering now, but it will. You need to think on that. Please. You're not gonna lose anyone while getting better. In a few days, I'll even bring the rest of the Squad up here to see you. I promise."

Full named. She glowered, her glare nearly glacial in its chill. "If I'm dead then it wouldn't matter anymore, would it? It wouldn't ****ing matter because then I wouldn't have to worry about it. People would be sad for a little while and then they'd get over it. ****, album sales would probably skyrocket, the girls would be set. Artists are always more appreciated after they're gone. But, ****, seriously. It was a one time thing, it won't happen again."

"And the next time it'll be different. Not like it would happen this way again, but still. You're an addict. You're gonna make every promise possible until I let you walk out that door. Then it starts all over again. You wanna ****in' hate me, fine. You can hate me when you've got a clear head and can make that decision without clouded judgement." He combed his fingers through her hair. "Michi and Miz would be wrecked if you were gone."

"It will be different. I'll tell Yuri I'm done. That me and Mich aren't runnin' for him anymore. Done. And after that, it'll be just weed and... beer. And that stuff so I can sleep. Nnnnngh, why didn't you grab that? You're torturing me. I'm ****ed up, sure, but who isn't in this place, you included." He knew all her weak spots, both physically and emotionally and he nailed her with the one two punch of raking his fingers through her hair and bringing up two of the only people in the entire city that still mattered to her. Addie closed her eyes and gently shook her head. "No. People come and go so often here. You get used to it."

"You're more memorable than that." He squeezed her again, trying in vain to offer her some measure of reassurance. "Especially to them. And to me. You should get used to that. Being held in that high a regard."

His voice lowered. "You've got people who would risk everything for you."

"Am I? Am I really? Kane forgot about me." Her eyes reopened and she pinned him with a pitiful look. The weight of the past six months had caught up, culminating at last with a Hail Mary of self destruction. Would she sink or would she swim, she wasn't sure. "Eight years, Ro. Every single day, we saw each other. Two years of it was more... than what it should have been. And then I tell him I can't do it anymore and that's that. No argument, no fight, nothing. His commitment to me was fulfilled the day I turned eighteen and once I cut him loose, he had no reason to try anymore. He would have died for me if it came down to it. He killed for me."

Her shoulders rocked with a silent sob, the sort that rattles the soul but is too heavy to rise through the vocal cords. She shook her head. "You'll see it eventually. The Princess is worthy of naught."

"Just hold on, Pizza Girl." He said it again. "Things'll get better. They have to. Just gotta believe it. The Lady's ways are mysterious but she protects her own. Kane may not be here, but I am."

She self-destructed and he just held on. In the absence of her anger, he didn't know what else to do.

"Would you stop calling me that? I'm not that damn Pizza Girl anymore. She's the one who got me into all of this anyways. Stupid, naive, idealistic little girl." Like clockwork, she cycled back around once more to where it all began. The torrential downpour of sadness gave way to a flood of annoyance and bitter, acidic anger. It was an exhausting pattern that had her wilting even as she spat her vitriol.

"And you're being naive and idealistic too with your the Lady's ways are mysterious but she protects her own ****. I don't know this Lady and she sure as **** doesn't know me. We live in a land of gods and monsters and you wanna feed me that bull****? If I wanted a ridiculous trip, I'd hit Yuri up."

"Then you might wanna take a Ouija board over to his apartment and give a go where they scraped him off the ****in' pavement." The words came out with a hard edge that was rare for Romeo.

"Maybe I would if--," halfway through the sentence his words registered with her addled mind. Even still they didn't make sense. She rocked back to stare at him from further away, her eyes wide. Half delirious as she was, she was certain that the connections being made in her head were incorrect.

No.

"What did you do, Ro?"

"He almost raped you, mo st?r. He came really close to killin' you. And then he left you like last night's garbage." He looked towards his bedroom window and the darkness outside. In the moment, in mirrored something inside of him. "He'll never do either to anyone again."

Addie was going to be sick again.

Just as requested, he got out. He stayed out at least until her screams jerked him awake from a restless sleep sometime around three in the morning on Sunday. Ro came bursting through the door, ready for the worst. Instead, he found her tangled in the sheets, drenched with sweat, and thrashing through the depths of a nightmare. Careful to avoid the kicking of legs, he unwound the tightly wrapped sheet and perched on the edge of bed where he stroked her hair from her forehead. Heat radiated off of her in waves, far warmer than even her typically elevated temperature and his cool touch soothed her only momentarily before her brow crinkled and she whimpered.

?Shh, shh, shhhhh,? he intoned, climbing further into the bed and carefully scooping her up. She could be angry with him in the morning, he was getting good at weathering her ire. But his grasp seemed to calm her so he held her tightly until the night terror passed. As she finally settled, she shook her head back and forth, a slow loll that had her cheek coming to rest against his chest. Her lips moved but the words that came were so soft he almost missed them.

?Get him out of here. Get us out,? she mumbled. Ro frowned. She still didn?t want him there but she wasn?t fighting him. He kept her close, tilting his head back against the wall as he sighed. ?Who did you bring with you, Sandy??

Just as quickly, Ro?s chin dropped for a curious look down at the girl. It must have been some dream.

When the sun came up Sunday morning, Addie awoke to no sign of Ro save for a stuffed lion tucked under her arm. The soft fabric and squishy body of the plush beast set her off immediately. But rather than scream or yell, she cried.

Sunday was a crying day.

Ro preferred the yelling days.

They were easier.

No one wanted to live there. It was rare that the notions of want and extenuating circumstances found a common ground.

Pushed back into one of the less traveled corners of West End, the big apartment build loomed like a shadow, devouring more light than it emitted and begging comparisons to by the knowledgeable and hip to Chicago's famed Cabrini Green had it been so envisioned by horror's own Clive Barker. There were more windows boarded up than broken, and more broken than intact. When the light of day touched its walls, it was cast in stained concrete and faded paint, and still managed to be a step up from the pooled, hungry shadows of night. It had a haunted quality to it and would have appeared mostly abandoned if not for the wall around it.

Junked cars and stolen/scavenged dumpsters had been stacked and pushed together, welded in places for added strength, and topped by old pallets providing stability for those who walked the top. Wraiths in their own right, Rhy'din's forgotten children walked the walls ringing the Hollows, often in drab, dirty clothing and bearing a wide variety of pilfered or homemade weaponry. Some of their faces could be seen in the flickering lights atop the great wall, souls burned down but determined, sometimes bored but always wary. Their positioning was confusing and led more than one curious passerby to wander if they were trying to keep something out... or in.

The sign outside the gate had been broken and weathered around the edges, the 'a' in Hallows long since painted over and replaced with an 'o'.

Romeo was sitting quietly on the steps, checking the time on his phone between short conversations with some of the residents who lingered near the door.

The address he'd been been given by Ro' was familiar enough to influence how the Cajun dressed. Nothing about him stood out: black on dark on black, with untied boots and a grey backpack slung over one shoulder. He had his hair covered with a black bandana rather than the usual white ballcap he favored. Upon approach, he affected an air of belonging, cool and casual as he made his way toward Romeo on the steps.

He was on his feet the moment he spotted Cane, turning his head to briefly murmur something to one of the lurkers before he bumped knuckles with the young man. His attention was on the Cajun again then, even as he pushed open one of the heavy doors.

"Thanks again," he told the Cajun with the faint offer of a smile. "Not much farther."

The worry lines on his forehead lent some small amount of credence to the urgency as the wayward Ro was leading the new arrival down a long haul. It was a slum, of that there was no real denial, but even as they made turns and ascended to higher floors, much of the filth seemed to have been scrubbed away, with signs of thriving life (more or less) showing in the random pockets of humanity found.

They were somewhere at the building's heart when Romeo shouldered open the door and stepped aside, revealing to Cane a modest but very well kept apartment. He pointed towards a closed bedroom. "She's in there. Might wanna knock..."

Cane upnodded the unknown male politely as he followed after Ro', careful to remain aware of his surroundings as they made their way further into the building so he'd remember how to get back out without needing any help.

Inside the apartment, he let the backpack slip off his shoulder and gripped the top in a tight fist, shifting closer to the door that Romeo indicated. There was some mild surprise written across his face, shocked that he was being allowed to speak with the girl alone. But it only served as added confirmation that Addie hadn't told anyone anything yet.

He gave a quick nod to Romeo and stepped up close to the door, listening quietly for a moment before rapping his knuckles against the partition.

Tucked into the corner of the spartan twin bed, Addie sat with a shoulder blade to each wall of the corner and a knee drawn up toward her chest with the other leg under her. Hardly dressed for company, the non-descript white tank top, a size or two too big as it was, hung over purple pajama shorts, cinched by a drawstring knotted into an uneven bow. Paired with a stuffed lion that kept her company in the corner and a closed, sparkly notebook, it all gave an air of juvenile innocence. Like it could have been any run of the mill slumber party that she was taking part in. To keep it out of the way, she had piled her hair atop her head and wrapped it into a messy bun, but as the door rattled with a knock instead of opening, she blew a stray wisp from her eyes and lifted a curious look toward the room's only exit.

It must have been Xzavier. So polite, that skeleton guy.

"Yeah? I don't need anymore gummy bears, really."

She hadn't told him to stay out, so he took it as an invitation. The door opened just wide enough for Cane to slip inside, saying as he did so, "I make those too, ya know."

"Uhhhhhhh..." Profound, wasn't she? Addie leaned a little as if to look for Ro, the confusion readily evident in the tug of her brows and the squinting of shadow darkened eyes. All the while, her thumb and index finger came together against the soft skin of her opposite forearm, pinching to the point that her nails left crescent moon imprints. Wake up, Addie, wake up. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

"He's gonna help," Ro called from the living room. "I hope."

"I hope," Cane repeated wryly. He gestured to the very end of the bed, silently asking if he could sit. "Heard yer havin' issues sleepin' again."

"I...," Ro's voice seemed to placate her, if at least temporarily. Her hands relaxed and her right slid over the journal next to her bottom set leg. After a few long moments of contemplation, she acquiesced with a bobbing nod of her head. "And you probably told Ro that the other stuff can be... habit forming. Yes?"

"If abused," he amended, but then nodded. "Yes. I did. An' if yer... gettin' clean, it's best not ta be temptin'." There was a brief pause, during which time Cane's eyes flickered to the doorway, then back to Addie as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. The backpack was placed between himself and the girl, still closed for the time being.

"He said you OD'd on some shit. Is that what actually happened?" Hazel eyes challenged her to be truthful with him; he needed to be sure that she hadn't taken more of the potion than she was supposed to.

Rubbing at his eyes, Ro put some distance between himself and the bedroom, moving into the kitchen to start a fresh pot of coffee. He heard voices but didn't focus on anything more than the tones that carried out the door when possible.

"I'm trying at least," she said, the fatigue hanging on each syllable. He sat and she shrank, leaning back against the wall and tucking her knee tighter to her chest. Until she could convince herself that this wasn't one incredibly lucid dream, distance was a safe thing. Her gaze, a glacial and dark thing, drifted to the bag between them then back up to meet the Cajun's studious expression.

"Something like that. It wasn't... it wasn't what you think. I just got in over my head and..." Her mouth went dry even though she swallowed twice to try and remedy it. Deep breath in, her eyes closed. Slow exhale out, she reopened them. "I trusted the wrong person. I fucked up."

This seemed to satisfy him, because after nodding, Cane lowered his voice to speak yet again. "He also told me that you only got into the heavy stuff 'cause ya couldn' sleep. But I'd already given ya stuff fer that." Cane let that sink in for a moment before continuing, his voice a low hum of sound. "Who is this guy? Does he know about Sandy?"

"It started that way," she confirmed, tipping her head back to look up at the ceiling for a few moments. "Yuri gave me stuff to 'help me sleep', then we started running stuff for him and it just... Gods... how did it get so bad?"

Her chin lowered and for a fraction of a moment she looked like she might cry. Another swallow tamped down the welling emotions and she steadied herself enough to answer.

"Ro's... Ro. He's my, I guess he's my boyfriend... or that is if he still wants to be after all this..." Inhale, exhale, inhale. Everything felt amplified by her lack of sleep, each emotional ebb and flow wreaking all kinds of havoc. "Sort of. The nightmares have been keeping him up too... I had to at least tell him most of it."

Yet another answer that Cane found satisfactory. It was a start at the very least. His callused hands became a subject of focus when her eyes welled up, determined to ignore the threat of tears and act like this was just a simple conversation. Frankly, he wouldn't know what to do with her if she'd started to cry.

"So--so it's the nightmares, then, that keep you awake. Not insomnia?"

"Yeah. I fall asleep fine, I just don't stay asleep." Her gaze flickered to Ro's alarm clock on his bedside table, the time a source of constant anxiety this time of night. "Then once I wake up, I can't get back to sleep because... yeah. They just feel so real."

When it sounded like she wasn't on the verge of falling apart, he looked up, gaze flickering to her face for a split second before nodding and focusing on the backpack between them. Cane scratched his jaw, then reached down to unzip the bag. "That makes this a lot easier. I can give ya dreamless sleep. It's a spell, actually. I invented a way ta put it in a piece 'a candy. You'll jes' take it like a pill. Simple as that. Spells are not addictive; not this one, anyway."

There was still a fractional chance that this was still a dream so each movement he made was watched with a certain amount of wariness, her hands curling into loose balls against her thighs. "I've never really had an issue with magic... this should be... okay. Yeah. It should..."

Something lingered on her tongue. She rolled it about and bit it back, relaxing her fingers one by one until her fists were no longer clenched. "Okay."

"If ya got some'n ta say, spit it out. I ain' a mind reader." Cane stuck a hand into the depths of the bag and pulled out a wooden box with a hinged lid that fit in the palm of his hand. He set it on the mattress, close enough for Addie to reach out and take it for herself. Inside were thirty small, green squares wrapped in clear cellophane.

"Why're you helping me?" She blurted it out at his prompting, waiting to make the grab for his offering in the event her questioning proved to prompt a change of heart. Straightening one of her legs out, she sat upright instead of slouching and levelled an even but curious look at him. "That's all I want to know."

Cane looked around her room while gathering his thoughts. Either it took him some time or he'd warred with himself over whether or not to answer at all. "Because I know what it's like ta be young an' reckless... ta make mistakes I wish--want ta take back. I know heartache an' I know pain. An' believe it or not, I try ta ease it when I can where I see it in others." There was a short pause in which time he sought her eyes with his own. "An' I think you've suffered enough."

Save for a pink and blue duffel stuffed with her clothes and the girl herself, the room lacked any sort of feminine touch. Neatly kept much like the rest of the apartment, nobody would be any wiser that she had wrecked it a few times over in the past week save for the fresh drywall patchwork over a trio of fist sized spots in one wall. It was as much a jail cell as it was a bedroom and the Hollows would likely be more than happy once she was gone.

"I wondered once," she began softly. He hadn't elaborated but it filled in blanks for her so she figured she would explain herself. "When you yelled at me about... what I did, what had hurt you badly enough to make you so angry. Because someone told me once that anger's mostly pain we don't know how to express. Man... that was a long time ago... and I'm rambling. But I thought maybe if I did my time that it'd eventually get better."

Finally she reached for the box, diverting her gaze only as long as it took to take it in one hand. "Thank yous mean so little in the grand scope of things. But thank you. I'll make the best of this chance this time."

The hard swallow was his only tell that she was on to something. More than something, though, she was right on the money. Cane glossed right over the rambling like it hadn't happened, eyes dipping down to the box. "It's nothin'. Jes'--yeah. Eat one before ya go ta sleep. If it ends up not workin', I'll... I can tailor the spell so it does. Jes' let me know."

The bed creaked softly as he stood up, scratching the back of his neck this time. "An' talk ta someone. Yer boyfriend's a good start, but... like I said." Cane gestured to the box in her hands. "This is only a bandaid. Don' ferget to address the real problem."

"It's something. To me. Probably to Ro too... he could use the sleep." Her gaze ticked toward the door, unsure of how far from the doorway the man may have been and if he could hear any of the conversation in his room.

"But I will. I have to. This just buys me the time to do it." And the clarity afforded by a decent night of uninterrupted sleep. When he rose, she scooted carefully to the bed's edge and got to her bare feet, setting the box down where she had just been sitting. "I'll grab you some cash and Ro can see you out. They're a little... weird around here."



amazing words!]]