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Main Thread; The story goes here.
Topic Started: Jun 24 2017, 12:30 PM (1,423 Views)
Daniel
Administrator
[ *  *  * ]
First post by Daniel

Second post by Jordan

Trades off from there.

[Overture: The Secret World OST - "The Secret World"]

Wind whipped through the snow-capped mountains of the ancestral home of Norsemen. Owen stood upon the highest ridge in the range as a storm began to roll in from the distance, watching the edge of the forest for the horde of demons that marched towards the sacred Hrothmund’s Barrow to appear. Every last second of his existence from the moment his sister had been taken had been building to this very moment. Every shred of power he had gathered, every scar that marred his flesh, and every piece of his shattered soul he’d left behind had been his payment. Owen had earned this day, and nothing would keep him from it.

He had spent the better part of a week up in these mountains, slogging through miles of snowy, deciduous forest to find the sacred burial site of his ancestors. It was almost impossible to find from the ground level, but from his current perspective Owen could see the massive stones arrayed into the shape of a wolf’s head with a missing eye. It was the remaining eye that served as the entrance to the sepulcher, and Owen finally discovered the real reason his sister had been abducted.

The door had recognized him. It was a place that recognized the lineage of Owen’s family, and would permit no others. Therefore they had to have his sister alive in order to get inside the Barrow. He knew where the enemy would be, and he knew the most likely path they would take to get there. The only thing Owen didn’t know was how many of them there would be, and the state his sister would be in. Those two variables terrified him, but he was too close to stop now.

Up ahead, emerging from the darkness of the forest to start their trek out onto the plain were the two dozen demonic figures on horseback. Thick armor covered them from head to toe, and they were arrayed in ranks of six with an opening of ten feet between the two columns. Their formation changed upon leaving the woods, however, and they created a barrier around a group of four directly in the center. Two wore matching armor different from the rest, while the third stood out most of all in his dragon-styled metal suit.

None of them interested Owen as much as the fourth, which was simply a shape wrapped in blankets that covered everything but the chain linking her to the dragon’s wrist. The mage felt his blood boil, the heat rising in his neck as his stomach clenched in anticipation. It was her, and every last one of them believed they were the only ones there. A thick cloud of swirling snow obscured him from their vision, and it was under this cover that Owen made his way down off of the ridge.

~*~

Despite the below-freezing temperatures, Rachael did not shiver against the cold. It was not the blankets that kept her warm so much as her own supernatural nature made her immune to cold entirely. The blankets were merely to keep her from being buried in snow, not that any of that would matter once they reached the Barrow. Her years in slavery had been survived with the hope that her family would come for her, that there would be a day when she watched the evil around her butchered to secure her freedom.

That day never came, and now she silently rode towards her own doom. Despite believing with every fiber of her being that rescue would come just in time to prevent the next horrifyingly traumatic event in her life, she now understood that it would never arrive. No matter how powerless her position had been, Rachael had always made attempts to earn her own liberty where prudent. Unfortunately all she ever earned from it was more torture, but at least once they were through with her the abuse would end. Rachael would finally be allowed to die, and despite barely breaking a quarter century she was as ready as an Antediluvian vampire for her final rest.

[Background Music: Red vs. Blue Revelation OST "Prelude" - Jeff Williams]

The storm sweeping in didn’t even phase her at this point, so deadened physically and emotionally to the material world as she was. Her violet eyes scanned the frozen landscape, more out of natural instinct than any real curiosity. Because her vision was far superior to that of even most demons, she was able to spot a lone figure in the distance emerging from behind one of the massive stones that marked the barrow’s location. A chain reaction set off in the woman’s brain, which began to swirl with questions and possibilities she had never before imagined.

Was this some new master to which she was being delivered? Was the transfer of power not, as she imagined, to her current master Gravius and instead to this new person? Would she still be allowed to die once it was completed, or would a new hell begin when it was over?

One of the horses nickered, picking up on the stranger in the distance just after she did. Rachael continued to stare directly at the silhouette as the group approached, and it took another hundred feet before anyone else reacted to its presence. The wind howled, picking up speed to the point even a shout would be carried away before it was heard. It was in the heart of this maelstrom that the halt was called.

For a long time, nothing happened. Rachael could feel the tension in her chain leash, and realized it was apprehension she was detecting from her master. A deep sense of dread settled in the pit of Rachael’s stomach. Demons didn’t fear their enemies. Gravius seemed to shift a little in his saddle, regarding the shape with a great deal of anxiety from beneath his helmet. Small clouds of vapor rose from the breath of the army like dozens of chimney stacks in a tightly-packed suburb as they waited for their orders.

“GRAVIUS!”

The figure’s voice was deep, booming, and authoritative as it shook the air all about them. The name of her master was drawn out on the last syllable, twisting into an angry declaration. For the first time, Rachael swore she saw fear in her master’s eyes. Gravius looked back and forth at his men before turning his gaze on Rachael. A snarl curled his upper lip and he gripped her chain and roughly yanked her towards him. His voice was like venom and rustling leaves as he brought his lips to her ear.

“It looks like someone came to die with you.”

He shoved her away with enough force that Rachael had to grab the saddle horn to keep from being thrown off of her horse. Her throat stung from the way the metal had dug into her flesh, and she was very quickly forced back into the compartmentalized place that had kept her sane all of these years. Despite shutting down, Rachael did not shut off, and kept her eyes on the being as it began stalking towards the arrayed ranks of demons.

At first she thought the person might just be insane, but as they got closer she realized they weren’t alone. Draugr stepped through the wall of swirling snow and ice behind the figure, carrying axes and swords of both the two and one-handed variety. Due to the extremely low temperatures and the protection of the caves below them, their bodies were preserved well enough that most still had muscle attached to their bone. Many even wore armor and helmets, and a few carried shields emblazoned with a crest she couldn’t quite make out. Whereas most zombies were vacant beings that simply followed their master’s command, Draugr relied on the souls of dead heroes to be called back into their physical form.

Rachael suddenly realized that she was probably looking at her very own ancestors come back from the dead, and that the figure leading their march must be the one responsible. There was no one in her family she knew of that could control the dead, and Draugr usually only answered the call of blood. Suddenly, almost as soon as they had stepped through the wind wall the undead broke into a full run. They made no sound, no call to battle other than the softened impact of their boots in the snow.

The entire scene was unsettling, with a dozen undead Norse heroes charging into the ranks of demons on horseback. Gravius seemed frozen in place, unable to shout orders to his guards in the face of such an unexpected turn. At the bottom of the ridge, the figure and his Draugr came to a complete stop, simply blocking the path to the barrow’s entrance. The horses snorted their displeasure as unsteady hands tried to keep them in line, and for several moments there seemed to be complete quiet.

Then the figure pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing a visage Rachael had given up any hope of ever seeing again. It should have been a dream, but there Owen stood. Too confused and strained to really make heads or tails of anything in that moment, Rachael could have seemed as though she didn’t even know who he was. However, in her heart of hearts she was silently screaming for him to get as far away as he could, that she was no longer worth saving anymore.

“You have something that belongs to me, Gravius. I promise if you give her back now, I’ll make your death quick,” her brother said as the winds died down.

“So you finally found her,” Gravius replied with a snort of derision. “And here I thought Sadrith Mora would kill you.”

“Hand her over!”

“You followed my trail of bread crumbs quite admirably once you got the hang of things, I must admit,” her captor continued. “But I knew you would be here. I was counting on it. See, having either one of you means I can drain the Barrow completely of its power. Even your Draugr will bend knee to me.”

“By the time this is over, she will be the one to kill you,” Owen replied, pointing at Gravius.

“Collar him!” Gravius ordered.

[Background Music: "Boss Battle" Red vs. Blue Revelations OST - Jeff Williams]

Everyone but the two flanking Gravius and Rachael as guards kicked their horses into a full gallop towards the enemy. At the same time, the Draugr resumed their charge. Despite being horribly outnumbered, they sprinted full tilt towards the demonic riders with the bravery of their living selves. Owen soon disappeared in their midst, and within seconds the two sides clashed in an angry furball. Draugr leaped into the air, bringing their weapons down upon the riders and landing on their saddles in a vicious but efficient display of violence. The white snow was soon drenched in the warm blood of the combatants as it spilled from their bodies.

Rachael was expressionless as she watched the carnage unfold, but the fight quickly became so obscured by the flying snow that it was impossible to tell which side was winning. As abruptly as he’d vanished, Owen suddenly appeared on the other side of the entanglement. Her brother had somehow managed to slip past the entire engagement, and now only faced Gravius and his honor guard. The two men flanking them immediately spurred their horses forward to engage, but rather than unsheathe a weapon, Owen reached into his belt and withdrew a small detonator.

With a flick of his thumb Owen popped the safety that kept the button from being accidentally pressed, then promptly clicked it and held down. The ground just in front of the riders glowed red briefly in a semi-circle before an explosion threw up chunks of rock and snow in every direction. As much as it pained Owen to do it, he had a much better chance of survival with the horses dead or incapacitated.

The two bodyguards were flung from their crippled mounts and tossed several feet away, and neither was quick to get up. Owen wasted no time, dropping the detonator and ducking behind the cover of one of the crystalline formations nearby that was simply snow packed into solid icy rock. Rachael watched him blast open one side of it with another handheld switch before he reached in to withdraw a pair of high-powered assault rifles.

As her brother squeezed both triggers, one rifle opened up with full automatic fire while the second unleashed three round bursts at his enemy. His target managed to roll behind a rock for cover, while the other got to his feet and charged the mage’s back at a dead run. Owen turned just in time to intercept the first punch, but the second caught him in the wrist and forced him to drop the full auto rifle. It spun away and slid along the snow before disappearing from view, but Owen was too busy bringing the stock of his remaining firearm into the other man’s jaw to care.

This only phased his opponent for a moment, but allowed Owen enough balance to dodge the counterpunch. He grabbed the demon’s wrist as it went by and yanked with a deft twist, causing the man’s momentum to carry him into a full flip over Owen’s hip which ripped the shoulder out of socket. Before the demon could hit the ground, the Moros planted a hard boot directly into his adversary’s solar plexus to send him skidding several feet away.

The second was just hauling himself to his feet and coming out from around his cover when Owen returned his attention to him. Without missing a beat, Owen took two steps to the right as another detonator appeared in his left hand. He didn’t hesitate in depressing the button, causing the ground he’d just stepped away from to erupt sequentially in a near perfect circle. Chunks of the mountain were thrown into the air along with the light machine gun Owen had buried there. He reached into the flying dirt and debris to snatch the minigun clean out of the air, bringing it around to bear on the demon currently charging him while already squeezing the trigger.

Barrels spun with a whine as the weapon warmed up quickly despite the cold, and within a few short beats its report began to fill the air as it sprayed high-caliber death at his enemy. Realizing his position, the other man wisely changed course and quickly dove behind another boulder. Unfortunately for Owen the weapon quickly drained its ammo due to the high rate of fire, but not until he had torn significant chunks out of his enemy’s cover. Owen discarded the weapon with a grunt, turning around just as the first came back for more.

Owen side-stepped the man’s attempt to run him through with a three foot single-edged blade, bringing a punishing vertical fist down onto the back of his skull. The force of the blow immediately sent the guard face first into the snow, causing him to angrily pound the earth as he rose to his feet. Owen re-set his stance and brought his hands up in a guard, more than willing to punish these evil beings while the Draugr kept the ones behind busy. He deftly blocked and parried his opponent’s flurry of punches, giving enough ground to make the demon think the advantage was his.

At the last moment, Owen’s elbow connected with the chin of his enemy’s helmet, staggering him back a step and allowing the Moros the opening he needed. He seized the demon’s helmet with both hands and delivered a punishing knee strike directly to the visor to force another stagger before delivering a bone-crunching spinning side kick to his chest. The second collided with him from behind, sending them both to the ground in a shower of snow. Owen managed to roll onto his back, reaching out to grab the barrel of the man’s sidearm as he tried to take aim from point blank range.

The two struggled in an attempt to overpower one another while the first guard tried to shake off the cobwebs. Shots rang out, missing Owen by mere centimeters before he managed to gain positional advantage and press his boot right into the man’s groin. With a hearty shove, the Moros threw his opponent off of him with as much strength as he could muster. As the three combatants gathered themselves and faced off, Owen now found himself between them and their master. More importantly, their backs were to the ridge.


[Background Music: Red vs. Blue OST "Ice Fight" - Jeff Williams]

With a wicked grin, Owen dispersed the snowstorm occluding the face of the cliff and revealed his handiwork. More than a dozen bricks of plastic explosive were daisy-chained together across the center-line of the ridge, and the red lights blinking over each indicated they were armed and primed. The two guards turned to look behind them for a moment before looking back at Owen, who now held the last detonator in his hand.

Despite the chaotic din of the battle raging nearby, the tone emitted from the device as Owen pressed the button could be heard from all those not participating. That same instant, the explosives he had put in place immediately did their job in blasting the face of the cliff into dozens of massive, jagged chunks of rock that flew into the air and out towards the battle. Owen watched in mild satisfaction as the two immediately turned and took off running toward him.

Even as the mountain literally began hurling giant pieces of itself at him, Owen stood his ground for the amount of time it took for the two to reach him. He intercepted the first, blocking strikes as he paid more attention to the situation around him than the combatants themselves. Within seconds the entire engagement with the Draugr was buried beneath tons of rock and snow, leaving Owen facing only the two honor guard.

They approached at the same time, throwing punches and kicks to try and pin the Moros in his own trap. Owen blocked a right hook from the first, countering with a quick and sharp roundhouse kick to the man’s leg. This caused him to drop to a knee, but as Owen shifted his focus to the second he was caught off guard by a flying drop-kick that hit him square in the chest. The Moros fell backwards with a pained grunt, landing beside the first assailant as the demon rolled to avoid being impaled by a falling shard of mountainside. Owen was also forced to somersault backwards as that same shard collapsed towards him, the ground quaking as the length of it slammed into the snow in his wake. As soon as he found his feet, the first guard kicked the piece that nearly crushed him a moment before, sending it spinning along its length toward Owen’s legs across the ice.

Owen hopped over the chunk of stone, growling as he set the first in his sights. His elbow slammed into the side of the thrall’s head, sending him toppling to the ground. Owen side-hopped to avoid a sliver of mountain the size of a city bus as it slammed-point first into the ground between them, and was disappointed when his opponent rolled away from it as it toppled. The Moros sprang backwards to avoid another chunk landing to his right and falling over towards him. Each impact shook the ground, potentially continuing the chain reaction his explosives had started. Owen did not flinch, however, and in fact ran towards the chaos, using a chunk that landed parallel to his trajectory as a ramp.

As he reached the edge of the ramp, Owen used a Matter spell to weaken the molecular bonds of another upright piece of jagged mountainside that held up the high end. As his fist collided with it, the combination of magic and raw physical power caused the chunk to rip in half and sent the top of it flying towards the second guard at high speed. The man barely avoided being obliterated by going prone on his back, while the other landed atop the fragment as it impacted another. With a hard kick, the guard launched himself high into the air to meet Owen as the mage did the same.

The moment they collided, Owen hooked his fingers beneath the chin guard of the thrall’s helmet and the belt around his waist, using the aid of gravity to break his adversary’s back across his shoulders as they landed. The sickening crunch that filled the air was swept away by howling winds, and Owen growled as he unceremoniously hurled the now dead guard at his remaining counterpart. His enemy caught the body directly in the solar plexus, knocking him to the ground just before a mammoth-sized chunk of rock crushed him with the violence of a collapsing building.

Violet eyes set their focus on Gravius, and without any hesitation Owen started toward him. The last of the mountainous debris rained down behind the mage as an unnecessary reminder of the destructive power he wielded. Nothing was going to stop him now, not when he was so close to everything he had spent his life working for. Only one thing stood between Owen and his family, and that being would pay a steep price for that sin. The mage reached out a hand to release the energies for a spell designed to ensure his complete control of the situation, and was utterly surprised when nothing whatsoever happened.
Certain that the universe itself had made the mistake and not he, Owen tried again. Once more the spell fizzled and died before ever reaching reality, forcing the mage to change his tactics. As much as he would have liked to rip Gravius apart piece by piece, the Necromage would take whatever he could get at that point. Owen roared and drew Hrunting, the enchanted, singing blade he’d stolen from their father the night of Rachael’s abduction.

[Background Music: Adagio for Strings(Choir) - Samuel Barber]

Hrunting’s song pierced even the howling winds swirling about them as he whirled it through the air in a dead sprint towards his enemy. Owen would not be denied, not after so long. He would plunge the sharpened steel into the demon’s heart and rend him asunder from forehead to groin and claim victory. Nothing could stop him now, not when he was so close to his objective. The last few steps crunched in the snow before complete silence overtook Owen’s universe as he leaped into the air.

An invisible force stopped the Necromage mid-flight, abruptly freezing his trajectory and suspending him in the air just out of reach of Gravius. Owen’s blood turned to ice in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature, and a sudden, deep fearful realization set in. Gravius held an outstretched palm towards him, using a powerful fundamental magic to hold him in place. Owen could not comprehend how such a weak, cowardly creature could so easily subdue him, but when he felt pressure begin to squeeze him from all sides he knew there was no hope.

“Another young fool who met his doom trying to stop the inevitable,” Gravius said with the calmness of a man discussing the weather. “You’re not the first, nor will you be the last. However, I am willing to admit that you are by far the most doggedly persistent of the heroic idiots I’ve killed through the years.”

“Rachael….”

“Is that her name? You know, after all this time I never even bothered to ask what you all called her.”

“Rachael…!”

“Nothing else to say, have you? I guess the balance for such physical and magical prowess had to be diminished intellect,” Gravius continued. "A pity. Know that because of the trouble you've caused me, the rest of your family will soon join you in Hell.”

Gravius slowly began to curl his fingers toward the palm of his hand, making it into a fist. For every millimeter his digits moved, Owen felt the gravity around him increase. The pressure quickly went from merely painful to utter agony as it started to literally crush him like an empty aluminum can. The Necromage struggled against it with everything he had, but he was no match for the raw unbridled power an Elemental could bring to bear. Sweat poured off of him despite the cold, and as he felt the gravity exponentially increase to the point where his bones would begin snapping Owen turned his violet gaze upon Rachael.

He bared his soul to his sister in that briefest of moments, his eyes imploring her for help. More than that though, Owen silently begged for her forgiveness. Every time Owen had clawed his way back from the brink of destruction had been for her, driven by the love they had always felt for one another. He had no illusions about escaping this, however, not without her. If Owen and Rachael were going to survive, she had to be the reason now. The pain soon became too excruciating for him to bear, and as the sounds of his own bones beginning to fracture from the stress they were under reached his ears Owen’s head fell back in a scream that made the angels weep at his suffering.

~*~

It was Owen’s cry of agony that suddenly brought Rachael out of her compartmentalized mind and back to the moment. Everything became clear almost immediately as the fog clouding her consciousness was dispersed. Her gaze fell onto her baby brother being tortured to death by a twisted megalomaniac, and something inside of her snapped. Her heart broke at the same moment her blood began to boil, and Rachael knew that she would either act in this moment or never again.

Once she decided to act, Rachael moved without hesitation or fear. There was no mercy to be had, for they would be shown none. Revenge was not even a thought in her mind, only protecting someone she loved. What she could not do for herself all those years ago, Rachael intended to do for Owen now even if it cost her her life. She gripped the length of chain in her hands; her eyes full of fire as she waited for the briefest of beats to ensure Gravius had his attention focused solely on her brother.

With the swiftness of a panther bursting forth from the foliage Rachael pounced. She leaped from her mount onto Gravius in a full-form tackle that would have made any rugby player proud. Rachael wrapped the length of chain around her captor’s throat once, crossing it in her hands behind him and pulling with all her might. The links dug deeply into the thin strip of flesh not protected by armor or thick hide, cutting off air flow and immediately causing Gravius to release his hold on Owen. Even as her brother dropped the five or so feet to the snowy earth below, Rachael pulled with all of her might.

Letting go meant death. Letting go meant losing family. It would turn her struggle into her greatest defeat. None of these things even crossed her mind in that moment, only that she had to keep pulling as hard as she could. Her master’s arms flailed about helplessly, and he was powerless to attack with magic what he could not see. Every muscle in Rachael’s body corded as she kept the chain taut, feeling the metal grinding against itself as she squeezed the life from the evil bastard who destroyed her family.

Even after Gravius’s body went limp, Rachael was too afraid to let go. Her arms, chest, and shoulders ached from the constant strain of pulling, but still she did not relent. It wasn’t until she felt someone prying her hands away from the metal that she realized her master was dead and her brother trying to comfort her. Unfortunately, instinct kicked in before conscious thought and she started swinging. Owen caught her wrists, however, easily overpowering her and bringing his gaze level with hers.

“Rachael! Sis! It’s okay,” he said. “I’m here… he’s gone now. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I love you, Rachael… You did it… you killed him. It’s over.”

~ Three Days Later ~

[Owen's Theme: "Public Enemy" - Starcraft 2 OST]

The town of Duskmarsh was a community quite different from most in the world, much less South Carolina. Nestled near the coast, it was a healthy but manageable tourism destination which meant local business were able to maintain success against big corporations in the cities. Surrounded on the other three sides by wilderness and home to less than five thousand people, it was one of the few places left in the world Owen felt truly at home.

The Butterfly Inn was exactly as he had remembered it more than a decade ago, though according to recent information it was under new management. A deep anxiety pulsed through the Necromage as he considered his next move. She was in there, fulfilling a dream whispered in the dark as they cuddled in the bed of his pickup beneath the stars. His heart felt as though it was collapsing upon itself like a neutron star, and it was a feeling so powerful that even the physical pain of his injuries were outweighed by it. What Gravius had done to him was nothing compared to the crushing anxiety he faced in the wake of facing Cassandra Makali.

He had squared off against far more dangerous foes than this. Compared to what he had just accomplished in the mountains of Norway, Owen should have had no issue walking into the hotel and facing the music. What didn't compare was the weight his decision had placed upon his soul. The Necromage had done things she likely would not forgive him for, or even be capable of understanding. The feeling of the leather rod beneath his shirt against his chest was a constant reminder of that, as was the empty space on his left ring finger. At one time it had been space reserved for Cass, but now was a constant return to the most horrible memory of his past.

Owen decided to go ahead and get it over with. She was probably happily married with a family by now anyways. Regardless of what she may have felt back then, it was unlikely that Cass would be the sort to ever hurt him just for the sake of doing so, no matter how his abandonment might have hurt her. The Necromage took a deep breath as he walked up to the door and opened it, stopping dead as he saw her leaning over the front counter.

Cassandra was as beautiful as she'd always been, though more-well endowed than he remembered from their time together. The beauty mark on her cheek was still present, and her chocolate tresses were tied up in a bun with a few stray wisps framing her angelic countenance. Owen swallowed hard as his heart turned to ice. His feet became like lead bolted to the floor, and as much as he longed to step over the threshold he could only block the doorway. The sunlight at his back framed his hulking silhouette perfectly, and the Stetson crowning his head cast shadows over his face.

So focused was Cass on her work that she didn't even look up when the door opened. Her beauty was beyond compare, and despite everything he felt all those old feelings instantly come rushing back. The very sight of her terrified him yet induced an incomparable longing, but he wasn't about to let himself have any hope. No, that had been his destruction more than once. Owen licked his lips, and rather than wait for her to notice him, foolishly spoke the first thing that came to mind.

"Hey, darlin... Long time no see. Sorry I never called. Something... something came up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten years was a long time for a woman to wait for a man. Cassandra had been only sixteen when Owen disappeared in the middle of the night along with his sister. The missing siblings had rocked the town, and sent Cassandra down a spiral that she once thought she could never recover from. There was only one thing that saved her.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was eventually two things that had saved her. The one most cherished inanimate object she owned was the tiny piece of string that she had worn around her finger for two years after Owen had disappeared. She'd never once given up hope, but the string had been through much and was beginning to fray. She couldn't imagine it breaking, and so she had gingerly placed it within a small ring box inside her larger jewelry box for safekeeping.

In its place on her left ring finger was the silver and amethyst ring her dad had given her only an hour before his death. On her right hand on the ring finger where that ring had once been rest a dual triquetra.

On the particular day which a dark figure clouded the doorway, she was pouring over the batch reports from the last month. She hated the paperwork that came with owning the Butterfly, but loved the job itself. Five rooms to take care of, respectful guests, getting to meet new people every week - it was a blessing from the Gods, and she wouldn't give it up for anything.

Almost anything.

While her best friend busied herself in the kitchen, readying for the dinner buffet they would set up for the guests, paper work called to her. She didn't like the call, but it called nonetheless. She'd heard the door open, but being that she had a No Vacancy sign hanging from the front window, she knew it couldn't be a new customer, and when they would go past the desk she would call out "Good evening" to be polite at least.

The voice that spoke was not one she had thought she would ever hear again. It was unmistakable, she would know it anywhere. Cassandra froze, her eyes lingering on one particular number before she could bring herself to look up at him. In the span of a few milliseconds, every emotion she'd had over the past ten years ripped through her. anger, pain, grief, happiness...

The happiness turned into pure elation, and she dropped her pen before moving around the counter toward him. "Owen..." she breathed out, losing whatever breath she currently had within her. Her world tilted on its axis, and her vision narrowed on him. The one man she'd waited for, the one man to whom she'd given her heart to in high school. The one man whom she'd never truly given up on, or lost hope for.

She stared across the lobby at him, her green eyes catching his violet gaze for a moment before slowly moving down his body, making absolutely certain he was corporeal and she hadn't completely lost her mind and was hallucinating - again. "Owen!" the second time, she shouted his name gleefully and raced across the room to throw herself into his arms. The small witch buried her face against his neck, inhaling his scent, memories rushing back all at once. Nights underneath blankets in his bed, in the bed of his truck, fingers interlaced, calling out constellations and making up their own goofy ones.

Cassandra wrapped her arms around him tightly, and in a moment the giddiness gave way to tears that wracked her entire petite frame. "You're home. I thought I'd never see you again. You're home!" The tears were not ones of grief, rather pure, unadulterated happiness that came from the depths of her soul. There was so much to say to him, so much to ask, but the only words she could continue to speak was to state the very obvious. He was home, and he was alive.

In that precise moment, it was all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Cassandra didn't respond at first, Owen was afraid she hadn't heard him. Her emerald gaze settling on him proved that theory incorrect, but awakened a whole new set of fears as her visage ran the entire gamut of emotions in the space of a few seconds. It was like a slot machine from Hell, and Owen had no idea if it would come up sevens or jolly rogers. His heart slammed within his chest like he had just finished a marathon, and upon seeng the ring on her finger he wondered whether he had just made the second-worst decision of his life by walking back into hers.

All but one of those doubts and insecurities were cast aside the moment she spoke his name, shouted it, rounded the corner, and hurled herself at him. He braced for the impact of her petite form, but even that was not enough to prepare him for her near tackle. Owen grunted softly as Cassandra collided with him and threw her arms around him and squeezed, unable to do anything but return the gesture. He encircled her with his strong arms, bringing his hands to rest against her back to hold her against him.

Owen didn't care that what she did hurt him physically, because everything else in that moment had him beyond any high he had ever experienced. The one thing that had kept him sane during the worst trials of his search for Rachael was back in his arms again, and the only thing he could comprehend in that moment was the scent of her hair, the feeling of her hands against his back, and the way her heart beat against his chest. Despite the way she wept against him, Owen could feel how happy she was, and that was only confirmed when she spoke the obvious.

"By some miracle... yes, yes I am," he replied softly.

Emotions threatened to overcome him right then and there. Feeling and hearing her cry against him was just too much, but Owen had not survived by allowing his emotions to control or overcome him. He had lived to see her again by compartmentalizing himself to the point it most would consider it unhealthy. Inside, however, within his heart of hearts, Owen wept harder than he ever thought he could. Externally, his voice was shaky, but calm and deep.

"I'm sorry, Cass... for everything. But I found her... I brought her home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra allowed herself to slide down him to let her feet touch the floor, and let go for only a moment to wipe the tears from her face. Joy shone in her eyes, and she moved her arms to his waist, hugging him again. "You found her?" she looked up at him, resting her head against his chest and smiled. "I knew it. I knew you left to find her."

The news of both Harborson siblings going missing had rocked the town, none moreso than Cassandra, who looked up to Rachael, and was desperately in love with Owen. Before their disappearance, her mother had told her their young love would fade, but a decade later, being in his arms again everything felt as if it had suddenly been right again. Everything in Darkmarsh made sense again.

"Is she okay? Injured?" Every possible scenario flashed through her mind, though she was certain that she couldn't comprehend what Rachael had gone through in her time gone. Her heart broke for Owen's sister, and then more so when she thought of all the years he spent searching for her, knowing that the longer she was gone, the more she could be forced to do, or have done to her.

She knew how Owen had reacted when everything was revealed with Alec, and though revenge had not been taken against him, Cassandra knew in her gut that whoever had taken Rachael likely did not live to make another attempt. And if the kidnapper was any sort of sadistic like Alec had been, Cassandra knew Rachael would need a friend.

She was about to add another question on top of her rapid fire ones when a sudden thought popped into her mind. "How did your mom and dad react to you being home?" She imagined Paige's reaction being much like hers, but Dan? The man was unreadable, even for her. His reaction would surely come as a complete shock to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a moment of grateful reprieve when Cassandra allowed her weight to settle back down onto the ground, and a breath Owen didn't realize he had been holding left him in a rush. Thankfully, the Necromage was smooth enough to play it off as simple relief in seeing her, and wrapped her up tightly as she hugged him again. Owen buried his face against the top of her head, again just breathing in her scent as she expressed her confidence that he would do what he had set out to.

With everything Owen had been through during his time away, he wasn't sure if Cass would still have a place in her heart for him. Her actions told him he might just be a complete fool, and he could not help the deep stab of guilt over his own lack of faithfulness to her if that was the case. He had assumed she would have moved on without him, and he had done the same for a time. It had ended up becoming the epicenter of the most traumatic series of events in his life, and he now had to wonder if that was not punishment for his lack of faith. Cassandra's questions came spilling forth a moment later like a rapid-fire interview segment on the news, but it was a merciful reprieve from the path his own thoughts were taking.

"She's... physically okay for the most part. A few bumps and bruises," he replied. "But there's a lot she's been through. I'll leave it up to her to tell you, but she might not be fit to see anyone for a little while. Mom and Dad were ecstatic to have us back, of course. Immediately called the rest of the family and gave them the news. That was three days ago... Mom insisted I come find you as soon as all that died down, so uh... here I am."

The Necromage shifted uncomfortably back and forth on his feet, terrified to ask her about the ring finger of her left hand for fear of the answer. His earlier thought process regarding faithfulness on her end came to a screeching halt with that visual casting of doubt, and he figured the appropriate thing would be to slow-walk his way toward that particular minefield. Preparing for the worst, Owen took a deep breath and met her emerald gaze with his own as he put her at arm's length with his hands on her shoulders.

"What about you? It's... it's been a long time. I'm sure a lot's changed for you."

~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief when Owen informed her that Rachael was physically okay. She had drawn a weak conclusion that it would take her some time to first adjust to being home and safe, and second to even think about reliving what she'd been through to talk to anyone about it. But then he dropped the bomb that he'd been home for three days. It stung, knowing that it took his mom and dad telling him to find her for him to come to her, but the sting quickly wore off.

It'd been a decade. For her the time had flown in places and dragged in others. but for Owen? Gods knew what trials he had to go through to find his sister, and of course he would need time to adapt too. Her eyes still glistened with unshed tears, and she couldn't help two more dropping as she looked up at him again. He seemed unnerved, uncomfortable, and damned if his words weren't strained at the end of his response.

Being gently pushed back from him wasn't what she wanted, nor expected. She narrowed her eyes in confusion and looked up at him as he spoke. His words sounded almost ripped from his throat, as if he didn't want to know the answer. He was right, though. Things had changed for her. Much more than he would probably expect.

"Well," she started, her voice tight as her throat unexpected clenched from holding back another sob that wanted to wrench itself from her body. "I'm owner of the Butterfly. I've actually been working here for the last eight years. The previous owners retired a couple years back and since I was the one here most of the time anyway, they left it to me."

That was the start of a very long laundry list of things she needed to tell him, but where to start? "Um, the coven has changed since you left." she gave a little shrug, and swallowed roughly. "Four years after you left there was a demon attack. Full scale. We- we lost a lot."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tears that fell down Cassandra's cheeks were too much for Owen to look at, even with ten years removed from any real emotional moments with her. Time and distance had done nothing for the feelings that had been buried in the core of his very soul for the woman, and it was quickly becoming difficult for him to maintain control of his outward facade. Frankly, a session with the Anakim Batiba and the instrument that now hung around his neck was preferable than watching Cassandra shed even one tear.

Her body language told him everything he was doing was wrong, and he felt it like someone was scooping out his insides with a shovel. Despite that, Owen was too afraid to trust his instincts concerning her, and instead did what was "safe" in his mind. The way her eyes narrowed contrasted sharply against her heartfelt welcome only moments before, and sent a shard of ice right through the center of his heart. When she spoke of the Inn, he could not help the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly. Owen was proud that she had found success, but hoped it hadn't cost her as dearly as his had.

When she mentioned the coven, however, the Necromage felt a crushing blow strike him in the stomach. His family held different beliefs than hers, but that had not prevented the different supernaturally gifted households in Duskmarsh from being friendly with one another. It was a rare symbiosis where each accepted the differences of the other without conflict, and could come together when outsiders threatened the peace they had fought so desperately to attain. Owen swallowed back the lump that formed in his throat, and rectified his mistake by bringing Cassandra into another embrace.

"Who...?" was all he could manage to ask after several moments of trying to figure out what to say. "Who was lost?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra was able to catch her breath and steady herself as he brought her back in to him. She found a strength with him that was unparalleled. While she knew she was strong, with Owen, it seemed so intense that she could almost become fearless. It was something she'd only found in the revenge that came with avenging her fallen family. "Katie and Carrie, Garret, Jenny, Kegan, Alex and Xavier. Alexandra," she finished with a slight hiccup in her voice. Even after all these years saying their names still hurt. "I got the little ones out with my mom. I came back to fight and found it over. Miranda was struck trying to save Alex, she... she still carries the scar of a reminder with her that it wasn't enough. Alysandra was almost lost to us. If it weren't for Leandra's quick thinking she would have been."

She stopped speaking then, her voice shaking too much to allow her to go on. She knew he would feel remorse and regret for not being there. She knew he would have helped and lives would not have been lost had he been there, but he had more important things. Family came first, and never once did she truly expend the energy of putting those thoughts anywhere near her conscious mind.

There had been too many nightmares immediately afterward of losing him in the skirmish as well. the Halliwell family offered their condolances and regret for not knowing it was coming, for not being there. Her mother had told all of them that they were not to blame. No one was other than the demons themselves. it was what had led Cassandra into the Underworld to hunt them and take every last one out. It was when she'd finally manifested that Rage within her. She'd done that without anyone's help.

It had taken her four years to find the strength within herself to lead the coven, and it was in the months after losing so many that she stepped up as her mother stepped down. No demon had taken them by surprise since, though many had tried.

"It hasn't been all sadness, though. We've had newcomers to our family. Makayla found an older sister that Marcus and Lauren were forced to give up. Caleb has a half brother who is a Uratha. There's also a small pack here in Duskmarsh that helps to protect the town. So... not all bad, there has been plenty of reasons to smile."

One of hers was at her home with Katherine at that moment, now how to bring that bombshell up?

"Even more now that both you and Rachael are home," she finished, giving him a little squeeze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen listened to every word as he held her, but truthfully wanted to hear none of it. Each syllable only compounded the heartache from what he had sufferd during his time away, but it was clear it was what he needed to know. Hearing that a good number of his fellow teammates and closest friends from high school were dead did not sit well with him, and he found it difficult to resist the urge to vomit at the news. Owen had been desensitized to a lot of things over the years, but the loss of people close to him was something he could never become calloused to.

When he had left Owen had been a local hero, the golden boy everyone looked to to bring glory to their little town. He was supposed to play for a big-time college, then turn pro and put Duskmarsh on the map. All he had ever wanted was a life free of the struggles his family and Cassandra's coven had faced. He had wanted nothing to do with magic, miracles, or protecting the world from the Fallen and their Demons. He had planned to get the woman in his arms away from all of that, to set up a peaceful, happy life somewhere far away from the madness he had grown up around.

He could not escape the sting of remorse that came with the knowledge he had failed his friends, but Owen knew there was nothing he could have done. The Necromage had not even been aware of the attack, nor would he have been in any capacity to assist with it. Four years ago, he had been in the deepest literal Hell outside of Tartarus. He had been unable to help anyone, even himself, and thus his regret was merely an echo in his mind rather than a present cry of agony. Owen stroked Cassandra's back tenderly as she spoke, but it was out of instinct more than memory or a conscious attempt to comfort her. Truthfully her words made him feel numb, to the point he wasn't sure if his feet were even restng upon solid ground.

Cassandra's assurance that not everything had been an ongoing tragedy since his depature was no more coherent to Owen than the crash of waves upon a distant shore. His eyes were unfocused and glazed as he got lost in the imagination of what must have happened, of what she had been through. When she squeezed her arms around his ribs, however, Owen was dragged out of his reverie by a sudden, sharp spike of physical pain running through his ribs.

His breath caught, the pressure alone taking it from him for a moment before he again put her off of him. Owen looked down at her with a forced smile, lifting her chin with his index finger gently beneath it. He took in a deep breath and let it out in an unsteady sigh, risking a glance at the ring, just to be certain he wasn't seeing things that weren't there again.

"I won't bother with empty platitudes, Cass... you know I wish I could have been here to help," he said. "I'm just glad you're okay, and the coven was able to save as many as they were. I... I don't know where I could even begin on my end, except to ask that you be careful with the hugging. I'm a bit tender from the fight to get Rachael back, and I haven't gotten much rest since getting home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra paused and loosened her grip on him, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" she stopped as she noticed his eyes moving to the ring on her finger. He clearly didn't recognize it, and in an instant heat crept onto her cheeks. Did he think she was engaged and yet holding him such as she was? It must have looked like a contradiction to him, and likely confused him.

Gingerly, she rubbed his back and then his sides over where she had just hugged him. "I'm sorry," she said in response to him asking her to be more careful. Then she took in a deep breath as she glanced at the silver ring on her finger. She could have fallen back into their old ways of teasing and taunting each other relentlessly, but felt it would be more prudent if she remained as truthful and straight forward as possible.

"Owen, that's not what you must be thinking. I-its the ring my dad gave me," she pulled his shirt into her hands, clenching them around the fabric as if it would be enough to keep him pulling away from her if he truly wanted to. "The string was fraying, I didn't want to lose it. Do you remember it now? The ring he gave me on my thirteenth birthday? I replaced the string with it, because the ring means almost as much as the string."

Cassandra made absolutely certain to look into his violet eyes as she spoke, letting the seriousness of her voice transfer into her own gaze. Her heart remained his, even after a decade of being apart. How could it not?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Cassandra started to apologize, Owen wanted to cut her off with a kiss like he used to do so often. It was a reflex honed from breaking her of a terrible habit that Alec had given her, but he wasn't sure it would be appropriate. He barely felt her touch against his back and sides, but nonetheless gave her a reassuring smile to let her know he was okay. The blush moving over her cheeks surprised him, but assumed she must have realized what she was doing was inappropriate for a woman with the hardware she was sporting.

Then she spoke, and the more words that left her lips the more his heart broke. On one hand, it was a dream come true. The girl he'd loved since high school had waited for him, and had even cared enough to preserve the only physical memory of their love by replacing it with something equally as meaningful. On the other hand, it meant she had been truer to him than he had to her. He had not only been in love since leaving Duskmarsh, but had even go so far as to pledge his heart and soul to another. Erana had died before they could be wed, but the commitment was still the same.

Owen had, in his mind and heart, betrayed Cassandra. He had betrayed her patience and faith and commitment to wait for him. Could he really be blamed for assuming that she had moved on as he had, or was it his guilty conscience trying to placate itself by projecting his perceived sins upon her? Either way, he felt like the biggest asshole in the entire universe, and took several moments before being able to find the words to reply.

"That... It means the world to me to hear you say that, Cass," he whispered for fear of his voice cracking. His tone was utter sincerity, unfettered and unforced. "If you knew... if you knew what's happened to me, the things I've been through, the person I had to become to get Rachael home... I don't know if you would still feel that way. But I never stopped loving you..."

It was the truth, though scarred by his actions as it was. Owen had never stopped loving Cassandra, but he had moved on from her only to be brought crashing down right back where he'd started from. Erana had been such a force for good in his life that he could not help but love her too. He had not let Cass go out of spite or fear or impatience, but because he simply felt at that time in his life that he would never be able to come back home. Owen never doubted that he would find Rachael, but he was secure in the belief that Rachael would return home without him once he did.

Then everything fell apart. He had been broken into pieces so small that they would pass through the eye of a needle, then forced to glue them back together into a fragile, flimsy facsimile of the man he had once been. Owen was cracked, flawed, tarnished, and ultimately faded from the bright star he had been for Cassandra. As the weight of everything settled upon him, his eyes showed the weight of the extra five years he had spent in a place where time did not exist.

"I don't deserve someone like you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The emotions that flooded into his eyes as he stared back at her before he spoke nearly broke her heart. His words confirmed what she had seen in his eyes, and she could only smile back at him. No matter the deeds he had done, no matter who he had to become, stronger, weaker, hardened into stone, whittled down into absolute nothingness, it didn't matter to her. Owen was Owen. He had helped her when she needed it the most, when she was nothing more than a broken shell of a girl with no hope and no dreams for a future.

He was within her heart from the first time he kissed her until the very second they stood in. Over the years one had wormed his way past the shield she had put up, yes, she had loved another. There never would have been anything to come of it, she lost him and so many others that night...

She shook her head not only to clear it, but in response to his final words. "Owen," her tone was gentle, the compassion she felt sprang life to new tears forming. "You deserve the world. You did what you had to for your family. Just as I would have had that been one of my sisters. Just as I did leading everyone into an act of vengeance for those fallen. You do what you must, and whatever the outcome, it's meant to happen that exact way. You left for a reason, and Owen you would be proud of what I accomplished. I continued growing stronger, and I did it to honor what you started within me. Please, don't say you don't deserve something."

She let go of his shirt and reached up to place her fingers on his jaw, moving her thumbs over his cheeks a couple of times. She loved the man standing before her a decade ago, and it was as if no time had passed. His violet eyes staring back at her were the same. Aged and had weathered too many storms in his fight to save his sister, but they were the same none the less.

"Not only are you still my hero, but you're this community's hero by beating the odds and getting not only Rachael home, but yourself as well. I cannot presume to know what you've gone through, but I can see the time in your eyes, the exhaustion in your soul. You beat every odd that was surely stacked against you. We looked for a time, you know. We tried to find you, but when we couldn't, I just held onto the hope. I knew if you had been lost I would feel it, and I never did. I knew you were alive, Owen, because you're stronger than I think even you give yourself credit for."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was too much for Owen. He could not take hearing what she was saying, because he didn't know that she too had loved someone else. In his current condition, Owen couldn't take knowing that. One might think it would bring him a reprieve, even relief from his guilt. The truth was, it would utterly destroy him regardless of what vindication it might bring for his relationship with Erana.

Her words were meant to soothe and comfort, but in that moment it was just a reminder of who she was juxtaposed against the monster he saw himself as. Owen's soul had so many rips and avulsions within it he didn't know if he could be described as a complete person anymore. The sacrifices he'd made and the horrors infliced upon him and by him upon others had made him so. Cassandra's thumbs against his cheeks met the only two tears he would shed in that moment on their third or fourth pass, and he could do nothing but rest his forehead against hers as his strength threatened to leave him.

Everything hurt. It was more than just what he'd endured while rescuing his sister, but a culmination of more than a decade of hardship he couldn't even begin to describe. Every painful, torturous lesson he'd learned had served to bring him right back to where he was in that moment. She praised him, or rather the person she thought him to be. In the moment it was enough to help him keep his composure as he rested his hands on her hips and closed his eyes against the torment until he got his heartbeat under control.

"I missed you... I missed you so much," he whispered. "I-I... I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes..."
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Cassandra smiled softly and closed her eyes as she nodded. "I missed you so much, Owen," she gave a small laugh then looked up at him. "You knew I would have insisted on coming with you." she answered his apology for not saying goodbye. They both hated goodbyes, even a decade before, leaving each other was difficult when they knew they'd see each other the next morning. Him leaving to save Rachael?

She certainly would have insisted on going with him. It was in her stubborn nature. She wanted to wrap him in her arms, to hold him and never let go, but it wasn't feasible. It certainly wasn't able to happen when she heard Makayla calling her name, the door to the kitchen swung open, and then a crash sounded from the dining room.

Cassandra jumped and turned to look back at Makayla who was standing in the dining room with a shattered salad bowl, lettuce, tomatoes, and shredded carrots littering the floor in front of her. "Kayla..."

"Owen?" Makayla said, her jaw hanging. "Owen!" She started over for them, crushing the glass on the floor in her haste before Cassandra held her hands out, spinning to put her back to Owen. "What?" she said as Cassandra shouted "No." at her.

"He's still hurting," she reasoned. "Gently."

Makayla smiled and slowed her approach, holding her arms out to him. "I'm so glad you're okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen shuddered against Cassandra in the moment before the door opened and the crash nearly caused him to jump out of his own skin. Sudden loud noises did not do well for his psyche, and this was no different. A dozen different moments threatened to flare to the forefront of his mind, but Cassandra's voice cut through the haze to calm it at the last second even though she wasn't speaking to him.

He lifted his gaze to meet Makayla's, offering her the same smile he would someone seated across from him at the poker table. It was friendly, but completely fake. He was glad to see her, just as he would have been glad to see Caleb or Emmit in that moment. The Latina was unbelievably beautiful, but was the best friend of his one true love and as a result someone he never looked at with more than a simple appreciation. They cared for one another, and were it not for Cass there could possibly have been something between them.

That being said, in that specific moment she was the last person on earth he wanted to see. He appreciated Cassandra's discretion on behalf of his physical condition, knowing that if she knew the half of it the woman would probably order him to a hospital immediately. The way she shielded him physically from her friend's approach did not escape him. Owen looked at the Latina's outstretched arms and did the prudent thing, pulling his friend into a brief but sincere embrace.

"It's good to see you," he replied, pulling back after a moment. The Necromage was immediately set on edge, however, not being used to all the attention being focused on him. The last three days had been far too much overstimulation for someone as private as Owen, and it was long past the point of wearing on him. "I uh... I should go. You two are busy, and I saw the sign outside."

He backed away, nearly tripping over a coat rack as he did so. "Cass... I'd love to see you tomorrow before I head out to the Border Marches... but I'll understand if you're still too tied up here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Page 2

Cassandra spun back to him, her eyes searching his, glowing emerald a moment before she shook it off. "You, you don't have to go, Makayla was just readying dinner for the guests, I'm, I'm not busy," the words rushed out of her so quickly she had to force herself to stop speaking. It was anything being said to delay him leaving her again. She had only just gotten him back, damn it. She wanted to shove her friend back into the kitchen to make him stay longer.

Makayla shook her head and backed away, looking to the dropped bowl. "Well, no salad tonight. Really, Owen, you don't have to leave. I was just going to ask Cass if she could call Alys and have her stop at the store for the shredded cheese we get."

"Oh, and Alys will be on her way here in a half hour anyway, you don't have to leave, she's relieving me for the evening," Cassandra added on, reaching out to take hold of his hand. She knew her brow was furrowed with her fear, goodbyes be damned, she didn't want to say it again already. And what did he mean Border Marches? "Owen? Before you go where? You just got back..." she trailed off uncertain of his answer, was he leaving her again so soon?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The glow of Cassandra's green eyes was something Owen had seen before, and the meaning behind it would have angered him if not for the desperation on her countenance. Again his heart broke at the thought of having brought her more pain, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint the woman he loved. The Necromage took a deep breath as Makayla backed away, almost expecting Cass to grab him by the lappels of his duster to hold him in place. His head was starting to pound from the stress of not knowing what he was supposed to do, which was only exacerbated by the input of the two women.

Cassandra deserved answers, and a to a lot more questions than he had the time to give. It was getting more and more difficult to keep his shields up to prevent her from gleaning something off of him by accident, and frankly the woman did not even realize he was no longer mortal. Owen did not understand what he was supposed to do, but he supposed in that moment that giving Cass what she so desperately sought from him was a good place to start.

"No, Cass... I'm not leaving," he replied softly. "I just... there's not really a lot of work around here for a high-school dropout who only has experience in the business of revenge. So I talked to the local Consilium in Charleston, and they hired me to do some work out in the Sunset Woods as a Boundary Warden. I've got to report to the campsite the day after tomorrow for a seventy-two hour shift."

He could see the panic and desperation in her eyes, and in that moment Makayla had already all but disappeared. It didn't matter if she was still in the room with them or not, for the only thing Owen saw before him was Cassandra's emerald gaze. He felt her hand slip into his, and had to force himself to keep from recoiling from the touch that could transfer memory. The Necromage reached up to tenderly stroke her beauty mark with the backs of his fingers, hoping to bring some calm to her fears.

"I'm not going anywhere... I'm never leaving here again if I can help it, do you understand? I gave up everything to find Rachael, but my purpose in that is done. I have no intention of ever leaving you behind again, Cass..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra could see he was overwhelmed, almost tangibly feel the stress lingering on him and nodded, leaning into his hand a little as he touched her. "First thing in the morning," she said, not thinking about the things she didn't want to dump on him just yet that could be waiting for him inside the home. She quickly rattled off her address, knowing he would know which one it was. "I'm up early during the week. 6am early."

She moved in close to him, wrapping her arms gently around him, though she wanted to hug him so tightly that perhaps she could meld him to her to keep him from leaving ever again, even for the job he had taken on. She wasn't certain what had triggered it, but there it was something flashing before her eyes of Owen standing before growing shadows. She knew in that slight flash of a vision that he was controlling them. Owen was more than what he seemed to be, but was - for some reason - hiding it from her.

Not that she could truly blame him. She had plenty she was holding back as well. "Tomorrow, first thing," she repeated firmly. She wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "We'll be able to talk more then, and I have a feeling there's a lot to catch up on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen was thankful for Cassandra's mindfulness and ability to read him even after all these years. He hoped she understood that more than anything he wanted to be by her side, to tell her everything that had happened to him sans a few specific details that could be saved for later. The Necromage nodded gratefully at her suggestion, slowly backing away until their arms were outstretched as far as they could reach with their hands still held.

"Tomorrow... thanks, Cass. You don't know how good it was for me to see you. To know... that you're still... still here. I'll see you in the morning."

With that he left. Owen hated goodbyes, and seemed to make a habit of surrounding himself with others that felt the same. His drive home in the old white pickup was one full of confusion and uncertainty, but for the first time in a while... hope. The Necromage had a feeling he wouldn't sleep that night, but that wouldn't make it different from many others. The only difference now is how to figure out how to tell the person he loved most on this earth that he hadn't waited on her.

Over the three days that had gone by since their return, Rachael still had not left her room. Owen had been busy getting settled back into a more normal lifestyle, and had found himself a job working with the magical creatures community. While he was by no means an ecologist, he had become an expert in the art of hunting, tracking, and killing. It was because of these skills that the local Consilium employed him to maintain the population of supernatural monsters roaming the border marches of the Sunset Woods.

It was work that suited him well, and the pay was reasonable given its dangerous nature. He did not have a set of defined hours, but would be on call for seventy-two hours at a time and off for forty-eight. This was both a blessing and a curse, as it could mean a lot of paid free time or a lot of missing out on sleep. Hikes through the wilderness were something Owen had always enjoyed, and combined with the opportunity to work alone meant he would have plenty of time for his thoughts.

That one aspect of the job frightened him more than any of the others. Voices he could tune out, but the flashbacks came and went without his consent. The constant revolving door of people who knew him or remembered him from back in the day had kept those private thoughts behind a nice wall, but there was no one beside him beneath the stars. It was in those dark hours that he found it most difficult to resist his deep desire to go over them.

Something kept him here, writhing on the rusted blade that was the fulcrum of his existence. He endured the agony simply because he had for so long, and like always there were people who needed him. Selfishness may have been human nature, but it was one Owen had always done his best to resist. Rather than find solace in sleep, the Necromage felt the twisting of his mind as it folded in upon itself like fractals beneath an electron microscope.

It was another one of those nights... another 2 AM.

[Background Music: "Finding the Director" - Jeff Williams]

At some point his hand fumbled around in his duster of its own accord, fishing out his phone. He looked at it, bringing up the video he wanted from the appropriate screen and hitting play. The image of a beautiful woman came into focus, with soft blue eyes and red hair cut just below the jawline. She was currently giving the operator of the camera a smile of mixed annoyance and amusement.

"Come on, Owen, I've got to go." Erana sighed as and her expression softened when she took in the look on his face. "Don't look at me like that, I'll be back in two days, tops. You know how important this is, so stop giving me that LOOK OWEN!"

Her sudden increase in volume was accompanied by a shriek of laughter as she threw herself toward the camera, which promptly cut to after a pause in the recording. She looked a little sadder now, and looked at something not directly on camera but just above and to the right. Erana let go of Owen's hand, giving a soft shake of her head.

"Don't make me say goodbye. I hate goodbyes," she said softly.

Silent teardrops landed on the screen as it went dark in Owen's hand, the battery dead. He put the device back into his pocket before rising to his feet and heading to his room. From there he discarded his duster before stepping over to the window and looking out at the stars. He was very much alone, despite his family that slept within a hundred feet of him.

"Oh, it's such a beautiful night... I want to die on a night like this."

Owen wrapped his arms around his sides in a way that made it look to the casual observer as though he was cold, but Harborsons never really got cold.

"I think I'll kill myself... Why not? It's not like anyone is going to drop by. I wish... I do wish I weren't alone right now. The last place I want to be is stuck in my own thoughts... Is it really going to be another one of those nights?

Owen knew the truth, of course. It was, and the way his insides were knotted and his chest ached, he couldn't imagine a worse kind of torture. His hand instinctively found the cord around his neck and used it to pull the leather sap from beneath his shirt. Almost like a heroin addict he gripped it in his right hand, shuddering and letting out a long sigh through gritted teeth.

His eyes cut to the wall, where he kept a conversational piece that always got laughs out of the people who made it into his bedroom. Inside a glass case was a standard police-issue firearm, and words etched into the case read: "THIS WAY TO THE GREAT EGRESS. BREAK GLASS IN CASE OF OVERWHELMING DESPAIR."

"If it is... then fuck it. I'll make sure there isn't another!"

He picked up a small paperweight statue of Jason Vorhees from a nearby shelf and hurled it at the case with perfect accuracy. It shattered, and Owen snatched the gun while still keeping hold of the leather rod. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath.

"No more suffering without you, Erana... No more stars for me to be alone under! No more! I'm coming to see you, darlin..."

He checked the clip, pulled back on the release and disengaged the safety before placing the barrel to his temple.

"I'm going over the stars..."

WAIT! Don't do it! Killing yourself isn't the answer!

Owen's eyes snapped open and cut across the room to see Batiba standing on the other side of his desk. She was dressed in the traditional red leather of the Anakim, and the armor clinging to her shapely figure was a sharp juxtaposition to the single braid her hair was pulled tightly into. His gaze narrowed, and a deep growl rumbled through his chest. Was it a hallucination? He wasn't sure, but all the same he withdrew every bit of magic he had into himself.

"Like hell it isn't, you bitch! You don't know what it's like! You couldn't even imagine!" Owen shouted.

"I broke you, but an eternity before that I had to be broken. I know, and I know that you should listen to me!"

"FUCK YOU, you lying cunt! You just want me to stay here and twist on this rusted blade!" he cried out, now waving the gun around.

"You're right! That filthy bitch is lying! I'm waiting for you, Owen. Come meet me over the stars."

"Yes..."

NO, Owen! Don't listen to her! She's the liar! You can get help! Please don't do anything stupid!" Batiba pleaded. "There has to be someone out there who can help you! Different from the ones who have hurt you!"

"Shut up! You spent years hurting him! Owen, the only way you can stop this pain is to PULL THE TRIGGER!"

"Owen, listen to me. That's not who you think it is. I know I hurt you, but now I'm trying to help you! You have to listen to me!"

"Owen... I love you... come to me, please..."

Owen slammed a hand down onto his desk, the other gripping the gun tightly as he pressed it harder against his temple. He grabbed the television remote and hurled it toward Batiba in anger, tears streaking down his face as the internal struggle became too much. His finger tightened around the trigger, when suddenly he heard a familiar noise.

"Owen!" came the soft voice from the doorway. "Don't do it."

He opened his eyes and saw the last person he expected in the doorway to his room. She was tall for a girl, standing just over five and a half feet in height with an knockout figure and a fiery mane of red hair Owen had regrown out to her shoulders. Her brown eyes were ablaze, and she took a very careful step towards him.

"I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you... I need you, Owen. Please don't do this to yourself."

"It's too hard, sis... I did what I set out to do! But I wasn't good enough! I couldn't stop them...!" he shouted, dropping to his knees. "I failed... you, Erana, Cass, everyone..."

"Cass-what?" Rachael said, confused. Her voice was still very careful and quiet so as to not startle him. She didn't want anything to upset the weapon pressed against his temple. "Owen, talk to me... tell me what happened."

"Sh-she lost family, Rach... The coven lost so many because our side didn't help them. We could have stopped it... I could have stopped it."

"That's not your fault Owen, and you know it... you're hiding something from me. Put the gun down... let's talk," she said in a soothing voice. Rachael carefully reached out while he wasn't paying attention and snatched the weapon away from him before having to resist the forceful temptation to beat him over the head with it.

"If you ever try to kill yourself again, little brother... I'll make sure you'll want to die for a long time before I let it happen," she growled. "You brought me back from hell, and I'll be damned if your going to leave me after that! I don't know what happened to you or what's going on in that head of yours, mister..."

She literally shook from the strain of controlling her temper for a moment before looking down at him and sighing. "Why do you hold onto that thing around your neck?"

"That's none of your damn business," Owen replied sharply. He could not hold back adding with a chuckle a moment later, "Nosy bitch."

"Asshole," she growled before again softening her tone. "Come on, sit down and tell me what happened today."

He complied, moving to his bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. Rachael plopped into his overstuffed armchair and looked over at him intently. Her piercing gaze had always been enough to get him to spill when they were kids, but he was almost a stranger to her now. The Owen she grew up with would never have put his life in such meaningless danger, nor would he have been so selfish as to hurt the people who loved him. Whatever was going on ran much deeper than what happened today, but she had to start digging somewhere.

"Saw Cass, but you probably guessed that," he said. "She told me what happened after... we left. Told me the Nephilim attacked and almost killed everyone, but they were able to stop it. After everything she's been through though, she seemed... content. Not happy, but content."

"Is that so horrible?"

"I guess not. But she waited for me... and I didn't. I don't know how to tell her. She's going to hate me."

"You're jumping to conclusions that she would hate you for that. How long has it been since the Nephilim attacked?" Rachael asked.

"About four years," Owen replied.

"Did you get her number?"

Owen smirked, cutting a knowing gaze in her direction. "Duh, sis. It's me."

Rachael felt enough mirth to crack a small smile, but she was still beyond stressed in her own right. Owen was keeping something from her, and while now wasn't the right time to dig for it she knew it couldn't be good news. Despite how horrible his poker face was to those that knew him, he was amazingly good at keeping his secrets despite it. Perhaps it was a better poker face than she realized.

"So talk to her tomorrow, open up to her a little. You know how to do this!"

"And if she tells me to get out of her sight and never come back?"

"Cass is probably just scared you don't share her feelings anymore," Rachael pointed out. "I'm starting to feel like I was the lucky one. Being a slave to a megalomaniac is no picnic, but something worse happened to you… I just wish you'd tell me."

"I'd rather have my head cut off than have it examined, thanks," Owen retorted. "You're in no condition to preach either, missy. We're all fucked."

"That's one way to look at it," she replied. "Or you could see it as tempering. Something is coming that required us to endure these horrors so that we could be ready to face it... Nothing happens by accident, Owen. I know you see the Tapestry, even if you can hide your nature from the other families."

"My divination is a bit rusty," he said. "I'm lucky if I can predict a thick fog."

"I'm being serious," Rachael said with frown. She crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom, giving him a stern look.

"I know..."

"And what does the Tapestry tell you, Owen?" she asked.

"I don't know... it's like an out of tune guitar, but with a billion strings so I can't find the one that twangs," he replied with a sigh. "It's driving me mad."

"Get some sleep. Don't make me start following you everywhere, understand?"

"Yeah, you too."

Rachael rose from the chair and turned to leave the room, hugging her robe to her person tightly. As she reached for the doornob, Owen's voice cut through the darkness.

"Rachael?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, little brother."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra held on for as long as she could until she was forced to let go of him. The Gods were a cruel bunch of bastards, bringing Owen back only to force them apart not even thirty minutes later.

The fuckers.

She spent the next half an hour glaring skyward and mumbling under her breath about the deities above until Makayla caught her doing it. "What?"

"Crazy person, go home. Melinda's probably waiting for you anyway, and you need to calm down before you see her," the Latina said, positioning her fist on her hip.

Her friend was right. Melinda would be able to sense every emotion flying through her at a million miles an hour. Happiness, grief, anger, every side of the spectrum rushed through her. Melinda would sense it and there'd be no getting out of telling her that Owen was back. "I'll walk."

"Good, get the hell out of here." Makayla smirked and nudged her friend toward the door, using her abilities to float the coven leader's purse across the lobby. "Go on."

"Look, just make sure that-"

"Shut up and go, how long have Lys and I helped you out here?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes and huffed. "Since I took over."

"Exactly, now let us do what we do, and you get home. Tell Mel I said hi."

Cassandra kept looking back over her shoulder at the front of the Butterfly Inn, seeing Makayla still there until she wasn't in the line of sight any longer. She used to hate the walk from the Inn to the home she was able to purchase with Teddy and Nina's help. The previous owners of the Inn had become a set of grandparents to her, and she loved the both of them dearly.

The walk the loathed was one filled with landmarks from her time with Owen. It hurt her heart for far too long to see those places without him in it. The one that hurt the most was the little jaunt past the high school's football field. She couldn't help closing her eyes, allowing the past to bubble up in her mind. Whistles blew, an announcer came over the speakers screaming "Touchdown, Harborson has done it again!"

Those were the memories that hurt the worst for far too long. The way things used to be before she was forced to grow up and be an adult. It hadn't been long after Owen had left that the pressure was put on her to grow up and mature. The house she had purchased had four bedrooms, and a small balcony off the master suite on the front of the house. She had wanted it even in high school, knew in her gut that one day she would own it. It turned out that the gut feeling was right.

Waiting for her on the front porch was her mother, who sat with a cup of hot tea, her long hair left down, and Melinda, the precocious ten year old with long blonde hair curled up in the chair next to Katherine, reading.

"What is it today?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"Harry Potter," Melinda answered absently.

"Haven't you read through the series once already?" Cassandra asked ascending the stairs to the covered porch.

The girl turned identical green eyes onto her with a "duh" look in them. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't read it again."

"Which book?"

"Order of the Phoenix."

"You like that one just for Dumbledore's Army."

Melinda held her index finger up and smirked. "And I like what happens to Umbridge. She totally deserves it, mom."

Cassandra rolled her eyes and looked to her mother. "She doesn't get that from me."

Katherine chuckled and shook her head. "No, I think that's all from her father."

Cassandra paused a moment and swallowed roughly before she nodded and started inside.

"Leftovers are still in the crockpot!" Katherine called out after her.

Cassandra took in a deep breath and headed for the kitchen, dropping her purse onto the couch's end table. A bowl of the roast her mother had prepared and her comfort food had helped. Katherine was wise enough to wait until the food was ingested before approaching her. "Owen's back..."

"You knew this morning didn't you? It's why you insisted on me putting my hair up."

"Piper called," Katherine said with a slight shrug. "How is he?"

"You know," Cassandra said with slight irritation.

Katherine shrugged again and sank down at the kitchen table. "Perhaps I do, I'm merely making conversation."

"Why wouldn't you prepare me, mom? Don't you think having a heart attack in the middle of the Butterfly's lobby would be bad for business?"

"Dramatic aren't we?" she asked with her eyebrow raised. "Don't get on me. Just because you've been closing your visions off too much lately."

"I've been having nightmares about him the last two months, mom. I can't separate truth from the subconscious worry anymore."

"You go soak in the tub, I'll get Melinda around for bed, and you should get a good night's sleep. You're going to need it."

Cassandra sighed heavily and turned for the stairs. "Now she tells me," she muttered and got up two steps before Melinda caught her and hugged her tightly. "What's that for?"

"You need it, mom," Melinda said with a shrug, her bright green eyes wide with a childlike innocence.

"The empathy?"

Melinda smiled shyly and gave a light lift of her shoulders. "Only a little. I promised not to go too deep on people anymore."

Cassandra nodded then and kissed her daughter on the forehead before heading for the bath. The hot water helped calm her, and the lavender oil she'd mixed in with the water did it's work to soothe not only her body but her mind and spirit as well. She let out a mental thanks to Alysandra for the concoction, and a half hour later she was tucking Melinda in and saying good bye to her mom. She sent her sights out to the Inn, checking on everything before she turned from locking the front door to head to bed herself.

A couple hours later, and Cassandra had drifted off to sleep, but was growing even more fitful in her slumber.

A gun in a glass case, the glass shattering.

"If it is... then fuck it. I'll make sure there isn't another!"

The gun brought to a temple with violet eyes.

Owen's voice screaming in agony, emotional agony over his time gone.

"You just want me to stay here and twist on this rusted blade!"


Cassandra shifted in her sleep, a soft moan escaping before she whispered Owen's name.

"Come join me, Owen"

"Don't do it."

"PULL THE TRIGGER!"

Owen screamed, and determination set stronger in his gaze...

His finger tightened, the sound of metal straining echoed in her mind, and a sudden loud noise overlapped-


"NO!" Cassandra shot up in bed, gripping the blankets with a white knuckled hand. "No," she breathed, heaving in air as if she had been suffocated. "Owen, no. No, no, no..."

Slowly as acclimated herself to the light in her bedroom she laid back down again, telling herself it was just a dream.

She didn't sleep much more that night, unable to face her subconscious throwing images like that at her.

As the sun rose, so did Cassandra, followed by strong coffee and Melinda's energetic self bouncing around the house getting ready for school. The child spoke around her breakfast cereal about what she was looking forward to doing during recess that day, giggling as Cassandra could barely focus.

It was when she was on the porch, a long blue satin robe over her pajamas waiting on Melinda's bus that Owen's white pick up pulled into the drive. Her throat clenched, almost forgetting her words to him the evening before, "First thing". Well he certainly gave her first thing in the morning.

She threaded her fingers through her hair, pulling it over one shoulder as she then waved and held up her hand, middle and ring fingers down, she and Melinda's little secret sign for "I love you" as she moved toward the bus, giving the white truck a curious glance. Melinda looked back to her and Cassandra waved her on giving her a reassuring smile. Finally the girl turned and boarded the bus, and Cassandra gave an extra wave to the older male driver before she turned her attention fully onto Owen who looked like he'd had the same type of night she did.

"Need some coffee too?" She had to give it to him, he could try to hide it with his grooming, but the weariness in his gaze told her her hunch was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen did his best to conceal the night he'd had with a shower, shave, and two cups of coffee before heading over to the address Cassandra provided. The drive was frought with conflicting thoughts and a horrible case of anxiety, but none of it could have prepared him for what he saw as he pulled into the driveway. His eyes fell upon the beautiful little girl making her way to the bus that had followed him down the winding country road to Cassandra's house.

As much as he wanted to believe that she was Cassandra's niece, Owen knew better. His instincts told him exactly who the girl was, or so he thought. Blond hair, green eyes, and a smile that could only belong to her mother marked Melinda as the daughter of his high-school sweetheart. A pit of jealous anger boiled within his chest for a moment as he shut off the engine and forced himself to take a deep breath. He had been with Erana. He had loved her and lost her. Obviously Cassandra had done the same and just hadn't been able to tell him yesterday. How could he hold such a thing against her when he had done the same?

He couldn't, but that didn't change how he felt. Owen stepped out of the truck thinking Cass had lied to him, and in that moment her house had suddenly become the absolute last place he wanted to be. The Necromage wished he didn't feel so sluggish, cranky, and sore. If everything hurt yesterday, now a second pulse throbbed beneath his skin that added a shot through his nerves with every step. Cassandra's voice sounded like it was coming from underwater when it reached his ears, and he looked up with a furrowed brow at her inquiry.

"Uh... I already had two cups, but sure," he replied, deciding to keep his mouth shut about the offspring for now.

A billion questions exploded in his head, accompanied by a headache induced by the stress of everything that had happened since coming back home. Owen never thought he would find himself wishing to be back on the hunt for his sister, but right then it was the routine of it he missed. Compared to how everything had changed in the past three and a half days, it would have been like slipping on a familiar pair of shoes as opposed to walking barefoot over hot coals.

"You look good for someone who slept like shit," he commented with a weak, lopsided grin as he took in her appearance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled weakly and got to her feet, moving to the door to open it for him. "You always said I looked good in the morning, even if I did have nightmares all night the night before." Mornings in the junior hallway with Owen flashed in her mind, leaving a content smile on her lips before she realized what had happened and a blush rose on her cheeks. "Sorry, still can't seem to control that on little sleep. Once I'm more awake it'll be easier."

She held the door open for him and stepped back, inviting him in without words. She led him through the living room, seemingly toward the stairs before she turned right into the kitchen. She hesitated at the coffee pot before refilling hers, and grabbed a mug for him. Cassandra slowly turned to look him in the eyes and motioned toward the front of the house. "I know you must be wondering... and I said last night that there was a lot to catch up on. That wasn't an exaggeration. Yes, she's my daughter."

Cassandra looked away from him and down into her coffee. There was so much to say, but how to say it all? She sighed heavily, and then laughed softly, shaking her head as she reached out for his hand, pressing her palm to his. "I don't even know where to begin, and I'm sorry for that, so much information to span a decade." she crinkled her nose and laughed again. "That makes me feel old."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Cass found herself caught up in the reverie of her reminiscing, Owen shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. It was less of a nervous habit at this point than it was a means of managing the discomfort that extended weight on his legs brought. He was thankful when she came back to reality a moment later and offered her a reassuring smile before following her into the house.

He was impressed by what she had managed to accomplish for herself, though Owen never doubted for a second that Cass would ever struggle with independence. Even in her darkest days when she was completely lost, he knew that the things surrounding her were only temporary setbacks. Cass could overcome anything, and that was what made her so unbelievably attractive to him. That quality along with her compassion and ability to communicate with him in what he felt was the secret code to his heart and soul went so far beyond her beauty, that it was akin to heaping whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry atop a triple-scoop sundae.

Owen took the mug of coffee she offered, putting in his characteristic two and a third teaspoons of sugar along with enough creamer to turn the liquid nearly white. The Necromage followed her back to the front of the house as he sipped the steaming hot beverage, sighing a little at the pleasant taste and sensation of it warming his insides as it went down. Then Cassandra spoke again, and the subject he'd wanted to avoid for the time being was hurled at him like a pitcher trying to get him off the plate.

While dodging chin music back in high school was something Owen was good at, Cassandra's pitch hit the man right in the chest like a one hundred mile per hour fastball. He took a slow seat on the nearest available spot, making sure it looked like soreness rather than the fact he had just been run over by an emotional locomotive. It wasn't a hard sell considering how he actually felt physically, but Cass had a knack for seeing the truth he tried to hide like a fish in an aquarium. Owen took another sip of his coffee, afraid to look at her in that moment for fear that she would see the conflict raging within him.

"I knew it the moment I saw her," he replied softly when he finally found his voice a moment later. "She has your eyes. You have a beautiful little girl, Cass, and you are far from old."

Another sip of his coffee served to punctuate his statement before he was finally able to look at her face. He somehow managed to look her in the eyes for seconds at a time as he gathered himself, having no idea where to start with her either. The girl's origins were not something he was ready to explore, especially when his wrath would tempt him to go out, find the bastard who had laid with his woman, and beat him senseless.

"We don't have to go into it all at once," he continued after another sip. "The important question is... do you still want me around? I want to pick up where we left off, though I know that's probably not an option. The things I've been through... the person I've become don't exactly lend to being the parenting material. That's not me saying I don't want to be a part of your lives, just that... give me some time before you expect me to start braiding hair and reading bedtime stories."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Cassandra settled back down in her chair she was watching him closely, unsure if she had said the right thing, or if she'd jumped too far into an emotional basket that she still should have been top toeing along the edge of. The way he sat down next to her, in the same chair Melinda always claimed, told her her assumptions were correct. She wanted to apologize for it, but knew Owen still had his pride. Plus, he'd always disliked how often she apologized to him, for even the smallest infractions. Her knee jerk apologies had been dealt with long before thanks to him, though his preferred method of stopping her had led to her doing it just so he would kiss her.

She couldn't help the apologetic smile she gave him instead of saying the words, though she didn't take her eyes off of him. She still felt like she was stuck in some torturous dream in which just around the corner some darkness threatened to take him from her, whisk him away into nothingness and leaving her screaming in bed. She hoped if it was a dream that the darkness would hold off just a little bit longer and allow her some sweet respite to stare into his violet eyes just a little while longer.

His initial words brought her a smile. If only he understood the truth, his words would come so much easier to him. The words were right there, and she longed to say them, and yet struggled to pull them back for fear of him getting up and walking away. The truth would need to wait until the right time, until he was ready to hear it, and right then on his second day back with her was certainly not the right time at all.

Besides there was more to say than to speak about Melinda.

His next words pulled at her heart, and she closed her eyes, hating herself for even making him question what she would want. "Owen, of course I do. Anything you've been through we can handle together. There's nothing you and I can't handle together, it's the way we were before, and the way we will continue to be. You and I have always been stronger together. I don't want you to worry about being 'parent material'. I was in such a hurry to spend as much time with you as possible, I wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry for that. Even with you sitting here with me, I still feel like I'm going to wake up and this is all going to be a dream."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman beside him was not the only one wondering if she would wake up from this dream only to be greeted by a nightmarish reality. Contrary to her viewpoint, however, there were aspects even now that made his existence a hellish landscape of despair and hopelessness. She had a child. She had a child whose father was not present. What had happened to him? Did Cass love him as she'd loved Owen? Why weren't they married and why was he sitting here having coffee with her instead of sitting at Rachael's bedside begging her not to tell their parents about what happened last night?

"I... I don't know, Cass. I don't know what to do anymore. Every single moment of my adult life up till a week ago was spent focused on one sole task. It consumed everything I was, to the point where I feel like I'm little more than a weapon to be pointed and fired. I feel like I'm in a dream too, but I'm not sure yet whether it's a good one or not. One moment I'm sitting here with you, hearing you tell me you want to be with me, and it's the most wonderful thing I could ever hope for... Then I see certain realities. Realities that make me think I'm better off alone where I can't hurt anyone else."

He took another sip of his coffee, refusing to even look in her direction now. Owen stared towards some faraway place that may or may not have existed, the cacophany of battles long ago fought playing in his ears amidst the tortured screams of the ghosts of his past. It threatened to overwhelm him in that moment, to pull him from the moment he was sharing with Cassandra. Owen closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head to clear it, but only succeeded in chasing most of the distractions away.

"I should be in a fucking padded cell," he chuckled mirthlessly. "That's why I took a job that puts me out in the woods, away from everyone. I don't... I don't fit into this place like I used to, and I'm no hero regardless of what the people here want to see. The only thing keeping me from disappearing forever, Cass... is you."

Owen looked at her then, conveying the sincerity of his words through violet eyes that had lost much of their glow over the years. He smiled sadly, knowing his words would hurt her, but that they would also show her how much she meant to him. There was nothing to compare to the conflict raging within his soul in that moment. He wanted to be angry, but couldn't. He wanted to leave and never come back to this town again, but he couldn't. Though nothing he imagined could truly be denied him, Owen was simply frozen in place, unable to move or breathe. He was trapped within the prison of his own mortal coil, a captive of his mind and spirit with no hope of escape.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's words tore at Cassandra's heart. Better off alone was how she'd felt for a while too. But Owen had shown her how wrong she was, and eventually Cassandra hoped she would be the one to help him see it too. It wasn't fair to either of them, Rachael's kidnapping, the years it took to find her and bring her home. The losses both of them endured had irreversibly changed them but it was life.

Cassandra firmly believed that everything needed to happen to help them grow and survive in their surroundings. Everything happened for reasons unknown to them. Perhaps it was to make them stronger for each other. She watched him closely, her heart going out to him as she recognized a familiar sight. He was zoning out to what he'd been through, and after the nightmare she'd had the night before she couldn't allow him to stay in that place.

Just as she was about to reach for him, he spoke again, and this time she set her mug down and reached out to take his hand. "Owen, I'm always here, I always have been," she stopped a moment, looking up into his eyes, every ounce of love she still possessed for him shining through her gaze. "I'm surprised that all of us aren't in a padded room from the things we've been through and seen in our lives. Most would be, but I think we're made of tougher material than most. You survived, honey. You will continue surviving, just like I have."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Cassandra took his hand, it was like grounding an electrified wire. The circuit completed and brought him crashing back into reality once more. He barely held back the emotion that threatened to spill forth when she told him that she would always be there, and even as she finished speaking he knew better than to inform her surviving wasn't the same as living. He bowed his head, sighing softly as he tried to compose himself.

"It's too early in the morning to deal with this heavy shit," he said after a few moments. "I've got three days by myself starting tomorrow, and I'd rather not spend my first day back with you on the wrong end of an emotional shotgun."

Owen didn't realize how poorly his words were chosen, given what Cassandra had seen in her vision the night before. He knew nothing of it, and had chosen them ironically for himself. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and shifted uncomfortably, wishing he could reach under his shirt and grip the instrument that had been used in his torture. It's sweet embrace of pain would override the horrible ache that seemingly moved through every inch of him, that kept him from being able to sleep.

Instead, the Necromage took another sip from his coffee, still afraid to look at her for more than a few moments at a time. "Did you have any plans for today? I mean... would you like to go do something?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled when he spoke again, in full agreement that it was far too early in the morning for it, but when he finished something skin to a hiccup made her jump as the word 'gun' brought her back to her nightmare.

"Don't do it!"

"PULL THE TRIGGER!"


She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, reminding herself that Owen couldn't do something like that, not him. And he was right there beside her on her front porch. She was holding his hand, he was alive and well. Her smile - which had diminished with the reminder - returned full force as he spoke again and she gave a little nod. "I would love to do something... go somewhere. Mom was taking the morning shift, I think she knew I'd need the time."

Suddenly she was back in teenager mode, wanting to rush to his truck and yet perfect herself for him. "Um," she stood then, still holding onto his hand, and remembered she was still dressed in her pajamas. "Just let me... let me get dressed." She gave his hand a little squeeze and then rushed into the house, nearly taking the stairs two at a time before skidding into her room.

Stupid hardwood floors.

She made quick work of pulling on a long, bohemian, navy blue skirt that had a gold lace design that swept from her right hip to the hem by her left foot. A simple sky blue long sleeved shirt completed her look. Cassandra hurried to pull a brush through her hair, having air dried it the night before, it floated in waves around her shoulders. She pulled it over her right shoulder to tame it a bit as she slipped into a pair of black flats, then moved to rejoin him on the porch, hoping she hadn't taken to long.

"How about to the field we used to look at the stars in?" it was the last time she had seen him and often drove out there, no matter the amount of pain is caused her. For the first two years she would spin the string around her finger, often crying as she just sat there. She had screamed and railed against the Gods for taking him from her, for taking Rachael from him. None of it worked. None of it helped, and in that moment, she wanted to erase those memories of being without him and relive the moments she cherished most in her memories. Her time with him, laying in the bed of his truck, interlacing their fingers as they pointed out constellations in the stars, or made up their own. Whispering secrets to each other under the darkened sky.

It wasn't night, and they couldn't spend the time counting stars, but it was Owen. It would be perfect simply because he would be there next to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One moment Owen was seated there with his long lost high-school sweetheart. The next she had whisked away to some unknown area of her abode to change. When she re-emerged, the Necromage took in his own green flannel and black jeans and suddenly felt very under dressed. He scuffed his cowboy boots against the wooden floor of the porch, pulling his hat off customarily as he stood to face her.

She had always been beautiful, but the years had been unbelievably kind to Cassandra. Like fine wine she had fermented over the past decade into a distinguished, regal lady whose appearance could only be described as angelic. Owen's breath caught in his throat a little, and he couldn't help but stare at the vision that had rendered him speechless. The outfit only accentuated the changes motherhood had given her, and if anything Owen felt they had ripened the woman's beauty far beyond what it had been in high school.

How that was even possible was beyond his capacity to understand, given how gorgeous she had been even back then. After a few moments longer than was polite Owen realized he hadn't answered her and averted his gaze, clearing his throat as he tried to regain some semblance of his composure. For a moment everything in his past had been forgotten, and even the physical pain of his injuries had vanished in the shadow of her beauty.

"That... that sounds great," was all he could say, remembering to finish the last of his cup of coffee. "I uh... don't suppose there's any more where this came from?" he asked, gesturing with the mug in his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Owen stood, Cassandra almost felt dwarfed next to him. How could she have missed the subtle changes in him? He was tall in high school, but he seemed to have gained at least another two inches on her, while she'd stayed at her shorter than average height of 5'3". His muscles from high school were dwarfed by the ones he sported as a man.

It was in that moment, as she felt his gaze upon her, causing a slight blush to rise to her cheeks, that she realized they had no need to pick up where they'd left off. That chance was lost long ago. This was starting over. And it was perfectly fine to start over with each other. To relearn each other as they had learned each other in high school. Underneath it all, those kids were still there, but they were both adults now. There were changes that they both had gone through.

At his question she took his mug and nodded. "I have a thermos we can take, as long as you don't mind sharing?" she said with a smile and turned into the home. Moving into the kitchen, she reached into a cupboard and pulled a tall, chrome thermos down and emptied the pot into it. She flicked the power to the coffee maker off and moved back, grabbing her purse on her way to the door. "I can grab something for a snack, or even breakfast? I have a few bagels left..."
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That voice, it was a hint deeper than he remembered yet all the more femanine and sultry as a result. He hadn't heard it in what felt like an eternity, and wished he could continue to do so even if it cost him his ears. Owen nodded in reply to her inquiry, averting his gaze from her again if only to keep from being impolite. The Necromage shuffled his feet back and forth a little.

"I don't mind sharing," he replied. "And yeah, a little picnic breakfast sounds great, actually. I'll get the truck warmed up if you'll promise not to forget the cream cheese. Might want to grab a light jacket too, it's not going to get much over fifty-five today."

As she moved back into the house, Owen did his part and started up the old pickup to get the heater going against the cool autumn air. If he remembered correctly, Cassandra was far from being as immune to the cold as he was. He was glad he kept blankets in the cab, and had a feeling they would wind up needing them before their picnic was over.

He waited for her to arrive, holding the passenger door of the truck open for her the moment he saw her appear on the porch. "You might have to give me directions, ya know... it's been a while since I've been around here," he teased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra turned back for the house, bringing the thermos with her, and made quick work of grabbed a basket from one of the bottom cupboards and placed the bag with three bagels in it, the cream cheese - who could forget that? - and then filled a second thermos with orange juice, this one a bright yellow so they wouldn't confuse the two.

Heading out the door, she grabbed her hip length black pea coat and slipped it on, pulling the door shut behind her. A smile that seemed fixed upon her lips grew at the sight of him by the passenger door. She giggled softly and shook her head. "If I have to give you directions to the place you found for us, I might be a little disappointed in you, Mr. Harborson," she teased and settled on the passenger seat, then gave him a little wink.

It was so easy to fall back into their normal teasing, easy to forget the years that separated them, the circumstances that separated them. For the time being, in that moment, they were simply Cassandra and Owen again, and for her, that was all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I had to use my GPS just to find your house," the mage quipped back with a wink as he shut her door.

Owen was glad to see that Cassandra had not lost her sense of humor, and after settling gingerly into the driver's seat he took a moment to get comfortable. The Necromage cast a wary glance her way a moment later, however, as he reached into the pocket of his duster to pull out an unmarked bottle of opiate-based painkillers. He discreetly unscrewed the cap as he put the pickup in gear and downed twenty milligrams' worth before replacing the cap as he backed out of the driveway.

He knew Cass would understand if she forced him to explain it, but he didn't want to have to explain the reality that his existence was pain now. It had been pain for a long time, but the pills were usually not for a physical malady, though since his fight with Gravius they served well enough in that capacity. No, Owen took the oxycodone to escape from something far, far worse than the wear and tear the rigors of battle had placed on his body.

Proving that he was just teasing her, Owen showed no trouble in navigating them towards their favorite spot, though he didn't recognize some landmarks simply because of how much the town had grown. Ten years had done so much, and it had been even longer for him. He glanced over at Cass as he waited to hear the inevitable inquiries that would undoubtedly come if she had seen him down the pills.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra had seen him take the pills, but truly thought nothing of it. She could tell how much pain he was in the evening before standing in the lobby of the Butterfly. There were no questions that needed asked in regards to the pills, as she figured they were simply to help with the pain. He had been busy before coming to see her, and while it stung, she wouldn't say anything about that either. He had to adjust to just living life back in Duskmarsh before confronting anything from his past.

It was something she knew nothing about first hand, but could understand. There would be an adjustment period for the both of them, and she would take anything that came their way. She was strong enough after all she'd been through to help Owen through the adjustment period.

She gave him a little smirk when he parked the truck and then a very gentle nudge. "See? I knew you'd remember. Mr. 'I-doubt-I'll-find-it'." she teased and grabbed a blanket. "Bed of the truck?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen smirked over at her as he put the truck into park and shut off the engine. He gave her an affirmative nod before opening the door and hopping out to lower the tailgate and spread a blanket over the liner. Once that was situated, he took the basket and nestled it next to the wheel bump. Then, in a gesture that took him back to his last night of innocence, Owen took Cassandra's hand and effortlessly brought her up into the truck bed with him.

"I uh... make yourself at home..." he said nervously.

He hated how awkward things suddenly felt for him. Owen was not one who got caught up in feelings, not for a long time. The last time he had let himself do so, it had cost him everything but his life. Just the thought of opening himself up again was terrifying, even though he could not deny his love for the woman in the truck with him. His heart hammered against his breastbone as his thoughts raced with questions about what she might want from him.

Were the questions going to start now? Did he really want answers to hers? How much honesty could he give her without being too forthcoming, and where was the line drawn with lies of omission? His head throbbed again, but he was thankful when she took the lead and brought him gently down to sit beside her. He let his back rest against the rear window, stretching his legs out straight before him while biting off a groan of discomfort.

"Coffee?" he asked, reaching over to the basket with slightly shaking hands to grab the thermos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled up at him, taking his hand as he offered it. The memories that flashed in her mind of the last night they'd spent together in that truck bed were ones of promise and hope. And yet, even with the years that had passed since then, climbing up into the truck bed with him, she still felt the same hope for her future, one with Owen in it.

Some may call her foolish for settling in next to him, wanting to rekindle the flame that burned brightly between them. She smiled and accepted the thermos, spinning the lid to take a drink from it. "I definitely need all kinds of caffeine this morning."

She paused to take a longer drink, then reached over him, giving him a smile as she did so to grab the bag of bagels and pulled one from it. "Still the big eater you always were? I brought the two for you."

Too many questions, and not enough words to put them in. There was so much she wanted to know about his time gone, but didn't know how to word any of it. How to ask how deep into hell he got searching for Rachael. How to ask what kind of unspeakable horrors he had to face to bring her home. Plus there were the words that got stuck in her throat, terrifying her to speak them, to tell him how much she still loved him after a decade of being apart. To tell him that she'd never stopped loving him... but could he truly still feel the same? Sure he'd come to her the first chance he had, but was that out of courtesy?

Cassandra hated doubting herself, but she refused to read him and betray his trust like that. She'd done it a few times during high school, and he'd never once chastised her for it. Given everything she had gone through, he never once blamed her for double checking his aura when he would tell her something. But as adults? She knew better, knew better than to look for hidden meanings in Owen's words, he was more straight forward with her than any person had been - other than her own sisters.

But with a decade apart, and certain deceptions being needed on his journey... it caused a doubt within her that didn't sit well, and she was certain it showed in the way she picked tiny pieces off her bagel and thoughtfully chewed on them before giving her head a little shake and then leaned against his side, resting her head on his arm.

Maybe it would be better for him to ask the questions of her. Perhaps that would be easier to deal with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The slightest hint of a blush crept into Owen's cheeks as she mentioned his ravenous appetite from a bygone era, and could not help the nervous chuckle that escaped him. He gave her a curt, sheepish nod in reply. After all, how could he keep up his increased bulk if not with mountains of high-carb and protein rich foods? He took her offering and began to spread cream cheese over it with the same, familiar motion he always had without giving any thought to it.

It was curious, how the slightest gestures and most meaningless habits could be the biggest reminders of things long lost. The way Cassandra picked at her bagel like she was digging out imperfections told him something was bothering her, but that awareness was overridden simply by the fact it was something he remembered her doing. Seeing her do it again, after all these years, served as a painful reminder that he had missed the intervening time. He wished he had her ability to see the truth of things in other people, but it was not the gift the Creator had chosen to bestow upon him.

No, Owen had been forced to learn to read body language, the subtle cues of someone's eyes cutting to their off-hand when spinning a falsehood versus their dominant one when trying to remember a truth. Things like how a person's feet were oriented when speaking or the whether they absently touched their hair or fidgeted had been discovered through painful trial and error by the mage. Now, he couldn't help but put those lessons to use as he observed the woman beside him, and he hated himself for it.

There was no mistake, however, about what it meant when she brought her head to rest against his shoulder. Owen's heart immediately went from resting to a full on sprint, but it had nothing to do with sexual arousal. No, he was terrified of making the wrong move, saying the wrong thing, or doing something that would ruin what he felt was his last chance to be with the person that was meant for him. Why else would God bring them back together after all this time if not for another chance to be with each other?

He had as many questions for her as she had for him, but at the same time he wanted to know that she cared about where he had gone and what he had done. Owen felt in that the only one sharing their side of the story had been Cass, and that simply wouldn't do. Whether that was because she was afraid to ask him or if she simply didn't care couldn't yet be deciphered. All he knew was in that moment he simply wanted someone to speak.

"Uh, may I have a sip of the coffee?" he asked after swallowing a bite.

Way to chicken out, dude. THAT's how you want this to go? Really?

...I'm terrified of her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled up at him and handed over the thermos to him. "Pass me the juice?"

Yes, because that's what she really wanted to say. Why did this have to be so difficult? But how to form the questions. Cassandra picked at the bagel a full minute longer before she groaned and let out a little laugh.

"Does it have to be this difficult to just speak," she asked with humor in her voice. "It's not like we're strangers to each other... There's just so much I want to know, where you went, what you saw, how you found Rachael. How she's doing, when I can see her too. How you're truly coping with being home, but I don't..." she looked up at him, slight embarrassment in her gaze. A light blush spread over her cheeks and she shook her head slightly. "I just... I don't know how to ask any of it, though I know I pretty much just did. And I'm beginning to ramble like Xandra used to when she was nervous."

She gave him a playful glare, allowing it to fade into a smile. "You still make me nervous."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's hands still shook in subtle yet uncontrollable fashion as he got the thermos full of orange juice for her. Their fingers brushed as he passed it, and again he felt a surge of electricity that had nothing to do with her power move between them. He had nearly finished his bagel when she finally spoke again, and the suddenness of it caused him to start.

He was thankful he hadn't spilled the coffee all over both of them, but as her words spilled forth Owen felt foolish for his awkwardness. She was right, they did know each other, but it had been so long that she felt almost like a stranger to him. The more she detailed the things she wished to know, the more his anxiety went through the roof. He cut his gaze over at her when she mentioned rambling, catching her fake glare turning into a smile.

"You still make me nervous."

Oh, if she only knew how true those words were. Owen delayed by finishing the last bite of his bagel before answering, washing it down with another swig of coffee. He sighed and set it between his legs, still afraid to look at her.

"I want to tell you everything," he replied. "I just... I don't know where to begin. I'm not sure if you want to know all of it, but you deserve to. Some of the things that happened to me... you might not understand. Truth be told, it's a miracle we're sitting here right now, and I'm afraid of ruining a second chance I never thought I would get.

"I went... everywhere. To the ends of the earth and beyond, then back again. I saw-"

~ FLASH ~

"Because of your recklessness... Because you used your magic instead of your might to try and stop me... The woman you love will die, slowly. You will watch every last moment of it, and know that you could have saved her if you had only used your blade instead of your power..."

~ FLASH ~

Owen was frozen in place, a faraway, glazed look in his eyes as he held the thermos full of coffee at chest height as though preparing to take a drink. It was like something out of Pompeii, a perfectly preserved specimen in the moment just before death. Screams of anguish echoed in his ears. Erana's screams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled up at him as he began to speak, but then he rose the thermos and just stopped. He saw- and then nothing. Slowly the dawning realization came to her that there was something lingering in his mind, some truly unspeakable horror that lingered just beneath the surface. Something that he was still fighting with, and it truly terrified Cassandra to the think of that that horror could have been.

She started to reach out to him, but then pulled her hand back, thinking better of it. She knew what she was like when she flashed out to some unknown vision. She jumped, and she would feel awful if he jumped enough to get the hot coffee all over him. So instead, she reached for the thermos, guiding his hand down gently toward the truck bed. She shifted so she was on her knees facing him before she gently rest the palm of her hand on his cheek. "Owen?" she called out softly, moving into his line of sight to get him to focus on her. "Owen, what is it?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen continued to look straight ahead, but without seeing the open field or even the forest beyond. He was locked away in that place, Batiba standing behind him clad in red leather. Her lips were against his right ear as her whispered words washed over him. A very real shudder moved through Owen in his current place, Cassandra's initial call lost to the cosmos.

"You must be very, very still when I do this, my pet. If you jerk or wrench when my instrument touches your ear, it could cause irreprable damage to your brain. If you survive... you might just be a pet worth keeping..."

He remembered the touch of the breaker, simply because it wasn't something one could ever forget. As the memory brought the tool against the opening of his left ear, Owen nearly came out of his own skin. Suddenly he was warped back to reality, a sharp gasp accompanying the transition back to the real world.

Cass was suddenly kneeling in front of him, her soft hand on his cheek. A very real fear moved through Owen in that moment. What if he had lashed out? What if his flashback had been one of a battle fought long ago? What if he had mistaken Cass for an enemy and attempted to harm her? The simple thought that these things were possible made him want to vomit, and he could not keep her gaze as the possibility of what might have happened moved through his conscious mind.

The look of fear and worry on her countenance told him everything he needed to know. Cass could see that there was something off about him, that he wasn't quite right anymore. Owen suddenly felt naked, sick, a spectacle, and he hated it. He gave her an apologetic look, hoping she wouldn't run when he told her the truth.

"I'm sorry... I-I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered for fear of his voice breaking. "I'm not 'me' anymore. I try to be... I try so hard to just be who I was, but I think something inside is broken... I can't be the guy you loved in high school, Cass... he's dead. I... I don't know who I am anymore."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally Cassandra saw him come back to reality, and she gave him a soft smile as he did so. She smiled up at him, though she knew her worry for him shone through her eyes as she stared at him. As she heard him speak, she couldn't help moving onto his lap just to get closer to him. Tears formed in her eyes, remembering saying something very similar to him after Alec had broken her into something nearly unrecognizable.

"Owen, shh," she said softly. She could find a spot for her hands to still, from his neck to his chest, back to his jaw, then his shoulders. "Shh, no. I look into your eyes, Owen, and I see that Owen from a decade ago. I know that you've been through things I could not imagine. I wouldn't want to imagine, you went through Hell. Literally, and back out the other side. You survived whatever it was you went through because you were meant to. Because you're a survivor, and if you didn't believe that there was even a sliver of the boy you were, you wouldn't have come to me. I know that."

She shifted on his lap, scooting closer to him and made certain he would look at her. "Do you remember the first night I told you about Alec? How I said I was not the girl I put out to everyone else? You were the only one I could truly trust out of all of the Coven. You. You were the one to repair me and bring me back to me. Owen... baby..." she nearly sobbed on the word as tears fell from her eyes. "I'm here, and I think my subconscious knew that you weren't okay... last night-" she stopped a moment to compose herself and moved her hands back to his jaw, her thumbs moving over his cheeks again.

"Last night, my nightmare, I saw you being taunted by ghosts of your past, women who sent you off in a trigger the likes of which only I could possibly understand... but the end... Owen, you were holding a gun to your head. I swore I heard a gunshot and..." she swallowed roughly against the hiccup that tried to open the floodgates of her tears fully. "And then I woke up. Owen, I couldn't bear it if your ghosts drove you to that, you kept me from that, and I swear to you, I will keep you from that end."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Cassandra crawled into his lap, Owen could not help the intense war between the desire to push her away versus throwing his arms around her and simply letting her take everything from him. Despite his admission, he could not bring himself to bear his soul to her like that quite yet. She didn't deserve it. She deserved the one she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

He still couldn't look at her, even as her hands and voice moved over him in soothing fashion. His racing heart began to calm, and he simply let her words and touch ground him back in reality. The last place he wanted to visit was the past, but it felt like that was the only place he could go with her right now. What she said threatened to break him, but he held it in. Cass was right, because he had managed to partition the important parts of his mind when Batiba had taken everything else. The only thing that had allowed him to escape and overcome what he had was that deep down he never lost who he was.

Owen barely noticed that they were in a potentially compromising position, nor would he have cared. When she forced him to meet her gaze again, he struggled with all his might to simply not look away. Then she used a moniker he had not heard in a very, very long time, and again he nearly broke. To hear that angelic voice call upon him in that fashion was almost too much to take, but it wasn't nearly as bad as what came next.

The description of her nightmare told him that it was anything but. She had seen what his subconscious mind had tried to force him to do, what he had almost done to himself. Guilt tore at his chest, and again he tore his gaze from her. This time, he brought his forehead to rest in the crook of her neck as she barely choked back a sob, and each word made him hate himself more than the last. His hands moved to her back, simply using her to try and anchor to the reality of his current existence. She couldn't be real. This couldn't be real.

There was no way he could tell her the truth. Cass would have to go on thinking she had only seen a dream, a vision conjured by her own mind and not actual events that had transpired only a few miles away. He didn't know if she truly could keep him from eating the barrel of a gun, but he was willing to let her try. Owen slowly pulled back to look at her without meeting her gaze.

"I don't want to hurt you, Cass," he admitted. "I also don't want to be apart from you any more. You have so much good in your life, so much that you've built... I just want you to understand what you're asking to bring into it before we do this. I... want this... but I don't want to disrupt the life you've made for yourself."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as he spoke, threading her fingers through Owen's hair. She shook her head and pulled back, looking into his eyes. "Owen, I'm in this with you. Baby... baby I never stopped. Never stopped..." another hiccup sounded in her throat as she struggled to keep her tears at bay. "Owen I never stopped loving you. I don't think you have it within you to truly hurt me. What I've built for myself, there's always been something missing within it." She made certain to have his gaze before she spoke again. "You. I've been missing you. Having you back in my life would complete it in a way I could never do on my own."

She shifted again and felt the thermos shift. She reached down, and made a move to place it back into the the basket but as she transitioned it to her left hand, it slipped and in an instant she knew she'd made a huge mistake. "Oh God," she exclaimed, and shifted off of him, scrambling to help him with the shirt. The liquid was still hot, and she could feel it as it seeped onto her skirt as well. "Owen, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Owen simply could not comprehend the words Cassandra was speaking to him. The way her fingernails moved over his scalp as she threaded his hair sent shivers up and down his spine, and it all just seemed too good to be true. His pulse quickened, anxiety that it might all truly be a dream building panic within him. Everything she said was more than he could ever have hoped to hear, and it would have broken him into sobs were it not for what happened next.

The fact it was not a dream became a very sudden, harsh reality as scaling hot liquid splashed over his chest and stomach when she spilled the coffee. With his tolerance to pain, Owen barely felt it, but understood Cassandra's reaction. He let her move off of him, reaching up to take her wrists gently into his much larger hands. Owen offered her a smile, feeling his heart warm at the realization that she was here and she wanted him to be a part of her life. Regardless of hot coffee drenching one of his favorite shirts, he could have asked for anything more in that moment.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," he assured her with a knowing smile. "You were always a klutz," he chuckled. "I think I might have an extra shirt in the truck, though I don't keep any spare skirts in there."

Owen gave Cass a wink. He groaned softly as he got to his feet, the real pain of his prior ordeal far outweighing what the coffee had caused him. As he made his way around to the front of the vehicle, Owen unbuttoned the flannel and pulled it off to leave only the black tank underneath. It too was soaked in the front, however, and a moment later he had pulled it over his head and draped both garments over the lip of the truck bed.

Rippling muscle honed from over two decades of football followed by endless combat and training covered his torso. Covering that muscle, however, was the physical evidence of what he had endured during the time he was gone. Thick scars criss-crossed his back from shoulder to hip, and it was obvious from their number, shape, and frequency that they were not from battle. He had been helpless when they were given to him. They ranged from long and puckered to thin and precise, but each one was absolutely deliberate to the point there was as more scar tissue than healthy skin.

The Necromage didn't even think about it it had been so long, but had not taken into consideration the fact that Cass had never seen them nor would expect them. Even as he turned to face her with a fresh white t-shirt there were more. Those on his chest and arms were not so numerous, and these were different. They had been earned in battle, and were clearly distinct for what sort of injury he had suffered. A few marked gunshots that were dangerously close to vital areas, while others told stories of deep stab wounds and even shrapnel penetration. His body was the physical evidence of the damage to his mind, and upon seeing the look on Cassandra's face Owen realized his mistake.

Shit...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra paused in trying to rip Owen's shirt from his body, then laughed softly as he reminded her that her klutz attack was nothing new. She sat back on her heels and shrugged lightly, pulling the blanket they had been sitting on up to mop up the coffee. She giggled as he mentioned not having a spare skirt in the truck. "Well, I'd have to wonder a few things if you did," she commented, moving to make sure no more of the liquid remained, then couldn't help herself looking over Owen's torso as he pulled the black tank off.

Owen always was handsome, but there was something about how he had filled out while becoming a man in Hell...

The line of thinking stopped cold the second she truly caught sight of Owen's back. Where what was one flawless smooth skin lay layer upon layer of scars. The breath caught in her throat, effectively cutting off the slight giggle she still had as she had been mopping the coffee. Her jaw dropped, and slowly a shaking hand rose to cover her lips, becoming firmer against her mouth as he turned and she took in his front.

Her heart broke and she caught a soft cry before she screamed in grief and rage. Electricity sparked just once in her eyes before her grief took over her and she dropped back down against her heels. "Owen..." She whispered out, looking up into his eyes to see the regret there. He didn't want her to see them, but why? "Oh, Owen... What.... who...."

She couldn't finish her questions she had started, her mind moving too fast to full form them before it raced on to the next one. She wanted to kill whomever had harmed the love of her life, but at the same time hoped Owen had done that already in vengeance for harming him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen suddenly felt like a spotlight shone directly on him, but less like an award ceremony and more akin to walking onstage at the freakshow. His skin burned with shame, and he felt like a twisted spectacle. Cass looked at him like the others had with only one difference. There was no disgust in her eyes. He knew it was more than likely she could simply hide it better, but what he wasn't expecting to see was the anger.

Electricity sparking in her emerald gaze made him flinch, and for the briefest of moments he flashed back to Batiba in her white leather, striking him over and over and over again in a fit of rage. The power of that vision overlayed with Cassandra's made him take a tentative step back from her. However, that passed as quickly as Cassandra's display of power. The grief that followed punched Owen right in the heart, and he felt a deep sense of guilt for something he could not possibly have prevented.

"I uh... I-I..." he stammered, unable to form the words needed to answer her question. How could he? How could he tell her that he had been the literal pet of a demon, that he had spent more than half a decade in a prison where time literally did not exist? Owen wanted to run, to hide his scars from her and everyone else until the end of time, if only to never see that look she gave him again.

"I'm sorry..." he finally got out. It was all he had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra swallowed roughly as she heard him stammer, then scrambled up and over the edge of the bed and dropped down in front of him. To hear him apologize, it was not what she wanted, never what she could have ever expected from him. "Baby, no..." she breathed out, moving to wrap her arms around him, pressing her palms to the scars over his shoulder blades. "Don't, Owen. Don't apologize, baby."

She wanted to ask what happened, who had done something to outrageous to him. Who could have been so demented as to have harmed him, and put him in the state of helplessness from how clean they had looked where he would not have fought back. How? The breaking of him must have been torturous, and she was furious at whomever had done it. Damn them to the darkest pits of hell.

"Please don't apologize, and you don't... you don't have to talk about it until you're absolutely ready. Okay?"

She moved one hand from his back to press against his chest, finding one that was obviously some sort of puncture wound, too dangerously close to his heart. Her fingertips gently moved over it before she lifted herself on her tiptoes to press a kiss to the scar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took every ounce of self-control Owen had mustered over the past fifteen years not to recoil from her as she reached for him. His faith in her was rewarded as she embraced him, though he knew she had to feel his heart slamming against his sternum like a jackhammer from the stress the whole situation was putting him under. To feel her hands against the bare scars on his shoulders sent a shiver through him. How was she not revolted by the feel of them, the sight of them?

She didn't want him to apologize, but he had promised this body to her a long time ago. Then he had gone off, and someone else had taken what was intended as a gift for her and in his eyes ruined it. It was this perception, and her subsequent reaction that drove the apology. What made him feel even worse was that in some sick, twisted way he had loved the person who had done it to him.

He put his arms around her in return, glad that she could not see the silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Owen hated what he had become. He felt ugly, hideous- and then she kissed one of the scars on his chest. Owen looked down at her incredulously, completely taken aback by her actions. Despite how painful the memories were, he wanted to tell her everything. He would just have to find a way to do it.

"If I had been thinking, I wouldn't-"

No, that wasn't right. She didn't want to hear that. Cass definitely didn't want him to apologize for letting her see him. After all, it would have happened eventually.

"It was my fault," he attempted again. "If I'd just-"

He stopped again. That was another apology. She wasn't interested in apologies. Owen felt himself starting to work towards a panic attack, but tried to swallow it back down.

"I... I got captured," he finally admitted. "I was taken to a place where time does not exist. Somewhere between five to seven years... I lost count... the ones on my back came from there."

There was a lot more to it than that, but Owen wasn't about to get into it right now. He suddenly felt twenty years older, and leaned heavily against her with a sigh. Owen had nothing left in that moment. He didn't know where to go or what to do, only that everything hurt both inside and out and he was ready for it to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra could very clearly hear his heart jackhammering against his sternum, but she didn't know why. Was it fear? Was he still scared of her? He'd taken a step back from her hadn't he? Regardless, she wasn't going to let Owen hide from her, just as he never let her hide from him. She listened to him start twice her heart breaking a little more each time.

When he finally admitted what had happened to him, she hugged him just a little tighter. "It's okay. Just remember, it's me here with you, okay? It's me." Her words were to serve as a reminder that not only was he not back where he had been captured, but that she did know what it was like to be broken, and that he helped to heal her from it. It was her turn to help him, and she would do everything in her power to help him overcome the trauma of the last- well for him it had been fifteen years, hadn't it?

When she felt him lean against her she shifted to allow him to lean on the truck as well, unable to hold his weight as well as she may have a decade ago. He had a considerable amount of muscle weight that had been added to his frame. "This is me, baby, just focus on that, okay? I'm right here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The way Cassandra held him was something Owen didn't even know that he had missed over all these years. Her small hands against the scars of his back made him shudder, but he wasn't sure if it was out of comfort or fear of her revulsion. Slowly as she spoke his heart began to calm down, the pace inching further and further away from a full sprint.

Owen realized that he was putting more weight on Cass than she could handle when she adjusted to use the truck to help support him, and didn't remain there long before pulling back. He refused to look at her, too overcome by the emotional turmoil of everything that was being thrown at him. Her words warmed his heart and made him feel safe for the first time in years, but he knew she deserved a lot more than that.

He put enough space between them to pull the t-shirt over his head, seeking to cover up the disgusting marks as quickly as possible. Regardless of what Cass said or did, Owen simply wanted to keep them hidden from her sight. The reaction they garnered from her was not what he wanted, nor did he want that to be the focus of their relationship.

"I know, Cass... and it means more to me than you could... well actually no I'm sure you get it exactly," he corrected. "I'm... I didn't want today to be like this. I wanted to show you a good time, but like everything else it just got fucked up," he added with a mirthless chuckle. "I guess breakfast is over."

He wanted her arms around him, to have his head on her chest as they simply held each other like they used to for hours on end. With everything that had happened, though, Owen didn't know how to ask for such a thing anymore. Wouldn't it be too soon? Would she try to initiate physical intimacy? That thought alone was terrifying. Owen associated sex with pain, and to even think about it being like that with Cass would ruin one of the few good memories he had left in life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra wanted to reach back out to him when he pulled away from her, but she allowed him the space he needed to pull his shirt on. She turned her compassionate gaze onto him and smiled softly. She drew in a deep breath, and reacted out to take his hand, shaking her head slightly. "No, I wasn't done eating, were you? There's so much to talk about, it's going to take time, I know this. We'll have these lapses, with everything the both of us have been through in the last..." she trailed off, wanting to say 'decade' but it had been much more than that for him, hadn't it? "In the years we've been apart."

She held on tightly to his hand and pulled him to the tailgate, smiling softly. "Come on, we can salvage this. It may not be as comfortable because I went and spilled the coffee and used the blanket to mop it up. But we can still have breakfast together."

Cassandra let go of his hand and braced herself on the tailgate before hopping up onto the edge, holding her hand out for him. "Okay? Breakfast is still on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen shrugged. "I suppose not," he replied softly. "Thought you might have lost your appetite though. I've got another blanket, hang on."

He procured it from the same area he had gotten the spare shirt, and after quickly exchanging the soiled one for it, climbed back into the truck bed with her. Personally, he had lost his appetite, but he wouldn't begrudge Cassandra if she wanted to eat. Owen was tired, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Since he wasn't hungry, he let his head come to rest against the side of hers with a soft sigh.

"Rachael would love to see you, I think," he said out of nowhere after Cass went back to picking at her bagel. "While I'm out in the woods, you should go see her if you have the chance. Just uh... let her come to you about certain things. She hasn't even opened up to me much yet."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra shook her head in regards to his comment about her losing her appetite. She wondered briefly if he thought that because of the scars, which was a ludicrous assumption on his part considering the scar she had running from her shoulder down to her third rib from being thrown through a table. The way she'd reacted to him completely seeing it, or any of the bruises that was still left green and yellowing on her skin from Alec. She understood the thought process, and it saddened her for him.

While yes she did pick at her bagel again, it wasn't nerves this time, it was simply because she wanted to say more but could find absolutely no words to speak. She leaned back against him, and couldn't help missing the way the would cuddle together. Despite the sun shining in the blue sky, the wind was chilly, and she briefly thought that perhaps she shouldn't have chosen the skirt. Even though she had mostly chosen it because she knew Owen would like it, and it was comfortable.

A cold chill ran through her as he spoke again and nodded as she scooted down to lay on her back in the bed, smiling invitingly up at him for him to join her. She glanced up at the puffy white clouds that meandered above them in the sky and smiled as she tilted her head, trying to discern a shape. "I'd love to see Rachael again, she was always so very patient with me in high school. Patient and yet blunt. Something I always appreciated from her."

Melinda was going to be at the Harborson household in two days after school for a while, so perhaps she could talk Leandra into giving up some time with her boyfriend to tend the Inn for her until Alys arrived so she could see Rachael.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen looked down at Cassandra as she lay down against the truck bed, and more memories came to the forefront of his mind. The difference was, this time they were about her. He saw her shiver and frowned. Owen sometimes forgot that most people weren't as immune to the cold as he was, and quickly made a decision.

"I'll be just a moment."

He opened the rear window from where he sat, sliding it aside so that he could reach the duster within. Owen drew it out and used it to gently drape over Cassandra, wanting to ensure she didn't catch a chill from the autumn air. Another deep, aching pulse ran through what felt like his entire skeleton, reminding him that his pills hadn't kicked in yet. They were right there within reach in the pocket of his coat, but Owen still didn't want to push his luck.

Once he was sure she would be warm enough, Owen scooted forward and laid down to join her. He wanted to put his head against her chest, and after everything she had shown him already decided that she would be okay with it. As she looked up at the clouds, Owen draped an arm over her middle and brought his head to rest against her breast with a heavy, deflating sigh.

As he melted into her, suddenly everything that was wrong in Owen's universe felt right. Her petite, slender frame had been altered by the onset of motherhood, and it had made her hips and bust fill out. He could feel the difference as he cuddled up to her side, but paid none of it any mind. They had both changed, physically, mentally, and spiritually. None of it mattered to him as much as the fact that she still felt wonderful against him, and that he could simply close his eyes and relax against her.

"She always was with me, too. Just be glad you were never on the receiving end when she'd lose her temper at the dojo." There was a moment of silence, then: "I never thought I would see her again," he whispered honestly. "When... When I was in that place, I never thought I would see anyone again. Would you believe this truck is more comfortable to me now than my own bed? I can't... I can't hardly sleep anymore because it's too soft."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra watched him closely, smiling gratefully as he pulled his jacket from the cab. she watched him closely as he scooted down to lay against her, and held her arm out, welcoming him against her. Slowly, she drew her fingertips through his hair, letting her nail rake his scalp. The gentle movements soothed her own heart beat of having him so near, but also served to calm him, and she knew it. She allowed her eyes to drift closed and took in a deep cleansing breath before he spoke.

She smiled and pressed a kiss into his hair. "It's easy to lose hope when you're in a hopeless place. We never gave up on you," she whispered back. "Maybe you need a new mattress, or just need to slowly allow yourself to enjoy softness again." She couldn't help the smile she gave, and hugged him to her as best she could. "This is always a good start."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold when Cass threaded her fingers through his hair. It was obvious she had not forgotten the little things about him, and her intent instantly became truth as his eyes drifted shut. A low, rumbling, contented groan vibrated from deep within his chest as he melted against her, and for the first time in ages he felt like he was truly home.

Slowly but surely, the effects of the drugs had started to kick in. His physical pain was such that the oxycodone didn't give him the high it usually did, and had Cass not been present he would have lit up his second favorite painkiller just to make up the difference. All things considered, however, her tender caress and soothing voice was such that he didn't need it. Cassandra took him back to a place in time before everything went to hell, before he spent half a decade sleeping on a cold stone floor or worse hanging from chains suspended from the ceiling.

He nodded in response to her words, sighing softly as he felt her kiss against his hair. "The floor works for now, though I could get used to this. Anything's better than cold stone. It sure freaked mom out the first time she came to check on me though. Thought I'd fallen out of bed... I'm lucky I wore a shirt to bed. I-I... uh, never intended for you to see... not so soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped thinking about Paige walking in to see Owen on the floor. But his comments about her not seeing the scars left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and she knew her breath hitched. "Don't you dare apologize," she said softly, giving his scalp a little massage before resuming the stroking.

"I'd never intended only anyone seeing the bruises or fully explaining my own scar. It's a part of you Owen. Unfortunately scars don't heal the way bruises do, but the wounds and causes of them will linger. It's truly to be expected. It's horrible, and I wish I could take every one of them away, if only to take the pain they caused you getting them."

She fell into silence, letting her words sink in, and hoped he understood her intention. But just to push the point home a bit more, she pressed another kiss to his hair and moved her fingertips to the back of his neck. "Do you remember when you first saw my scar up close? I thought it disfigured me. I thought it was horrific, a reminder of my failure. Do you remember what you told me? They were words I held onto while you were gone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen tensed at Cassandra's words, hating himself for the reflex ground into him by Batiba after grueling years at her feet and in her bed. A moment later, however, he relaxed as she reminded him that a long time ago she had been in the same place. Perhaps not physically, but emotionally and spiritually Cassandra had been broken. She gave Owen the credit for rebuilding her, but she was still a whole person before he'd gotten there. Cass had simply forgotten how to fly, and Owen had been more than happy to show her through her own strength.

He nodded in response to her question, pushing aside what she said about his own scars for the time being. "I never forgot... they tried to make me forget... everything. They wanted me to forget who I was, you, Rachael, but I locked those parts of myself away. I gave them everything else, but they didn't break who I am. Then, when the time came... I unlocked that part of my mind and it all came back. I used it to escape, to find Rach... and come back to you."

He let out a slow, shuddering sigh against Cassandra's chest, goosebumps forming on his skin as her touch moved over the back of his neck. Pleasant shivers ran the length of his spine from that contact, and something deep down made him crave more of it. Owen had forgotten what it felt like to be touched in any sort of pleasant fashion, having only known pain and torture for so long. It was like a drug far more powerful than any pill he could take, and he was instantly addicted.

"They could never take you away from me," he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra kept her eyes closed as she listened to him, slowly moving her fingers through his hair from his temple, to the back of his neck. she hummed softly, content when he spoke of using the memories of who he truly was to break free of his captors. He was so much stronger than he gave himself credit for. It was the message in his words to her that kept her going. That her strength lied also in the moments of her perceived greatest weakness. He kept her going, even if neither of them truly acknowledged it.

"Of course they couldn't," she said softly, leaning into him, getting even more comfortable than she already was against him.

They'd whispered promises of forever the last time they were in that truck bed together. The night he slipped a piece of tied string around her left ring finger. She may have only been sixteen at the time, but the witch knew where her heart lie, and where it always would. Even if she couldn't see clearly all the time, she knew her forever lied in Owen, and always would.

The years separating them wouldn't have done the damage his captors may have hoped for. He was still her Owen, no matter the damage that lay on his bare skin, within, underneath it all, he was the same person. The same vulnerable boy, and she the same vulnerable girl. Despite the way time had changed the both of them, laying with him the way she was in the back of his truck, in the middle of an open field, she'd never felt so safe or so loved in her life.

Slowly her breathing evened out, and Cassandra fell into a dreamless sleep, one she so desperately needed after the night she'd had. Though her slumber was dreamless, she knew she couldn't say the same for Owen as she woke what had to be a couple of hours later, still wrapped in his arms, but feeling his body twitch in a way she could only remember feeling a couple of times during high school. Owen was caught in a nightmare.

She frowned softly, and began stroking his hair again, calling softly to him so as not to startle him awake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Daniel
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Page 5

Owen shuddered against Cassandra as he dreamt of indescribable horrors. The things that haunted his subconscious had placed Cass in Erana's stead, being stripped and beaten and raped by Nephilim as Batiba dragged her implement of torture over his skin, touching the exact nerve clusters needed to keep his eyes forced open. In the waking world it barely registered as anything more than incoherent groans and muscle spasms, but just when he thought he couldn't take anymore something pulled him away.

The mage was slowly pulled out of his nightmare, his vision blurry from tears as he was drawn awake by Cassandra's gentle caress. At the last moment between sleep and conscious thought he realized her blouse was soaked with his tears and gasped, instinctively trying to move away from her. His face was red with embarrassment, and he wanted to find a rock to crawl under.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... Ugh I've made a mess of you," he rambled, trying to hide his face and dry his eyes at the same time. "What time is it?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Owen tried to move away from her, Cassandra tightened her hold, she wouldn't let him pull away. She knew what he needed in that moment, to be reminded when and where he was. There were many times she'd been woken from nightmares held tightly by his arms. He wouldn't let her pull away from him, and she wouldn't allow it either. She sat up with him, popping her shirt away from her body a couple of times with a small smile. "It's alright."

She reached out and cupped his cheek in her palm, smiling up at him. "I soaked your shirts enough in high school, about time you got to get me back." she winked at him and tilted her head slightly. "Looks like it's getting to be about three. That's my guess, not too entirely late. Did you have an appointment somewhere?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra holding fast to him was not what Owen was expecting, but it was in no way unwelcome. He let her hold him against her, moving his face to the crook of her neck as he tried to calm his rapidly racing heart. He shook his head softly at her question, happy to keep wrapped up in her arms for now. The dream had been about her, and Owen swore if he could he'd never sleep again to avoid having another one like that.

"No... Just thought you might be getting hungry is all. Shouldn't your daughter be getting out of school soon? Do we uh, need to go pick her up? Or you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra shook her head and smiled up at him. "She'll be going to the Inn today and spending time with mom. I'll... I'll need to get back home by six though for dinner with her. I'm game for a late lunch. The cafe in town? Or too populated?"

If there was one thing she didn't want to do, it was overwhelm him with welcomes and stares from the people in town. It wasn't something he needed if it would make him retreat, she didn't want that for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

n uncomfortable shift ran through Owen at the mention of any sort of crowd. His whole approach since being back was keeping as far away from places where people might recognize him, which unfortunately for a state championship quarterback in a small town that hadn't seen one since wasn't easy. However, he figured that with Cass with him it might just be okay to run into a few people.

"The cafe sounds good, actually... if we can get the back corner booth," he replied. His stomach rumbled a little, bringing forth a chuckle. "I guess that bagel wasn't enough by itself."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra laughed softly and nodded in agreement. "Table in the back, and you always were a ravenous eater." she said with a grin, then started to lean in to kiss him like she always had, slowing to press her lips to his cheek instead. She lingered there a moment before she pulled back, holding his gaze a moment before she scooted out of the bed of the truck after helping to gather everything up and get it back into the cab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's kiss against his cheek brought a blush to the surface of Owen's skin, and he couldn't help the fluttering feeling that moved through his insides. He wanted more, oh how he wanted more, but it simply was not something he was ready for yet. A very prominent throb of pain pulsed through him all of a sudden, reminding him of how long it had been since he'd taken any pain medication. After helping gather everything back up into the truck, he settled onto the bench seat and downed two more oxycodone, noticing that Cass sat in the middle rather than the passenger side.

That small gesture warmed his heart, and he couldn't resist slipping an arm around her shoulders as they drove back into town. Owen had no difficulty finding the old diner, but when he saw the parking lot was almost full to capacity he felt his heart stop. Despite this, the mage pulled into one of the lone free spaces next to a DeLorean of all things and parked.

He had to get out. He had to walk in there and do what he said he would. Owen refused to disappoint Cass, but his legs suddenly wouldn't work. He couldn't move, breathe, or even feel a pulse within himself. Just the thought of stepping over the threshold and everyone looking at him, probably recognizing him, filled him with utter terror. Owen had always been a private person, and the prospect of what he was about to do filled him with more fear than facing down a monster from the Abyss.

It wasn't until he felt Cassandra unbuckle her seatbelt that he realized he still gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, and forced himself to let go. At the same moment he realized it had been almost a full minute since he'd taken a breath, and his cardio-pulminary processess jump started like an old tractor with a dead battery. The muscle pumping blood through his body hammered rapidly within his chest, and a roaring filled his ears like a tropical storm. With an unsteady hand he shut off the engine and pulled the keys out before fumbling with the door handle for a moment as he tried to get ahold of it.

Owen hated how his actions must have made him look, especially to Cass. The boy she had known had been the epitome of confidence. Every Power 5 College had offered him a scholarship. Everyone in town loved him. He was a straight-A student, and despite his bad-boy persona he was the definition of an All-American and a loyal friend. To be reduced to what he was now, despite accomplishing something almost no one else could have... he felt like a failure to the people who had idolized him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra couldn't keep herself away from him, after sleeping next to him in the bed of his truck she almost craved his nearness. She had to sit in the middle of the truck and couldn't help the grin that settled on her lips as he wrapped his arm around her. The witch leaned into him, her head on his shoulder as he drove. Contentment flowed through her from him and she basked in it.

It didn't last long as he pulled into the parking lot, his apprehension was clear as day, and Cassandra couldn't blame him. However, she allowed her strength and peace she found with him flow from her, hoping he would feed off of it instead of the emotions that flooded through him then. She gave him a full five minutes before she unbuckled and slowly slid toward the door, recognizing Emmit's car anywhere.

She paused in reaching for the door handle and reached out to take his hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Owen, breathe with me. I am right here with you. No one will bother you as long as I'm near you, I swear it." She took in long deep breaths, hoping to help calm him with her coaching. "Breathe. Together, we'll get through this together."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only because he was actively thinking about Cassandra's presence that he touch did not cause him to start, but he squeezed her hand back when she did. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose at her urging, wishing for a moment that she hadn't pulled away from him such as she had. She had a knack for being able to know just what he needed, and Owen closed his eyes to focus on trying to let her help him. Through her gentle coaxing his breathing slowed and evened out before it could turn into a full blown panic attack, and her words kept him grounded in the present rather than letting him slip into the past.

"Right... together..." he whispered.

And together they exited the truck and approached the door, each step sent not only physical pain through Owen's entire body but mounting nervousness from his core to his extremeties. Like the gentleman he'd always been, Owen opened the door and held it so for Cass, keeping his eyes focused on her as he followed her into the diner.

It was full of people. A lot of them Owen recognized, and many of those staring at him in shock when they saw him. He did his best to ignore their gawking, but it made his blood pressure skyrocket along with his pulse. Owen kept ahold of Cassandra's hand, letting her lead them to the secluded corner booth in the back away from everyone. Their eyes pierced through him like spears as he passed them, and by the time they sat down along the same seat with their backs to the establishment's residents Owen was a nervous wreck beneath the surface. Outwardly, he was calm, hiding his anxiety beneath a calm, collected exterior like he had done so for so many years. Truthfully, he wanted to forego even sprinting out the door for leaping through the window, running to his truck, and never looking back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra reached out as she passed him when he opened the door for her and took hold of his hand, holding tightly as they moved through the cafe. She glared at anyone that dared to gawk at the fact that Owen was home. While it was shocking to most, Cassandra would die before she let anyone made him feel like a walking side show. She knew how she'd felt after everything came out with Alec, everyone treating her with kid gloves, as if she were fragile and could break any moment.

While sometimes, they were right, and she felt on the verge of shattering into a thousand pieces, she didn't want to be treated as such. Owen never did that with her, instead he helped her stand on her own two feet and stare down those that would treat her like a porcelain doll like the fierce woman she'd grown into.

She wouldn't let him feel fragile just like he never allowed her to feel it. She knew he had his gaze straight ahead and so didn't see her glaring off would-be gawkers. She gave a soft smile to her sister who sat with her own boyfriend in the cafe, another hometown hero who'd come back just as changed as Owen seemed to be. Leandra, ever the one to forgo covert measures gave her two thumbs up which earned the younger woman an eyeroll for her actions.

Once seated, Cassandra kept hold of his hand and leaned against his side. "No one will bother us," she said softly as activity seemed to resume as quickly as it had ceased when they walked in. "Breathe, baby, you know small town folk, they need something to talk about. Don't give them a word."

Yes, while Owen seemed cool and collected, Cassandra could read him like an open book. She could feel the anxiety rushing off of him in waves, and if she could, it would make it more difficult to keep the tongues from wagging. His stance was more rigid than he normally would have been, and while she would never blame him for it, she knew some of the darker rumors floating in people's minds. She would never let Owen be privy to them, but some of those darker minded jerks were seated in the cafe at that moment, and she didn't want to give them fuel for their fire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The only anchor that kept Owen rooted in place in that moment was Cassandra. He hadn't even noticed his old friends Emmit and Leandra, but it was doubtful he could have given them the warm greeting they deserved. When she spoke, he simply nodded. Owen hadn't even realized that again he'd been holding his breath, but there Cass was paying more attention to the processes necessary to his survival than his own subconscious mind.

He took a deep breath, putting on a soft smile as the waitress approached to take their drink orders. Owen was unable to resist giving her a little nudge and a private grin.

"If I order coffee, are you going to spill it on me again, darlin?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Oh my, Owen Harborson!" the waitress exclaimed, before promptly covering her mouth with her fingers.

She was a much older woman, with kind eyes and lines that spoke of a hard life lived in a small town. Owen had always liked her, and could remember visiting the cafe as a child with his dad and being served by her. Out of all the people who could have served them, he was glad it was her. However, that did not stop him from flinching almost imperceptibly at the sudden exclamation.

"I'm sorry!" she added more quietly. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Miss Betty," Owen replied politely. "I'll have a sweet tea with lemon, please."

"Of course, sweetheart," Betty replied. She took Cassandra's drink order as well before looking back to him with a sincere smile. "I'll get these right to you. Welcome home, sweetie."

She bustled off to do so, and Owen suddenly wished he hadn't sat on the outside edge of the booth. It was about as positive an interaction as he could have hoped for, but that didn't make it any less awkward for him. Betty's unintentional exclamation had focused more of the establishment's attention on him, and it felt like he was standing in front of an open airlock exposed to the void of the cosmos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled as Owen spoke to the waitress. The woman had been at the cafe since both of them were kids, and she'd always been more like the grandmother to the entire town. Though her exclamation brought some glances toward them, a quick look over her shoulder made half of them turn back around to mind their own business. She normally loved living in a smaller town, especially among those who understood that some strange things went on.

Usually the residents brushed off those weird happenings, especially where the Coven was concerned. Given the history they had with the town, protecting it over the years, and averting catastrophes, they'd earned the right to have the locals turn the other cheek when it came to oddities.

But when people came up missing, like Owen and Rachael, or dead like too many of the Coven, tongues wagged, the gossip lines and rumor mills opened. A majority of the time those gossip mongers spread stories that spoke of 'inside jobs', corruption, and things much better left unsaid. Cassandra supposed now with Owen and Rachael back home, she would hear more about the losses she'd suffered four years prior rather than whispers of the love of her life running off with his own sister.

Anxiety gripped her heart, and she brought Owen's hand she still held to her chest first to place over her heart and then the back of his hand to her lips to press a kiss there. She smiled softly at him, though she couldn't hide the sadness that lingered just behind the happiness.

"Small town people, baby," it was all she could say in that moment, and she hoped it helped to explain not only her actions since they walked in, but the grief she felt as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gesture of Cassandra placing Owen's hand to her heart followed by her lips set him at ease. His heartbeat slowed to a more manageable level, and even the few beads of sweat that had begun to form upon his brow evaporated. He nodded in response to her explanation, and felt a might better about being able to deal with the current situation with her at his side.

"You're right, of course, darlin."

Owen looked over at her then, noting the stress lines in her forehead. He realized that he had been selfish, only concerned with his own issues without any regard to Cassandra's. It couldn't be easy for her to be a single mother in a small town setting, especially when the father was nowhere to be found. He gave her hand a soft squeeze, leaning over to place a tender kiss on her cheek before Miss Betty returned with their drinks.

"Here you are, darlings," she said warmly, setting their drinks down. "So what can I get for you to eat?"

"I'll have a uh... a big barn burger with everything but no ketchup, mayo, or mustard," Owen said, then looked over at Cass. He gave her a wink before continuing. "An an extra cheesey grilled cheese sandwich for the lady here."

Miss Betty grinned as she finished taking the order and scurried off, allowing Owen to turn back to Cass so that he didn't have to see any of the idle stares pointed their direction. He wanted to do something to ease her anxiety as she was his, to take away the pain she felt. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to even fix himself then, but he would do anything to help her.

"I... I hope that was okay," he said. "I remember you used to always order that when we were dating."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled, a small blush forming on her cheeks as he gave her a kiss. She couldn't help the little butterflies she felt as he ordered for her. After all the time he'd been gone and he still remembered one of her favorites. As Miss Betty turned from the table and he turned back to her she gave him a bright smile. "Of course it was okay. It sounds perfect right about now. I'm glad you remembered."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mage smiled with a little bit of pride, leaning over to bring his lips just barely to the opening of her ear. With all the tension in him because of his circumstance, he decided to ease some of it by teasing her a little. His voice was deep, gutteral, and almost breathlessly desperate as his lips ever so slightly brushed against Cassandra's ear when he spoke.

"I remember a lot more about you than you think, darlin... I tried to remember everything about you..."

He pulled back a little sheepishly. The playful side of Owen hadn't gone anywhere. It had simply been buried beneath layers and years of trauma and torment. Cassandra, however, seemed to have a way to bring it out of him in a way nobody else ever could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Page 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A shiver moved through Cassandra as he spoke so closely to her ear, and the images his breathy voice conjured for her was enough to make her entire body blush. As he pulled back, she could see the sheepish look in his eyes, and smirked up at him, leaning up to speak quietly to him as well.

"Trust when I say, every memory of you has not been lost over the years we've been apart, baby. I put great effort into making absolutely certain nothing about you escaped my memory."

She giggled softly and started to pull back when she sensed a body closing in on the table. She pulled back, ready to glare them off when she saw Caleb. Relief in the male witch's eyes, Caleb made his way to the table, opening his arms as he moved.

"This one, you'll want to greet..." she said softly and nodded to her coven member.

"Owen... Man, it's about time you came home," Caleb said softly, knowing that his display was bringing attention to the situation, but he didn't truly give a shit. He knew the bullshit that had gone through people's minds, having been the one to discuss it with Cassandra so she could be prepared. He was showing those idiots that they were wrong, Owen always had been a brother to him, always would be a brother to him.

Fuck the gossip mongers, bored small town assholes is all they were.

His brother was home, that's all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's reply sent a pleasant shiver went up and down his spine as it recalled a singular, specific memory about the one night they shared before he left. It had been the only time they had become one flesh, and it was the most wonderful experience in Owen's memory. He had asked to marry her, a poor farmboy with a cannon arm not even out of high school, and she had agreed. They had made love and everything was right with the world for one night before everything went to hell.

Owen felt the presence of someone coming up behind them before Cass spoke, but was thankful she did as his hand instinctively drifted to the magnum revolver concealed at his hip. When he saw that it was Caleb, however, he allowed his hand to rest once more on the table. The mage mentally re-checked his aura spells to make sure he still registered as mortal before offering his old friend a welcoming, practiced smile as he reached up to shake his hand.

"Caleb, it's good to see you, bro," Owen said sincerely. "Please, have a seat for a few minutes?" he added, gesturing to the empty booth across from them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb grinned as he shook Owen's hand and slid into the booth with them. "Man, it's been too long." He looked back and forth between Owen and Cass a moment, a smile spreading on his lips. "Nothin's changed, has it? You're home what... just about a week, and there's nothing that can come between you two. Not even a table."

A blush moved across Cassandra's face and she leaned into Owen's side, resting her head on his delt. "Can you blame me?"

Caleb shook his head, thinking about everything the Coven leader had been through since Owen had left. "Not at all, girlie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen slipped an arm around Cassandra's waist as she leaned into him, feeling his heart skip a beat as she brought her head to rest against him. She felt so good against his side that he almost forgot that Caleb was there for a moment, then remembered his manners. He regarded his friend with a chuckle at his words and shook his head.

"What can I say? She's one of a kind. I could go to the ends of the universe and back again and never find another one like her... and I went much further than that."

It was then he remembered what Cass had told him about their friends and the demon attack several years before, and something overcame him. Owen didn't know if he was ready for it, but a deep guilt settled into the pit of his stomach at the thought of having missed his chance to honor the dead. He wanted to rectify that, and as such chose to speak.

"Cass told me about what happened... while I was gone. I grew up with all of you, and... I'd like to have a chance to pay my respects. I was thinking, why don't we get the guys together one night down at the football stadium? We'll sit up in the bleachers and listen to the radio broadcast from the state championship Junior year, knock back some brews and remember our brothers who aren't here anymore. What do you think?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's blush was so bright she swore she could have cooked an egg on her face from the heat she felt radiating from it. His words were poetry, and she memorized every one so she could revisit them whenever she could. But as he brought up the attack on the Coven, Cassandra could see Caleb's eyes go distant.

He'd lost his blood in that attack, and even though it'd been years since Kegan's death, Caleb still took the memories with some difficulty. Caleb gave a saddened smile, then it grew more genuine when he suggested they toast to the memories of Garret, Xavier, and Kegan. Getting some of the team together again was something he'd avoided doing for the simple fact that he was the only one still alive or around from his family. "I like it, man. I think it'd be a great tribute to them. When're you thinking?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen offered his friend an apologetic look when he saw the distant look in his eyes. He knew that look. It was one he'd worn from the moment he went off searching for Rachael, and one that he never would fully be able to remove from his countenance. When Caleb came back to the present, Owen was glad to hear he thought it would be a good idea. His face split into a wide grin, and he gave the other man a curt nod.

"Awesome. I was thinking when I get back from the Border Marches? I'm headed out to the Sunset Woods tomorrow, and I won't be back for three days, so I'm thinking maybe the day after I get back? That will give us time to get all the guys together and for me to dig out the recording," he replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb nodded thoughtfully and then paused to arch an eyebrow. "The Sunset Woods? Really? Man, I know some of the shit that's been out there, why are you..."

Cassandra shook her head and cleared her throat getting his attention. "He's contracted to do it... It's a job..."

"But he's a mortal, Cass! You're going to be okay with a mortal going out there?"

Cassandra arched an eyebrow and shook her head. "After everything he's been through, he made it through hell, Caleb. This is his choice."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blood in Owen's veins heated to a boiling temperature at Caleb's words. His friend's utter lack of respect for what he had accomplished despite the fact that "he's a mortal" made the mage grind his teeth in biting back the truth. He couldn't reveal what he had become to them, at least not yet. Truthfully he was still technically mortal. No extended lifespan, no otherworldly superpowers, just the knowledge and training to understand the universe and reality in such a way as to manipulate it.

It was the knowledge that Caleb was wrong due to ignorance that kept Owen from losing his cool. He offered his friend instead a wry grin and a wink like he used to when they would stand across from one another in the huddle. The gesture was one he knew would instantly bring back that feeling of trust and confidence that they had all shared in one another, that Coach Tundra had instilled in all of them.

"I can handle a few stray Nidathalos, buddy. It'll be almost like a vacation by comparison," he replied easily. "Besides, I have a big sword if there's really any trouble," he added with a subtle squeeze of Cassandra's waist with his hidden hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Too late for that...

Owen couldn't help the thought as Caleb told him to come back in one piece, but wa smart enough not to vocalize it in Cassandra's presence. He gave the other man a nod and a grin. He couldn't truly be angry at his friend for wanting to look out for him, but there was nothing he feared that could be worse than what he had already faced.

"I will, and I'll see you guys when I get back," he replied.

Almost as soon as Caleb left, Miss Betty brought their order and placed it before them. Owen thanked her appreciatively and waited for her to leave before starting to dig in. His first bite into the burger brought back memories of his childhood, his friends, and his home. It seemed silly that such a thing could trigger the fond memories of the place he'd grown up, but here he was having nostalgia over a specifically prepared hunk of dead bovine.

"At least not everyone here looks at me like a freak," Owen said after swallowing his first bite. "I wonder... I hope my old teammates don't get too... curious about certain things."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra shook her head and smiled up at him, moving over only a little to give him room to eat. The cafe always did extra cheesy right, and grinned as she tore a corner of the grilled cheese off. Cheese spread between the two pieces, and she giggled softly as she broke it, wrapped it around the corner and popped it into her mouth.

She looked up at him as he spoke and leaned toward him a little. "The old team were more concerned with other things, and still are. Especially since Caleb escaped and no one else did." she said softly, hoping to put him at ease that he wasn't alone in his "Freak" status in the town. Though the coven still protected them from the things that went bump in the night, and while the town knew there were things they could not comprehend lurking in the shadows, blissful ignorance was the go to.

'People are afraid of what they don't understand.' her mother often said, and it was truth spoken from one who knew the best. The ignorance kept them 'safe' and knew it would take a near apocalyptic event to get them to truly understand what the Coven and Owen's family did for the mortals they lived among. Even then, Cassandra had her doubts that it would do much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen contemplated her words as he ate, letting the reality that his friends were dead truly sink in. Xavier had been like a brother to him, as had Keegan and Alex. If only because their families shared a similar secret, despite the differences in their beliefs. Owen's heart broke as the weight of it settled into his gut, and he suddenly felt a sharp decline in his appetite. I had been he himself who had brought the subject up, and now those thoughts curdled in his mind like sour milk in a child's belly.

He did his best to finish the meal placed before him, but it was clearly a forced and arduous endeavor. Owen was no stranger to making himself eat because he needed to survive, but he hated having to do it. Before he realized it, his pensive mood had carried him silently through the rest of the meal. As Miss Betty took his plate away and put the check before him, Owen thanked her quietly before placing his hand over the paper and turning his gaze upon Cass for the first time since Caleb left.

"I guess I got lost in thought, darlin... sorry about that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra couldn't help giving Owen a few sideways glances as she picked apart her sandwich. She knew getting lost in one's thoughts was something that would happen. It'd happened to her more times than she could count. But for Owen it was something so much more intense, learning all the happenings around the town, things that had transpired since he left to find his sister, it was a lot to process. Though she wanted to pull him from his own mind, she stayed quiet knowing that sometimes he was going to have to be allowed that time.

She had finished before he had, and sat waiting, stirring the ice in her drink with one hand, watching him out of the corner of her eye until he spoke. She gave him a soft smile once he did and reached out to place her hand over his. "It's okay. Is it something you want to talk about?"

How often had he spoke those exact words to her, only to have her shake her head at him, and almost feel as though she were sinking deeper into the recesses of her own mind? How often she should have spoken up and told him what was lurking in the darkness, but waited until it was nearly causing her a panic attack? She only hoped that it wasn't something like that keeping Owen quiet through their meal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen shook his head in much the same way Cassandra had all those years ago. He sighed heavily and offered her a brave smile. The Necromage knew that he could tell her anything and she would not only listen but be of ultimate comfort to him. However, she didn't need his baggage. Not yet.

"Just thinking about the guys, how I'll never be able to see them again, or dump those little snipits left behind by the hole puncher into Keegan's umbrella until he opened it the first rainy of spring..."

That brought forth a genuine chuckle from him, and it warmed his heart a little. He rose to his feet and offered her a hand up before leading her over to the counter to pay. Once that was done he offered her his arm and led her out of the cafe, no longer anxious about the eyes on him as they were on their way out the door.

Once in the parking lot, he opened the driver's side door and helped Cass back into the vehicle before climbing in behind her and starting the engine. He finally seemed to release the last of the tension that had built up within him from the restaurant, and slipped an arm around his beloved's shoulders.

"I never thought... after all these years I would have this again," he whispered before pressing his lips to her forehead. "But something I want you to understand... and make sure everyone else understands, Cass... I didn't save Rachael. She saved me. Her... master... would have killed me, but she strangled him to death with her own chain. I'm not the hero here. She is."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra giggled at the memory of the tiny hole punch dots sticking to Kegan as he opened the umbrella. They never lasted long, though. As soon as the coast was clear he'd give Owen a glare and burn them off of him. His darkened voice of 'Not funny, Harborson.' echoed in her mind, making her grin up at him as she accepted hid hand and leaned against his side. She'd almost forgotten about Emmit and Leandra being there until her sister reached out to swat her arm.

The witch looked back and gave her a smile, resting her head on his arm as he paid. She slipped into the truck, staying in the middle, wanting to be as close to him as she could for as long as she could. She smiled up at him as he spoke and sighed contentedly as he kissed her forehead. But as he continued, she felt a swell of pride for Rachael, and yet still his words spoke volumes.

"Baby, don't you understand? You are a hero. You just said it, 'her master', she had a master. You inspired her and drove her to save you. You rescued her so she could rescue herself and you. You are the one that ran off into the unknown to find her, damn the consequences and trials you would go through all for your family," she reached up, pressing her palms to his jaw before she moved them back to loosely twist a little strand of his hair around her index fingers. She held tight as she caught his violet gaze and then spoke. "You are a hero. You are my hero for everything you have done, and everything you will continue to do, Owen."
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Page 7
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A pleasant shiver ran through Owen's entire being as Cassandra reached up to touch his face. It was like she knew exactly how to communicate with him even without words, but what she spoke melted more of the ice that had formed around his heart. He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into her touch as her words washed over him. Everything inside of him hurt so much he could barely stand it even with the painkillers, but with a single caress Cass could take it all away.

The term of endearment sent waves of euphoria through him, but her insistence that he was a hero dashed against the truth of what he had done in loving another she knew nothing about. Then she told him that he was "her" hero, and that sent him spiraling into a place he did not want to go. Every muscle in his body tensed reflexively, but he softened the moment he felt her fingers being to wind through his hair. Owen closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he prepared to tell her what happened on that mountainside.

"He... I killed all of his men, and their horses too. But he... I thought he was a demon, but I underestimated him. Turns out he was an Elemental, like dad, only with gravity. He... nearly crushed me to death in a black hole. I think... if I'm not better by the time I get back from my hunting trip I might need to have Jess get me in for some tests."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra couldn't help gleaning just a little of the surface emotion from Owen as they raced through him. And yet he spoke and explained just how bad it was. So that's what the painkillers were for. If he'd gone up against an elemental like Dan Harborson, but with gravity, Cassandra immediately warred with herself to argue against him going out to the woods. If he was going to have Caleb's mother set up some tests for him, she knew it would be bad.

He'd had enough of his fair share of bumps and hits on the football field, but he always turned Jessica's help down. He never wanted the nurse to look at him or touch him really, and hearing those words from him shot a twinge of fear straight down her spine. He was hurt, but he wasn't admitting how bad it was.

Nothing has changed, has it baby? she wondered, and moved her thumbs over his cheeks. "You'd better be careful out there," she said almost harshly. Her worry for him was amped tenfold, but she'd be damned if she demanded anything that would compromise his standing with his new job. "I'll make sure Jess is ready with the orders, that's why you've been taking the pain killers today, isn't it?"

She let out a soft sigh, hating that he couldn't tell her what had happened sooner, but also understanding it at the same time. "Just be careful, please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen couldn't bring himself to start the engine, too focused on what Cassandra was doing to concentrate on anything else besides her touch. He could almost taste the apprehension and fear within her, and hugged her closer to him with the arm that was around her. Her words brought a smirk to his lips, and for the briefest of moments he pulled back to look at her like the teenaged version of himself. That same cocky, confident smirk crossed his countenance as he captured her emerald eyes in his raptor gaze.

"When have you ever known me to be reckless, darlin? Don't you worry about a thing," he said with a wink. He sighed in defeat at her observation regarding the pills, giving her a small nod. "Don't tell the guys or my parents... but they barely take the edge off. I'm giving it a little more time, but I'm starting to think something else might be going on I can't figure out."

He couldn't help himself then, and placed a tender kiss upon his beloved's lips. It was a brief but smoldering kiss, and when he pulled back it somehow still managed to leave him breathless. The look on Cassandra's face told him she felt the same.

"I've waited more than a decade to be able to do that again," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "But it's felt like two lifetimes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra gave him a smirk initially, and gave a slight shake of her head. There was the Owen she had held onto in the darkest of nights. The one she remembered from nights under the stars whispering dreams of leaving the small town for a nearby bigger city. Dreams that hadn't been given a chance to come true. Owen was still there, though time had changed them both, and now that they were in each other's arms again, perhaps those dreams could still come true.

She nodded in a promise not to speak of the pills, allowing him the time he needed to figure out what was wrong. But then his lips pressed against hers, and her heart fluttered in the sweetest of ways. Butterflies she had long since pegged as dead and gone took flight and made her press just a little more against him in response.

The kiss lingered and yet was over far too soon, leaving her breathing hitched and her hands shaking slightly against his skin. "I've been wanting that since the night you left," she whispered honestly. "And I've been waiting for the day I would get it again. I've been wanting that all day," she confessed then with a small giggle as she pressed her forehead back against his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's heart took flight when he felt her return the kiss, and again when she confirmed what he said to her. He knew she would probably want more, especially after all the time they had been apart when juxtaposed against the last night they had spent together. He too remembered dreams of escaping Duskmarsh for even nearby Charleston or perhaps somewhere greater, but now desired nothing more than to settle down peacefully in a familiar place with the woman he'd always kept in his heart.

The way she pressed against him sent a desire stirring through his body Owen had forgotten was there, and the slight hitch in her breathing as she trembled did not escape his notice. It had been years since he'd felt a woman's touch, and while it had been more by circumstance than by choice he was glad for the thought that Cass would benefit from it. However, the thought of physical intimacy terrified him in that moment. Rachael had not been the only one dominated by a cruel being during her captivity. Owen had been the property of a mistress of his own, and the title of her "mate" only meant that his suffering had been prolonged for years instead of carrying him to his death within months.

As a result, the mage had a direct association between intimacy and pain. That had been his reality for more than half a decade, and something he had not shaken since. It was why he had not bedded another since, and though he knew deep down that Cass would never hurt him, the scars left by Batiba would take much longer to heal than he would ever realize.

"I love you, Cass," he whispered before pulling his forehead from hers. "Just... be patient with me, okay? Know that I am yours and only yours as long as you will have me. I just... I have some things to work out. I wish we had more time before I leave in the morning, darlin, but it's probably for the best so I don't... have one of my moments around your daughter. Give me some time to sort out the mess in this head of mine first?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled up at him and nodded, moving her thumbs still against his cheeks in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture. "I love you, Owen, you were patient with me, it's only fair for me to return the gesture." She hated that he was right, and they didn't have much time at all, and his words of not having a moment in front of Melinda only made her worry for him. "You take all the time you need, baby. Know that I'm here, I always will be."

She tilted her head back to press a soft kiss to his lips, stealing just one more to keep her warm over the next few nights that he would be gone. "Dinner wasn't so bad, right?" At least she hoped it hadn't been, especially since he seemed more confident as they left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen smiled after she stole another kiss and shook his head. "No, darlin. It wasn't bad at all. How could it be whenever I'm with you? Whenever I'm with you, Cass... I know that it couldn't be any better. It never in a thousand years could."

He started the engine, noting the position of the sun and that it was nearing time for
Cass to be home. As he pulled onto the highway, Owen felt a deep sense of regret that he had to leave her so soon. The mage wished he could spend every moment with her, go home and meet her child and start a relationship with her, but it just wasn't possible. He knew that like her, he would have to be patient. She had promised to do the same for him, and they would see each other once he got back from his hunting trip.

"I miss you already, Cass, and you're still sitting right here," he said as they drove.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blush moved over Cassandra's cheeks before he started the truck, and she couldn't help her reaction of looking down away from him as she felt heat flush through her face. She was perfectly content to sit there next to him, head on his shoulder as he drove, and would have stayed there were there not a small human waiting for her. There were so many words, so many things to say still and yet Cassandra knew that there would be time for it all.

Once he spoke against, she snuggled under his arm a little bit more and hummed softly. "I know the feeling."

She missed Owen every day for ten long years, and while three days didn't seem that long in comparison, every hour spent away from him was an eternity to her. Too much time apart and now his new duty would take him from her for days at a time. "It won't be long," she whispered, though it sounded even to her own ears that she was more trying to convince herself rather than reassure him. "Okay, it'll feel like a thousand eternities," she said with a playful exaggerated sigh. "But I'll be here waiting for you, like I have the last ten years."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen swallowed a lump that formed in his throat when she mentioned having waited for him. He didn't have the heart to point out the child made her a liar, because frankly he was no better. Owen had been ready to marry another, but that had been cruelly ripped away from him. How could he begrudge her offspring from a union that obviously had been dissolved? It irritated him that she pretended there had never been anyone else but him, but loved her so that he was able to set it aside from now. Mom and Dad would know. They would be able to explain the situation better, though he suspected they would simply tell him to go ask her.

The way she snuggled against him made all of that nearly go away, however, and he couldn't help but pull her a bit closer as they drove. He saw a future with her, but it would not be as easy as it was in this moment. They wouldn't always be alone, and Owen knew there were things from his past that would eventually hunt him down and find him here. It was why he had contemplated bringing Rachael back and simply vanishing right after. Then there was Cass... she was here, waiting for him, still loving him after all this time.

"I don't want this day to end, darlin," he sighed with a clear sadness. "When I get back I think we need to talk about some things... but it can wait until then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The grief in his voice wasn't lost on her, and she didn't need to be clairvoyant to hear it. There were many things she felt needed to be said, but just how to say them? She'd chosen the words said to him to reassure him on certain matters. Though she knew that one moment, one choice had turned her life upside down. She'd nearly gotten it righted when he came home and knocked it over again. She would never begrudge him coming home, and in fact as long as everything went right, he would be there to help her push her entire life upright again. She couldn't do it without him, and didn't want to either.

"It can, baby. I'll be here waiting for you to get home."

At least this time she got to say goodbye to him, at least this time, there was an arrival date in sight. And at least this time she knew he could handle whatever came his way. She was terrified to have him going to the border marches, but this was Owen. No matter what had been thrown at him, he'd always been able to take it and dish everything back and then some. He'd faced a gravity elemental for the Goddess's sake. He could handle some mutant animals at the Border Marches... Right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Again, her use of that word in place of his name sent a pleasant flutter through his stomach he could never quite explain. As much as he'd hoped for more time with her despite their nap, what they'd had was unfairly brief given how long they'd been apart. He pulled into her driveway almost remorsefully, putting the truck in park and simply letting it idle as he held her to him with his one arm. He could feel her apprehension, the way it tensed her muscles and colored her voice as she spoke. It broke his heart, but told him just how much she cared for him.

"I'll come back to you, Cass... I promise. And I promise it won't take years this time," he said. "I'll never leave you like that again. You have my word. I want... I want to build this life together with you, like we spoke of earlier."

Owen let his forehead rest against hers again as he saw her mother's vehicle appear at the edge of the horizon. It was time to go. That thought in and of itself crushed him, even though he knew it was only for a short time. They would be together again in a few days, but even that short span of time felt like an eternity. He hurt in a fashion that had nothing to do with his physical injuries, and couldn't help how quickly that strong connection with her had been re-forged in such a brief span.

"I'll see you soon, darlin," he whispered, placing a soft kiss against her lips. "Don't forget to ask Jess about those tests for when I get back?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra wanted to climb onto his lap and stay there for the rest of her days. She wanted it all, everything they had spoken of and everything that their dreams were made of together. She could have it all with him, and she knew it. It just wasn't fair that the beginning of that life would have to be delayed yet again.

She saw the headlights reflecting in the cab of the truck, and she groaned softly, inching closer to him for a moment. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she would be without him again, to be forced to wait no matter how long was an ache she would handle until she was able to see him again.

"Well, there are advancements in technology. At least send me a text at the end of the day to let me know you're okay?" she asked, holding up her cell phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen snickered softly at her lack of understanding. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm going to be so far out in the boonies that even the Verizon guy wouldn't be able to make a call from there," he said with a morose chuckle. "But I know you can feel me, no matter how far away I am. I will be okay, and you have my permission… to look for me.”

He gave her one final kiss on the lips before opening the driver’s side door and stepping down to let her out. Owen refused to say goodbye. He hated goodbyes. Instead, he took a deep breath, met her emerald gaze with his own and gave her his characteristic lopsided smirk.

“I’ll see you later, darlin.”

~ The Next Day ~

Njord Camareno sat on the deck of the riverboat "Queen Ivy" with a fist full of playing cards but a belly nearly empty. He had a mug of beer clutched in his other mitt, which he took a swig from before setting it back on the table. A thick black beard covered his face and matched the mane of wild hair that fell past his collar. His hand was crap, and the last of his chips were resting in the pot. He hoped the bluff would work.

"Call."

Shit.

Ten minutes later he was standing on the deck of the boat, leaning over the railing with a sigh. He was at the end of his rope, but he had grown up not too far from here according to old Reverend Tacky Jack. He felt nothing, though he really had no memories through which to conjure up emotion. Depression or fear were popular when he had been younger, but half a decade had given him the experience he needed to come into his own as both a man and as a Bloodrage. He pushed those emotions back down, concentrating on what he was going to do once he got to town.

The thing that had led him here was its connection to a man Njord could only call his brother and best friend. Owen Harborson had found him in the woods and shown him what he was. He and Reverend Tacky Jack had spent months teaching him the intimate aspects of being a guardian of the veil and a hunter of the moon. The Reverend was his mentor, being of the same breed. Owen had simply served as a comrade, a confidant.

Even years later, Njord still firmly believed that despite the Mage's shadowy nature and hidden agendas he really just needed some human companionship at the time. Njord had learned about the spirit Nakina and how the worlds of Material and Twilight mirrored one another and needed to be kept in balance. This was the purpose of the Bloodrage, as he had learned.

Though it had been years since Njord had seen his brother, he knew they could simply pick up where they left off. He knew the wizard would help him, and in return Njord would resume his former duty of guarding his friend's back. If Owen had finally followed through on his threat of building an assassin droid to replace him, then he would simply be out of luck.

When the riverboat finally pulled into the dock, morning was settling into afternoon. Njord's stomach was beginning to growl, but he never had to worry about getting a meal. Once he had disembarked, Njord made his way toward Duskmarsh, taking a shortcut through the forest. Once he was free from the scrutiny of mortal eyes, the Bloodrage discarded the facade of his human coil and became a pure white wolf.

The transformation was nearly instantaneous, and the clothes on his back seemed to absorb into his fur as he shifted, becoming the natural coverings of his species. He was already at a full run, charging through the woods and relying on instinct to guide him. Njord loved the feel of the wind rushing past him and the crunch of brush beneath his paws as he ran, and luxuriated in every bit of it as he threw himself completely into the loving arms of nature.

~*~

[Background Music: "The Best is Yet to Come" - MGS OST Acoustic Remix]

Owen crept through the underbrush near Sycamore Creek, the canopy of trees shielding him from the hot midday sun. What the foliage did not block out his cowboy hat did, and it allowed his sharp eyes to keep a lookout unimpeded. His hair was tied into a ponytail and tucked up into the hat to keep it off his neck, and everything he wore was enchanted as magical armor.

The Necromage was not one to take risks, not after everything he had endured since chasing after his sister into the night. He sported what appeared to be a compression shirt, but what it was actually composed of was the leathery substance that held together the armored carapace of one of the most nightmarish creatures in existence. It was heavily resistant to damage, and he had layered over it a tunic made from their leg segments, giving himself excellent protection from piercing and cutting that might result from claws or fangs. Simple charcoal jeans and cowboy boots finished off his attire, the latter because he traversed the landscape most often on horseback.

He never brought his mount within a certain distance of the verge though. It was far too dangerous for him to risk one of his family's horses. King, a chestnut with a white blaze down the center of his face, was right behind him led via bridle. Owen still remembered when his mount had been just a colt following him around like a dog. Now the Tennessee Walker was a massive, sure-footed and reliable beast. The Necromage dared not risk his companion to one of the monstrosities that moved in and out of the Verge.

Owen's job was not to kill, necessarily. The creatures could not be permitted to remain in the Material Realm for more than a short time lest they risk exposure. Obviously they also could not be allowed near human settlements for that very same reason, but orders were generally to observe, document, and if needed drive them back across the Verge. The good news was he had more than enough wilderness around him to give the monsters just enough rein to let them think they're free.

Sometimes, though, a creature would refuse to be driven back. Other times they would decide to start heading toward civilization, or inevitably just be too dangerous by nature to let live. Most of the time this was limited to the flight capable varieties, but there were a few others he hoped he never saw. It was generally considered suicide to step across a verge, but Owen felt it was crucial to scout them out rather than just wait to see what it spat forth.

He was not foolish enough to ever set up camp outside the Material Realm, but he did erect a cozy settlement on a hill overlooking the dimensional rift. The tear in the fabric of space-time itself was not a visible phenomenon to the naked eye, but to those sensitive to such things it appeared like a great fault line hanging in the air itself. It glowed with an inner light, and represented a radius in acres where any sort of beastie could appear. Precisely what would appear depended on which of the Astral Planes the verge was connected to, and the one near Duskmarsh just so happened to be linked to Panacea.

Owen's camp included a sturdy shelter build into the rock face of the hill, with a cloth awning, a bed, and storage chests for his equipment and herbs. A fire pit was built into the center of the shelter with a funnel in the roof designed to draw the escape of smoke and block rain. A few lawn chairs were scattered around the pit, and a barbecue spit rested nearby. As he approached, Owen breathed a sigh of relief and turned secured King in the small sheltered corral just behind the camp before performing a cursory scan.

A waterfall fed into a basin just behind the camp, surrounded by the stone that made up the mountainside. That basin drained down the cliff away from the trail and fed into the creek far below. It was a beautiful sight to behold, but nothing quite so spectacular as what the view from the camp provided.

Once he was convinced he wouldn't open a container and be attacked by a raccoon, Owen set his pack between his two storage chests with a sigh. The late afternoon sun highlighted the various areas of the Sunset Woods, which was the origination of the name. There were eleven distinct ecosystems that comprised the entire whole, and each could support its own unique life. The subtle blend of colors that highlighted from the rays that managed to break through the clouds overhead was a sight Owen never thought he would see again.

He stood there for a time, watching the golden-orange ball of life-giving energy settle into the horizon. As shadows fell upon the Sunset Woods, Owen lit the fire and brought out some venison, bread, bitter nuts and greens and cooked them in a skillet while eating the nuts as a snack. The sounds of nighttime soon joined the snap-crackle of the fire roaring in the pit.

The meal was filling, and despite being alone with his thoughts Owen found himself at peace being surrounded by wilderness. The only technology he had with him was an emergency solar-powered satellite phone, which had been provided by the Consilium. He used it to set an alarm for early the next day before climbing into bed. The last thoughts on his mind before darkness claimed him were of the green-eyed brunette he desperately loved back in Duskmarsh.

~ The Next Morning ~

Owen awoke to find himself in the company of a wild animal, which was the last thing he expected. It should have been next to impossible for anything to reach him up here, but seated under the awning was a beautiful white wolf with eyes the color of a crystal blue river frozen in heart of winter. It took him a moment, but something immediately jarred his memory and a wide grin split his countenance.

"How many years has it been, Avalanche?" Owen asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed. The wolf, now that he knew he was in no danger of being mistaken, shifted back into the human known as Njord. He was taller than Owen by a good three to four inches, and carried an additional thirty pounds of muscle on his frame. Despite that he always saw Njord as a little brother. He knew Njord didn't mind the comparison and saw himself within the same light, at least since the last time he'd seen him.

"Three or so," came Njord's reply. "Where's...?"

"Died... a long time ago."

"Christ..."

"You hungry?" Owen asked, trying to change the subject.

"Always, man. Is that venison I smell?"

"Treated in my special prairie dust blend like always," Owen said with a smirk.

"Hell yes, any eggs to go with that?"

Within minutes there was a steaming hot breakfast being cooked up on a pan with eggs and venison steak and broccoli. Njord turned his nose up a little at the cruciferous vegetable, but knew it was more for Owen than for him. They ate in silence before washing and drying the cookware, at which point Njord took a good look at his brother.

"You're stressed out, Big-O," Njord stated. "I never expected to find you here. You always said you'd never come within a hundred miles of home until..."

"I found her," Owen confirmed. "I always thought it was a demon who had taken her, but it was an Elemental. Almost killed my ass. Rach... she saved me. Strangled the bastard with her own leash."

"She was leashed?" Njord asked angrily. "What happened out there, Big-O?"

"Long story," Owen replied quietly.

Njord looked all around them as the rising sun broke through the clouds and cast its rays across the face of the Sunset Woods. Unlike the evening the forest did not light up in the same manner. In fact, everything looked rather pedestrian by comparison. Still, it held a beauty all its own that enraptured him as the Bloodrage gestured to it.

"We have plenty of time," Njord replied.

"No, actually, we don't." Owen rose to his feet and pointed over the horizon. As Njord turned to look, there appeared a great monstrosity amidst the trees. It more closely resembling a dinosaur than anything currently living, and it was easily more than thirty feet in length. A large, wedge-shaped head with a massive crown had its weight offset by the large spade club at the end of the tail.

The rest of its features were difficult to make out, but it was also at a distance that would take some time for them to cross. Njord had seen a lot in his time, but this was enough to make his mouth fall agape. Owen smirked and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched his friend's reaction.

"What the hell is that?" Njord asked finally.

"That is a resident of the primal wilds," Owen replied. "Some Protector of the Verge decided to call it a Brachyoth."

"So... are you going to kill it?"

Owen shook his head. "No, I don't think so," he replied. "It's a little dry where he's from right now, so he stops by every few days to pick up a fresh coat of mud to stay cool."

"So what do you do out here?"

"Monitor the ecosystem, maintain the wards to keep mortals away, and if need be contain anything particularly nasty that comes out of the great rip in the Quintessence," Owen said. "If things get out of hand I prefer to drive them back into the Verge rather than outright killing them."

"Cool. Mind if I tag along for a few days?" Njord asked, hoping he might be able to get a gig partnering up with his best friend again.

Owen smirked. "You know you don't have to ask me that, bro. When we get back to Duskmarsh I'll talk to Scotty and see if he can't hook you up with some pest control work. He's an old friend of my dad's and I know how much you like killing spiders and rats."

Njord grinned from ear to ear. "That sounds like a plan I like, but only if I can keep coming out here and enjoying the wilderness."

"What about carving out your own territory? Nakina isn't too far from here," Owen said. "You think it might be time to figure all of that out?"

This time it was Njord's turn to furrow his brow. "I'll do it when I'm damn well ready," he grumbled. "You know I want to carve out my own territory, have my own pack. Nakina is Tacky Jack's turf, anyway."

"Tacky Jack's getting old, Njord," Owen pointed out. "He can't guard Nakina forever, and you know that territory. I'm not saying you should make the decision now, but I plan to set up a life here... and I'd like my best friend to be close by if possible."

The Bloodrage seemed honored, and averted his gaze to look out over the Sunset Woods. "I've never really thought about it, but you're right I guess. I always talked about building a pack and a home," Njord admitted. "Angelus always told me I was too strong-willed to be anything other than an Alpha."

"When did he say that?"

"Right before he threw me out of his pack," Njord replied with a laugh. "He called it an 'honorable discharge' so he didn't have to execute me."

Owen grimaced. "You know he's like family to me too, right?"

"I know, that's why I hopped on the first riverboat south. I figured enough was enough and I needed to make my own way," Njord said. "So this is the old Sunset Forest eh?"

"Sunset Woods," Owen corrected. "Yeah."

"And your hometown is just...?"

"About thirty miles that way," he said with a gesture of his thumb.

"Can't wait to see it, man."

"It's a pretty special place. There are quite a lot of people there who will accept you for what you are," Owen promised.

"Sounds good to me. Before we set off for the day though, I wanted to ask you something."

"What's that?"

Njord reached into his pack and pulled out a hard black case and popped it open. From within its confines he withdrew a violin and bow, offering his friend a grin. "Do you still play?"

~*~

The next three days were mercifully uneventful for Owen, who relied heavily on the presence and assistance of his friend as his physical condition got steadily worse. The duo spent most of their time out in the woods, gathering supplies to fill Owen's personal trunk back at camp. The various flora and fauna all had incredibly useful properties thanks to their proximity to the verge. Everything was fair game: sap, spiderwebs, felvine, ivy, even dung, and the duo wasted none of it and collected as much as they could.

By the time they left, Owen was barely able to stand from the pain, but the prescription painkillers and cannabis Njord helped him hunt down kept him from completely collapsing under the strain of it. It was the longest drive back he could ever imagine, and by the time they were entering the Duskmarsh town limits he was ready for a long soak in a hot bath. He had woven dozens of delvings over his physical form with the Life circle in hopes of finding the problem, but his own abilities weren't cutting it.

When Owen arrived at the Harborson Manor around midday with Njord in tow he didn't know what to expect from his family. Fortunately, nobody was inside besides Rachael who remained holed up in her room. Owen couldn't blame her, and led Njord immediately toward the back of the house to the guest bedroom. Once in the rear hallway, he opened the first door on his right and entered a well-kept guest bedroom. Njord didn't have anything for himself, but Owen's father was a large, heavily built martial arts instructor so most of his clothes looked like they would fit the Bloodrage.

Njord hadn't stayed in a place so nice since living with Angelus and his pack, and looked around in a bit of awe given the number of collectibles decorating the room. Everything from Owen's favorite movie and sports franchises seemed to have spilled over from the adjacent room into this one, but Njord did not mind in the slightest. He smiled and nodded.

"I could definitely sleep here for a change," he said. Njord looked over at Owen after a moment. "Until I find a Nexus, that is. I won't be in your family's hair for long-"

Owen placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and shook his head. "Bro, when I tell them how you helped me get on Rachael's trail for good you've got a place to sleep forever. You're family now, just stay away from my sister if you want to keep your dick."

Njord chuckled mirthlessly. "Right."

"I mean it. She doesn't need to know you even exist right now," Owen warned. "Don't speak to her, don't acknowledge her presence unless she speaks to you first. I can't have her recovery set back because of your furry ass saying something stupid."

The Bloodrage furrowed his brow. "Hey now, I'm not-"

"Don't make me bring up the Nosferatu strike team incident."

"Okay, okay!" Njord cut him off quickly. "You win... no speaking to your sister."

"Other than that, make yourself at home, bro. I have to make a phone call, so I'll catch you later, okay?"

Owen stepped outside onto the front porch after he was certain Njord was settled in well enough. After a quick phone call to his parents to inform them of his best friend's presence, he dialed Cassandra's number and put the phone to his ear as he leaned heavily against one of the pillars. The last of his strength was quickly leaving him, and he was forced to grip the breaker with his free hand to keep from completely losing his composure. Sweet agony ripped through his entire body, and he welcomed it like a drug addict would a hit of his chosen substance.

When he heard her pick up on the other end, Owen took a deep breath. "Cass... I'm back from my hunting trip. If... If you have the time, I need Jess to get me in for a full-body X-ray at the hospital as soon as possible..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first day without Owen was long, but Cassandra threw herself into her work and spending time with Melinda. The girl had questions about the man that had watched her get on the bus the morning before, but Cassandra put off answering questions as much as she could. Until Owen came back and she knew he would be in one piece, Melinda would simply know that he was an old friend who had finally come home. She,of course, knew the girl knew more than that, but was thankful when the questions ceased. She took Owen's permission to heart and checked on him that night, watched him put together a meal in his camp, it gave her peace to know he was well, and fell asleep easily that night.

The next day after Melinda was off to school, she knew that she would be spending time with Paige and Dan Harborson that evening, and not only needed to see Rachael to explain the situation, but to get her advice. She had looked up to Rachael as a beacon of strength and someone to aspire to when she had been broken, and Cassandra hoped to be the same for Rachael. It was the least she could do to repay the woman for what she had done for her.

Almost an hour into their visit, Cassandra curled up in a chair near Rachael's bed and finally spoke the words she knew needed to be spoken to Owen. She fought back tears as she explained the paternal side of Melinda's genetics, and what had happened with Xavier.

"It was only once, and yet here she is, Rache. How... how am I supposed to tell Owen? With everything he's been through and then this added on top of it? I know I need to tell him soon, but I'm at a loss on how to break it to him and be gentle about the information overload."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Background Music: "Terra's Theme" (Rachael's Theme)]

Rachael was glad for Cassandra's visit. It had been too long since she had seen any of her friends, and due to the relationship the woman had had with her brother they'd had their own unique friendship. They had both trusted one another, especially since it had been through Rachael that Cass had grown close to Owen. It had been all small talk at first, with Rachael wrapped up in thick blankets on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest and almost no part of her body exposed.

To the untrained eye it would look completely ordinary, but for someone who knew what to look for there were clear signs of what Rachael had been subjected to. It wasn't even something Rachael did consciously, but Cassandra had favored similar posturing in her past as well for the same reasons. When her friend dropped the bomb about Melinda and Xavier on her, Rachael had to fight the mix of anger, shock, and sadness that threatened to overtake her.

"I... I think you would be surprised at how understanding my brother can be, Cass," Rachael said. "He loves you..."

She toyed for a moment with the idea of telling her friend about finding her sibling with a firearm pressed to his temple the other night, but it was a struggle to consider. As much as she knew Cass would want to help, Rachael also respected her brother's privacy. But was privacy really worth holding onto in the face of possible suicide? She decided that Cass might just be able to convince him to back away from the edge, especially given the news she'd just given her. It wasn't something Rachael would ever tell their mother and father, because that would be a betrayal of confidence, and she doubted Owen would respond well. Cassandra, on the other hand, could help him far more than anyone else could.

"I can say this with certainty though. The longer you go without telling him, the more it's going to eat away at him. The other night... I think it was after he saw you again for the first time... Owen tried to kill himself," Rachael admitted. She grimaced at her friend's reaction, but held up a hand to stop the multitude of questions that she knew would spill forth.

"I stopped him, and not a moment too soon I think. Since then I've kept a very, very close eye on him, but the thought of him being alone in the woods with his thoughts... Cass you have to tell him. If he knew... I don't think he would take himself out if he knew the truth. He won't like it, and it will hurt him, but he needs to know. Something horrible happened to him while he was out there. He hides things from me... which he never did. I almost feel like... like we're strangers now. That scares me. My brother... the one I grew up with wouldn't hurt his family like that. Something has to have him completely fucked up inside for him to even consider it, much less get to where I saw him..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Page 8
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It went without saying that Rachael's body language was unnerving to Cassandra. How withdrawn she was, how curled up in her own safe haven of her blankets, it told novels of what the woman had been through in her time away. The Witch's heart ached for Rachael, but she knew that time would heal her much in the way that time had healed her.

Rachael's first words to her was something she knew without a doubt, Owen loved her, and he would understand, it was simply finding the appropriate words to begin with. Just blurting out the facts wasn't going to go over well, and she knew it. But her next words... Cassandra's hand flew to her mouth as she flashed back to the nightmare she'd had.

"Oh my God," she whispered softly before Rachael could finish. Once she did, Cassandra shook her head and leaned forward. "I should have known. I should have known it wasn't just a nightmare. My Sight has been off lately, Rache. I Saw it. I saw him holding a gun to his head, and I heard a loud noise. I thought it was the gun going off, so I thought it was just a dream. Thank the gods you were there. What... what happened after?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachael shifted uncomfortably on the bed, pulling herself into an even more tightly compact shape as she felt her friend's scrutiny. It was instinctual, and in no way Cassandra's fault that such discomfort washed over her. As the other woman understood, it would take time, and likely a lot of it, for her to recover mentally from the trauma she'd been subjected to.

"He... He was holding something around his neck, almost like you used to fiddle with your pendant as a nervous habit. But it's different. It seems deliberate for him rather than absent or idle like yours was. He also wouldn't open up to me, except to deflect by saying he was upset that he couldn't be here to save his friends. We both know that's a lie, at least the part where it was enough to make him... do that."

She sighed, rubbing her temples as she rested her forehead against her knees. A headache was starting to build from the tension running throughout her entire body. Rachael didn't handle the memories of yanking the pistol away from her brother's head well, and had had nightmares about it since that night.

"I got the gun away from him... gave serious thought to beating him to death with it, then tried to get him to talk. He wouldn't," she continued. "But Cass... you can reach him in a way that I can't, that Mom or Dad never could. He might actually talk to you, but it may take some time. Don't... don't let him go to that place, wherever it was. Your Sight is spot on, especially with him. If you think you're seeing it, act on it, please... I just got my family back, and I don't want to see my brother tear himself apart over something that could be prevented."

Rachael sighed heavily. "And get his ass to a doctor, lickity split. He won't listen to us, but I can tell something's killing him, maybe literally. I don't remember much about what happened out there, but I'll never forget my brother's scream... Given what I've gathered from Mom, Dad, and what you've told me, he's doing at least one hundred milligrams of oxy a day right now. Nothing good can come from that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra listened closely to Rachael as she spoke, swallowing the lump in her throat as she thought of Owen being truly as damaged as she had been as as Rachael seemed to be. The siblings had saved each other, that much was for sure. When Rachael had mentioned her fiddling with her pendant, she reached up to grip it absently, almost as if the mention of her nervous tick had sparked it to life again.

She wasn't certain how much she'd be able to get Owen to open up to her, for the Goddess' sake, he didn't even want her to see the scars that had been left on his body. The purposeful, meaningful scars that had burned themselves into her memory and made her want to murder whomever had put them on him.

Rachael believed that she could get through to Owen, and with the knowledge that she'd given to her friend, she might just be right about that. The life that he wanted to start with her could be the very thing that inspired him to keep all guns far away from his being. She'd just gotten him back, she didn't want to lose him again, not now.

Cassandra gave Rachael a wry smile and nodded, she hadn't known about the amount of oxy he had been taking, or exactly what the pills were, but she knew something had to be done. "He asked me for Jess when he got back. She'll be ready for him when he calls me. By the way, Mel is going to be here for a little bit this afternoon. it'll give you a chance to meet her, if you're up for it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was clear to see the apprehension in Cassandra's body language, even if she had developed remarkable skill at hiding it from her expression. Rachael figured it was garnered from years of being the Coven's leader and being forced to be the rock for everyone around her. Unlike Cass, Rachael had not seen the scars marking Owen at all, and had she that might have given her some more insight into the woman's reactions. However, Rachael realized in that moment that deep down Cass was still at least partially that same girl she'd known in high school. At the mention of meeting Melinda, however, Rachael shook her head.

"Please... no. I'd rather not. She... she needs to meet Owen first, and I'm not really suitable for a child empath to be around. I do want to meet her eventually of course, but please... give me some more time?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled warmly and nodded, dropping her pendant back against her shirt to hold her hand out to her friend. "Of course, I... I wasn't thinking," she looked down at the floor then, away from her friend and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Rache. Ooh!" She pulled out her phone and grinned as she flipped through a couple pictures of the Inn, then came to a few of Melinda. "Here," she said then handing her phone out for Rachael to take. "Swipe your finger from right to left to see a couple more. The last one before it goes to the Inn is a video of her playing her flute."

To say that Cassandra was a proud mom of her daughter was putting it lightly, she was glad to be able to sit there in that room with Rachael again and share her life with her friend again.

((If Rachael were to flip through the couple of pictures and come to the video, she would see Melinda standing in front of a music stand, giving Cassandra an exasperated look. "Mom, you really have to video this?"

"I'm proud of you, yes I do, now play! Go on, play!"

Melinda then rolled her eyes and gave a sigh to match her look. "Fine..." She rose the flute to her lips and proceeded to play Mary Had a Little Lamb while keeping her eyes on the camera the entire time.

The video would end on a little squeal from Cassandra))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachael took Cassandra's phone and swiped through it, smiling broadly at first as she saw the resemblance in Melinda. She noted that the girl shared her mother's eyes, which was fortunate for the little one. The further she got, the more her smile faded, however. She could remember the words of Sellus Gravius the first time he had forced her onto her back and torn her clothes away.

"You're a pretty little thing, slave... but I do not want my whore pet bearing me a child. So what I'm going to do to you will leave you barren for the rest of your life."

The woman shut her eyes for a moment, remembering nothing but the pain of having her virginity raped and screams of utter torment following those words. Gravius had made sure to remind Rachael at every opportunity that she would never have children of her own, and upon reaching that video of Melinda could no longer contain the silent tears that spilled forth. She could be happy for Cassandra despite everything, because despite what she had been through Rachael was not a petty individual. However, it was all but impossible to keep her own pain from overtaking her in that moment.

Rachael smiled sadly at Cassandra's squeal of delight that ended the video, handing the phone back to her with a sigh. "She's beautiful, Cass," she said. "I can't wait to meet her."

The formerly eldest Harborson sibling took a deep breath to try and control herself, but it wound up hitching multiple times instead. She choked back an open sob, unable to bring herself to look at her friend. Rachael wasn't sure what she wanted in that moment, other than for whatever was wrong inside of her to be fixed. Gravius had convinced her it never could, however, and it was that utter despair of knowing she would never feel a life growing inside of her that continued to try and hurl her over the edge.

"I'm sorry... I-I... Thank you for coming to see me," she whispered sincerely. "I think I need to lie down for a while. Take care of my brother?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's jaw dropped as she saw the tears welling up in her friend's eyes, and as she took her phone back, she shoved it in her back pocket as she got up and started to take a step toward her before stopping herself. She felt utterly helpless and powerless to do anything to help ease the pain her friend was feeling. She couldn't understand the pain, in any sense of the matter, but it didn't and wouldn't make her want to walk away and leave her.

"No, Rachael, don't apologize," she moved to reach out to her to take Rachael's hand, but stopped herself again, unsure of what would and wouldn't be a good idea to do. "You know I'll take care of him, just... just remember that I'm here for you, okay? Always, Rachael."

She settled for brushing the mattress and moved to the door, pausing a moment to look back at her friend, wishing desperately to be able to take all the pain away from her. She had to wonder if this was how Rachael and Owen felt when she had been the one curled in the fetal position in fear and agony. Powerless. She hated the feeling more than the thought of having her witchly gifts being stripped of her. Powerless to help her friends and those she cared about when she was a powerful being was one of the worst feelings in the world.

After a moment, she stepped out of the room and leaned against the hallway wall, struggling to keep herself from crying right along with Rachael. It wasn't fair, damn it, to have a woman the likes of Rachael be so broken. But Cassandra knew in her heart of hearts, the more broken an individual could be, the stronger they could come back from it. All she could do was be there for her friend, be her strength when it was needed, and not cry for her, but with her. Crying for Rachael would mean pity, and that was the last thing she needed in that moment.

The next day and a half went by in a blur, and seeing someone who was obviously a friend to Owen with him in the woods helped to ease any panic she had about him being out there alone facing gods knew what. The day Owen returned, Cassandra had been pouring over the end of the month statements and balancing her books between profits to go into her own bank account and ones to stay in the Inn's account, a daunting task to say the least, when her phone rang.

She picked it up almost absently, almost answering with "Butterfly Inn", then stopped herself, her words coming out as "Bu-Hello?" She dropped her pen as she heard Owen's voice on the other end, a grin spreading on her lips. "Owen! Uh, yeah, I just have to give her a call, is everything okay?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hearing Cassandra's voice was the most welcome sound Owen's ears could have received. Even though it had been mere days since he'd seen her, just the melody of her words made him wonder how he'd survived more than a decade and a half without it. The Necromage wasn't sure how to answer her question in that moment, given how utterly exhausted he was and the physical torment he was in. It didn't escape his notice that she answered the phone like she was at work, and quickly considered if he wanted to bother her with it when she was busy.

"I uh... I'll be fine," he lied. "If you can, I'll need someone to drive me there. When do you get out of work?"

He slid down the column to sit on the front porch steps and rest his back against the pillar, breathing deeply through his nose. Owen decided in that moment that he wasn't going to move from that spot. The man just didn't have the energy. Fifteen years of being ground down capped with nearly being crushed by an unbelievably powerful being's magic finally brought him to his breaking point. Owen slid one hand beneath his shirt to grip the instrument around his neck, replacing the physical pain he felt with much more severe magically induced agony.

"If you can't get away, I might be able to get Njord to take me," he added, trying desperately to conceal the pain in his voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra was brought to attention the moment he spoke. She knew "I'll be fine" meant he certainly was not fine. She'd seen that and heard those words enough on the football field to appropriately believe him. She flipped the books closed and held the phone with her shoulder as she snapped her fingers to get Alysandra's attention. "Right now, baby. I'm on my way."

She rounded the corner of the desk and grabbed her jacket pulling it on as she tipped the receiver down from her mouth. "Lys, hold down the fort? Owen's back."

Alysandra smirked and leaned against the doorway leading into the dining room and shook her head. "Of course. Three days of nothing but work..."

"And Goddess knows how long with him, and he's gonna be in a machine getting X-rayed for however long...." Cassandra retorted before he spoke again. Njord must have been the male she'd seen with him. "No, no, I'm on my way now." she spoke directly into the phone, giving imploring eyes to her sister who finally rose her hands and nodded. "Yes, I'm..." she stopped and leaned back over the desk to grab her forgotten purse and dug her keys out of it. "On my way now, where are you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm at home," Owen replied. "I'll be uh, waiting on the front porch when you get here."

What he wasn't about to tell her was that he specifically couldn't move from that spot if he wanted to at that point. It seemed clear from the tone of Cassandra's voice that she saw right through his facade, and a pang of guilt went through him knowing she was abandoning her work to come take care of him. For a brief moment he wondered if calling her had been a mistake, but quickly realized that Cass had not gotten where she was by being irresponsible and likely would have been furious at him for keeping away from her.

"Thanks, darlin," he said, able to keep his composure better with the grip he kept on the item resting against his chest simply because the pain was more familiar. "See you soon."

As soon as they hung up, Owen used his free hand to open the pill bottle and dump the remaining three oxycodone into his mouth. He didn't even care that he hadn't eaten that day or that there was no water available. The Necromage simply swallowed the drugs dry and let the back of his head rest against the column behind him as he waited for what felt like an eternity for Cass to arrive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra immediately jumped into her car, and raced to the Harborson household. It wasn't an issue at all for her to leave the Inn, especially when both Makayla and Alysandra were there. Owen was right in his assumption that she would have been furious with him if he'd kept it a secret, or tried to. She'd always been able to read him, even without her Sight. As she approached the home, she stopped the car in front of the house as she saw Owen on the porch. He'd been sitting there a while, and he was not comfortable.

Damn him for trying to keep up a brave face toward whatever - no, Cassandra knew what was hurting him. The fight against the gravity elemental. It almost made her want to beat on him and yet be as ginger as possible with him for fear of him breaking. She put the car in park and got out, heading toward him on a jog.

"Owen! You shouldn't have gone, I knew it in my gut you shouldn't have..." she started, then stopped with a heavy sigh, knowing that scholding him was definitely not the way to go about looking out for him like Rachael had pleaded. "Let's get you to Jess, find out what's going on, baby. How bad is it? And don't you dare tell me not that bad and you'll be fine, because I know better. If you're asking for Jess the second you get home, it's bad."

She was rambling, she knew she was rambling, but it was because she was so damned worried about him. The pills, the gun, the pain, the plea for the tests. Something was very wrong with him, and she just wanted him to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he saw her vehicle pull up in the driveway, Owen could not help the sigh of relief that escaped him. He let his hand slip from its grip on the breaker, and immediately swayed as the muted effects of the narcotics seemed to crash in around him all at once. Owen still hurt, but it wasn't even comparable to what he'd just let go of.

Cassandra's scolding made him flinch almost imperceptibly, and he did his best to make even that slight display non-existent. He offered her the best lopsided smile he could muster and tried to drag himself to his feet. It was obvious just how much effort the latter of those two took, and as the Seer continued to fuss over him he held up the hand he wasn't bracing the pillar with in surrender.

"I... I'm definitely not fine right now, darlin," he admitted. "But I will be, so don't worry. But I'm going to need more painkillers before these wear off, though something tells me once the doc has a look at me I'll be swimming in them."

Her rambling warmed his heart, and he couldn't help leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead when she reached him. Owen could feel her worry, and knew she was right about delaying his first trip out into the woods. However, what was done was done and nothing could change it. The best he could do now was try to be a comfort to her worry and a rock for her to cling to amidst her obvious turmoil.

"I... the only way I can describe it is I feel like someone crumpled me up like a piece of paper, then tried to smooth me back out by backing over me with a school bus," he said. "We... we should go, and I might need Dad's old wood cane from beside the fireplace."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's ramblings were stopped the second Owen pressed a kiss to her forehead and she smiled up at him, taking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, baby. I know you needed to go." His comment about the pain killers wasn't lost on her, and she paused a moment , considering him and his obvious inability to stand up straight, wondering if it was from the oxy or the pain. "Well, we'll see what the Doctor says," she said, pressing her hands gingerly to his torso. "Alright, let me go get your dad's cane."

She let go of him a moment and raced inside, finding the cane where Owen had told her it would be, then back out to his side, handing it to him, then moved to his other side, preparing to assist him to her car. "Let me help, please?"


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Daniel
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Owen took a deep breath when she returned with the cane, situating it in his left hand simply because that was the side he'd taken the most punishment on over the course of his lifetime. He knew Cass would remember the repeated low shots he had taken to his legs throughout his football career, and that unfortunately meant it was where he'd carried most of his pain from then on. When she came up to his other side, the mage nodded appreciatively.

"Yes... please help," he whispered in reply.

The drive to the hospital was torturous. Owen felt every single bump in the old country roads along with every sharp curve, but he let none of it on outwardly. By the time they reached the hospital, however, it was clear the drugs weren't affecting him nearly as much as the pain. Mercifully those attending provided him with a wheelchair, and for the next two hours he was put through a battery of tests.

It turned out that Owen's assessment of his own pain had been prophetic. Gravius had managed to crush him to the point that hundreds of microscopic fractures had begun to form in his skeleton from the stress. His X-rays looked like a building had been dropped on him, and to the average physician it would appear to be a miracle that the pain itself hadn't caused cardiac arrest.

Owen couldn't even speak by the time it was done, and he found himself in the waiting room seated beside Cass with his eyes closed another hour later. The painkillers were quickly fading by that point, and Owen was trying to think of anything besides his desire to wrap his hand around the leather instrument beneath his shirt as they awaited the news. Regardless of what it was, Owen was ready to be finished and find his way into either his bed or a hot bath, whichever came first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra paced the entire time Owen was with the X-ray technicians. When they finally wheeled him back out, it was a torturous hour of waiting in near silence, and evry white coat that walked past them, Cassandra perked up and met their gaze until they moved past them.

When Jessica finally came down the hallway, her expression left nothing to imagination. It was bad. Really, really bad. The witch swallowed the lump in her throat and helped to wheel Owen into the small consult room.

"Look, I had to really stick my neck out here to get the doctors to agree to let me break the news here. Owen, honey, I don't know what you've got into, but," she turned and flipped the light on the board where his X-rays were placed. "Do you see those dark marks all over your bones? Stress fractures, everywhere. Throughout your entire skeleton."

Cassandra slowly sank down onto the bed patients normally sat on, her hand slowly moving to cover her mouth as she tore her gaze from the board to Owen. "Oh God. Jess... what?"

"He'll heal, but it'll take up to six weeks, and that's with his good genetics of having magical parents. I'm not going to lie, though, if you don't take it easy, it could be two months. Now, Cass told me about the work you're doing. Katherine and I are familiar with them, we've given information to them about some big nasties we've seen breaking through. Owen, you can't go out there, not like that. If you get tangled up with one of them..."

"It could break you, literally into pieces," Cassandra finished.

"His skeleton anyway." Jessica clarified. "Rest, Ice - not heat, some weighted blankets... and a hell of a lot of anti inflammatories. Doc wants to send you home with some Oramorph, it's an sustained release pill form of morphine. You'll get thirty, and then a check up in two weeks. It's the best I can do with him. And consider yourself lucky, because he wanted to do fourteen and a check in one week."

Cassandra slowly reached out as Jessica spoke and gingerly took hold of his hand, in complete disbelief that he'd had those fractures the entire time they'd been out four days before. How had he functioned as well as he did? "Baby..." she couldn't think of anything else to say, she merely met his gaze, and her worry for him shone through as if it were written there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Page 9
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is that all? And I thought I was actually hurt," Owen couldn't help but joke, though his attempt was half-hearted at best.

Owen tilted his head at the X-rays Jessica placed up on the backlit board, his eyebrows raising further with each word she spoke. He had suspected something like this might be the case, but to actually see it... that was something else. The look on Cassandra's face broke his heart even more, and he couldn't help but feel guilty for dragging her into it. He took a deep breath as they both continued to speak to him, soaking it all in.

He knew the dangers the monsters posed in the Sunset Woods, and as adamantly as he wanted to protest he knew at that point they were right. He also knew that the backlash of trying to heal such a high level of aggravated damage to his skeletal structure could easily kill him in his current condition. Owen hated to admit it, but he was being put on the PUP list for the time being.

The drugs Jessica mentioned made Owen groan a little. He hated the way morphine made him feel. It was almost like being soul-numb, and it cut him off almost completely from the one thing that had been his companion for so long. Pain. Still, he had no choice at that point with Cass seated there, and offered Jess a thankful smile.

"Thanks Jess, for everything," he said. "I'll have to contact the Consilium to let them know, and hope I still have a job once it's all said and done."

He turned to Cass once the other woman had handed them the perscription and left the room, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Hey, don't look at me like that, darlin. I didn't know... I mean I don't know... I don't know if I can... how am I supposed to...?" He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts into a coherent sentence even as his anxiety began to overwhelm him.

"I've never dealt with this sort of thing... not like this. It's always been something I could play through, or fight through, or shunt aside and ignore... but I can't do that with this..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled softly at Owen and nodded. "I know you didn't know." She hated how he couldn't form a coherent sentence, and knew exactly where he was coming from. How to deal with something when the very concept of it was lost on you? She shook her head in response to his final statement and took in a deep breath. "I'll help you, baby. I promise I will. I'm here for you, no matter what you need."

She smiled and tilted her head as she considered the wheelchair he was in. "Might have to Professor X it for a while though... best looking one yet." she smiled and gave him a wink before moving around in front of him to crouch down and placed her hands on his legs. "You'll be fine, and I doubt Jess would mind checking in on you if you need anything either. But I think Paige and Dan should be told, if only to make sure you don't over do when I can't be there," she gave yet another wink to soften her words.

She knew Owen too well, he would be stubborn and wouldn't rest to allow his bones to set properly. She had to get as many people told to make certain he not only rested, but that he wasn't over doing the pain killers either. With Rachael's words rolling around in her head, and suddenly the memory that her nightmare wasn't a nightmare, and he knew it and didn't say anything when she'd told him what she'd seen she grew quiet, a distant look moving into her gaze for a moment.

She took in a deep breath and stood again, leaning over him in the chair to press her forehead against his. "Baby, you'll get through this. Because you're strong, damn it." She knew her words could be looked into a bit deeper if he chose to pay that close attention to them. She had told Owen that she would visit Rachael and Cassandra knew that he could always read her like an open book.

The big question was, would he read her properly then?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen sighed heavily and couldn't keep the downcast expression from his countenance. He hated being helpless, and the absolute last thing he wanted was for his mother to dote over him for days on end. The woman didn't work, and would insist on being as annoying as humanly possible. The mage still wasn't used to being around his family, and while Rachael wouldn't be so bad, their mother could be an absolute nightmare when he was playing football.

When Cassandra crouched down in front of him, he came to a sudden realization. His gaze met hers, and he realized just what a blessing he had in front of him. She was there for him, no matter what, regardless of the ugliness of his scars or the brokenness of his mind and body. To Cass it didn't matter, because he was a treasured gift that she loved more than anything else except her little girl. He couldn't help but smirk a little at her Professor X joke, but the mention of Dan and Paige struck the note he had already been dreading.

Cassandra's fear that he would be able to read into the situation was completely lost to Owen, as was the realization that her conversation with Rachael would make her privy to information he really wouldn't have wanted her to have. Had he known that she was told about his attempted suicide, Owen wouldn't have been able to handle the guilt and remorse associated with it in that moment. He was already too overwhelmed by his epiphany about just how blessed he was versus his self-loathing and perceived wretchedness to deal with knowing how he his attempt to kill himself would hurt her.

Thankfully, she distracted him beautifully without intending to. Her forehead resting against his and those certain, special words that she spoke to him made his breath catch in his throat. Her mere presence and closeness to him was enough to derail all of his analytical skills in that moment. It took every ounce of his focus to keep from losing his composure such that he had none of it left with which to analyze her. Owen knew it was stupid, selfish, and even childish, but in that moment the only person he wanted around, the only person he wanted to be responsible for his care was her.

"I'd rather Mom and Dad not know if at all possible," he whispered. "Rachael... fine. She deserves to know what she saved me from. But I can't... I can't deal with mom. She'll be unbearable. I know it's not fair to ask, not after... not after what I... after I abandoned you... but don't tell her? I'd rather stay here at the hospital than her find out..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smirked as he made mention of how overbearing Paige would be. She knew what she would have rather happen. She wanted Owen to come home with her, to start making their life together that they'd been denied for far too long. There was too much to be said before that, to both Owen and Melinda.

"Alright," she said softly. "I won't say anything to your mom or dad. I'd... I'd offer a more solitary space, but..." she trailed off, sighing heavily. "There's too much to be said before I can offer that. Let's get you out of here and get your pain meds. I might be able to see if Damita has anything that could help speed up the healing process, even if it's a little bit. Alysandra has been specializing in potions too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen knew exactly what Cassandra meant by a more solitary space and shook his head. "It wouldn't be right for me to intrude on your life like that. Maybe someone else in the coven would be able to hide me away until this blows over?" he added with a weak chuckle. He was only half kidding, and truly wanted to stay as far away from his parents as he could while in his current condition. "Pain meds... good idea."

As Cass began to wheel him out of the hospital, he allowed his head to rest back against her midriff and closed his eyes. "Alysandra I remember... who's Damita?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra grinned and tilted her head. "You remember I said that Makayla found a sister she didn't know she had? That's Damita. She didn't know what her powers were until we found her, and she just fit in with the coven perfectly. Alys has been helping her with her potions, and she's taken to them expertly." She finished the latter after a a couple of people in scrubs moved past them on their way out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's explanation was more than enough to satisfy Owen's curiosity, and he let out a soft sigh as he simply tried to relax. "All right, well whatever you think might help. Frankly I'll leave my stubborn ass at the door if it takes a week or two off my recovery time. Seriously though, who can hide me from mom? Cause she's nuts."

Now that he knew what was wrong with him, Owen swore he felt every last bit of it. Getting into Cassandra's car was an ordeal he never could have imagined, and he couldn't even bring himself to pull the seatbelt on due to the added pressure it put on him. Once she was settled into the driver's seat he let his head fall to the side to look at her.

"Lucky that Brachyoth turned out to be friendly the other day..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Seriously?" she asked with a smirk. "I could arrange a sleep over for Melinda with mom." she paused, unsure if she had mentioned her daughter's name to Owen yet, with all the talking they had done before he left. "She's been wanting to spend more one on one time with her, and mom's been itching to take her window shopping for the holidays coming up. You can stay with me, Owen."

She wasn't entirely sure it would be a good thing for them to be in such close proximity, but with everything Owen was going through then, she was certain nothing would happen until he was better, if only to be certain that they wouldn't break him. She turned the engine over and backed out of the parking spot before he spoke and rose an eyebrow. "Should I even ask what in the hell a Brachyoth is?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That made Owen swallow hard. He hadn't really expected Cass to press on the idea of him staying with her, but it wasn't like they were teenagers anymore. He took a deep breath as they drove, his mind racing with everything that she had suddenly filled it with. Owen decided it might be best to simply let himself just accept what she was offering and see where it went rather than worry about the more terrifying prospects of time alone with her.

"If it really won't upset things in your life, Cass. I can't thank you enough for your offer. I've missed you... I would spend every moment with you if I could. As for a Brachyoth... you probably don't want to know right now. Maybe someday I'll take you out to the woods and show you what I do? Remember the fun we used to have by the old creek? My campsite is next to a mountain waterfall." he said with a wink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It won't, I swear it," she promised and smiled over at him. "Do me a favor?" she reached into her purse as she pulled onto the highway and handed her phone over to him. "Open mom's text, and ask if Melinda can stay tonight. Trust me, she won't know the difference. Mel uses my phone to text her all the time and she can't tell the difference."

She winked over at him, then thought about the old creek, oh she remembered alright. "I remember being told it was fun to go in about this time of year, and I almost froze to death because I'm not Scandinavian. I saw your site, it looked beautiful." she admitted with a slight blush.

Her inviting him had a multipurpose to it. For one, she'd be able to keep an eye on him and take care of him without Paige going overboard, secondly she could fulfill her promise to Rachael, and finally she'd be able to keep an eye on his pain med intake. She wouldn't admit any of them except the first purpose to him, she didn't need him thinking she thought he was an invalid. Far from it, she just cared about his well being, and really didn't want any more nightmares of him trying to kill himself. She wanted him happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Cassandra handed him the phone, Owen nodded with a smile and did as she asked. After a brief conversation with Katherine he placed the phone back into her bag and simply tried to relax. He smirked at her mention of him tossing her into the icy waters of the Sycamore Creek, unable to stop the chuckle that bubbled forth. The Necromage sighed thoughtfully as they pulled up to the drive-thru pharmacy, handing her the slip of paper.

"It is beautiful," he agreed. "But nothing could compare to the view I have sitting right beside me."

He wondered why Cass was so insistent on him staying with her, but he wasn't about to voice the thought. Frankly, Owen would have done anything to be with her short of disrupting her relationship with her child. Still, he hated that their time together would be marked by him being put out of commission by a disabling injury, but figured she really did just miss him that much.

"So what do they do now? Your coven-mates, I mean. You know, to earn a living?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blush worked firmly onto Cassandra's cheeks as he spoke and couldn't help the slight giggle that worked its way up. She handed the paper over to the pharmacist and asked for it that night. She was assured that it'd be finished in a couple of hours and she turned to Owen then as she started to pull away from the window. "That should give us enough time to get to your parent's place grab anything you'll need, and get it back to my house. Mom said she'd stop by my house and pack Mel's bag while we were out so I wouldn't have to worry..."

She knew he'd wonder how she knew that and laughed softly. "Mom's good. She sent me a vision," she paused a moment, considering the question he'd posed before she responded. "Makayla is chef at the Inn, so technically she works for me. Alys makes all the soaps I use in the rooms, so she works for me. Miranda and I kind of Co-own the Inn together, she takes care of the landscaping and upkeep, and our inventory, I take the books and the desk. Being we're a tourist town, it makes things easy to run a business that's tourist dependent. Mom started working with city developers with Jess, so the Butterfly is advertised on billboards around the highways. Lee, she's an author now, two books out, very adult... but that's Leandra for you. Emmit doesn't seem to mind. Damita works out of a spa in the City, Alysandra makes the oils and lotions for the spa. Caleb and Conner... they've, well they're kinda doing what you're doing, magical bounty hunters. Except Conner's more vigilante, he's on the police force, so he intercepts on our behalf. And Karen, well she's all hot shot pop slash rock star, isn't around as much anymore."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen took mental notes of everything Cass described when it came to the remaining members of the coven who still lived in the town. It didn't surprise him how many of them were connected to her financially, but he had to wonder if they weren't putting too many eggs in one basket. Still, it was clear they were all doing very well because of the nearby beach and scenic lighthouse landscapes. This place had been his home, and he loved it.

"Your mom probably knew when I popped that cherry too," he said without thinking, then immediately blushed. He couldn't contain the laugh that followed, despite wanting to immediately apologize for his crass phrasing. "Then again, she also told you that I was alive when I hit that eight-pointer and rolled my truck... So I can't be too upset."

That memory left a more somber taste in his mouth, and he remained silent as they drove to his parents house. By the time they arrived, the mage was sweating from the stress on his physical form. Owen had called ahead to Njord, who brought out a duffel bag stuffed with everything the mage had asked for, including some herbal medication he wasn't sure Cass would approve of. The Bloodrage stopped when he saw Cass, offering her a grin.

"I should have known Owen wouldn't waste any time once he got back home," Njord said. He opened his mouth to continue, but a look of death from Owen behind Cassandra's back promptly shut him up.

"I-uh... I mean he talked about you a lot back in the day... Forgive my rudeness," he deflected. "I'm Njord Camareno. You must be Cass."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra couldn't help the laughter at his choice of words then nodded. "Oh, she knew. Of course she knew, If only you could have seen the look she gave me when I saw her after that." She allowed the conversation to fall into silence, finding comfort there as she drove the familiar route to Dan and Paige's home.

As she pulled into the drive she smiled as she saw the form on the porch, thinking it may have been Dan at first before Njord stepped off the step. She hit the brake a little harder than she meant to and instantly looked over at Owen to offer him her apologetic look before she pressed the button to put the window down. She smiled up at him and started to reach for the bag then stopped as he spoke. She blushed lightly and looked down at the steering wheel.

"That I am. Cassandra Makali. He talked about me a lot, huh?" she asked, looking over at Owen mischievously. "Funny, not a word about you, though I did see you with him in the woods while he was gone. I'm glad he's got a good friend in you, considering what you are." she gave a light wink, already familiar with the Uratha given Conner's bloodline and the small pack that helped the Coven protect Duskmarsh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Bloodrage blushed a little himself. "Yeah well he always used to talk about 'that girl from back home', and if you're not her than your her sister. I'll tell you the story of how I met him sometime," he added with a wink. "I remember one time the three of us-"

"Thanks for getting this stuff together, bro," Owen replied with just a hint of a growl. "And stay away from my sister! I'll call Scotty for you in the morning and you just be sure to stay out of trouble."

"Right, no spoilers," Njord said with a mirthless chuckle. "Take care of my boy."
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Daniel
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Page 10
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The words 'three of us' were not lost on her. Cassandra arched an eyebrow and looked back and forth from Owen to Njord a moment before giving a smile to the Uratha. "Always." She put the car into gear and started back down the drive. "You think Njord would try anything with Rachael?" She asked, not even believing the words herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I would have killed him in the forest if I thought that even possible of him," Owen replied simply. It was callously casual how he spoke of ending the life of another being. "But Njord is a good, honorable man, and a brother. I have nothing to worry about. Just like you never did with me."

He winced as a subtle shift sent pain shooting through him and groaned. "By the time we're done with... Da-Damita? Yeah, I'm hoping they've got my scrip ready after that. Mine wore off hours ago. Just because I can push through the pain doesn't mean it's not there."

Owen hoped his admission would distract her for the time being, having caught the way she hung onto what Njord said. He wanted to beat the Bloodrage to death for it, but they were already gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra giggled softly at the initial statement. "I find it funny how you said that to him then. So serious." she taunted, and turned on the road to head toward Damita's. She checked the time on the dash and nodded. "I think so. We'll stop at my place and drop your bag off. Dam doesn't live far from me." She reached out to gingerly take hold of his hand.

"We'll get it soon, baby," she said in an attempt to reassure him. "Short of going electribitch on them, we can't get it any sooner."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return and nodded. "I wish they'd found something else. I also need to kill whoever gave me bad intelligence on Sellus Gravius... the fucker. Would have dropped Rachael into a portal to get her away and crash landed a plane on the bastard from a half mile away instead of running in there like an idiot with my sword."

Owen shut up promptly, realizing he could have just exposed himself for what he was. Then again, he'd always had an ability to replicate the effects of magic by imbuing little trinkets with the abilities other supernaturals would allow him to do so. He and Rachael had been forced to survive a different way as kids than their own cousins, having had no magic of their own.

"I hate that our first few days together again have to be like this..." he said somberly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra swallowed roughly as he spoke and didn't speak again until she'd stopped in her driveway. "Owen, I'm going to ask you a question, and please, don't skirt the truth." She knew how he'd always done that in high school, especially where any experiments with charms would go, or hell, even his pain levels from football. After the glimpse she'd gotten in the Inn of shadows surrounding him, she was certain he was into something dark.

She shifted the car into park and turned in her seat to face him. "How on Earth would you have crashed a plane on Gravius and survived... and do this after dropping your sister through a portal?"

She hated that their first few days were comprised of X-rays and fractured skeletons as well, but even more so, she hated not knowing what Owen had been through. Between Owen's words and then Njord's apparent slip of the tongue saying there'd been three of them, she realized she was even more in the dark about his time away than she truly thought possible. She realized she knew absolutely nothing, and if anything would come of him staying with her, she hoped it would be her getting at least a candle light shone on the last fifteen years for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen mentally kicked himself for Cassandra's question, though he could answer it in such a way as to fulfill the prerequisite requirements and leave out more pertinent information. He sighed heavily and shook his head. Well, time to see if she'd let it go.

"I wouldn't be the one operating the aircraft, dearest," he said simply. Owen concluded in his own mind that that should be enough of an answer. But upon seeing Cassandra's disappointed expression couldn't stop himself from adding. "And because I uh... Rachael and I both... came of age so to speak. I'm a mage, and she's a Fire Elemental."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, Cassandra despised when he did that. Skirted the truth, and she knew it was what he was doing. She didn't truly expect the answer he gave, however. it shocked the hell out of her, and her jaw dropped as he gave her the truth. That explained the shadows she'd seen. "You're..." she trailed off and swallowed roughly, starting to blink rapidly. "Wow, you're a Mage. You're... You can more than handle yourself out there, no wonder you went to the Consilium!" A grin spread on her lips, and she brought the hand she held up to her lips to kiss the back of it. "Thank God, I don't have to worry as much."

She quickly brought her finger up to point it at him and gave him a smirk. "I said as much, I'm still going to worry about you." her smirk grew and she gave him a wink. "Want to wait here? I'll bring your bag inside."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen smiled when Cass kissed his hand, nodding slowly. "Yeah, just don't go spreading that information around. I mean... unless you think I could be a threat I'd rather the coven not even know. And you shouldn't be too worried. I don't have the ability to absorb damage like the Bloodrage can, but I'm not entirely squishy."

He answered her next question with a nod and thanks, taking a deep breath and doing his best to just rest back against the seat as Cassandra left the car. Owen stared out the window beside him, not seeing the countryside but beyond it. His eyes glazed over as his mind drifted back to a place long past, a time when he hadn't even had Njord...

[Background Music: "The Terrible Demise of Coffee Man" - Jeff Williams]

The Necromage silently moved along the rafters, following the beams across the length of the warehouse toward the third story office. Owen could see the drop ceiling from his current vantage point, and knew his way in. The offices were the only logical place for the criminal to be hiding, but with Mages things were never so simple. Owen closed his eyes and took a deep breath, bringing his prepared Paranormal Sight rote to bear.

When his eyes opened once more, everything was awash with color and energy. Lines intersected to show the relationships between objects, people, and the very fabric of the universe. It took years of training and experience to fully understand what they were looking at, and a lifetime of study on the even more complex nature of how the Pattern was woven. All mages were taught to decipher the different styles and colors of the weaves, and Owen was no different.

There were no wards in place to protect the area, which did not sit right with him. Owen knew that even the weakest Mages were highly intelligent people. It was a requirement of the job, and while not all of them were good with military tactics even the lowest squib knew enough to ward. The offices did have a slight magical resonance, but it was muted and hard to detect.

He moved closer, edging carefully along the beams as he approached his target. No matter what happened, he was a necromancer with a lot of guns. Agent Halcyon did the impossible on a daily basis, and it wasn't always clear if it wasn't just for the fun of proving he could. The Necromage reached his destination, looking down at drop ceiling below. His lips moved, forming the verbal component of his rote albeit silently. Behind his visor, the Mage's eyes glowed briefly and upon returning to normal he could see through the drop ceiling as if it were glass.

In the room below, three guards stood around talking. There was no sign of the Aethermage, but Owen decided to get a closer look. He hooked his ankles together, locking them around the I-beam and hanging upside down. This got him several feet closer to the ceiling, and allowed him to overhear the conversation the two closest were having while the third walked away.

"You ever wonder why we're here?" the first asked.

"It's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?" the second replied. "I mean, did we really evolve from a series of cosmic coincidences, or is there really some sort of intelligent design? Is it watching us, or playing with us like pawns in a game of chess? I don't know, man, but I think about it a lot."

There was a long pause before the second looked at the first. "What? I meant why are we here in this warehouse guarding an escaped convict from the authorities?"

"Huh? Oh..."

"What were you saying abou-"

Owen dropped through the opening he had created by removing one of the panels in the ceiling, landing atop the first guard and knocking him to the floor. Halcyon turned to the second just as he looked up with a grunt of confusion. A look of realization came over the man's face, but as he made to raise his weapon Owen delivered a vicious ridgehand to his throat. The guard's gun popped up into the air as his hands went to his crushed windpipe, and Owen snatched the rifle in mid-flight and spun to bring the stock crashing into the man's temple.

The third turned around at the commotion just as Halcyon snapped the neck of the guard he landed on. He raised his rifle with an exclamation of surprise, but the wizard was faster. He moved quickly, closing the distance between them in less than a second. A flash of steel saw the soldier's arm sliced off at the elbow, taking his trigger finger and the rifle with it. Owen followed that up by grabbing the man's hair and slamming it into his armored knee. Without the protection of a helmet, the guard's skull cracked like a Grecian urn and he fell to the floor dead.

Owen drew himself back up to full height and looked around the room. There seemed to be no clear exit other than the one leading back to the warehouse, but he was not yet ready to consider it a dead end. No one was aware of his presence yet, so he decided to take a moment to look around. His own magic was heavily suppressed, which told him there was definitely something hidden. Finding it would be difficult without the aid of his arcane arts, but Halcyon had learned a long time ago not to rely solely on his magic to survive. It was a tool, not the only option.

A scan of the garbage bin revealed something interesting. A black plastic bag lined the bin, but Owen could see no clear bottom. A smirk played upon his lips beneath the visor of his helmet as he reached down into the disposal bin. When he was halfway up to his shoulder and still did not find the bottom, Halcyon knew he had found the Aethermage's hiding place.

The mercenary stepped back, moving several feet away before quickly inscribing a rune on the ground with chalk. Footsteps began to echo from the base of the staircase, letting him know there was not much time before he was discovered. The rune was necessary due to the heavy concentration of magic suppressing spells in the area, and served as a supernatural antenna designed to punch through the interference and access the Quintessence.

He could hear the sounds of indistinct chatter as the guards approached, calculating the time remaining until they reached him in a millisecond. Halcyon finished the rune and immediately planted his left gauntlet in the center of it. Owen spoke a single word of power, and when the rune began to glow he stepped away and raised his firearm.

The garbage can suddenly began to shake. Over the course of several seconds, the vibration grew more violent until it spat out a human being. Owen regarded the man carefully as he rose to one knee, keeping his gun trained on him. The Aethermage looked up at him, and immediately froze in place upon seeing the weapon leveled his direction.

"My guess is you're not working for the people who arranged my early release?"

"Shut up, you can either come with me in binders willingly, or I can drag you back to the authorities by your hair," Halcyon said.

"Doesn't sound like I have much of a choice, since you're the one with the gun and magic is suppressed in this room," the convict replied. "However, I think the people who do work for whoever broke me out are at the door."

Owen glanced over at the door just as footsteps stopped outside of it. Thinking quickly, he moved over to the convict and quickly bound his wrists behind his back. Just as he finished and placed his pistol to the Aethermage's head, the door opened and three more guards poured in. They spotted the two occupants immediately and raised their rifles.

"Hey guys," Halcyon attempted. "I've secured the prisoner for transfer."

"I'd be more inclined to believe that if there weren't dead bodies on the floor," the one in the middle spat."

"I figured I'd give it a shot," the mercenary replied. He punctuated his sentence by firing a single bullet directly at the one who spoke. The round pierced the guard's visor and punched through the cheekbone, sending him to the ground in a heap. By the time the other two opened fire, Owen had already hauled the Aethermage through the third story window as the resulting shots shattered it. The pair fell backward over the edge, landing sideways on the metal staircase half a floor below and rolling to the next level plane.


Owen was completely zoned out by the time Cassandra came back. It was almost as though his subconscious was giving him something to absorb his thoughts and take his mind off of his physical condition, and while not entirely peaceful it was clear he wasn't reliving something horrifying at the moment. He didn't even notice her taking a seat beside him as he stared into that faraway place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled at him before getting out of the car. "I won't say a word. You'd better watch how you're saying things around them though," she finished with a wink and pushed her door open to run inside.

It took her longer within the house than she'd planned, and looked over the room she used as an at home office for the Inn, and thought of the stairs Owen would have to take to get to the spare bedroom, frowning. She didn't want to just assume that he wouldn't be able to take the stairs, and yet wanted to consider his options before they were faced with the dilemma.

She let out a little sigh and turned putting her back to the office, looking over the stairs and into the kitchen. She'd bought the house outright only three years prior, in hopes that one day she'd have Owen in it, that he would return despite the more realistic ones in the Coven telling her it was too much of a home for her and Melinda. They didn't give much thought into her wanting to have at least one more child to put in the spare bedroom. Forget wanting the man she loved more than anything in the home with her, sharing her bed, holding her at night. All of that was her driving motivation for going after the home when it came onto the market.

Now, now Owen sat in her car, ready to stay in her home, the home she desperately wanted to call theirs. He was home, he was magical, and all that was needed was for her to tell him the one piece of information that she'd revealed to Rachael. Only problem was, when would she tell him?

Cassandra shook herself from her reverie and hurried back out of the house, knowing she couldn't make Owen wait for long, he was hurting and needed her. She climbed back into the car, seeing the far away look in his eyes and slowly reached out to brush the backs of her fingers against his before taking his hand again. "Sorry, took me longer than I thought it would."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen was completely lost to the outside world, and gripped Cassandra's hand more out of reflex than response. Her words may as well have been to a brick wall, not because he was ignoring her but due to the fact he simply wasn't there. The mage didn't exist in that moment, rather somewhere else in the past.

[Background Music: "Crazy on You" - Heart]

Owen hauled the man to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his collar and ducking his head as the entire warehouse began unloading their weapons in his direction. Agent Halcyon dragged them around a corner and behind the cover of a shipping crate as he exchanged his handgun for a sub machine gun. He looked over at his charge, and deciding it was too dangerous to keep pulling the convict around behind him delivered a sharp elbow to his temple.

A concussion was worth the risk if it kept him from getting killed, which was still likely. Owen dragged the prisoner's unconscious body into a safe, dark corner before setting up against the onslaught. Halcyon checked the corner, pulling his head back just as gunfire attempted to perforate his visor. He muttered a curse as he reached into his belt, drawing a grenade and flicking the safety off. He took a step back, hurling the explosive in an arc over the container and into the middle of the warehouse.

When it detonated, Halcyon used the distraction to dart out from behind cover and sprint toward the enemy position. He felt the suppression field evaporate around him as he ran clear of its radius, and immediately fired a spell toward the nearest enemy emplacement. The two occupants suddenly screamed in agony as their flesh became covered with blisters and rivulets of puss. Their bones twisted, blackend, and crumbled to ash as their very forms were afflicted with the rot of the grave.

Using mana to ease the passage of his spells during combat was something Owen had always done. He dared not risk magical paradox unless he could help it, and the same held true as he rolled behind another trailer oriented parallel to the walls on either side of him. Gunfire continued to ring out, but now there was definite confusion and terror in the ranks. Owen sprinted from behind cover once more, leaping over a concrete divider to plant a kick in a guard's chest. The strike sent him to the floor, giving Owen the time he needed to fire a round from his shotgun into the man's torso at point blank range.

A bullet whizzed by Halcyon's head from a gun no more than ten meters away. The mercenary planted a hard kick into the ribs of the recently deceased guard beside him, sending the corpse flying into the shooter. Both went to the floor in a heap, but Owen had already moved on. He ran directly into the heart of the enemy, gunfire raining all around him in an attempt to track him down.

Agent Halcyon drove a hard punch into the nearest guard, sending him spiraling to the ground. Another moved up behind him, but was sent back the way he came with a vicious snap-kick delivered to his chest. Owen spun, smashing a backfist against the side of the same guard's jaw to knock him down. The Nethermage flicked his wrist at another small group of guards, and the next time they fired their weapons they detonated from a critical malfunction caused by an improvised Matter spell.

As those enemies dropped to the ground, Owen charged another position. He leaped into the air, delivering a flying, spinning back-kick to the stomach of the first. The man doubled over with a grunt, flying backward into a container with enough force to dent the metal. Halcyon landed, grabbing the barrel of a rifle angled at his head and forcing it upward just as rounds burst forth from the tip. He yanked the rifle free of the guard's hands, causing him to stumble forward into Owen's boot as he planted it into the man's chest and rode him down to the ground.

Owen hurled the rifle at the third, delivering a point-blank shotgun blast to the head of the man beneath his boot as the rifle caught its target in the throat. Agent Halcyon spun, dropped to one knee, and fired on the fourth and final enemy. A fistful of shot peppered the man's upper torso and the bottom half of his skull with holes, dropping him. The lone remaining enemy was still struggling to breathe as Owen turned his head around backwards without hesitation, killing him.

With the field reduced by half, Halcyon knew his work would only get more dangerous. As he dove behind a series of large shelves, grenades exploded in his wake. He rolled on his shoulder and came back up to his feet at a full run, circling the shelving racks and coming up behind the enemy position. Owen had replaced his shotgun with his twin sub machine guns, and immediately opened fire upon coming into range of the enemy.

Bullets erupted from the barrels of his weapons, shredding enemy troops as he alternated squeezing the triggers. When one ran out, he hurled it at the nearest guard to knock him down. When another rushed him with a rifle bayonet Halcyon dropped to one knee and cut him in half from groin to skull with the remainder of his second sub machine gun. He spun away from a fifty caliber sniper round just as it pierced his magical barrier. The round seemed to decay in mid-flight inches from the mercenary's shoulder, and he knew without it there he would probably be missing an arm.

Several more shots rang out as Halcyon rushed from cover to cover, unable to finish off the squad he had just charged as a result. They took the initiative and moved up to cut off his escape as the snipers pinned him down behind a cargo container. Things were not looking good, and his options were running out by the second. Owen had to think fast, and scanned his surroundings for something he could use to escape his current predicament.

"Fred!" Owen called. Almost immediately a small, red-skinned apparition with a hooked nose and long pointed ears appeared before the mage, hovering in mid-air near his shoulder. It was composed of Nether energy, and resembled a goblin-like imp. Fred grinned wickedly, drumming his talons together with glee. "I need to throw up a hail mary, and I need you to guide me."

"What can I kill for you, master?"

"Nothing, just guide my spell and stay hidden," Halcyon scolded. "We don't want any abyssal holes or splinching Patterns from this, so make it good."

Gunfire opened up around the corner, and only a hip-shot with his sidearm saved agent Halcyon from getting perforated. His shot penetrated his adversary's chest plate, driving through the armor and into his lung. The man dropped dead, giving Owen the window he needed. He took a step back, pointing at the snipers' position in the towers. Fred leaped into action, vanishing from view and appearing behind the enemy sharpshooters.

Owen used his connection to Fred as a direct line to cast his spell. The familiar acted like a conduit, allowing for him to cast magic without having to see where it was landing. Despite the deranged and sometimes violent nature of the imp, he was damn handy. Agent Halcyon closed his eyes, whispering a word of power to give his spell more kick as he cast it.

The snipers continued to take potshots at the container Owen was hiding behind for a moment before a sudden change in their surroundings forced them to stop. A glowing blue energy force field sprang up in a dome around the gunmen, spinning on an invisible axis. It was semi-transparent and composed of interlaced threads of code that seemed to move against the rotation of the sphere.

With the enemy sharpshooters out of the picture, Halcyon could once again focus on cleaning up the remaining guards. He moved swiftly through the formations, summoning forth a blade of pure arcane energy. It had a straight, single edge and swirled with black, gold, and green around a white core of celestial fire. Every mage created a spell to conjure one, and each was as unique as the one who wielded it.

As he rushed the enemy position from a different angle this time, Owen brought his weapon to bear. The first strike saw a guard sliced in half from shoulder to hip, and Halcyon pressed his attack with a spinning slash that decapitated the second. The lone remaining soldier fired a round that was absorbed against Owen's armor before being summarily cut down by the mercenary's blade.

Halcyon looked up at where the sharpshooters were still contained behind his spell, knowing there was only a few seconds left before it expired. He sprinted to where he had left his charge and quickly threw the Aethermage over his shoulder. As he ran toward the exit, Halcyon threw a pair of sticky bombs at the support beams holding up the snipers' catwalk. The shield expired a moment later, and immediately sniper fire began to track his movements once more.

Owen depressed the button on his detonator, causing the supports to explode and the structure to buckle beneath its own weight. The snipers collapsed along with it, taking them once more out of the picture. Agent Halcyon ran as hard as he could toward Erana's position and to the pickup. He went to grab her wrist as he ran by, but she was not there. It was at that moment he heard the truck's engine rev up and saw his young partner's head pop into view in the driver's side window.

The mercenary let out a sigh of relief upon seeing her, but two steps away from the vehicle a shot rang out. Pain ripped through the mage's leg as a fifty caliber round ripped through his shields and armor, penetrating his right knee. Were it not for his defenses, Owen likely would have lost the leg. The Aethermage crashed against the truck and landed hard upon the ground.

Owen turned to see the sniper appear through the smoke left in the wake of the recent explosion, the guard's rifle leveled directly at his head. He held up a hand, creating a ward of solid air just as his enemy fired another shot. A gasp escaped the mercenary as the bullet froze inches from his visor, stopped completely by the spell he had cast. A distinct click signalled the shooter as out of ammunition, and before he could reload Owen fired half a dozen shots from his sidearm into the man's torso.

With his adversary out of the picture, Halcyon hauled himself up onto his good leg. He forced his armor to lock down around the affected area to prevent bleeding out and gathered the not so unconscious Aethermage and tossed him into the back of the truck before climbing into the passenger side. Owen slammed the door and punched the dashboard in frustration.

"Go."


Those last few shots drew visible flinches from Owen. To him it felt like he was still there, lying on the pavement and just waiting for his adversary to reload. He could smell the blood, taste the dust in the air, and feel the unbearable pulse in his leg from the gunshot. Absently his hand moved from hers to gently rub the side of his thigh, and he chewed on his bottom lip from the stress building up in him as he tried to escape his own memory.

Owen knew where he was, when he was then, but like a nightmare he couldn't figure out where the exit was. He searched a seemingly endless maze for the door, but all that stared back at him were the mirrored reflections of his past. The mage was paralyzed physically and mentally in that moment, and it was a truly terrifying place to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra could remember getting lost in her own thoughts, how debilitating it was, but necessary for recovery. She drove them to Damita's home, a one story two bedroom place that may have looked like a mobile home, but was truly a home worth having for her.

However once she put the car in park again, she turned to him and pulled his hand between both of hers, kissing his knuckles. "Where are you, baby? Look at me. Look at me, come on." Not having him glance at her, rubbing his leg as if the pain were more than he could handle, it terrified her. She reached out, still holding onto his hand with one of hers and cupped his cheek to turn his face to hers. "Owen?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until Cassandra turned his head to face her purposefully that Owen was snapped out of his reverie. When she came into focus in the foreground, he suddenly felt her soft fingertips moving over his jawline. Everything came crashing back to reality, but Owen made no outward sign other than to blink a few times as he settled on her emerald gaze.

The infinite depths of her eyes served to ground him within moments, and he swallowed hard as his heart hammered behind his ribs like he had literally just been in the combat himself. Owen felt the immediate urge to apologize, but instead caught himself before it could verbalize entirely.

"I-... Thank you," he said softly, cutting his gaze away a moment later. He could tell he'd scared her a little. That made him wonder if it was of him or for him, though his rational mind would give him the obvious answer were it not clouded with anxiety. The compassion in her eyes spoke volumes, but that didn't make it any easier for him to look at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until Cassandra turned his head to face her purposefully that Owen was snapped out of his reverie. When she came into focus in the foreground, he suddenly felt her soft fingertips moving over his jawline. Everything came crashing back to reality, but Owen made no outward sign other than to blink a few times as he settled on her emerald gaze.

The infinite depths of her eyes served to ground him within moments, and he swallowed hard as his heart hammered behind his ribs like he had literally just been in the combat himself. Owen felt the immediate urge to apologize, but instead caught himself before it could verbalize entirely.

"I-... Thank you," he said softly, cutting his gaze away a moment later. He could tell he'd scared her a little. That made him wonder if it was of him or for him, though his rational mind would give him the obvious answer were it not clouded with anxiety. The compassion in her eyes spoke volumes, but that didn't make it any easier for him to look at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes. I'd like to meet her, actually," Owen replied, more for the same reasons Cass had than he would ever have admitted. Despite having every desire to be independent, he allowed her to get the wheelchair out for him and push him along. As tired as he was from everything, Owen was afraid to close his eyes lest he fall asleep. When they finally entered the building, Owen was struggling silently to stay awake. Exhaustion was really beginning to overcome him, but like her he hadn't wanted to be alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra gave a quick knock before letting herself into the Latina's home, smiling as she saw her in the kitchen. "Hey."

Damita turned, a smile on her features before she stopped, her jaw dropped. "This is Owen?"

"Yes...?" Cassandra asked, the question narrowing her eyes a bit.

"I just imagined him taller..." Damita said with a wink toward Owen before she giggled at the glare on Cassandra's face. "Oh, lighten up!" she giggled again at her own pun and moved to a cupboard to pull a couple of four ounce mason jars down. "These should help. I can't guarantee how much, but it should help take the ache out and stop the guarding process of the muscles to allow for quicker healing."

"Anything to help him, Damita," Cassandra said, glancing down at Owen before looking back to her covenmate.

Damita stopped and a smile worked its way from her lips all the way to her eyes. "She never stopped talking about you," she said to Owen. "Never gave up hope. I don't think she knows how. She kept a lot of us going through some scrapes."

"Dam..." Cassandra groaned.

"It's the truth! Hell, without you, Cass, I may not be here, let alone here with Krys..."

"How is he?"

Damita shrugged and gestured down the hallway. "Napping now. Could you tell Makayla he needs more? You'll probably talk to her before I will."

"Not if you pick up a phone."

The Latina spread her arms to indicate the kitchen which was bustling with something on the stove, a double boiler on the table, and lines of oils and other assorted ingredients beside it. "When do I have time? Alys and I are behind on orders. Especially where soaps are concerned, the last guest you had ordered six months worth of it."

Cassandra's eyebrows rose in shock and she laughed slightly as she looked down at Owen. "What'd I tell you? Alys and Dam are good at what they do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Page 11
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen smirked at the Latina when he heard her comment about height, and had half a mind to stand up just to give her a good look at what belonged to Cass. However, he was far too exhausted, and instead chuckled softly and shook his head. Before he could make a comment about being tall enough to be a stormtrooper, the two women continued on and he decided to remain silent.

When she again redirected her attention on him, Owen's violet gaze snapped up to meet the other woman's. Her words sent a surge of pride through him, and he couldn't help the slight blush that crept into his cheeks. His pride was not at himself, but at the way Damita spoke of Cassandra. In a way, Owen supposed he could take a smidge of credit for helping point Cass in the right direction.

She had become a strong woman on her own, but he knew she credited him a lot more than he felt was the case. When they mentioned a name Owen had never heard before, however, his ears pricked. Instantly he looked around, using a covert Matter rote to see through the walls of the structure. It didn't take long for Owen to spot him, a figure curled up in the fetal position on the bed in the master room.

Because of the darkness, Owen couldn't make out any distinct features, only that they were obviously entrenched in a nightmare of some sort. The muscle spasms and shudders that wracked the body of the bed's occupant brought forth a brief flare of sympathy from the mage. He knew what those nightmares were like.

When he heard his name, Owen dropped his supernatural vision and returned his gaze to Damita with a practiced smile. "I'll take that as a ringing endorsement," he said in reply to Cass. "Thanks for your help, Damita. Sorry we had to meet like this. You uh... might want to check on your friend soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen smirked at Cassandra's assumption that he couldn't have talked his way out of that one, but was glad she was there to be that second witness he needed to keep his secret. He nodded appreciatively, unable to help the groan that issued forth from her nails against his scalp. If she kept that up he was certain to drift off. Thankfully she had to drive them a few more places, and despite knowing she was right Owen didn't feel hungry at all.

"I know I should be, but I just don't have any sort of appetite," he admitted. "I think I need sleep more than anything. Just shifting hurts enough it wakes me up in the middle of the night now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra nodded and pulled out of Damita's drive, heading back toward the pharmacy. "I'll just make something at home then, and I'll be sure to make extra so you can heat some up when you do get hungry." She glanced at him a few times out of the corner of her eye and smiled at him. She knew then that she would have to move her office, and while it would normally take a while to do something like that, a simple spell to help the man she loved would be easy enough to switch the office with the guest bedroom.

"So, I have a guest bedroom," she said softly, swallowing before speaking again. "But it's upstairs. Should I do something about that?" She figured asking him would be better than just assuming, to let him make the choice rather than not giving him one in the matter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen looked over at Cass then, giving her his full attention as he patted her hand gently. "Sweetheart, I'm honored and humbled by the fact you would take care of me at this time of my life. I have already made one selfish request of you, it would be a dishonor to make any more. Do whatever is going to be the most convenient and have the least amount of impact on your life, please."

It truly only mattered to him in that sense. If he had to climb three stories to reach the bedroom in question, Owen knew that her intent was for him to regain strength after his muscles would undoubtedly atrophy a little given the weeks in bed required for his recovery. He offered the woman beside him a small smile, glad to have someone by his side with her heart and soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled over at him and a small blush came over her cheeks. "It's really nothing, if you don't think you could climb the stairs, please be honest with me. Especially if climbing them would put more strain on you..." she trailed off and laughed softly knowing they'd go around and around with each other for the rest of the evening and arrive at a stalemate given how stubborn they both were.

"Okay, but if it gets to be too much, please let me know, and we'll move everything to ground level. Can you promise me that?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen smiled softly at the woman beside him, her intent for his best interests again being proven. He took a deep breath and nodded. The Necromage could barely focus on anything in that moment, but Cassandra's voice continued to ground him in reality.

"If I ever get to a point where I can't climb stairs, I had better be dead," he replied with a mirthless smile. Since she knew about him at that point, he had no problem adding "I'm thinking about casting a rote that will make things easier for you, actually. It would suppress my conscious mind and put me in a state that would be almost completely indistinguishable from death for however long I needed it. I could survive for a week at a time if need be... it wouldn't be the first time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's eyes widened as he said that and she quickly shook her head. "No, no, don't you dare. Easier for me is you conscious. Where we can talk and catch up, and-" she stopped speaking, knowing she was going to get herself worked up, and a worked up witch behind the wheel of a car was never a good sign. She slowed the car at a red light and looked over at him seriously. "Please, just don't do that. I invited you into my home to take care of you, and make certain your mom didn't go overbearing on you. Not to have you in a death like state for a week."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen was a little surprised by the intensity of Cassandra's reaction, but understood her position easily. He nodded thoughtfully as she gave her reasons as to why she preferred he not choose that path. When he could tell it was starting to really get at her, the mage reached out to place a comforting hand on the back of her neck.

When she looked at him, Owen felt like a fish in an aquarium. Truthfully he was just as afraid of what "catching up" might entail as she obviously was. He didn't know how to tell her what was needed, nor how he would cope with whatever it was she needed to tell him. Rather than focus on something that would get his own anxiety going, however, he gently stroked the skin from the base of her skull to her shoulders, hoping to soothe her somewhat.

"Okay... but you're going to have to work and stuff, and I really don't want you coming all the way back here because you think I need something, darlin," he replied as the light changed. "It would keep me from upsetting the healing process by um... well I don't exactly sleep well. It just might help if I cast the spell for however long you would be away, or put a trigger on it where you and only you could bring me out of it. Is that an acceptable alternative?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra gave a little sigh, relaxing into his hand. His touch always had a way of soothing her, and right then was no different. She turned the car through traffic to get to the pharmacy as she considered his words. At least then he would be awake and able to speak and be spoken to when she was around, and he was right. She couldn't be with him around the clock, she had a business to run, and inventory to help Miranda with in two days. She couldn't stay away from the Inn, not when she knew that Miranda sucked at the front desk, and Alysandra needed the time away to fill the orders she and Damita had gotten.

"Okay, if you can put a trigger on it to allow me to pull you out of it, I see the logic in it," she reached out and put her hand on his thigh, giving him a sideways smile. "You're right, baby. I can't be there all the time. And... I do tend to put in long hours when I get in the middle of something."

She wished she could say more, explain that's why she had a little area in her office behind the desk for Melinda to set up her laptop and play games. Or why her house was, for the most part, immaculate, because a majority of the time, it wasn't as lived in as she would have liked. Maybe she put in too much time at work, but then again, Melinda got to see her mom doing what it took to give her the things she had. Cassandra took pride in what she'd accomplished with the Inn, and it showed in how seamlessly everything ran, even when she wasn't always there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The look that formed on Owen's countenance as Cassandra justified his plan was one of increasing concern. It was obvious that she was working too hard, and while she loved her career he could tell she wanted more time for family. If things went as they planned, Owen hoped they would find a way for her to have that time.

Then again, Owen felt like he was fucked up six days a week and twice on Sunday. He wasn't in a position to help anyone in that moment, not even himself. Cassandra's presence was the only thing that kept him from completely coming apart at the seams. He had done his job, rescued his sister, and frankly could have died content that his purpose had been fulfilled were it not for her offering him another. Owen was not so selfish as to deprive someone he loved of what they needed or desired within their heart, but was selfless enough to exist in torment to fulfill it.

"Don't worry, darlin. When I'm in that state I won't need food or water or anything else, really for up to a month. I'll set the trigger to be any skin to skin contact from you and you alone, how does that sound?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled over at him and gave his thigh a gentle squeeze. She truly didn't need particulars on the rote he would cast other than what would take him out of it. It sounded too much like actual death for her liking. Though she did like the trigger, touching him was something she found brought her so much joy she thought her heart would burst. She hadn't realized just how much she had truly missed him until he was back in her arms. "That trigger sounds perfect," she responded as she pulled into the drive through for the pharmacy. Getting his prescription was quick and easy and soon enough they were on their way back to her place. "I can't say that knowing you'll be in that state isn't unnerving though."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen drew in an unsteady breath when Cassandra's hand met his thigh, and his brow furrowed as she somehow hit that same spot she did back in high school. His eyes struggled to stay open as he relaxed into the seat a little with a small smile and kept his gaze on the road ahead. Cass had a way of being guided by something more than her Present Sight with him, and it excited him as much then as now.

"I won't be dead... just not detectable as alive save by a casting more powerful than my own," he assured her. He quickly, however, grew somber. "Cass... you've seen how I sleep. That's... reality. I'd rather... I don't want to dream through this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra nodded to Owen, complete understanding taking over her. If she could avoid the nightmares that plagued her on a nightly basis lately, she would as well. She handed him the prescription bag and focused on the road ahead of her, bringing them to her home. She was grateful that they had stopped to drop his things off before they'd done their running, as she got out of the car, and helped Owen up the porch steps and almost dreaded the walk up the stairs with him.

They managed to help each other out and Cassandra gingerly helped him into the guest bedroom, and helped him to sit on the edge of the bed before instructing him to stay put while she ran down to get the salve she'd gotten from Damita and the chair. The Witch made quick work of her task, returning to Owen's side not more than five minutes later, and gave him a smile as she appeared in the bedroom doorway with the mason jars.

"You want me to help you with this? She makes it like a cream, your body absorbs the healing properties through the skin so, it's gotta go... pretty much everywhere," a small blush came onto her features then and she gave him a sheepish smile. "I think the torso and arms would be good enough for now though, unless... you wanted me to-" she stopped speaking, knowing she was going to start rambling if she didn't just shut her mouth right then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The journey up the staircase was arduous to say the least. Owen felt every last step they took, and each one sent agony through his entire being. Still, he refused to show any sign of it to Cass, but the effort she put into helping him told Owen he didn't have to. She knew, and still spared him his dignity by not verbalizing that she did. By the time they were in the guest bedroom, Owen was sweating like he'd run at a dead sprint for ten minutes and nearly fell to a seat on the bed.

"Thank you," he whispered in appreciation. While she was gone, Owen greedily took the pill. He considered a second, but Cassandra moved too quickly for him to have gotten away with it.

He looked at her as she reappeared a few moments later, and her words suddenly brought his self-consciousness crashing back to the forefront of his mind. Owen didn't want her to see the scars again, nor anyone else for that matter. Truthfully he hurt everywhere, but nowhere more than his legs. The mage's eyes held hers with trepidation, unsure of what she really wanted from him.

"Uh... I'm not... not worried about that part, Cass," he admitted. "I feel like I need it everywhere... but if that makes you uncomfortable I'm sure I could apply it myself..."
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Page 12
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Cassandra quickly shook her head and smiled. "No, it doesn't make me uncomfortable. Not in the slightest. I've seen you... before." A blush worked its way onto her cheeks and she grinned for a moment before looking down at the floor. "I don't mind," she moved closer to him, slowly reaching out to pinch his shirt and pull it away from his chest a little. "Let me? Let me take care of you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen swallowed heavily as Cass started towards him. There was no predatory hunger or lustful desire in her eyes. Despite having known only one night with her, Owen had an unction he could read her well enough to know if that was her intent. She made it clear through her body language and voice at the end of her request that despite having spent ten years apart from her he was proven right.

Still, that did not take the subtle intake of breath at her approach. The mage nodded briefly, carefully reaching to his hip to draw out a combat knife as he let out the breath he'd been holding. He held it out to her with a pained look before letting his jacket slide off of his shoulders and down his arms to pool on the floor at his feet. Seeing the curious look in her eye, Owen smirked.

"You're going to have to cut the shirt off, darlin... I'm not going to be able to pull it over my head, even with your help at this point," he admitted. "That pill's going to take a few to start working, I'm... sure?"

Suddenly he swayed a little, but managed to prop himself up just by leaning on the edge of the bed for a moment as a half-cocked smile formed on his countenance as he seemed to ponder. "Hmm... still hurts like hell, but suddenly I care less..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra was thankful he read her confused expression at him handing her the knife, then she gingerly took it, and pulled the collar away from his neck as he spoke again, a slight giggle forming. "Morphine kicking in, you're gonna be high off your ass." she commented and laughed softly.

Then she set the blade tip down and away from him inside the collar of his shirt, then met his eyes as she tugged on it, slicing it neatly down the middle. She had to look away from him and gather it in her hands to finish cutting it off of him, then helped him out of it before her eyes settled on the object hanging around his neck.

Something about it set her on edge. She didn't like it, whatever it was, and her gut told her it was something evil, something used for an evil heinous act. Cassandra couldn't wrap her head around why she'd thought that or why Owen would hold onto something if it were used for something like that. She tilted her head, and slowly moved her hand to his shoulder, and tapped near the leather that held it around his neck.

"This uh, this is going to have to be taken off," the more she looked at it, the more she was unnerved by it and couldn't explain why. She knew her gut was telling her to throw it as far away from him as possible, and she never ignored her gut feeling. "Owen, baby? What... what is it? I don't like the feeling I get from it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Cassandra had cut away the shirt, Owen let it slide down his arms as well and to the floor. Her comment about the morphine brought a smirk to his lips, and sighed before he noticed what she was looking at. The mage had to keep himself from tensing up at the way her gaze settled upon it. Owen was no fool. The look in her eyes was suspicion, and the way her jaw clenched confirmed her instinctual reaction to it.

A sharp intake of breath accompanied her reaching for it, but he was able to slowly let it out as her touch moved to his shoulder instead. Owen gently took her wrist and hand in both of his, moving them away from his skin. He had no idea whether it would be a good idea to tell her or not, especially in that moment. However, knowing Cassandra wasn't one to let this sort of thing go, he doubted his attempts to deflect would work. The mage wanted to tell her it was nothing, just an artifact and trinket from his journey, but Cass knew he wouldn't keep something unless it had a palpable reasoning.

"This..." he began, carefully letting go of her hand to pull it over his head by the cord. "This is what... what gave me the scars on my back... It looks harmless, doesn't it?" he asked rhetorically, holding it up by the strap for her to see. "When wielded by the Anakim, however... It can take the magic of supernatural beings and twist it, giving them control instead. This one belonged to one named Batiba..."

Owen sighed, putting a hand to his head as it started to swim a little. He grasped the handle in his right hand, every muscle from his forearm to his chest and back instantly cording with the agony that ripped through him just from that act. Aside from that, however, he gave no outward sign that it did anything. The mage met Cassandra's gaze, his violet eyes cold and distant.

"It has power... power to cut, break bones, stop a heart, and cause unspeakable pain without leaving a single mark on the body," he continued unsteadily. "But it's worse... because it warps and controls the mind. It puts you into a place where you'll do anything to make the pain stop, anything..."

He tried to continue, but trying to explain the full implications of the instrument and its use simply brought back too much for him to remain composed. He turned away from her to hide the tears forming in his eyes to roll down his cheeks. Owen disguised it by picking up his duster and shoving the item into one of the deep pockets he had expanded with the Correspondence circle and locked with a portal key. It wasn't that he wouldn't trust Cass not to dispose of it, but she didn't know enough for him to imbue her with such trust yet.

As the tears fell, he couldn't turn back to face her, and instead slowly sat down upon the bed, supporting himself with one hand. His legs shook a little, and the effects of the drug mixed with everything else flooding through him emotionally and mentally in that moment made it impossible for him to remain standing. It took every ounce of self-control for the mage to not completely break down and spill everything about Erana, Batiba, and his years in the temporal prison.

He had held it in for so long. Cass appeared an unbelievably inviting relief, but he just couldn't bring himself to fall off a cliff when she needed him to get healthy first. So he chose to remain silent and composed himself with an unsteady breath after a moment. The mage closed his eyes and tried to form a void in his mind, but it wandered without his consent back to the woman with him.

Despite how much he wanted to tell Cass everything, Owen was terrified that she would hate him. She would hate him for being weak, for not waiting for her, for allowing himself to be broken like an animal. Owen couldn't handle that sort of rejection from her, not after everything else he had been through. Thankfully, he was shaken to the point where forming words just wasn't possible for him. The lump in his throat blocked everything but the sharp, unsteady intakes of breath through his nose, choking off all else as he hid his face from Cass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra swallowed roughly, fighting her own emotional response to the item in his hand. She could see how his muscles reacted just under his skin, contracting and cording in response to it. She hated this person, this Batiba on principle, someone who harmed the love of her life, who broke him and scarred him and made him hate his own flesh.

She was not prepared for the distance in his gaze, or the chill from his words. Cassandra knew then that what she had been put through at the hands of Alec was exactly what this Batiba had done to him. Electricity sparked in her eyes as he looked away from her to put the object away and she swallowed roughly as she choked down her own emotional response as she watched him closely.

The pain he felt both physically and emotionally was a tangible thing in the air and it fueled Cassandra's own grief for what he had been through. She saw the first tears fall, but gave him a moment for his pride, and for her own control before she finally reached out to him. She stepped between his legs and wrapped her arms around him, pulling his head to cradle against her breast, her fingers weaving through his hair as she smoothed it back. She made no action to truly soothe him other than to hold him and run her fingers through his hair, because she knew he needed to let it out, to let the pain from those memories leech away within the tears he shed.

Cassandra didn't shush him, rather held onto him as tightly as she dared. To think that what appeared to be such a simple object could cause the type of pain that would be needed both emotionally and physically to scar him in both methods astounded her. She felt for Owen, understood - or rather thought she did - the pain that he was going through. She knew only she could truly understand being under someone's control, to be afraid of someone, of them harming you. She understood doing anything to make the pain and fear go away, only to have even more of it thrust upon her.

Her own tears fell in empathy for him and yet her breathing only changed a little. This was his time to grieve the memories, and it was her turn to be strong for him, even though she couldn't help her emotional response. Owen, the love she'd longed for for ten long years was hurting and it hurt her to see and feel it. It was because she loved Owen so much that she hurt when he did, it was a natural response for her. Despite that pain at knowing he was hurting, she would do nothing to make him stop the tears. She would be strong for him, because damn it, it's what he needed. It was her turn to repay the strength he had shown her a decade previous.

She was strong enough to carry them both, and she was determined to prove that to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen suddenly felt Cass very close to him, and as he turned back to find her arms wrapping around him and his head being brought to rest against her soft body. Emotion surged upwards from the mage's gut, spreading through his chest and sending heat up his neck and into his cheeks. He swallowed it back down, refusing to let himself let go completely in front of her.

Cass deserved the Owen she'd had before, and he let his weight settle against her as silent tears rolled down his face one after the other. He did not shake from inaudible sobs; he only put his arms around her as she ran her fingers through his hair and soaking in her presence. Owen wanted to let go, but his own stubborn pride kept him from doing so. A shudder moved through him as he felt her emotional response to him.

Being who he was, Owen pulled back after a few minutes and looked up at her. He saw the redness in her cheeks and reached up to brush the wetness there away. The mages shook his head, and took her hands in his.

"Don't cry for me, Cass," he whispered, afraid of his voice shaking. "That was years ago... I got out of there three years ago... it's been a long time."

What he didn't mention is that from the moment he'd escaped, Owen had become a monster. He had found his sister not through careful espionage and investigation, but by becoming like the monsters he sought to stop. Owen had murdered, betrayed, lied, cheated, and stolen to get Rachael back. He had wallowed in the demonic forces swirling about him, then destroyed them once they lost their usefulness, along with whatever covens or cabals they may have associated with.

Owen had killed... even those who were otherwise innocent, just to get at those who were not. He had drawn out the shadows by murdering their families and those who had no affiliation with them except by blood. It had earned him a lot of enemies, but most were simply too afraid of him to make a move. As he looked at Cass then, he couldn't stop the tears that continued to stream down his countenance, and tore his eyes from her after only a moment.

"You don't have to do this..." he whispered again, referring to her attempts to urge the grief from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled down at Owen and shook her head, moving her hands to his face to use her own thumbs to brush his tears away. "I may not have to, but you deserve to let that grief go, baby. Just as you let me cry things out... You've been hurt, Owen."

Her gaze moved to his coat, to the pocket she'd seen him place the object into, and yet it didn't seem to have a bulge where it should have been. She let that go, choosing not to ask and tightened her hold on his hands a little. "I said I would take care of you, baby. I meant it." She leaned forward and rest her forehead against his before she pulled back and pressed a kiss there.

So many words were needed to be spoken, but Cassandra knew that right then was not the time. Her conversation with Rachael flashed through her mind, and she felt a flash of regret for what had happened with Xavier. While she had cared for him, it could never compare to the feelings she held for Owen. It was why it was short lived. Owen deserved to know about it all, but right then was not the time. She would wait, if only to keep the pain at bay for both of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's just a black hole now," Owen replied bitterly. "Nothing to let go anymore. That place... is a part of me... I can still feel it on my skin. I will carry these marks until the end of my days, Cass. No amount of crying is going to change that. Yeah... I've been hurt. I'd rather die than ever be put back into another collar, but none of that matters anymore. You're here... I'm here... and I don't want to spend my time with you remembering that place."

He took a deep, shuddering breath as he let himself lean into her once more, closing his eyes as he felt her guide him back against her chest and resume what she had been doing. Owen shivered in a way that had nothing to do with cold as he felt her fingernails ghosting over his skin, chill bumps forming anywhere not marked by a scar.

"I was a slave, Cass," he whispered. "The original intent was to break me and hold me there in case... in case something happened to Rachael before they could find the Barrow. I... I was a pet... I-"

Flash

Owen looked up at his mistress as they returned to her quarters, again admiring her beautiful hair and the way it contrasted with her white leather. He always preferred it when she wore white, as it meant she had no intention of training him that day. Something he just couldn't shake knowing, however, was that use of the instrument hanging around her neck caused her physical pain.

"Mistress... Would it please you to let Temperance train me tomorrow?"

Batiba's golden braid whipped around as she abruptly turned to him from shutting the door. Anger flashed in her eyes and remained there, twisting into jealous rage. She lunged at him, bringing the weapon around to strike him hard against the ear and send him to the floor in a flash of blinding pain. Owen's entire skull rang like a church bell, and a high-pitched ringing assaulted the ear she struck.

"Why do you want HER!?" Batiba shouted, striking him again. "You prefer her over me? Am I who have taken you as my mate, no longer good enough for you!?"

The
Anakim struck again and again, everywhere and anywhere she could reach. Owen did not scream, protest, or even fight back. He barely even protected himself from the onslaught, so utterly broken at that point that he felt he deserved what she was doing to him. Blood splashed across Batiba's white leather as she beat him relentlessly. Owen had no idea how long it went on for, only that he was instinctively curled into a fetal ball by the time she finally ran out of stamina and collapsed to her knees beside him.

Batiba grabbed his hair and yanked painfully to force Owen's gaze into hers. "Why...?" she asked breathlessly again.

"B-Because, Mistress... I know that using it hurts you... I don't want you to feel any more pain because of me," he whispered unable to even wipe the blood from his lips for lack of strength.

Something came over Batiba in that moment that Owen would never forget. It was one of the only times he could remember seeing sadness and regret in the woman's eyes. She loosened the painful grip she had on his hair and gently brought his head to rest against her breast, stroking his neck almost lovingly as she did so.

"You... are a rare person, Owen Harborson," she whispered, almost on the verge of tears.


When Owen came back to the real world, it was with a sharp intake of breath as he nearly jumped out of his own skin. He felt his head resting in a similar fashion as it had been moments before, and didn't quite remember where he was. One hand immediately went to feel for the collar around his neck, but stopped halfway when he heard Cassandra's voice and felt her touch. Owen shook uncontrollably for a moment, burying his face into her blouse as his entire body seized up in an attempt to hold back the emotions hammering against the dam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'd rather die than ever be put back into another collar," Owen's words rang loud in Cassandra's mind. He'd been collared. His words only solidified it further in her mind that he had been far more broken than she was, and her heart ached for his torment. He was wise to not want to weep for what had happened to him to not remember a painful past when they had a bright future they could look forward to. If only she could find the words, if only it were the right time to say them.

But as Owen was sucked away from her mentally, she felt it. She felt the tenderness at first, and then the pain and fear it caused him. The emotions and the feeling of pain ripping through him ripped through her as well, and she pulled him to her body tighter, curling herself around him protectively. She knew in that moment that he was reliving something with the instrument, and more tears fell for him and what he had been through, if what she felt from him was even a fraction of what he endured, it killed her to think that he'd been subject to it.

"You don't have to say it, baby. I... I understand. Please, remember you're here with me, know that I'm here," Cassandra choked on a sob as she felt him shaking against her and she hugged him to her with one arm as she stroked his hair. "Let go..." she whispered against his hair before she kissed him again. "I'm here, let me be here for you. You're safe here, Owen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's eyes were squeezed tightly shut against Cassandra's words, every fiber of his being fighting back against what she encouraged from him. The mage tried to breathe, but his lungs felt like the were full and he could draw no more. His chest burned as much as it felt like it was being torn open.

He remembered the way Batiba had lashed his body. He remembered her hauling him to his knees when he no longer had the strength to stand and her slamming the tip of it into his ear again and again as she let out her fury on him. Owen had known in that moment that he was going to die. Then she stopped, and had asked for a truth she was not prepared for.

It was that moment, Owen realized, that Batiba had truly fallen in love with him. As sick and warped as that love had been, it had been there. As screwed up as he was, Owen couldn't be sure if he had truly loved her or if had been a product of the tool she'd used to break him. It was in those moments after, those few times she held him like she truly cared and showed affection seemingly impossible for her kind that Owen wondered the most.

Again he was brought back to reality by Cass. She was there, holding him despite the twisted monster he had become. Batiba was dead. She was dead by Owen's own hand, and despite how horrible, abusive, painful, and traumatic his time with her had been... She had ripped a piece of his heart away and taken it to her grave.

Owen cried. In a torrent unlike anything up to that point in his life he wept. There had been no time to grieve for Erana. Batiba had seen to that. For what Owen cried, he truly didn't know. All he could feel was grief and torment pulling him below the surface like a strong undertow. He sucked in desperate gasps when he could no longer breathe, but otherwise made no sound aside from the occasional whimper as he shook with silent sobs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra was not prepared for the power Owen's tears would have over her. Her heart broke a thousand times over hearing his sobs. And yet, she stood there, holding him, being his rock to ground himself upon, his strength to tether himself to in the storm that was his grief. She didn't understand the reason behind the tears, though she thought she did, but yet, she would never ask for an explanation. Owen's grief was a tangible, real thing, and he needed to shed it. She worried it would cause another outburst like she had seen before. What if Rachael hadn't been able to move? What if she didn't open the door?

What if she was attending his funeral instead of holding him tightly as he wept for a past she could not truly comprehend? But she wasn't, and she focused on the truth of the present. She could not be his strength if she broke as well. Though she did cry with him, she couldn't help her tears for him. She moved her hands over his back and shoulders, ran her fingers through his hair, everything she could employ to help ground him and sooth whatever grief he felt to rend such tears from him.

Every now and then she would whisper that it would all be okay. She told him he was safe with her. She told him she loved him. It was all she could do as he cried against her, and it didn't matter that his tears soaked the front of her shirt. It didn't matter that they'd both had a long day and both were spent, Owen needed her because she had asked a question that brought about painful memories. She couldn't quiet him, and wouldn't. She would remain his strength in the chaos of his grief, as long as he needed her to be, it was a role she was more than willing to take on for him, just as he had for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every time Owen tried to make himself stop, his grief only overflowed more. Cassandra's touch against the scars on his back and shoulders brought him some comfort, if only that she wasn't revolted by the sight and feel of them. He hated himself in that moment. She should not have been the one to have to deal with this. It shouldn't have been her responsibility to put him back together when she would never have broken him to begin with.

Owen had been perfect in her eyes, and he knew it. How she still loved him with all of the cracks he showed and the pieces of himself still littering the floor was something he couldn't comprehend. He held her tightly, letting his fingertips dig into her lower back as he hid his face in her garment. Her whispers were not lost on him, and only served to make him cry harder.

Finally, after what felt like an absolute eternity Owen's breathing slowed. He simply didn't have the strength for anything more beyond that. Everything inside and out hurt and the painkillers were quickly making him numb to everything. The way the pills bent his mind sideways like a silver spoon made him uncomfortable, and caused the entire world to spin. Owen's eyes remained shut against the onslaught as the last of his tears dripped from his jawline onto the floor.

He was barely on the edge of consciousness, having nearly cried himself to sleep. The mage's breathing was deep, shaky, and uneven, but slowly settled the more he lost the fight against sleep. Owen's rest would be fitful, he knew, if he didn't cast the spell he'd spoken of earlier. Unfortunately for him, there simply was not enough time to do so before he would completely pass out in his lover's arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The witch could tell when Owen had finally begun to settle, and as he rest more heavily against her, she held him tighter, urging him to the mattress and the pillow. She knew that he couldn't cast the spell he said he wanted to, and she instantly felt horrible for bringing those painful memories up for him. Cassandra settled it in her mind that she wouldn't leave him alone, and once she got him settled she moved to the open side of the queen sized bed and settled beside him with Damita's salve. She spun the container open, gathered some of it in her hand and warmed it before she gingerly began working it into his back and over his arms where she could reach.

Over his upper arms and shoulders she gently massaged it into his skin, then over his shoulder blades and between. She hope as she worked on him that it would work as Damita had intended it to and would speed up his healing. She hated knowing he was in pain, unable to do much but sit idly by and allow his body to heal itself. At least with the salve she could feel as if she were contributing to the healing process.

Cassandra moved her hands over his lower back and sides then after warming more of the salve between her hands. she knew by the time she was finished moving her hands over Owen's back that he would be asleep or very close to it. She eyed his pants a moment, thinking he may not be comfortable in them, but decided to leave them for the time being as she pulled the comforter up and wrapped it around him from the opposite side of the bed. She then moved to the door, glancing back at him a moment. "I'll be right back." she said softly, just in case he was still half awake then made a beeline to her bedroom. She changed into a pair of pajama pants and an old T-shirt then headed back for the guest room.

She pulled the sheet and middle blanket back and settled under them, scooting close to Owen's side to wrap her arm around his waist. It was easy to find a comfortable spot against him and it wasn't long before she was drifting off to sleep as well. She didn't know if dreams would plague either of them that night, but it wouldn't matter, they were together, and that was what mattered in that moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At Cassandra's urging Owen let himself be guided down onto the bed, and as he came to rest on his stomach he brought his arms up to curl beneath the pillow. The loss of contact with her was heart wrenching, especially as distraught as he was, yet Cass was not one to let him down, and resumed her touch on him in a most pleasant way. Owen could not contain the deep groan that escaped him as Cass began to work the salve into his back and shoulders, but it was soft and sleepy.

He completely melted then, unable to keep his eyes open as he sank into the mattress. Owen's lips parted as her hands moved between his shoulder blades, knowing how tense he probably felt to her. As much as he longed for a proper deep tissue massage he realized that would likely exacerbate his condition and be more painful than relieving. As such he found even greater comfort in the gentleness of Cassandra's touch and the care she took in making him feel good without causing him greater harm.

The longer Cass worked the salve into his back, arms, and sides, the more dead to the world Owen became. By the time she was finished, the mage was on the razor edge of sleep. Though he woke a little when she left to change clothes, the moment Cassandra's weight settled beside him on the bed he again let his eyes drift shut.

Sleeping with his high school love curled against him after all this time was a dream come true, and something he couldn't have envisioned. He did not dream that night, completely exhausted by the events of the day and under the influence of the powerful drugs given to him for the pain. By the time his eyes opened the next morning, however, all of that had worn off and Owen found himself in a world of hurt.

He tried to move, and immediately felt the full effects of his skeletal microfractures without any pain medication to interfere with it. Owen sucked in a gasp and sqeuezed his eyes shut against the pain, wishing he'd kept the breaker within reach. From somewhere in the domicile he could smell a country breakfast being cooked, and knew Cass would likely be the culprit. He tried to roll over, but that only made him bite down so hard on a scream that he drew blood from his lip. Owen resolved himself to waiting for his lover, and did his best to not move and focus on making the void in his mind to at least cast his ritual spells of protection, perception, and disguise. By the time Cass arrived with the food, he was sweating from the effort of not audibly expressing his state.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra had slept just as dreamlessly as Owen did that night and by the time day broke over the horizon, she was roused by the lightening sky and smiled as she looked over at Owen sleeping soundly beside her. So many good emotions ran through her at seeing him in the bed beside her, it took her a good half hour to get out of bed to make breakfast. She knew he would be hungry, because she certainly was. She hadn't eaten the night before.

A little over a half hour later, she brought a tray with two plates filled with food into the bedroom, then stopped in her tracks as she saw Owen awake and in very obvious pain. She set the tray down on the dresser and grabbed a pill from the prescription bottle and handed it to him with a glass of the orange juice she'd poured. "Here, baby. I'd hoped to be back up before you woke up."

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Page 13
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Owen forced himself to move as she approached. It made everything within him scream to do it, but he carefully rolled over onto his back so that she could help him sit up. He gratefully accepted her offering, but remained utterly silent as he swallowed the expression of pain that threatened to issue forth. The pill vanished quickly, and Owen almost seemed to find a little too much relief in taking it.

The orange juice was next after not having anything to drink since the ride home with Njord the day before. He looked at her apologetically as he noticed the food on the table, and though he felt nauseated from the pain his stomach growled. When he finally managed to embrace the situation as he would with the breaker, Owen spoke.

"Good morning, darlin," he whispered as he met her gaze for the first time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra wore a compassionate expression as she helped him sit up and then took the orange juice from him. "Morning. I guess I don't have to as how you're feeling," she said softly, perching on the edge of the bed near his legs. "I did put some of Damita's salve on you after you fell asleep, but it doesn't seem like it did much good overnight."

She glanced back at the tray she'd brought up and then back to him, giving him a small smile. "Think you can try to eat? The bottle says to take with food," she said, referencing the pill's warning labels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen gave her another apologetic look as she mentioned how he was feeling, feeling guilty that he hadn't made more progress despite it having been one day. The mage moved his gaze over to the tray of food, and despite his nauseating level of pain felt his stomach growl again. In response to her question, he gave her a nod.

"Yes, thank you. May I have another glass of orange juice please?"

As soon as she was gone, Owen wolfed down breakfast like he hadn't eaten in weeks, and by the time she was back his plate was completely cleared. He accepted the drink from her and drained it as well before placing the glass on the tray. Owen let himself settle back against the pillows with a grimace as the pill began to take the edge off.

"Thanks, darlin," he said. His body language changed then as he assumed a posture that was more self protective. "That was great. I... I suppose you want to hear more about uh... last night..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra stopped in the doorway as she returned with the juice for him, and laughed softly seeing the meal completely devoured. She should have known with how little she knew he'd eaten in the last day that he'd be hungry, but she hadn't expected just how quickly he could put away all the food she'd made for him.

She smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed, and witnessed the posture change before he spoke. She couldn't help looking toward his coat where the object of the topic he'd wept over was hidden. She took in a deep breath and shook her head slightly. "Not if you don't want to talk about it. I know last night was difficult for you, and I'm sorry. Maybe it was too soon for me to ask about it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Last night... I was just too raw from everything else that had happened," Owen explained, trying to justify his tears with something concrete. "But... you've seen what it did to me, and you deserve to know about it."

Owen sighed and reached out towards the jacket. When she handed it to him, he quickly delved into the pocket in question until he was nearly up to his shoulder before withdrawing his arm with the item in hand. The mage held it up for her to see, but not close enough that she could touch it. Sweet, incomprehensible agony overrode the pain of his physical condition, allowing him to focus as he gripped the handle with white knuckles.

"What I didn't know about Batiba at first... was that she had been human once. The Faustians took her, changed her, broke her... and they did it all with this. The same one she used on me, she had to use on her family first... and once it's used on you... you always feel the pain of it when it touches you. So when she would hurt me, she was hurting herself the entire time. Even right now... holding it like this causes more pain that most people can endure..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra listened closely to him, watching as he reached into the pocket of the jacket with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. It quickly disappeared as he brought the object out and she stared at it. Knowing that it had done those horrible things to Owen made her want to rip it from his hands and find a way to destroy it. She couldn't fathom why he would keep it. The question only solidified once he spoke again, and she realized that by him touching it he was feeling pain.

She started to reach out for it to knock it out of his hand, but tears welled up in her eyes instead and she shook her head. "Put it down... please... please Owen, put it down. Why? Why hold on to something that causes you so much pain? True physical pain? And to have that coursing through you when you're supposed to be resting, baby, please. It could make the fractures worse..."

The witch swallowed roughly, trying to calm the emotion that swelled within her. She was dangerously close to sobbing openly for him, for what he had been through and what the girl she had hated the night before had been through. She couldn't take knowing that holding onto the object was causing him pain, and pulled her hand back for fear of making it worse should she touch it as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon hearing Cassandra's nearly sobbed request, Owen quickly felt his heart start to race within his chest. He had known that the story would upset her, but he hadn't counted on her almost reaching out to knock it away. The mage was thankful it was little more than a flinch from her, however, and gave her an apologetic smile before putting it back into the coat pocket.

"Okay, okay, shhh... It's okay, darlin," he said as he did so. "It's not going to make anything worse... and I keep it because... because in some sick, warped way I loved her. She never got all of me, not the parts of me that you have now. I had to... compartmentalize myself to survive. Partitioning my mind and locking it away in a place where she couldn't reach while I let her have everything else is the only way I survived, Cass. But it's also a useful tool. I... can inflict pain on others if I need to. It came in very, very handy when questioning people about my sister after I escaped..."

He looked at her as he set the jacket on the floor beside the bed, his gaze imploring her to do whatever she felt in that moment. Owen didn't want her to be afraid of him, even as hurt as he was. Cassandra had a way of making him feel like it could all be okay even in his darkest moments, even when he felt like he was too broken for all the pieces to be found. He trusted her to be able to handle it, and hoped against hope he was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra nearly gagged hearing that Owen had loved Batiba. She understood it, they had been apart for so long, and she had manipulated him, broken him. Her stomach didn't twist for the thought of him loving another, that she could understand, but rather it was the why. She had broken him, twisted him, manipulated him to do what she wanted. She shook her head and took in deep breaths in an attempt to calm her churning stomach.

"But it harms you. It hurts you. I..." she trailed off, centering her thoughts before she spoke again, trying to take in the overwhelming story behind the object. Fitting all the pieces together gave her a headache, and she wished she could get the story from start to finish, but knew that sometimes remembering things came in bits and pieces of information at a time.

"I understand using it to find Rachael... but now that she's home, why? What use is it for you now to wear around your neck, doesn't it hurt you to have it touching you?" The witch desperately wanted to understand, and while she didn't necessarily like the fact that he carried it, she scooted closer to him and took the hand that had been holding the object between her smaller ones and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

"I just... I don't like the thought of anything that causes you pain, baby." she swallowed roughly, trying to center herself once more. it was her turn to be strong for him, and this was not being strong. "I want to understand it, that's all."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was quickly becoming clear that the more Owen spoke, the more distraught Cassandra became. He wasn't making the situation any better or easier for her. In fact it was quite the opposite. Owen's stress quickly began to compound upon him the more distressed she got, and though her words were not surprising they did not help the way his insides twisted. When she took his hand, however, Owen was forced out of the place his mind had begun retreating to, bringing him to a screeching halt in front of the woman before him.

As she questioned him about it, the shields started to go up. Walls formed even as he tried to destroy them, and his mind erected a barrier she would be unable to penetrate even through physical touch. He was thankful for the loving way in which she stroked his hand, finding it oddly able to soothe away the lingering pain of the instrument. Still, her questions were on the verge of sending him into a full anxiety shut-down.

"I-I... uh... It-It's a tool, Cass," he finally managed to spit out. "I'm the only mage I know of to actually aquire one of these. It... It's the only thing besides the scars I have to remind me of what I went through... what I had to survive and endure to find my sister... to come home to you. I'm so used to it now, that I almost welcome the way it feels... it's familiar... and because it can trap the magic of other beings and turn it against them, it's worth having if only for that reason."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Owen started speaking, Cassandra's wariness of the object melted away. She understood then why he carried it with him, and it's usefulness. She nodded and brought his hand to her lips to press a kiss to the back of his fingers. "Okay," she said softly, meeting his violet gaze. "Okay... I understand. Could... could we maybe find something that doesn't harm you to be something familiar to help?" she asked softly, glancing toward his jacket warily. "I won't say another word about it, but it hurts my heart to know you cling to pain as something familiar."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen breathed a small sigh of relief as Cassandra calmed down, and in turn he calmed as well. He was glad Cass had ahold of his hand, because it would have been shaking were it free. The kiss brought a warmth to his cheeks, and he took a deep breath before answering the first thing that came to mind.

"You... feel familiar. I can try to... Pain is all I've known for the past... how long has it even been now?" he trailed off, his eyes starting to slide away from Cass and towards some distant place. It would only be moments before he was again pulled away from reality as he tried to remember something that would mark the years that had marked him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra felt a pang hit her heart with Owen's words, a deep sadness taking hold of her at the complete realization and understanding of his words. She vowed right then in that moment to make certain he was as pain free as he possibly could be. Damn the consequences, she would deal with them later. She would make certain she woke him from his spell with the morphine and a meal, but give him the time within the spell to allow his body to heal itself. If it meant not having him with her every day, she would do what was necessary to make certain he was as pain free as possible.

She kissed the back of his fingers again, and moved closer to him, letting go of his hand with one of hers to press against his cheek and bring him back to her. Cassandra could see his gaze going distant, and wanted to make certain he stayed right there with her. "Look here at me, baby. It's been too long, but you're not there anymore, you're here. You're right here with me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's touch upon Owen's face to bring him back to her had the desired effect. His gaze refocused and found hers. He looked longingly into her emerald irises as her words washed over him. He felt another lump form in his throat, but quickly swallowed this one back down. As much as his mind wanted to tear itself away from reality in that moment, Cassandra found multiple ways to anchor him to the ground so he could not. He appreciated that.

"I uh... It's been a long time I guess," he finished, averting his gaze downward. He quickly tried to find something that would change the subject. "I uh... trust you to take my pants off with the intent of applying that stuff to my legs as well."

Weak sauce, dude.

She sees right through that crap.

You're a fucked up monster. And you were already an idiot to start with. Boy, must suck to be you.


~ One Week Later ~

Things had devolved into uncomfortable small talk after that, aside from the affection shown between the two. When it came time for her to leave for work that Monday, Owen ran a quick test of his spell with her and the designated trigger. Once she was satisfied that he could be brought out of it, he again invoked it and was by all mortal measures dead. The week went by for him without incident.

[Background Music - Don't Starve Music Box]

Friday night passed into the darkest hours of early Saturday morning, and upon the stroke of three a strange music began to waft throughout the house. Sharps and flats intermingled painfully with a background that sounded like the roar of an incoming wave, creating an eerie, prickling melody that seemed almost ad-libbed. The moonlight shining through the open window splashed across the bed's occupant and lit up the room faintly.

It also cast dark shadows against the far wall, and the ones opposite the foot of his bed seemed to curl into three indistinct silhouettes all with glowing eyes of varying colors. The sound of heavy breathing joined the chorus as the roaring got louder, and a long, spindly arm emerged from the congregation of darkness. At the end of it was a crooked hand with fingers that ended in sharp angular points. The arm slowly slid along the wall, taking the right angles in the corners of the room as it stretched towards Owen. As it took the second corner, the hand twitched in anticipation before hovering above his head. Though nothing physical in nature was visible at his side or anywhere else in the room, the shadowy arm on the wall raised up and opened its talons with the obvious intent to strike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Cassandra was satisfied with the spell Owen had cast upon himself, she poured herself into her work at the Inn. The week passed by easily enough with her checking on him each night, only to find absolutely nothing had changed. it didn't sit well with her, but at least he found no pain in that state, and felt no need to hold onto the familiar object that brought her so much discomfort.

Melinda had been curious about their new house guest, but quickly learned who he was, and how much he meant to her mother. She would curiously stand in the doorway to the guest room across from her mother's bedroom and watch as she checked on him. It wasn't unlike her mother to care for someone she considered a friend, and it was obvious to the girl that Cassandra cared more for the man, Owen, than simply just a friend.

As Friday approached, Cassandra made absolutely certain things would run smoothly at the Inn before she took the weekend off. She got Melinda settled into bed for the night, and sat sentry by Owen's bedside until midnight when she finally retired to her own bed. Though it was a fitful sleep filled with shadows, much like the ones she had seen within the first vision she'd had from touching Owen. They were chasing she and Owen through the woods as they protected Melinda from them. Their arms reaching out threatening her daughter before she shot up in bed awake only to hear the sound of a music box coming from the room across from hers.

Neither she nor her daughter owned one, and she hadn't triggered Owen awake. Electricity sparked in her eyes as she knew something dared enter her home without permission. She flung the blankets back and with her power sparking between her fingertips she opened her door to find the music louder. She glanced down the hall to see her daughter's room still closed, and crossed to open the door to Owen's room.

The witch stilled as the horrors from her dream hovered on the walls, reaching out for Owen. She threw a bolt across the room as she raced to the bed, landing on it beside Owen and placed her hand over his heart on his bare chest. She hovered over him, covering him from whatever had gotten into her home, shielding them from their attack.

"GET OUT!" She screamed and looked around to find the spindly arms gone, and very much alone in the room with a rousing Owen, who surely must have thought she had lost her mind entirely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's eyes snapped open the instant Cassandra's hand made contact with his skin. He sucked in a sharp gasp as she shouted at someone to get out, and immediately sat up to discover nothing there. He hadn't seen the shadows, and the music had vanished along with them, but Cass was clearly distressed. Almost immediately after his sudden movement, the consequences of it hit him like a kick in the teeth.

He grimaced and slowly let himself fall back against the pillows, his gaze searching Cassandra for answers. "Wha-What's going on?"
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Daniel
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Cassandra moved to kneel beside him on the bed, turning so erratically back and forth to look around them that her disheveled hair from her sleep flew over her shoulders. Electricity sparked between her fingers still, and she was ready to throw another bolt if she had to, but there seemed to be no sign of the shadows. "You didn't..." she trailed off as she looked down at him, looking over him to make certain he was alright. "Shadows..." a shiver moved through her that had nothing to do with the slight chill in the air in the room. "They moved, there was... there was something reaching out for you, I saw it... I threw my power at it, but it... I don't know what happened, I don't know where it went..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen tilted his head at her as she spoke, and a look of realization came over his face. It was not one of joy. He cut his gaze from hers and muttered a curse under his breath before frantically going for his coat. The mage dug through the same pocket, but this time he withdrew a small pouch with a drawstring.

His shoulder and back screamed in complaint of the movement without the aid of the pills, and Owen was sweating and breathing heavily by the time he pulled the strings apart. The pouch came open, and out of it came a small, brilliant blue stone the size of a human thumb. Encased within it was an indistinct shape of pure, brilliant white that made the stone glow from within and emit an icy blue light. He held the stone over the bed and let it go. It hovered over the pair and between them, and radiated supernatural energy.

"It's a Watcher," Owen explained. "It... was a... gift... Should keep them away. Are you... okay?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra watched as his expression changed and he dug through his coat pocket. She arched an eyebrow as he pulled out the stone and the light encased them. She glanced around the room, half expecting something to screech and die. "Them..." she said softly and looked to him as he asked his question. "I'm freaked the hell out. You... you know what they are? I saw them, something like it in a vision. At the Inn before you left, I saw you with shadows behind you, and just tonight, I..." she trailed off as she thought of her nightmare. "I had a dream shadows were chasing us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There's a lot of shadows in my past, darlin," Owen explained needlessly. "I'm not surprised some of them followed me home, even literally."

That was all he could get out, and he looked up at her imploringly for a moment. "Painkillers please?" he asked, trying his damndest to keep the strain from his voice. When she complied, he quickly downed it without bothering to send her for something to drink. He was forced to take several moments before getting his breathing under control enough to look at her again.

"Them... yes I know them. They are assassins and espionage agents of powerful demonic forces," he explained. "There are 'wild' ones, but they usually stay in the cities. The fact someone sent more than one for me... I'm almost flattered... Did they have colored irises?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra quickly moved to the dresser to get the bottle of morphine dropping one into her hand before moving back and handing it to him. She perched on the edge of the bed, shaking the sleep from her mind as he spoke.

Did they? The witch had to think hard to recall even that much, then she nodded. "Different colors, yes. You're flattered?" she asked incredulously. "Demons sent assassins after you?"

Cassandra knew he'd had to of made enemies in his travels and his years gone, but she hadn't expected them to find him in Duskmarsh, let alone in her home so close to... She took in a deep breath stopping her line of thinking and swallowed roughly. "What do we do? How do we kill them?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen grunted and let himself go limp against the pillows with a sigh. "We don't... not right this minute anyways. If they had colored irises... that means they can take physical form if they choose. You're lucky you woke me. The Watcher will keep them at bay for now, but only for a few days at most. We need to-"

Suddenly, a roiling sound like magma within a volcano preparing to erupt emerged from Owen's stomach, which just realized how long it had gone without food. That prompted the mage to look up at Cassandra apologetically.

"You got a granola bar or anything on you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra arched an eyebrow at the sound rumbling in Owen's stomach and smirked as he spoke. "Not on me, I'm sorry I woke you a few hours too soon. I'll... I'll go get you something." She stopped in the doorway and turned back to him, giving him a smile. "I threw electricity at one of them. I don't know if it helped or not." she waited only a moment before she started downstairs and dug out a box of granola bars, grabbed two of them, and turned to the fridge.

She pulled out a tupperware container that had left over lasagna from Makayla and tossed it into the microwave for him. It may not be the best breakfast, but she knew Makayla's cooking. She stabbed a fork into it when it was piping hot and jogged back up the stairs with it.

Once back into the room she lifted each item in turn. "Your choice. Granola, or Makayla's cooking?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen was about to stop her when she turned back at the door and mentioned hurling electricity at the shadows, and shook his head. "In that form, they're almost untouchable, but it probably... shocked them enough to scare them away," he said with an intentional pun. Then she was gone, and he was again left alone in the dark.

His gaze drifted to the moon outside the window, full and bright as it hung in the night sky. It was beautiful, but also filled him with sadness when he thought about the nights he had spent beneath it. Some had been with Cass, but many had been with Erana as well. He would have to tell her at some point while he was there, and hope she had it in her heart to forgive him.

The mage had just started to drift into memory when Cassandra returned with the food. "I'll take both," he replied. He devoured the lasagna first, not even caring that parts of it burned his mouth while some were still just over room temperature. It was food, and Makayla's cooking was good despite the limitations of the microwave in re-heating it. Once that was done, he set it aside and unwrapped the first granola bar as he leaned back again and took a bite.

"Thank you," he said between bites.

He took a drink from the glass of milk she had brought. He looked at her then, remembering the expression on her face before she'd left the room. The realization and recognition that had covered her countenance reminded him that there was someone else in the house with them currently. The pit of Owen's stomach churned as he thought about the shadow people being only feet away from such an innocent being.

"I-I... I shouldn't have asked to come here," he said finally as the pill began kicking in. "I didn't... didn't think-" His heart started to beat more rapidly within his chest. "I wouldn't- Ugh... I'm sorry for putting your daughter in danger. I never would've thought they'd find me here. I should've been... I should've been at home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled as he devoured the food, unable to help it forming on her lips as she watched just how quickly he was able to finish the breakfast she had brought him the previous week. She nodded in response to his tanks, and held onto the second granola bar waiting to see if he wanted it or if she would have a late snack. She wasn't expecting his next words and immediately began shaking her head at him.

"Owen, no. I invited you here. Don't you worry about Melinda, I can protect the two of you just fine, and if I can't, there's always bringing in another coven member. You will stay here, don't you dare think about leaving."

Rachael's words echoed in her head again, she had to tell him. But would he then insist on being awake? She looked down at the granola bar in her hands, fidgeting with the wrapper as she tried to find the right words to speak to even think about beginning the conversation she knew they needed to have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen set down the half eaten granola bar and looked at her, his eyes searching her as she spoke. When she broke hers away to look down at her fidgeting hands, Owen knew something was on her mind and on the tip of her tongue. He reached out to place his hand on her wrist, giving it a gentle, hopefully reassuring squeeze.

"I won't go," he said. "If you tell me you can protect us both, I believe it, darlin. But that's not all, is it...? Please... don't keep it from me?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra looked up at him and shook her head, confirming the fact that there was something else that she wasn't saying. "I'm not trying to keep it from you, but finding the right words is... it's difficult." she trailed off, looking down at the wrapper she'd nearly torn open with her fidgeting and put it down on the bed to get it out of her hands.

She took in a deep breath and looked up into his eyes, giving him a small smile. "You remember that last night we spent together?" she knew he would, and gave him a smile as she recalled that night with him as well, how she felt in his arms, how he made her feel, safe, loved, cherished. After everything she had been through in her short life at that point, Owen was everything to her.

"Baby... when you disappeared... you didn't..." She gave a nervous giggle and fiddled with the ring on her finger, the birthday gift from her father that had taken the place of the string he'd tied around her finger. "You didn't just leave me with a piece of string. There was another part of you that you left behind as well." Her eyes moved in the direction of Melinda's room and then smiled softly at him. "I've had a piece of you for ten years, giving me hope, bringing me joy, laughter..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cass was clearly distressed by whatever it was that she had to tell him, and as a result Owen's anxiety spiked and he braced himself for the worst. Before she'd even opened her mouth, a thousand horrible things presented themselves as possible scenarios in his mind. What she said, however, was something he hadn't prepared for.

His gaze followed hers toward her daughter's room, and instant understanding came upon him. The more she spoke, the more that dawning was confirmed until his entire existence was turned upside down. Owen would have gripped the sheets for fear of falling into the ceiling had he the strength, and he tried to comprehend the scope of what she was telling him. His anxiety quickly began to escalate to full blown panic, and he broke out into a sweat.

I have a daughter.

I have a little girl.

I'm a daddy...

You left her, abandoned her. She probably hates the mere thought of you.

No... Cass would've explained. She's a good mother.

Explain why you didn't even bother to check to see if she was okay? Not a single scrying spell?

I-I... I couldn't risk-

You abandoned her mother too. And you know it. You abandoned her when you fell in love with Erana, when you chose to try and forget her.

But I never could...


On the exterior, Owen simply stared into the nothingness between his and his daughter's room. Against his will and outside of his conscious thought tears began to stream down his cheeks. His mind tore into him, ripping open every wound it could find and punching out new ones when it ran out. Owen's stomach clenched in a way that had nothing to do with what he'd eaten, and his mouth went dry. A shudder ran through the mage as he opened his mouth to say something, when all that came to mind were apologies Cass wouldn't want to hear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra reached out and took hold of his hand, scooting closer to him as she saw him going distant on her. She let him this time, a slight surface gleaming letting her know he was just processing what she'd said. Silent tears formed in her eyes as his own welled up and fell. She shook her head and brought his hand to her chest, pressing it above her heart to let him feel it. It had begun to race with anxiety over what he would say, how he would react. She was prepared for anything except for his silence.

Her own mind presented her with horrible reactions, him calling her a liar, denying it, accusing her of sleeping with someone else... all of which she would never blame him for, because he didn't get to see it. He wasn't there, and through all the anger that she could hold onto for him being gone, it wasn't there. Grief was there for all he had lost, all he had missed out on, but for him, she had countless videos that had been burned onto DVDs of Melinda's years growing up.

"She knows," she whispered. "Melinda... she knows. She's a pretty strong Empath. Like your Aunt Phoebe. I named her to honor your family's lineage."

Every word she spoke sounded completely idiotic to her as they spilled from her lips. Nothing sounded right to her, and she hated that she couldn't seem to speak a single intelligent word. But what could she say? Especially when he just sat there, tears streaming down his cheeks, barely gripping her hand back as she held onto it.

"I should have told you... but... but I didn't know how... I... I don't even know if this was the right way to tell you. But you had to know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen looked back at her when she brought his hand to her chest to feel her heartbeat. Cass was just as scared as he was, but as she spoke his own felt like it would tear through his sternum and hurl itself against the far wall. When she started crying, his own heart broke into even smaller pieces, and he couldn't take it. Owen pulled his hand away, reached up and gently wiped her tears away with his thumb.

"I can't... I can't believe I'm a dad," he whispered, a sad but sincerely joyful smile forming on his countenance. It quickly wavered. "Sh-she must... God she must hate me... And I left you here... It was awful just knowing that I'd abandoned you... but her too...?"

Despite wanting to soothe her tears, the weight of Owen's heart was just too much. He put his head into his hands and wept openly. His shoulders shook softly in accompaniment to his silent sobs, and he was heartbroken from the thought of missing out on so much time with his own child. He didn't feel like he had the right to be her dad, not anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra shook her head in response to him, her eyes pleading with him not to think that way. "No... no, Owen, she doesn't..." She started to deny his fear of Melinda hating him, and then he leaned forward and wept. The action alone broke Cassandra's heart and she wrapped her arms around him to hold him. "She doesn't hate you, she admires you. Even as a baby I told her the story of her father. How he had to leave to save her aunt. She sees you as a hero, like I do. You didn't abandon either of us, baby. You did what you had to, and she's so excited to meet you. She's... she's watched me all week tending to you while you slept. I think she even knew that first day... she felt the connection to you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suddenly, arms were wrapped around him as Cass moved to hold him, her words washing over him as she tried to end his despair. Regardless of how Cassandra spun it, he was the very essence of a deadbeat dad. That thought alone killed him, but like always she had a way to bring the sunshine to his rain. Hearing that his daughter thought he was a hero gave him a bittersweet feeling, and the fact that she already knew who he was only made it more uncomfortable.

"She does...? How... Wh-... Do mom and dad know?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra nodded against him. "They know. They spend a lot of time with her. Your mom and dad were a big help to me in the beginning. They... your dad was the first one to hear a belly laugh from her." She didn't know if her words were helping or hurting, and the thought that she couldn't speak any truly intelligent words still fluttered through her mind. It wasn't fair to either of them, but circumstances were what they were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen looked up then, meeting her gaze with bloodshot eyes and red cheeks. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, letting it out in a slow, shuddering sigh. She had done right by their daughter, and had put him at a standard to which he was afraid he could never measure to in the process. He was too broken, too messed up, and too mad to be a parent. Owen was afraid of hurting the girl, more than anything.

"I knew... something inside me knew the moment I laid eyes on her. And when you told me her age... I don't... I don't know how to be a dad," he whispered finally. "I'll never live up to being the man you told her I was. Some hero I turned out to be, huh?" he added with a sniffle, looking away from her and trying to wipe his eyes with his wrists.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled softly and made him look at her again, using her thumbs to wipe the tears away. "No one knows how to be a parent, it just happens. And it doesn't matter if you live up to the man I told her you are. She will still see you as a hero, because you're her dad, and you came back to us. You brought her aunt back. You are a hero to the both of us, Owen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra's touch sent soothing waves of energy to the very core of Owen's being, and he smiled sadly as she spoke. He let her dry his tears, then let his head fall against her shoulder with his face against her neck. Owen said nothing, merely rocking gently back and forth as he tried to sort out the firestorm within his mind and heart. Every so often he would choke up, but another sob never emerged. He knew she would be able to feel the wetness of his tears against her throat, but at that point there was nothing that could stop them.

"I guess that means... if you want it... I don't ever have to leave here again," he whispered against her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra held him as he cried, knowing that he was in spite of the silence as she felt the tears dropping onto her neck. it broke her heart further to know that he was hurting as much as he was over the news she had dropped on him, but could not find fault for it. Once he spoke against a smile spread on her lips, once she couldn't stop. It was exactly what she'd wanted. "If you want to stay, Owen, it's all I've ever wanted."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

his heart ached all the more. Despite having just woken up out of a self induced deathlike state, Owen felt his eyelids getting heavy as he rest against her. With the help of the drugs he managed to slip an arm around her waist to hold her back, and tried desperately to control himself.

"I want to stay," he whispered for fear of his voice breaking again. "I just pray I can do right by her..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled and hugged him a little, careful not to hug him too tightly for fear of hurting him. "You will, you will, because it's in your nature to do the right thing. You have so much knowledge now, you're wiser than you were back then, baby. Everything will be okay, you'll see."

The witch could feel his drowsiness thanks to the morphine and moved to lay down with him, resting on her side against him. "It's still so early though... and I think we're both sleepy, let's get some more rest?" She looked up at him from where she rest her head against his chest. "You can ask me anything about her... anything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen nodded softly as she guided him back down onto the bed, her words reassuring him. He let her head come to rest on his chest, gently stroking her back. The mage's mind was full of questions, but it was clear his lover was tired. The pain would keep him awake for a while longer until the pill truly kicked in, but he was content to lie there and put her to sleep.

"Tell me everything... what's her favorite color? What sort of movies does she like? Is she left handed, or right? Did you raise her to properly like the Atlanta Falcons?"

He stopped himself, knowing all of the things he asked were silly. Truthfully he wanted to know her like he had been there with them all along, and had to swallow a painful lump at the thought he had forever missed it. Owen was not about to get upset in front of Cassandra again, and tensed a little as he forced the emotions back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra giggled softly and moved her fingertips over his chest, listening to his questions. "For one, there's only one option in football to that girl, and your dad had a hand in that. So of course she's raised to love the Falcons. Her favorite color changes week to week. Last week it was purple, this week it's pink. Next week it might be yellow. She's a serious girl, but she laughs at the darkest humor. She somehow got your sense of humor. She's left handed actually for writing, but she throws right handed. "

She could feel him tense, and moved her caresses up to his neck. "I kept a video diary of her from the moment I found out I was pregnant. So you... you wouldn't truly have missed much of her." she said looking up at him, trailing her fingers down the side of his neck to his collarbone and back up again. "I had Caleb help me transfer the VHS to DVD, and they're all dated. Melinda likes watching the one dated for the first ultrasound. It's when I found out she was a girl."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's eyes glistened a little as Cass told him about their daughter, his child. He allowed his eyes to slowly drift shut as she moved her touch up to his neck, and he let his head tilt back with a soft groan as he gave her better access to what she was doing. The mage's chest tightened uncomfortably when she mentioned documenting everything for him, and as senseless as it was it only made his heart break further. He instantly wanted to watch every last one, but wanted Cass as far away as possible when he did.

"I'll watch every one... but not now. I still... I have to process all of this. Thank you for leaving that for me..." His voice faltered a little. "It means everything now. It's all I have. I'm so, so sorry I left you alone through all of that... I wish I had been able to be there for you..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled up at him, tilting her head back to look into his eyes. "I felt like you were here in spirit. Some nights it was hard, and I have to apologize now for some of the ones when she was an infant. I cried... I was so tired," she laughed softly and shook her head. "But it's all okay. We're both okay, and I knew you would come back, it was only a matter of time. You'll..." she trailed off as her own emotion got a hold of her.

She had to take in a deep breath to center herself as her sleep deprived mind tried to make her cry again. She took purposeful breaths against his side, and buried her face against his chest a moment before looking back up at him again. "You'll notice, every single one of them... I talked to the camera like I was talking to you. So it was like I had you here with me every step of the way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen knew the truth. Despite his lover's words, he really hadn't been there with her. If he had been killed or forever locked in Sadrith Mora, it would have been her only speaking to a soulless piece of machinery. He was glad that wasn't the case, and knew it would only make things more emotional for him when he watched the videos.

The mage never stopped stroking her hair, her back, and her neck. It was the only thing that kept him calm despite the emotional turmoil rushing through him. He could feel her tensing against it as well, and felt a pang of guilt at knowing how difficult everything had been for her. Owen would have given anything in that moment to have saved his sister that night so he could have taken half the burden for her... and to simply have been able to hold his daughter in a way he never could now.

That last thought sent him spiraling into a pit of emotion that threatened to drown him. Rather than let Cass know, he simply whispered. "Sleep now, darlin... I know you're tired..."

It was a struggle to keep his voice from breaking, but he did. A few more silent tears traced paths over his cheeks to his jaw as he stared up at the Watcher hanging above them. Owen had gone a long time thinking his life here was over, but it was simply waiting here for him and slowly passing him by the entire time.

Whenever her breathing finally evened out, Owen remained there, still tenderly stroking her hair beneath the light of the Watcher until the sun rose over the horizon. He held it in his gaze as it inched above the treeline, always having loved watching them with his dad as a kid. Owen had no intention of letting Cass stir, and despite the way the pills were kicking in, he did not fall asleep. He was far too worried about meeting his daughter for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra drifted off into a dreamless sleep against Owen, lasting until well after the sun had risen above the tree line. As she woke, she did so to find Owen awake, but it didn't surprise her given he'd been asleep for nearly a week. She cuddled against him a little closer, pressing a kiss to his sternum as she got up. "I"ll go make some real breakfast." She whispered.

The witch slipped from the bedroom and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen, beginning work on a breakfast for the three of them, finishing the eggs, and flipping sausage as Melinda came downstairs. "Good morning."

"Morning, momma. I felt him, momma, does that mean he's awake?"

"He's awake, baby, would you like to meet him?" Cassandra asked, putting the eggs onto plates.

Melinda nodded, apprehension ripping through her. "What if he doesn't like me?"

"Are you kidding?" Cassandra said, turning to look at her daughter. "He will love you. Will you help me carry breakfast up? We'll have a little picnic."

Melinda nodded, then grabbed a plate she would claim as hers while Cassandra carried a tray with two plates and the drinks on it. Though as Cassandra reached the bedroom, Melinda kept going down the hallway to her room. "Melinda..."

"I'll be right there mom, I gotta get something," she called back, and slipped into her room.

Cassandra smiled and moved into the room, looking over Owen in bed. "She wants to meet you, a little eager I think. Are you okay with that?" the witch watched him closely, hoping he would be okay, but preparing herself to hear that it would just be too much right then for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Cass returned with breakfast, Owen was struggling to stay awake. It had been a few hours since taking his medication, and he could feel it beginning to wear off. The mage froze when she mentioned Melinda wanting to meet him, and trepidation quickly built within his chest. He searched the emerald gaze of the girl's mother for several moments, looking for any sign that she was worried.

Seeing none, Owen sighed and nodded. "Yes... I'm okay with that. Just... God I hope she doesn't hate me..."

He wanted more than anything to his daughter to like him, to want to spend time and get to know him. Owen couldn't imagine a worse hell than their child being disconnected from him because of what he had spent the first ten years of her life doing. The mage would gladly have spent the rest of his days in that prison instead of seeing his relationship with either of the two go up in flames, but that was exactly what he was afraid of the most in that moment.
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Page 16
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled brightly at him, her confidence in the meet evident as she turned and waited for Melinda to appear in the doorway. Her breath caught as she saw what was so important as the girl had changed her shirt to one of her Falcons shirts.

Melinda stopped in the doorway, looking first at her mother, giving her a disgruntled glare. "What?" Then timidly, she looked to the form sitting in the bed, then smiled as she met his violet gaze. "H-hi." She wasn't certain if it were her nerves or her father's she was feeling in that moment, and she tried to take a deep breath the way Aunt Phoebe had taught her to focus and center herself so her gift wouldn't get out of control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's heart stopped when he saw the little girl who appeared in the doorway. He swallowed heavily as he took in the form of his daughter, immediately noting just how much she looked like her mother. From her hair to her eyes and even the way the end of her nose was upturned just a little, Melinda was definitely her mother's daughter. She was timid, which was to be expected given this was the first time that they were meeting, and Owen had to wonder if it was her own nerves or his that were affecting the girl.

"Hi, Melinda," he managed to say without his voice breaking. "I'm so glad to finally meet you..."

So many things he wanted to say. Owen wanted to apologize for not being there for her, for missing birthdays and holidays and scraped knees. He wanted to beg forgiveness from her, though the longer she stood there the less he was concerned about needing it. She looked at him with such interest and curiosity that he felt like he was in a fishbowl... and for once he didn't mind in the slightest.

"You have good taste in clothes, I can see," he ventured with his characteristic wink. "Falcons red suits you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melinda hesitated in the doorway a moment as he first spoke, and her heart soared hearing him say her name. She always wondered what her daddy's voice was like, and finally she was hearing it. the girl looked down at her shirt, and that was all it took before the chatterbox arrived in her and she bounded over to the bed with her plate of breakfast. "Grampa Dan got it for me! It was all I really asked for for my birthday this year, and all I ask for really at all. It's our favorite team. Momma and Grampa said it's yours too, so... it's our favorite isn't it? Momma says you brought back Aunt Rachael, I haven't gotten to meet her yet, but I feel her. She's sad... You..." she paused a moment and gave a little smile. "Well, Aunt Phoebe says that it's not nice to pry into people's emotions without permission, but sometimes I just can't help it. Momma says that she had problems with her visions... did you ever have problems with things like that? Momma didn't say if you had powers too, she said she didn't know."

"Melinda..." Cassandra said, giving Owen a grin. "Take a breath when you speak, it helps create..."

"Sentences." Melinda finished, looking back to Owen to roll her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen had nervously started poking at his food when Melinda bounded towards the bed, and the motion nearly caused him to drop his fork. He chuckled at her reaction to his comment about the shirt, and suddenly was hearing her melodic voice as it spun words into one long, run-on sentence. Somehow he was able to keep track of everything she rambled on about, and couldn't help but feel a bit of irritation at his parents for keeping this secret from him.

That mild irritation was overwhelmed by the joy he felt at his daughter being comfortable enough to start gabbing to him like he had been there all along. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes, though thankfully he held them back as she went on. When she finally stopped to breathe, Owen couldn't help but chuckle slightly at Cassandra's mild reprimand.

"Of course the Falcons are our favorite team. Who else is there? They may not have ever won a championship, or get to the playoffs all that often, or resemble a professional football team a lot of the time... but they're our team," he replied with a chuckle. "You're mother was the one who had powers as a kid. I never did, but that's okay. I had a lot of good friends and family that loved me and kept me safe. As for Aunt Rachael, yes... I brought her home. That's why I was gone for so long."

Owen hadn't even touched his food, and still made no move to do so. "And... I'm sorry for that. I didn't even know you existed or who you were until I came back, but... I want to be in your life, if you'd like me to be. I'd love to be a dad to you... and not just a father. I have no intention of ever leaving here either way, because... well... this town is home... you and your mother are home to me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melinda stabbed her eggs onto her fork before popping them into her mouth and grinned up at him as he talked about their team. She nodded quickly in agreement with him. She could feel as his mood changed, and he spoke of wanting to be her dad, not just her father. She nodded and put her plate down, looking at the tray braced over Owen's lap before she scrambled around it. "We got lots to catch up on, Da..." she stopped mid word and looked up at him before she finished it. "Dad..." she giggled and hugged his arm, resting her head against his shoulder. "Dad you've been a camera for so long... I like saying it to you. Dad. Dad. Dad...."

She giggled again, then leaned forward and grabbed her plate again, pulling it onto her lap. "Good, don't leave again. I know momma was sad for a long time. But she said that you had something important, because it was family. And, well, you're home now, dad. Momma said you have work now, but that's not the same as leaving, because she says you're real careful and you'll always come back... right?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen was taken aback by the way his daughter moved towards him, suddenly afraid that his condition might cause her to unintentionally cause him pain. Then she said the word "Dad" in reference to him, and it made his breath catch in his throat. Once was difficult enough, but as she kept repeating the moniker it only made the lump in his throat grow larger with each repetition of the word. Her mention of his being nothing but camera for her formative years brought emotions forth Owen wasn't sure he could contain, and it was the most intense struggle he'd ever faced not to openly weep at the sadness brought forth by her words.

Melinda's small frame juxtaposed against his arm as she curled up against it melted Owen's heart. She was so tiny, and he was massive, yet there wasn't any chance in the world that he could be capable of hurting her. Her head coming to rest against his shoulder made it entirely too difficult to control his heartache. Somehow he managed to keep it together, but it was only through the joy that bloomed through his heart that he was able to.

Knowing she was an empath, Owen hoped against hope that's what she gleaned from him most of all. "I like hearing you say it to me, angel-foot," he replied in a whisper before she pulled away.

The mage poked at his scrambled eggs again, noting that Cassandra had already pre-peppered them just the way his mother used to. He managed to get a few bites in while Melinda started in on his job and whether or not he would leave again. Having Cassandra's pain confirmed for him by her words was not easy for him to hear, but he somehow despite everything managed to hold himself together as his gaze flicked to hers briefly. His heart clenched when Melinda spoke of him always coming back, and he quickly looked over at the young girl with compassion.

"No, little one," he said. His voice had more strength in it now. "I won't leave again... not like that. I will always be careful so that I can come back safe. And... if it's okay with you and your mother, I'd... I'd like us all to be a family..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melinda swallowed her eggs as she felt the surface emotions flowing through her dad, first an overwhelming sadness, but was quickly replaced by joy. She giggled at the nickname and poked the sausage link, taking a bite off one end of it almost aggressively. "Yeah!" She looked over at her mother and nodded. "You want that, right momma?"

Cassandra was taken back by his conviction, and it left a lump in her own throat to see the duo together finally. She could barely meet Owen's eyes as he looked up at her as her daughter ratted her out on how she hurt when he'd left. But as her daughter turned to her with her bright eyes a smile spread on her lips. "It's all I've ever wanted, baby." she said, using the endearment not just toward her daughter, but to Owen as well, her voice softening as she said it.

"Dad?" Melinda asked then drawing all attention in the room back onto her, which was difficult not to pay attention to the bundle of energy. "Momma said you're hurt, so you sleep all week under a spell. Kinda like Sleeping Beauty... thought that's kinda funny to think of my Dad like that... but can I show you my room? Can you walk? Momma said the chair downstairs was yours, and I'll carry it up here i-i-if I have to. How long are you gonna hafta sleep?"

Cassandra giggled softly as Melinda started barraging Owen with questions, unable to help herself as the child's natural inquisitive nature took control of her. She only hoped he would be able to handle all of the questions, both the easy and the more difficult ones the girl would ask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen felt his heart skip a beat at the agreement from them, and again felt the lump rising within his own throat. His chest was tight, and it felt like his insides were trying to compress themselves so as to not burst out of him with the emotion he felt. Thankfully, Melinda quickly moved into her next series of questions. Owen couldn't contain the chuckle that bubbled forth as she compared him to sleeping beauty and asked if he wanted to see her room.

"I would love to see your room, pumpkin," he replied softly. "But I am very hurt. I almost didn't make it back after rescuing your aunt, but the doctors have looked at me and as long as I follow their orders I'll be fine. I don't want you or your mother to have to carry anything up here. It's just right around the corner right? I think I can make it if your mother will let me out of bed..."

His gaze drifted to Cass then, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra shook her head and smiled softly. "Why don't we wait until D-..." She had to trail off to swallow hard to keep from crying, and smiled at her daughter as she rose an eyebrow. "Until daddy can walk easier."

Melinda huffed and flopped back against the headboard, looking up at Owen. "She's no fun."

Cassandra faked being insulted and huffed right back at her daughter. "I beg your pardon missy, but I'm lots of fun."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That weekend went better than Owen could have ever anticipated. It was obvious that Melinda adored him, which was more than he could have hoped for. Having never been a parent, Owen was not prepared for how much time the girl wanted to spend around him. Thankfully, his years searching for Rachael had taught him infinite patience, and it was easy for him to be kind to her even when he was exhausted.

The highlights for Owen were always the Falcons games on Sundays. Cass would bring him down to the first floor and let him stretch on the couch. Melinda sat in front of him on her giant stuffed polar bear on the floor. Cass would sit at his feet on the other end and they would watch the football game. Owen's favorite team had started off the year in shaky fashion, with their 2-2 start. But they rattled off four straight wins when Owen started his stay there. It was a raucous time, with the offense firing on all cylinders and the defense playing hard-nosed, opportunistic slobber-knockers.

Cassandra was an excellent steward of Owen and Melinda's time together, and as the days after their meeting stretched into weeks, the mage slowly healed from his injuries. The painkillers lasted far beyond what the doctor had prescribed, and the x-rays always showed more progress than expected. By the fourth week, he was almost completely healed and able to move around much more easily.

It was late the night before his final x-ray as Owen rested against Cassandra's breast, his eyes closed as he felt her fingertips tenderly tracing the scars on his back. His breathing was deep and even as he simply luxuriated in the ability to be close to the woman he loved, whom he never thought he would ever see again. Owen shifted a little to look up at her, his gaze longing even as words tumbled through his head.

"I would have given anything to spend the past ten years doing this instead, darlin," he whispered against her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the weeks that passed, Cassandra remained ever vigilant for the shadow assassins. She'd taken to sleeping with her door and the door to Owen's room open to make certain she would hear the music should they ever appear again. Things there stayed silent, and the witch was grateful for it. She was able to focus then on the family dynamic they were creating with their routine of waking Owen Friday evenings instead of waiting until Saturday morning so Melinda could talk his ear off about school and her friends.

She worried that Melinda would overwhelm him with the information she was divulging, but he never complained. It warmed Cassandra's heart to see them together, Melinda going through her spelling test scores with him, and art projects from the week while she lingered by the doorway to give them their time.

Saturday mornings they had breakfast as a family in Owen's bed, the chatterbox ever present as their daughter talked about things that had happened with the coven. Demon attacks that she'd been witness to, and gave praise to everyone, especially her mother, for 'being superheroes'. She would go on to admit she knew her mom and aunts and uncles weren't really superheroes.

"But it's fun to pretend sometimes, right, dad?" Melinda said with her blue eyes shining up at him.

The Sundays were Cassandra's favorite part of the week, when she was able to get Owen out of his bed rest and bring him downstairs to watch the football games. Melinda and Owen were able to bond more and she couldn't suppress the grin that spread on her features when either the Falcons botched a play, or the refs made a bad call and Melinda and Owen would have the same outburst reaction to it.

They both would get Melinda off to bed for school the next day, and spend the rest of the evening with each other. The evening before his final x-ray, Cassadnra was glad to know that he wouldn't be undergoing his spell again. She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled down at him as he spoke, the same longing rushing through her in response.

"Me too, baby. But we're here now, we're kinda getting this whole family unit thing down, don't you think?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen nuzzled his face into her neck as he simply enjoyed the feeling of being next to her. He hadn't spoken much with Melinda about his past or his search for Rachael, having been content to just listen to the girl talk about anything and everything. The chatterbox in her reminded him of Cass when she'd ramble, and he welcomed her interest in him.

Now though, he was alone with the woman he loved, and his focus was solely on her and what she was doing with her fingers in his hair. The mage's fingertips moved under the soft fabric of her tank just below her floating ribs and feeling the chill bumps that formed on her skin from the contact. He loved that she still reacted to him so favorably, and brushed his thumb against her bottom rib each time he passed like a contented cat.

"Yeah, It's going to take some getting used to, but I definitely think I can do it... especially with how much that little girl seems to adore me already. I'm very thankful for that, for you raising her not to resent me. You were obviously the right choice to be the mother of my children."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blush moved across Cassandra's cheeks and the goosebumps that rose on her skin at his touch spread over her body as he kept hitting a sensitive area on her body with that rib. "You're doing wonderfully with her. I know it must be difficult becoming a dad to a ten year old... wait, did you say children, plural?" she suddenly asked with a quirked eyebrow and a smile.

Not that she minded the thought of having more children with Owen, she loved the idea of it, and she knew that Melinda would make a perfect big sister. The love of her life had already showed his merit with being a dad, so much so that she didn't worry at all about him becoming a father again. She had a feeling that he would be even closer to any children they had from then on out then he might be with Melinda, but didn't stress about it from the way the duo had been bonding as it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra caught his slip up, but Owen couldn't help but smile. The truth was he did want to have more children with her. It wasn't something he wanted for a couple of years at least, but eventually he wanted to experience fatherhood from the get-go. Owen placed a soft kiss against her throat, groaning softly as her touch continued through his hair.

"Yeah, I did. Eventually I'd like to have a few more... try it from the ground up. Besides... I think trying with you would be fun," he said with a wink. "Not anytime soon though, we all need to enjoy some time alone as a family... just the three of us. For a few years at least."

He continued to move his touch over her bare skin near the rib and over it, enjoying the reaction it garnered from her. Owen longed to slide his hand up further beneath her shirt and explore more of how her body had changed, but intimacy was still a thought that in general terrified him. The mage knew she would never intentionally harm him, but it was simply something he personally was not ready for.

"I want to be a family with you. Just... remember to be patient with me and give me time to adjust. That's all I ask," he said quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The witch giggled softly as he mentioned trying for more children being fun. A blush worked its way onto her cheeks and she gave his hair a gentle tug in reaction. She did agree with him that more children would need to wait. Melinda deserved that much. She could barely focus on his words as he moved his hand over her skin, and she couldn't help the slight shifts she gave under him. The touch almost tickled, and yet sent tingles racing through her body.

Cassandra pressed a kiss to his hair, and continued the motion of her nails through his hair down his neck to his back once more, unintentionally tracing the scars there as if to ease away the ache that had caused them too long after the fact. Truth was for every scar she touched, she could almost see the strike that broke open his skin, could nearly feel the agony in her own back that it'd caused. She wanted to show Owen that they didn't repulse her, in fact they only reaction they gave her any longer was grief for what he'd been through. They made her want to help ease his fears of them by giving him a soothing touch over them.

"Patience is something I have more than enough of," she responded with a smile. "You hear our daughter, you need patience to deal with the chatterbox."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Page 17
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment Cassandra's touch moved to the scars on his back, Owen practically melted against her. He shuddered, becoming a dead weight against her as goosebumps formed over every inch of undamaged skin. Owen groaned softly, quickly feeling his eyelids getting heavy.

There was no question he could have lain there for an eternity and let her continue what she was doing to him. Though there was much residual pain Cass garnered from the way she stroked his back, the touch of the instrument had actually made the nerves there more sensitive as opposed to less. As a result it made what she was doing feel amazing to Owen.

"I... I love it when you do that..." he whispered against her neck. "I have patience... I want to get to know you again, too. And now, both of you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled, and traced her fingertips over the scars moreso, kissing his hair as she did. "We'll get to know each other, baby. As for Melinda, she'd gladly tell you everything about her in one breath if she was allowed to." she finished with a chuckle, knowing he'd seen enough of their daughter's tendencies to speak without taking breaths, and speaking at the speed a cheetah runs.

She had started to speak again when a silly "Work is calling" ringtone sounded from the nightstand. She groaned and reached out for it, answering it to an ear piercing shriek. Cassandra pulled the phone from her ear, wincing before returning it as the caller calmed down. "What the hell?"

"RAT! Cass, the Inn has rats in the basement!" Miranda's voice came through in a panic.

"Whoa, rats? Are you sure? We have mouse traps down there to keep-"

"No, mice don't get as big as a housecat, Cassandra Michelle!"

The witch rose an eyebrow and pulled the phone away from her ear to look at it a moment before returning it. "Did you just use my middle name?"

"Cass! Exterminator. Now. I mean tonight."

"Where are you now?"

"Kitchen, Makayla's threatening to roast them all alive if they step foot in her area..."

"French fried rat, just what we need..." Cassandra said, pinching the the bridge of her nose. She groaned as she heard Miranda and Makayla both then trying to out do each other as to what the either would do if the rat tried to come above ground. "I don't need this...." She sighed, and looked down at Owen with an apologetic look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen let out a shuddering sigh as Cassandra's touch continued, but couldn't help the groan that escaped him when she was forced to withdraw. He had been moments from sleep, but Miranda's shriek immediately woke him up. Her voice from the other end of the phone was clear as day with how loud she was being, and Owen couldn't help but smirk as he picked up his own phone and started to send a message to Njord.

"I got this," he said in response to her look of apology.

~ Ten Minutes Later ~

Dressed in his work flannel and blue jeans, Njord opened the front door to the Inn and stepped inside. Owen had told him his contact was a chesty brunette with pretty eyes, and that had been enough incentive for him to work some overtime. At six-foot-four, two hundred seventy pounds the Bloodrage was an imposing figure even in his human form.

A scream of horrified frustration from a room somewhere behind the front desk drew his attention, and he couldn't help but smirk as he started through the door. When he entered, he found two incredibly attractive women looking at a cellar door and one of them was brandishing a meat cleaver. He swallowed roughly as he took in their shapely forms from behind, curious as to which one Owen was referring to.

"Somebody call for an exterminator?" he asked, leaning casually against the door frame. When the women turned around, he immediately knew which one Owen meant, and couldn't help but appreciate both of them with a very brief, subtle once-over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda had been ready to slice and dice should any of the rodents dare come above ground, but the moment the deep voice sounded, she nearly jumped out of her skin before she turned. And in the instant she looked over him, she was grateful she hadn't, for the way her body reacted to him. "Rats..." she said then, pointing with the blade to the basement door.

Makayla smirked and shook her head, able to see the attraction to the man in front of the both of them, but could tell with just the one breathed word that Miranda had set her sights on him. She laughed softly and pointed to the door. "Thanks for coming so late. I'm surprised her shriek didn't wake our guests."

"It wasn't that loud."

"Could could have roused the dead with it," Makayla said then and smirked at the man. "Makayla Ryland, I'm the chef for the Inn. The nervous nelly over here is Miranda Graves."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord arched an eyebrow at the two and his smile widened at their banter. He shook both of their hands as he greeted them. "Njord Camareno," he replied. "And I'm sure it would be a less stressful meeting under different circumstances. So tell me about this rat problem you're having?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda smiled up at him, tilting her head a bit to actually meet his gaze. "You pretty much summed it up... I-" she stopped speaking, and started moving for the door. "I was putting away new inventory when one I swear it was as big as a house cat ran past me."

"You exaggerate, I doubt it was that big, rats don't get that big," Makayla said then, arching an eyebrow.

"This one was," Miranda insisted, and looked up at Njord. "I swear, it was huge."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord nodded and put his hands on his hips as he approached the one Owen had accurately described, offering her a reassuring smile. "Well, I'm sure I can do something to take care of the little problem you're having," he said, eyeballing her in such a way as to suggest he might not be referring to the rodent infestation. After waiting a beat to let her get the wrong idea if she wanted, Njord continued. "Would you mind showing me where you saw it?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda's tongue darted out to wet her lips in response to him, the way she'd done it brought her lower lip between her teeth for a second. She gave him a smile, then instinctively turned on her own brand of charm, looking up at him through her lashes, and looped her arm through his. "I think as long as you're down there to scare them away, I'll be able to..." she pulled open the door and flicked on the light. Though when she stepped down, she was a little more wary of what she was doing as she watched the stairs and then the floor carefully. She reached the second set of shelves then pointed down the longer aisle. "It ran back there, right between me and the shelving..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord was taken aback by Miranda's forwardness, but was not at all displeased with the way she looped her arm through his and perfectly portrayed the damsel in distress. It would have made him laugh were it not for the fact this gorgeous, well-endowed brunette was obviously interested in him. At the very least he might wind up having a good time with her. When they reached the spot where she saw the animal, Njord nodded and moved away from her to investigate.

He searched for any sign of entry or exit in the walls behind the shelving, as well as any boxes that might have been chewed through. As he moved one in particular, the creature in question tried to dart out around him and take a flying leap at Miranda. Njord spun, moving faster than any human could as he reached out to snatch the thing by its neck mid-flight. A flex of his hand was all that was needed to crush the creature's neck, and as Njord looked at it his eyes widened a little.

"Yeah... you've got a rat problem..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda watched him as he moved further down the aisle and nodded as he crouched to start looking through boxes on a bottom shelf. "Yeah, I think I saw it trying to go through..." that was when the rat leaped out and into the air. Miranda screamed, took a step back and brought her hands up to protect her head when it suddenly stopped. She brought them down and looked at Njord in awe. "That... was excellent reflexes."

She knew in an instant that the man before her wasn't a simple man, but wasn't about to make a big deal about it. Thankfully she hadn't let her control over air loose when she flung her hands up and outed herself. "What is it? It's bigger than a normal rat, isn't it?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda's voice fell on deaf ears as Njord looked at the varmint in his hand, feeling the essence within it draining out now that it was a corpse. He dropped it on the floor and pulled an entire shelf away from the wall to reveal a hole large enough for a Great Dane to easily fit through behind all the boxes. It ran back and sloped downwards until there was nothing but black, and Njord frowned. He sniffed the air, and realized that while he may not have been standing in a Nexus that he was certainly near one.

"Yeah... you've got a 'big' rat problem."

He turned to look back at Miranda, breathing in her scent. Even from a distance, he could detect a slight arousal towards him, mixed with fear of what he had uncovered and a slight hint of something... different. He wondered if Owen had sent him into a den of supernaturals, but concluded it was likely since this was the inn his friend's girlfriend owned.

"If that was the first rat you saw, they're working quicker than I thought... or it's a secondary-den..." he said more to himself than to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda started to protest him moving the shelf at first, but all thoughts of everything dropping onto the floor went out of her head as the hole was revealed. She swallowed roughly and couldn't help the whimper that escaped at the thought of more rats being able to make their way into the Inn through it.

"S-secondary? Did you just say Secondary den? Like there's more of those bastards here?"

Miranda huffed and nervously pulled her hair over her shoulder shaking her head. "No, no we can't have that... what can I... Can I do anything to help?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It quickly became clear how much the woman in the cellar with him was stressing out, so Njord tried to give her a reassuring smile. He couldn't help but notice the way she pulled her hair over her shoulder nervously, and took a step towards her as he kept her gaze. He had to figure out if he could tell her what was really going on, or just wind up locking himself down here until he could determine whether backup was needed.

"Oh yes, this likely is just a secondary nest with the main one somewhere else in town... which means when I'm finished with this I need to conduct an investigation. As far as this... are you uh... on the wagon as far as your friend Cass is concerned?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda smiled up at him as he stepped toward her and then nodded. She arched an eyebrow and a small breeze fluttered through the basement. "I'm a witch like she is. Makayla is too, you can speak freely with us..." she stepped closer to him then, looking up into his eyes. "But you... I've only seen those reflexes once before."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she confessed to her supernatural nature, Njord breathed out a sigh of relief. He smirked at her inquisition, then gestured back towards the hole in the wall. "I'm in luck then, as are you. What you're dealing with is a Beshilu infestation. From the looks of it, a pretty nasty one. Lucky for you, Bloodrage specialize in rooting these sorts of things out. That being said... I might need some backup in there, but I need to know if you can handle a gun before I bring you with me."
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Page 18
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Miranda arched an eyebrow, not recognizing the term he used, but understanding the basics. She understood Beshilu, it was a term the local Uratha pack had once used. She smirked and him and nodded, holding her hand out. "I'm able to fire one halfway decently. Not a sniper by any means, but I could hit cans off the pasture fence with dad." She glanced down and smirked a little, "Good thing I decided to forgo the heels."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord couldn't help but chuckle a little at her comment about the heels, but gave her an affirmative nod. "Come on, I need to get a few things out of my truck... Which is really Owen's truck, which he will stab me if I scratch."

He gave her a sheepish grin before brushing past her gently to climb the staircase. Njord led her out the front door with only a smile towards Makayla if she even paid them attention, and pulled open the toolbox. The Bloodrage rummaged through it gently before withdrawing a pump action twelve gauge shotgun and handing it to her, along with a forty-five caliber handgun.

"These are yours," he said, handing the weapons and extra ammunition to her. Njord turned back and withdrew a bandoleer of knives that appeared too large for throwing despite that being their intent. That he slung over the edge of the truck bed, and upon closer inspection it became clear that the weapons had been hand-carved from bone and were clearly razor sharp.

Lastly, he withdrew a black briefcase and closed the lid of the toolbox. After hopping down from the back of the vehicle, Njord set down the briefcase and opened the passenger door. He stripped out of the flannel, leaving only a black tank top underneath. Despite the chill in the air, he strapped the bandoleer over his shoulder before pulling the flannel back on over it and leaving it unbuttoned. The Bloodrage turned back to Miranda after closing the door and collecting the briefcase and offered her a smile.

"You ready to protect your investment?" he asked as they started back inside. "I might go freelance contractor if these are the sorts of jobs I get. I'm going to quickly run out of explanations for Scotty if I'm leaving receipts for buckshot and fifty caliber hollow points."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda followed along behind Njord closely, giving Makayla a smirk as she moved through the kitchen, ignoring the Latina's rolled eyebrows as she prepped the next morning's breakfast. She rose her eyebrows as he pulled the weapons out of the back of the truck and nodded in approval.

She watched him closely as he stripped out of the flannel, unable to help the way her gaze moved over his physique. She smiled back up at him and nodded. "More than ready. Don't worry, you'll get a good payment from Cass and I for this." She led him back into the Inn, waiting until they were back in the kitchen and heading to the basement before speaking again. "We have a local Uratha pack. I can't believe they haven't worked to rid the town of them yet..."

Miranda gave a little sheepish smirk before shrugging. "My little sister does a lot to research different cultures. Keeps us up to date. These... uh, Beshilu? They're Uratha territory, or supposed to be, right?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord paused halfway down the basement stairs and turned back to look at her as he slowly took the rest of them. "There's a local pack here? Nobody bothered to mention that to me... They must be fairly recent comers."

As he finished his descent and started towards the opening, Njord's head exploded with thought. His mind raced to how hostile the local Uratha might be, and if he would be forced to leave, join, or risk death. It was a common occurrence in Bloodrage culture to be extremely territorial, though seldom openly hostile, to those outside their circle. He peered down the tunnel, hoping to see something, anything that might give him some clue of what he was walking into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda nodded and gave him a smile. "The girls are great, they came in a couple years ago." she responded, falling silent again as she followed him closer to the gaping hole in the wall. She didn't relish the thought of going into it and coming up against a nest of rats. She put the hand gun into the waistband of her pants and cocked the shotgun. "I've got your back, Njord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord tilted his head at the mention of the fact they were all girls. "Oh good God, no..." he whispered under his breath as he stepped into the opening ahead of her to muffle the sound. The Bloodrage went ahead of her, crawling on all fours but taking a moment to look back over his shoulder.

[Background Music - "The Tail Cave"]

"Please refrain from firing the shotgun when you're behind me. It's only got eight shots, but I'm sure four or five would be enough to finish me off if you sent me into Kuruth, and I'd rather that than the alternative..." He trailed off, only half joking as he continued around the downward slope. The bloodrage smelled raw sewage and heard droplets of water falling up ahead, and knew immediately what he might be in for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord's reaction to the pack being all female did escape Miranda's notice, and waited a moment until she crawled into the tunnel behind him. She smirked and shook her head as she followed behind, gagging a few moments later as the pungent aroma of raw sewage assaulted her senses. Her eyes watered and she had to shake her head to clear it. "Trust me... I know how to handle a firearm. Please don't tell me that's leading where I think it's leading?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda's reply brought a smirk to Njord's countenance, as did the sound of her gagging. It made his mind wander to places where it became difficult to focus on the task at hand. He risked another glance back at her and arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's the sewer you smell. Here's hoping there aren't any masked turtles with them down here," came Njord's reply.

He found the opening and crawled out of it, reaching out to help Miranda out a moment later. There was a small landing beside a river of literal sewage and water moving at a steady stream about eight feet across. Njord waved his weapon back and forth as if to disperse the odious stench while holding his nose with his other hand.

"Takes a big system to runoff all those tourists, it seems," he commented. "Smells like a skunk juggling dead hampsters down here... only worse."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda couldn't help the little laugh she gave as she suddenly hated her choice of attire. She was certain that as she approached the exit to the tunnel and he helped her out, he got an eyeful of her chest trapped by the corseted top she wore. She set the shot gun down and accepted his help, reaching for the shot gun a moment later. She rose an eyebrow and smirked up at him. "Two skunks..." she retorted with humor in her eyes. "Which way? The sooner we get away from this stench the better in my book."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord narrowed his gaze and took a deep breath as he scanned his surroundings, trying to gain an answer for her question. His sharp ears picked up some scratching in the distance, and drew his attention to the left. The Bloodrage led his impromptu partner down the corridor, his rifle at the ready but with the barrel lowered as he searched with piercing eyes for any sign of danger.

"I certainly hope you didn't wear your Jimmy Chew-what's-his-name fancy shoes down here, sweetheart," he quipped in a growled whisper. "It looks like we're going to get ankle deep at least here in a bit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped her lips and shook her head. "I save the Jimmys for dates. Just too bad I didn't go with boots." Her nose crinkled with the thought of sewage getting into her tennis shoes and tightened her grip on the shot gun. "Might be ankle deep on you...."

The witch didn't hear anything different, other than the drops of Goddess knew what in the sewage, but trusted the man in front of her, though she didn't truly know if she could. She didn't think that someone meaning harm to her would have given her a shot gun and let her stand behind him, however.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord continued to lead her down the curve in the corridor, and noticed a grate with another large hole chewed through it. A smirk overcame his countenance that would have been too dark for her to see without the beam from her flashlight. As it settled over the opening, he reached out and pushed the barrel of the weapon down before crossing his lips with his finger.

"Shh... dim that, I think we're getting close. At least to the one that's raiding your cellar." he whispered.

He didn't give a second thought to trusting Miranda. These were friends of the woman Owen was trusting his life and health to, so Njord had no reason to doubt her watching his back. He took a three-step run before leaping across the gap and avoiding landing in the raw sewage before looking over at her with a smirk. A 4x2 leaned against the edge of the circle and had been left behind by old construction crews, which the Bloodrage quickly laid across the gap for her to use as they had.

"I wouldn't fancy a swim in that, miss. Watch your step," he whispered with a smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda clicked the flashlight to dim it further and stopped as he leaped ahead. "I hope so, I'm starting to get used to the smell, which means I"m smelling like it." She paused and watched him as the 4X2 fell across the opening. "I wouldn't fancy that either, I don't need to be reeking of it."

Tentatively, she stepped up onto the piece of wood and made quick work of getting across it to stand beside Njord, smiling up at him. "After you..." she said, gesturing a little with the end of her shotgun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord shrugged at her comment about getting used to the smell. "Hey, it may come in handy if the Frog People ever decide to grow a set and take over the surface world," he said with complete seriousness. "Could drive everyone underground, and might give you a leg up in the short term."

He ducked into the opening, which was thankfully a pipe large enough for him to walk through while hunched over. At the other end of it he emerged to see two sentries patrolling the cylindrical chamber he stepped into, and quickly sheathed his rifle to draw a pair of knives. His first throw caught the one in back in the neck and severed its head, and the second pinned the remaining guard to the wall through its eye socket.

"They're everywhere," he whispered, looking at the three other exits. "I don't know which way to go..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda arched an eyebrow at Njord as he first spoke, hoping he wasn't truly serious. Then the witch followed behind him, able to stand in the tunnel while he hunched over. She lifted the gun, aiming it at the second when the knife suddenly thwacked against the wall. She jumped a little and flicked the safety back on, taking a step back as she eyed the options. "I'm no use here. Though straight up the middle..." she said using the barrel of the shot gun to gesture the direction. "Is always a good idea."

The witch knew she'd had a double entendre with that statement, and although it wasn't initially meant, she smirked to let it linger in the air a moment before glancing back and forth down each tunnel and started for the one in the middle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Page 19
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After collecting the knives, Njord shrugged and nodded. "Fair enough, right up the middle it is. Don't fire unless you have to, but stay frosty."

The Bloodrage followed his counterpart into the passage, appreciating the fine shape of her feminine figure as it moved in front of him. When they emerged from the other side, the duo found themselves overlooking a drop-off into a large, circular chamber. Njord's eyes darted back and forth, taking in everything as more than a dozen Beshilu swarmed around below, scurrying back and forth at tasks he couldn't even begin to guess at.

After tallying the numbers up in his head, Njord looked over at his counterpart from their perch on the ledge and leaned over to growl into her ear. "This is going to get hairy, and quick," he said with a low rumble. "I don't want you in the line of fire, so sit your good looks up here unless I get into a real mess. You're insurance only. This is my job to do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda grimaced as she saw the overgrown rats below them. "Ewwww..." she breathed softly, backing up just a little before she ran into Njord's body. She gasped a little and looked up at him over her shoulder. "Don't have to tell me twice."

Miranda knew about the jobs the Uratha had to do within the town thanks to the local pack. She wouldn't interfere unless she had to, though she had a feeling she was going to be blasting a few of their brains onto the ground below them.

"Just be careful."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord's reply was a whisper as he invoked his Gift of Vanish and his presence was erased from the visual spectrum. "This is what I do, sweet cheeks."

And then he was off, Running Shadow the second Gift that kept his footfalls completely silent. He swung beneath the walkway as he shifted his legs into Urshul and sank his claws into the concrete to hang upside down. He shouldered the rifle, carefully walking along the underside of the walkway away from Miranda to set up an angle on his opening shot.

When he was about forty degrees away from her along the arc, the Bloodrage stopped. Njord peered through the scope and took aim, and fifteen seconds passed before squeezed the trigger. Within the confines of the relatively large chamber, the shot echoed like a thunderclap as the fifty caliber round erupted from the barrel. Five Beshilu heads from one end of the room to the other exploded as the straight shot slug tore through all of them.

It actually took a few seconds for the collective group to process what had happened, and as quickly as Njord's shot had made him appear, he re-invoked the Vanish gift before getting spotted. Some of them scattered, but those that didn't paid the price as another three of their number were obliterated by a second shot from a different place on the perimeter.

That sent the swarm into a frenzy, as they all desperately began searching for the perpetrator and screeching when a few of the more alert ones spotted Njord hanging beneath the walkway opposite Miranda's position. He disappeared again as two of the beasts hurled themselves at him, and they smacked snout-first into the wall instead. Seconds later, a third shot made them pay for their ignorance and carried their hearts out of their backs.

Njord this time appeared on the domed ceiling, and many of the Beshilu had already taken to ascending the walls, making the Bloodrage pay close attention to Miranda's last known position and direct his next shot to drop another three. The round tore the top half of a sewer slave driver's head off, punched a fist sized hole in the second's chest and took the third's leg off at the hip. He materialized in a clearer location along the domed roof this time, but the Shadowclaw's luck had run out.

A horde's nest nearby threw itself at his back the moment he came into view, and sent them both crashing to the ground effectively three stories below. Njord felt ribs give way, but thankfully were only dislocated rather than broken. The Beshilu he'd landed on, however, was not so lucky. He crushed it utterly, and felt the satisfying crunch of its skeleton beneath him like a fat kid sitting on a bag of Doritos. As he painfully got up, however, every beady eye on the room was focused squarely on him.

"Well... I guess I've evened the odds enough..."

Njord's shift was so utterly abrupt that happened in the blink of an eye. One moment his impressive human form stood in the center of the room with the rifle at his feet, and the next it was a full Garu bear glowering angrily at the horde it now towered over. Rippling muscle covered his entire form, but was hidden beneath fur the color of freshly fallen snow. The roar he let out shook the entire chamber, and some of the smaller ones cowered and scurried towards the exits.

The rest, however, all descended upon him at once. In a literal swarm of tails and teeth the Beshilu charged in like a hurricane, only to meet the Avalanche head on. Njord was as brutal with his claws and teeth as he was efficient with his rifle. Blood and gore flew everywhere as Njord had invoked his gift of Savage Rending just prior to his third shot, and his claws and teeth peeled through flesh and bone like wet tissue paper.

Still, that did not keep them from landing on his back and sinking their teeth and claws into him, and even as he would pull them off and crush them beneath his heavy paws their sheer number began to get the better of him. Miranda's steady shotgun blasts from the walkway above kept him from being completely overwhelmed, but it was in doubt as to whether the Bloodrage could win the war of attrition against their numbers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda jumped a little as he disappeared, then smirked at his response to her. Once his presence was gone from her side, the witch glanced around, looking for a place to hide and yet still see the disgusting things below. She couldn't keep track of where Njord had gone, but the rifle shots let her know he was still okay, and she squeezed herself into a crevice in the wall, making certain her back was protected.

She made certain that she didn't pull the trigger until she saw one of the creatures leaping for Nojrd as he fell from the ceiling. She couldn't help feeling a surge of satisfaction watching it explode as buckshot ripped through it.

"Take that fucker," Miranda muttered and reloaded the chamber, the tell tale sign of a shot gun being cocked echoing just as Njord hit the floor. She leaned forward just a little to watch him get up, making certain he was alright before taking aim again.

Though as he shifted, the witch couldn't help the awe she stood there in, watching a massive white bear erupt from the dark haired man that had stood in the middle of the room. Her jaw dropped as she watched him take on the rats, and made her hesitate before she lifted the shot gun and shot one trying to drop onto him, the spray of the buckshot ripping the faces from two others as she cocked the gun again and took another shot.

Her gut twisted as their numbers seemed to overwhelm him and she let out a little whimper as her shots had to get closer to his body. She didn't trust the spray and then dropped the shot gun onto the ground and pulled out the handgun he'd given her, flicked the safety off and lined up another shot...

Music - https://youtu.be/hquC148QUSc?t=20m54s

That was when a rumbled growl sounded out down the pathway from her and she saw a russet blur leap from the walkway, shifting from Urhan to Urshul mid-leap. Miranda leaned forward and watched the russet wolf grab what would be the scruff of the neck of one off of Njord's back and flung it across the chamber into the wall. The wolf let out a growl of her own, lowering her body to the ground as her gaze challenged them as well.

Another blur sent the little ones that had ran from Njord's own war cry retreating back into the chamber as a redhead grew to six foot three inches and then to her Gauru form, a large war form with white fur, silver edging the tips stood in the entryway. She reached out and snatched two of the little ones and crushed their skulls with her claws before moving to rake her claws over Njord's back, sending the rats flying across the room.

Two more joined the fray below the thinner of the duo flipping over a rat, partial changing her hands to claws, using her momentum to fling it across the room, slamming it into the wall. The woman landed on her feet, threw her head back and let out a howl that shook even Miranda to her core.

The witch knew that the local pack had finally arrived, and popped off another that leaped to Paisley, the more curvaceous of the twins, who stood focusing her gifts, a breeze picked up in the cavern, whipping Miranda's hair around her face, and the buxom brunette lifted her own gun, taking the last off of Njord's back.

There was only one left that Miranda didn't see, the little one who unnerved Miranda. Alyssa. The girl who'd suffered much in her short time on earth, with the constant Uratha Gift to see activated. But it was when a tremor moved through the cavern that let Miranda know she'd arrived. And sure enough she appeared seemingly out of nowhere beside Njord, straightening a large rock into a staff and used it to slam into a large rat's head, screaming in her human voice as she planted the staff, launched herself up onto the large rat's back and then gave the same treatment to the rat's skull, effectively dropping it to the ground before Njord.

As the girl landed before him, she smirked up at the bear, straddling the corpse of the rat before she picked up the staff and raced to stand beside Paisley.

Miranda couldn't help laughing at that, watching as Brina - the white alpha of the pack - moved to put her back to Njord's, and who had to of been MaKenna, and Piper circled around the edges of the cavern. She was thankful for them, hopefully none would escape and their town would be free of the rats for good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord's internal alarms went off moments before the other Bloodrage showed up, and their arrival was not something wholly unexpected nor desired. His mind in that form was not clear enough to process complex thoughts with the rage tearing through him, but he did not identify them as foes. That course proved correct when they immediately joined him in decimating the local Beshilu population, and by the time the rage within Njord died down enough force him back into human form the rest were gone.

He was weak, exhausted, and quite frankly beaten on though rapidly healing. Regardless, Njord refused to show any weakness to the local pack. The Shadowclaw carefully bent down to pick up his rifle and pull the strap back over his shoulder and let it hang across his back as he regarded the women.

"My name is Avalanche," he growled, picking out the clear Alpha of the group. "I seek no claim to your territory. I am here because of a friend, and would like for things to stay peaceful."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brina watched as her girls finished off the last of the Beshilu, and shifted back to Hishu as well, gifting Njord a smile. "Avalanche... I'm Brina," she held her hand out with a warm smile, looking to the girls, and then up to Miranda. "I'm guessing the local Coven are friends of yours," she said with a nod to the witch. "I'd prefer if things stayed peaceful as well, and you are welcome in Duskmarsh."

MaKenna shifted back to Hishu, her wavy brown hair swinging around her shoulders as she did so. "Brin, you know that's not the last of them, those fuckers came from somewhere."

"Paisley will secure the Shadow with Alyssa tonight," Brina returned, glancing away from Njord long enough to speak to her guard. Then she returned her attention back to the Uratha in front of her. "You have nothing to worry about from us, and have our protection," a smirk crossed her lips at the irony of offering the large man protection. "For as long as you're in town, we got your back."

Miranda smiled and sat on the edge of the walkway, swinging her feet as she watched the exchange. "Am I going to be stuck up here all night now? And Please tell me there's a better way to get back to the Inn without traipsing through the sewers?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Given how territorial most of their kind were, it surprised Njord at Brin's friendliness, especially given that female Alphas were generally far more protective of their packs. However, he shook her hand gratefully and the others as they were introduced. Njord realized there was a startlingly high number of attractive women in Owen's hometown, and wondered if he really ever wanted to move back to Nakina.

Her offer of protection was met with respect by the outsider, though he did chuckle inwardly at the irony. "I appreciate it. Please make me aware of any restrictions as far as Loci or hunting grounds go."

Njord looked up at Miranda then with a smirk and held his arms out in front of him as he stood underneath her. "Jump."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brina shrugged lightly and gave a smile. "We have the clock tower and the town. Though there is one in the woods we keep an eye on, it's technically unclaimed."

Paisley stepped forward and holstered her gun. "Might be where these guys came from."

"We fix." Alyssa said, timidly looking up at Njord.

Miranda arched an eyebrow and gagued the distance she would fall. "Drop me, and Cass will have your ass." she said with a smirk, then held her breath and grabbed the shotgun before launching herself off the ledge. She closed her eyes, and almost prayed as she dropped to Njord's waiting arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, I don't mind tagging along if I can claim it as work for pest control," the lone male said with a shrug.

Njord chuckled softly, and as she tossed herself off the ledge he met her gaze with a mischievous grin and used his gift of Vanish to disappear from view. The fall was far too quick for any of the others to intervene, but the moment he caught her perfectly in his arms, Njord reappeared. He was wearing an endlessly amused smile as he gently set her down on her feet, but not before taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of Miranda's form in his arms against him.

"Unfortunately I didn't bring my teleporter pad, so we're going to have to hoof it," the Bloodrage replied. "No reason we can't find the nearest surface access and walk topside, though."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A momentary flash of complete fear rushed through Miranda as Njord disappeared, and she couldn't help flailing a little, nor the gasp that emerged before she felt his arms catching her. She shook slightly and gripped hold of him, holding onto him even as he let her feet touch the ground.

"That... that was not funny," she said softly. Nope, she would never admit that had it not been done to her, she would have laughed her ass off. Nope. Not admitting that.

She still gripped hold of his arms and turned to look at the Pack who was regrouping together. "Walking back to the Inn topside is definitely happening," she returned with a raised eyebrow. Where did you girls come in from?"

"Our loci, we followed them back here pretty easily, the small ones are stupid," MaKenna responded, kicking the corpse of one of the Beshilu with a look of disdain in her eyes. "It's a ways away from Cass' Inn..."

Paisley grinned and clicked her tongue before she spoke, her gaze moving back and forth between Miranda and Njord. "Scenic walk though."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord chuckled darkly as Miranda chastised him, but didn't bother to disagree with her verbally. Rather, he simply waved at her to follow and started towards a nearby exit. That passage emptied back out into one of the main thoroughfares a few rooms later, where Njord found a cutaway with a ladder that led to the surface.

"Looks like this is our exit," he said, starting to climb. When he got to the top, the Bloodrage put his ear to the manhole cover. "I don't hear any traffic, either."

With that, the werebear slid the cover aside and hauled himself over the rim and into the night. He started to slide the cover back into place before stopping, poking his head over the edge and grinning mischievously. After helping the women out, he covered the hole and led them away from view before letting out a sigh.

"Where are we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda huffed as he pretended to put the cover back over their heads and shook her head. She gave him a playful swat as he helped her out and she tucked the hand gun back into the back of her pants as she looked around.

"Close to Howl," Brina commented, pointing down the road to the brightly lit sign with the full moon overlayed with a wolf throwing its head back. "Cass's Inn is back that way," she pointed in the opposite direction and gave Njord a smile. "You're welcome at the bar whenever you'd like. Welcome to Duskmarsh." She waited until Alyssa had joined them and wrapped an arm around her little sister. "See you around, Njord." She led the girls away from him down the street, giggles and bursts of laughter following after them.

Miranda smirked as she looked up the incredible distance to Njord's eyes. "Well, that was an interesting first meeting."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord nodded and bid the other Bloodrage farewell with a sincere smile. He was incredibly thankful for the positive attitude the local pack seemed to have towards newcomers, or at least him. He caught Miranda staring up at him a moment later and looked down at her curiously. Her words brought a smirk to his countenance as they started back towards the Butterfly Inn.

"Weres are unusual folk," he replied simply. "Then again, so are witches. I guess when you have to look literal demons in the face on a regular basis it paves the way for a few... quirks. What I want to know... is what are you going to tell the guy who has to patch the hole?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda laughed softly and shook her head. "Not a clue. Construction project gone wrong. A DIY thing maybe," she shrugged and hooked her thumbs in her pockets with a smile. "How long will you be in town, Njord?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord was a little surprised by her sudden shift in topic, but did not find it at all unwelcome. He put his thumbs through his belt loops as they walked, casting a glance over at her. Miranda was an intoxicating, beautiful woman and the way she had been looking at him told Njord she wasn't looking for someone to sell Avon with.

"I guess a bit longer than I thought at first," he replied honestly. "The local pack doesn't seem worried about my presence, and my best friend calls this place his home. It's not too far from my hometown either, so as long as I have what I need I see no reason to move on anytime soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda smiled up at him as they walked and she listened to his response. "And do you have everything you need? After tonight, it doesn't seem like monetary compensation will be enough, those rats were huge."

It was no secret in Duskmarsh that Miranda wasn't one to hold much, if anything, back, and that included her sexuality. She certainly found Njord attractive, and would have loved to have gotten him in bed in thanks for taking care of the rats. However, something within her said that Njord was different. He wasn't the normal type of passer through, there was something about him that set him aside from the rest, and she wanted to truly find out what that was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He arched an eyebrow at her momentarily before shrugging as they continued their leisurely stroll. Njord wasn't entirely sure what the woman meant by monetary compensation not being enough, but he could venture a guess or two. The Bloodrage looked ahead simply to avoid looking in her direction as he pondered the implications of her question and his answer.

"I've got food, shelter, and a bed to sleep in," he replied with a shrug. "Killing Beshilu is something I would do for free, anyway. Getting paid to do it is just a bonus. What other form of compensation were you thinking?" he asked, finally giving her a pointed look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda laughed softly and a small blush filled her cheeks. "I don't know now," she said with a light shrug. "A meal on the house at the Inn, maybe with company..." she trailed off, casting a glance up at him then another nervous laugh escaped her. She couldn't believe she'd just done that, normally she was the one being asked to dinner, not the other way around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord smirked without looking at her as they walked, but the expression was quickly replaced with one of consideration. He nodded a moment later and looked over at her.

"I'm definitely hungry after that fight," he agreed. "I ate a couple of them, but it didn't really hit the spot."

The inn appeared up ahead in the distance, but his focus remained on her. "And if you're the company, how could I say no?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda smirked and shook her head at his comment about eating the rats. She hadn't seen that, and truthfully, she was glad she'd missed it. A blush moved across her cheeks and she smiled up at him. She led Njord up to the porch and almost shyly looked back at him as she opened the door and called out for Makayla. When she appeared in the doorway between the dining room and kitchen she grinned. "Rats taken care of."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not, feel like cooking?"

"Now you're talking my language," the Latina said with a grin. "Already had something brewin' anyway. Felt like an enchilada night." she looked up at Njord and gave him a wink. "Got plenty for the man too."

Miranda turned on the balls of her feet to grin up at Njord then and nodded. "Can always count on her to have food around. Drink?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord followed the shapely brunette into the inn, doing his best to keep his eyes where they should be as they again entered the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded the two women. The thought of enchiladas made his stomach growl noisily, which brought a slight flush to his cheeks.

"Well that's good, as it seems there's no hiding my appetite," he said, giving Miranda a pointed look. "I would love a beer if you have any."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda grinned and moved to the fridge pulling out a couple of bottles, then handed one to him before manipulating the cap off with her abilities. Tossing it into the trash she brought the bottle to her lips and took a drink.

"Food has about five minutes left in the oven, you're certain the rat problem is dealt with?"

Miranda nodded and briefly updated the Latina on the goings on under the town. "You should have seen them all taking the rats out ,they were amazing." She grinned up at Njord as she sang his praises and reached out to touch his bicep. "You should have seen him."

Makayla grinned and leaned against the counter, shaking her head a little. "Cass is going to have a field day with the massive hole in the wall. Thankfully not many contractors ask questions... or too many questions."

"Though I have a few," Miranda said, turning to look up into Njord's eyes. "If you don't mind answering?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After taking a swig from the beer Miranda had given him, Njord pulled up a seat and relaxed back with a sigh. He tilted his head at the way she gushed to the other woman about his combat prowess, but couldn't help the slight blush that crept into his cheeks. Njord wasn't one to take a great deal of pride in his work, though he enjoyed it. Questions, on the other hand, he wasn't so sure about.

"I'll uh... answer what I can," he replied, taking another drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda grinned at his sudden seemingly hesitancy. "Nothing too bad. Just, you said Owen is your best friend, when did you guys meet? When he was gone?" The witch looked him up and down a moment and gave a soft giggle. "I think I'd remember someone like you around back in high school."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda's question was not unexpected, but it wasn't something Njord usually discussed with anyone. Of course, the two women in the room were on the same wagon train he was, which meant he could be a bit more forthcoming with them. He took another swig from his beer before setting it down on the table and composed himself.

"Well, that's kind of a long story, see... I was seventeen, but the Fox Swamp was the first thing I remember about anything in my life. I can still smell the dew kept fresh by the canopy of trees... the taste of the freshwater creeks..."

He woke with a start, gasping and clawing at air before realizing he was alone. He stopped and pushed himself up to a sitting position as he took in his surroundings. The young man found himself surrounded on all sides by heavily forested swampland, and also a decided lack of clothing on his direct person. His thoughts reached back to try and remember what happened, but found a blank slate.

Worst of all, he had the sudden deep-seated fear that he may just have something deeply wrong with him. Despite it being mid-afternoon, it was dark beneath the canopy of trees. Before terror could take hold, however, a strange music reached his ears. He tilted his head, straining to hear it more clearly.

[Song of Healing - TheOnlyDeerAlive]

Associating music with intelligent life was easy enough, and it was that which led him to follow the melodious tones wafting through the forest. As he made his way toward the sound, excitement and imagination began to get the better of him. Perhaps these people would know who he was or what had happened. At the very least they could tell him where he was, for what little good that would do him.

His speed picked up until he was almost at a full sprint in the woods, but his movements came with a natural ease that felt almost alien. The young man barely made a sound as he raced through the bush, his heart pounding faster the closer he got until he spotted a campfire in the distance. At the last possible moment, apprehension kicked in and he skidded to a halt just outside the clearing where he could hide in the treeline.

Seated up in the nest of branches of a dead tree within the clearing was a dark figure holding an acoustic guitar. The only thing he could make out besides the instrument were a pair of snakeskin boots and a cowboy hat, but the figure seemed to take notice of him. As the last riff faded out the music stopped for a brief moment, and he could make out the man's violet eyes and mischevious smirk. It was the look of someone who knew more than you did, and he didn't like it.

The man picked up his strumming with a bit of renewed vigor, gesturing with his foot toward the fire as he played the beautiful melody. He looked to where the man pointed and saw some clothes beside a simple steel blade. Over the roaring campfire was a spit with deer meat along with waterskins hanging near a sleeping roll. He looked back up at the man, who gave him a nod as he continued to play.

He did not move until the man had finished the song and somehow stuffed the instrument into his cowboy hat. That bit was rather odd, actually. The dark figure regarded him with a chuckle and dropped to the ground, still looking directly at his hiding spot.

"Come out here, my friend. Don't be afraid. I saw you asleep in the woods earlier today and thought you might be hungry when you woke up. After all those must have been some crazy shrooms for you to have gone running off into the forest without any clothes."

Hearing the man's genuine laughter made him smile a little as well. There was an uncertainty about whether or not he could trust this man, but an offer of food and clothing when he was hungry and cold didn't seem like a bad idea. He approached slowly, taking the jeans and t-shirt and quickly pulling them on before taking a seat on one one of the large logs near the fire pit.

"What's your name, nature-boy?" asked the dark man in a thick southern accent.

"Uh... I don't know," came his nervous reply.

"I guess I'll just have to give you one then," he said. "You're a big dude, and judging from the shape of your head I'd wager you've got some German or Scandinavian in you. I think I'll call you Njord."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda listened closely to the story, and smirked when he came to the point of Owen commenting on his lack of clothing, and the possibility of how he assumed Njord had gotten to that point. She tilted her head, listening closely and rose an eyebrow, looking to Makayla who had pulled the enchiladas out of the oven and was listening as well.

The witch smiled at the Latina and nodded. "So Owen gave you your name. I'm guessing the black out was right after you turned?" Miranda smiled softly up the distance between them at Njord and tilted her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord nodded curtly, taking a deep breath as he smelled the enchiladas coming out of the oven. "That he did. I can only assume that's what happened. I don't... I don't remember anything before that. Nothing but a void..." He trailed off, staring into space for a moment as he seemed to concentrate on trying to remember something, anything other than the infinite emptiness there was. A few moments later he blinked and flicked his gaze between them before continuing.

"Njord? What does that even mean?"

"He was the Norse God of the forest and winter. He protected the heartlands and was renown for his cunning and bravery," the other man replied.

"What's your name?" Njord asked. This seemed to give his benefactor pause as he chewed his meat.

"Owen," the man said upon swallowing. "You ever used one of those?" he asked, pointing at the three foot blade resting on a stump where Njord's clothed had been laid out.

"I don't remember," Njord was forced to again admit. The more he said it out loud, the more worried he became.

"Well don't worry about it, it comes pretty naturally," Owen replied simply. "After all, as a species we've succeeded because of a natural affinity for tool use."

"...Right," came Njord's reply. "Why do you have it?"

"Well, see... there's a favor I need from you," Owen began. "You don't remember anything, and while I can't give you any answers about who you are or where you came from... I can give you something else. I can tell you what you are."

"What I am? What do you mean by that?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Owen replied after swallowing another bite. "Easier to show you. You'll understand soon enough."

"How are you going to show me?"

"Do these woods seem familiar? This swampland? It should, Njord. You are connected to this place, but you aren't ready to take up your role in its defense," Owen said.

"You're not making any sense," Njord admitted.

"I know," Owen replied. "That's the point. I could have just left you there to starve or wander the swamp until some gator decided you'd make a fine meal, but my charitable nature got the better of me. I'm a businessman by nature, and in any fair transaction there needs to be two sides."

"...Uh huh."

"This place is your home, Njord. There is something here that wants to poison and destroy that. I need you to take care of it."

"Come again?"

"Take the sword and follow me," Owen replied.

"Why?"

"Because if you don't, I'll take my things and leave you here. Nearest town is ten miles away, pick a direction and good luck," the dark man replied.

"You...'re kind of an asshole."

"So I've been told. Now come on," Owen demanded.

Njord knew he really had no choice but to comply, and they doused the fire before setting out into the late afternoon. The trek took them into a gorge and through a series of winding turns along a creek before the path opened into a clearing. The young Uratha found himself looking upon what had to be the most ancient tree in the forest, as its trunk was the size of a two story manor. Its branches reached high into the canopy, spreading out far above the gorge walls to stand just above the rest of the swamp's treeline.

The forest around it was healthy and vibrant, but the Great Tree itself was losing the color of its bark. Its leaves were patched with yellow and brown, signalling a warning of its disease to the outside world. Njord didn't understand why at that moment, but he felt a deep ache in his heart when he came to understand the being's plight.

"This is Dayku, the spirit of the Fox Swamp," Owen said. "Something has poisoned him, and if you listen closely, you can hear it crying for help. If the spirit Dayku dies, the swamp may very well die with it."

Njord gripped the hilt of the blade tightly in his hand, nodding slowly. Somehow he could hear the cry, though he was not sure what he was hearing. It definitely sounded like suffering, and it seemed to come from all about him. "What do I have to do? I'm not a doctor..."

"It's not a mortal sickness that infects this tree, but a poison of Shadow. You have a power inside of you, Njord, to fight the Shadow. I can do a lot of things, but this is beyond my abilities. If you have courage, I know you can save Dayku," Owen said.

"I... I don't know," Njord replied. "Spirits? Shadow? This all sounds a little... far out."

Owen smirked and a moment later vanished in a plume of black smoke streaked with veins of green and gold. It left behind a distinct smell of the grave, along with an unsettling collective cry of tortured souls. Njord had to wonder if there wasn't something deeply dark about this man.

Now alone with the great Dayku tree, Njord had nothing but his thoughts and the pleas for help from what had to be voices in his head. Dayku did not sit directly against the earth, but rather its roots formed the mouth of a cave. The place all seemed oddly familiar, but Njord swore there had always been vines hiding the entrance. He decided that there was little choice in the matter, and ventured into the darkness inside the great Dayku tree.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda couldn't help the giggle that escaped, knowing how blunt Owen could be, and nodded in response. She leaned forward on the counter, knowing she was pressing her breasts together a bit more, enticing him to look more likely, but she was intrigued by his story. Her eyebrow rose as he continued and let out a humorless laugh. "Well that takes being thrown to the wolves to a whole new level..."

"Shh," Makayla said then, just as entranced by the story as she dished out the food onto plates. She also knew how blunt and honest Owen could be, sometimes to a fault, and sometimes that made him an asshole, but it was something she appreciated about him. But him disappearing into smoke was definitely something new. She hoped Cassandra was privy to that knowledge, and vowed to ask her about it first chance she got.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord shrugged, doing his best to keep his focus on Miranda's countenance and not the impressive display of cleavage. "He saw something that needed to be fixed and knew he couldn't do it himself," he replied. "Of course, I didn't have a clue about what I was or capable of at that moment, but I knew I wasn't... entirely human."

He took a bite of his enchilada and chased it with another long swig from his beer, setting it down with a sigh of contentment. "Ahh, that's the stuff. Where was I?"

The inside of the tree was large and full of little details Njord could study for a lifetime. He noticed a thick, intricate web blocking an open area near the center of the chamber, as well as an internal structure above not unlike a small city. Njord gasped at the beauty of such natural engineering on display, and was even more surprised at how well he could see in the low light. It should have been dark enough to need a light, but to him it barely had an evening hue.

His sensitive ears picked up the scritch-scratch of something that sent a chill to his very core. Njord did not know why, but the sound made him bristle and want to seek it out and murder it. Not knowing who he was, the young man was naturally frightened by the prospect of his willingness to indulge in violence. Another scritch-scratch a moment later put one foot in front of the other for the young Uratha.

In his quest to hunt down the nature of the noise, Njord found he could quite safely walk across the thick webbing corking the drop into a lower chamber. Through the gaps he could see water, and realized it must be the tree's main source or lead to it. If something was infecting the tree, instinct told him he was likely to be there.

Scritch-Scratch...

Njord's ears pricked again, and an expression of extreme irritation once again overcame his countenance. The Uratha did another check of his surroundings, and seeing nothing tried to put his blade to the webs. Surprisingly, the non-stick substance really was stronger than steel. As thick as it was, his weapon simply bounced off of it with a not-so-subtle vibration. He growled in annoyance, trying to jump up and down upon it in frustration.

The substance had the desired effect, but not to the extent of breaking. Njord's weight was sufficient, however, to force significant give in the webbing. What he did not count on was the recoil, which was much stronger than anticipated and sent him flying into a nearby wall. He sat in a daze for a moment before he felt something heavy land beside him.

SCRITCH-SCRATCH...

The sound caused the young man to nearly jump out of his own skin, and when he looked to see the source it became a nightmare realized. A spider the size of an AFL football overpressurized and covered in hard, white carapace hissed at him and began skittering towards him. Njord's panicked scream would not make it into his telling of the tale, but true to his word he leaped back and slew the beast. The thing jumped at his throat, but the lad was quicker, skewering it through the mandibles with his blade before hurling it as far away as possible.

A wet squishy noise signaled the thing smacking into a nearby wall, and much to Njord's horror it dissolved into a dozen smaller versions of itself which all ran into hiding. The young were stomped as many dead as he could, but he was not fast enough to catch them all. As he saw the last one skitter under a rock, the Uratha gave a haughty scoff at their departure.

As he turned to again try the web with a new plan, Njord immediately came face to face with something that would have made him faint had it not meant his death. The naked upper body of a very attractive woman with pale blue skin was offset only by the nightmare fuel that was her lower body. A massive, swollen abodmen that clearly housed eggs for the smaller varieties was guarded by six spindly but obviously powerful legs covered in razor sharp spurs.

Njord gulped.


"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" was all I could remember asking.

A sudden surge of fear and adrenaline welled up within the heart of the young Uratha, and without realizing what he was doing managed to shift into Dalu. The sword was much lighter in his grasp, and he felt much more powerful than he had a moment before. Due to the low light and disorienting nature of being terrified beyond all reason he did not notice the change at first.

The Azlu queen hissed and lurched, attempting to trample the young man and bury one of her spurs in his sternum. Njord dove to the left and rolled, coming up facing his adversary with a natural ease he should not have had. He snorted in anger, his grip tightening on the hilt of his weapon as he pushed off the balls of his feet. The Uratha's muscles corded with every powerful stroke of his legs, feeling more strength and energy than he could ever remember before.

He got a firm control on his fear, using it to fuel the adrenaline rush surging through him as he rolled beneath the Queen and brought his blade around in a whistling horizontal arc to slice at her legs. The weapon sparked as it bounced off of the heavily armored carapace covering her spindly appendages, and he barely held onto it as he curled over on one knee to het her pass the rest of the way over him.

The two turned to face one another, and Njord knew there was only one way he would be able to damage this creature. Her well-endowed upper body was devoid of carapace in particular the front of her chest, abdomen, and face which retained the most human-like features and thus covered by mere tender flesh. To reach said objective in order to inflict damage, however, would be an arduous task. Her talons flashed in his face, but Njord was quicker.

He stepped inside her guard, slicing a gash across her chest before being forced to roll beneath her once more. The Azlu anticipated this maneuver, and the Uratha suddenly found himself face to face with an abominal stinger, and only by flattening himself onto his back did Njord avoid catching the attack in his chest. The sudden impact took his air, but situational awareness forced him to roll to the left as the Queen attempted to spur him with a stomp of her foot.

Njord clutched his chest as he scampered away on three legs, but before he could get more than a few feet she caught him with a hard kick directly in the ribs. The sudden impact sent the young Uratha flying into a nearby wall with enough force to break four of his ribs in stairstep fashion. A cloud of dust kicked up as he hit the ground with a silent scream.

He should have been afraid. With the Azlu approaching, Njord should have been trying to run for his life. Fear was the last thing Njord felt in that moment, however. No, what pulsed through his being could only be described as rage. Something he had never felt before began to crawl beneath his skin and boil within his blood. Flesh split, bones shifted and mended as his natural regeneration quickly took hold. Essence flooded through his being, building muscle and sinew as fur pushed up beneath skin that split away and evaporated.

A fully formed Urshul werebear almost completely lost to his own anger blasted a deafening roar at the Azlu, who suddenly began to shrink and back away from this new threat. Njord wore his second skin like it had been a part of him all his life, and without hesitation uncurled his claws and threw himself at the queen. Rage burned white hot through his veins, but this was her home and she knew it far better than he. With a shriek, she vanished into an impossible crevice in the wall just as Njord crashed into the wood.

He clawed at the surface for a moment before realizing that he did not want to harm the tree. Before he could take note of his transformation, the sound of the monster moving through the gaps in the bark reached his ears. Her scent was overpowering even from this distance, and he could hear her moving into the depths of the root system. Njord reacted on instinct, rushing over to the hole in the floor and tearing at the webbing. Unlike with the sword, his claws shredded the material like it was tissue paper and within moments he was sliding down the face of the wall towards the water below.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A shudder moved through Miranda as he mentioned the spiders, and she grimaced as she thought of them being anywhere near the Inn. Instantly the thought of what Cass would do should she see a spider as big as those rats were. Nightmare fuel was certainly a fitting description for the Azlu he described. She nodded at him to keep him going, the description of the fight with the giant spider had her riveted, and she wanted to know how he'd finished off the beast.
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Njord could not help but notice Miranda's reaction to his description of the spider-hosts, and smirked. "Oh there's worse out there than Azlu," he commented, poking at the enchilada. "The Beshilu you've met, the Triblithu are roaches, and the Halaku are crows. Each unique and terrifying in its own way. In reality the Azlu was a kind opponent for me to face. Pray you never run into a cannibal..." he trailed off, the last word causing a shudder to run through him.

He stabbed a piece he had cut away with his fork and promptly cheeked it. "Anyways..."

A loud splash signaled Njord's arrival to the first basement of the Dayku tree's root system. The water rose to his chest here, but the werebear was a natural swimmer and quickly hauled himself to an edge. As he pulled himself onto the embankment, Njord cast a scrutinizing look around the room. A large web blocked one of the passages out of the room, while another blocked entry to the next basement as well.

The scent of his quarry brought the young Uratha's attention back to the task at hand. She was nearby, but chose to remain hidden from view. It was almost like the Uratha could taste her fear, and it was that moment that he suddenly took note of his condition. Rather than freaking out at the immediate appearance of monstrous paws instead of hands, the young were rushed to the water's edge and peered over it once more. The face that greeted him was somehow a mixture of adorable and terrifying, but there was no mistaking it.

Silvery-white fur covered the handsome snout and proud ears of a massive grizzly bear. It was unclear as to how he came to retain his intelligent mind despite the change, but he was not about to argue with his newfound abilities. Had he always been this way? The answer still was not clear years later.

Scritch-scratch...

The reflection was forgotten as Njord tore through the canopy covering the archway. His vision darkened, permeated by his scent tracing a line towards his target. Njord tore his way through another webbed wall and into a circular room at the bottom of a ramp. Upon entry, a stone doorway slammed shut behind him. He spun around to see it before turning back to face the center of the room, the fur on his back prickling to stand on end like a mohawk.

Scritch-SCRATCH!

Njord's gaze drifted upward towards the sound, and his ears fell back against his head as three massive eggs attached to the ceiling suddenly burst. Their contents fell all around the young Uratha to each side, and he was soon faced with a trio of Solitary Spinners. Njord growled, his hackles becoming almost completely rigid as he drew himself up to full height. Though young, each of the three Azlu was two thirds the size of the Uratha in his current form.

The first charged, but Njord sprung into the air and sank his claws into the soft root that made up the ceiling. He snarled, belching a roar at the three of them before hurling himself into their midst like a hurricane of claws and teeth. Everything he did came on pure instinct. Each time his jaws crushed through carapace and his claws punched holes in exoskeleton it was the blood of Father Wolf that drove him to rip, shred, and kill every last one of the abominations he could find.

Without the benefit of experience, Njord's sheer ferocity was enough to take down the monsters in short order. A near blinding rage had overcome him and by the time it was done he was gnawing on a leg after having consumed nearly everything else. It was at that moment he realized what he was doing and promptly belched the leg out and backed away from it, scraping his tongue against his teeth to try and clean the taste out.

His eyes cut to a small passageway that looped back toward the main chamber, and wondered if he could make himself small enough to fit through. Njord concentrated on becoming his human self again, and as he allowed the rage to leave his body his shape changed back to its original form. Unfortunately he had hulked out of his clothing, and he silently thanked Owen for giving him extra baggy jeans. Even they had been reduced to shorts, but he was suitably covered to his liking.

"I'm going spend a fuckton at the mall," he said to himself. His sword lay forgotten more than thirty feet above as he crawled into the opening, emerging on the other side to find himself back in the main chamber of the basement. Now, however, he was looking down through more webbing that segregated the next level down.

Unlike before, there was a solid fifty foot drop below and the water was murky. Njord could not make out a clear bottom, but had the distinct feeling that whatever was killing Dayku had to be in the darkness beyond. If the Queen was going to face him, it would be in her lair with her young. Njord would need a plan...

When Njord returned to the site, he had armed himself with a multitude of natural tools drawn from the heart of Dayku itself. In his pockets were seeds he had gathered from large, hanging vines that were distributed all throughout the great tree's interior. What he had discovered about them were that upon a forceful impact they would act as a sort of natural flash bomb, minus the bang. In his other pocket were the fangs of several of the smaller spiders which he had killed and dissected. He had spent the better part of an hour grinding them against stones and sharpening them into aerodynamic throwing daggers. Where the instinct had come from he had no idea. Njord had simply done it, and as a result had an array of useful weapons to employ against the Azlu. In addition, the Uratha had fashioned a shield from a piece of thick, loose bark and vines.

The Uratha tied off the vines into a makeshift rope which he secured at the top of the pit before carefully sliding down. He found himself again in deep water at the bottom, but directly ahead was a large opening that no doubt led to the queen's lair. He trudged to the shore and carefully crept toward the entrance. It was dark enough inside that even he would have trouble seeing in his Hishu form, and the young Uratha had not yet mastered his ability to shapeshift as of yet. Slow, steady, and silent steps carried him beyond the threshold and into the room. Bioluminescent plant life gave off enough of a glow that once inside he had some ability to see without changing form. Before he could move more than a few yards past the entrance however, there was a loud series of scratching noises that reached his ears.

Njord immediately turned to look for the source of the noise behind him, and was shocked to see the way he came now blocked off with thick webbing similar to the other barriers he'd had to breach. As he turned back to face the center of the room, a pair of glowing yellow eyes suspended from the ceiling met his gaze. The Uratha froze, watching in utter horror as dozens of the smaller Azlu drew toward the eyes and were consumed. They belonged to the queen, and as they crawled over her flesh she seemed to absorb them into her physical body. A transformation overcame her, turning her into a full, massive, monstrous arachnid covered completely in plated carapace. Her eyes bored into his very soul as she pierced the air with a guttural, screeching roar. He was in deep trouble.

She let go of her perch on the ceiling and dropped to the ground with such force that it shook the ground and almost knocked Njord to the floor. He scrambled to his feet as the quaking stopped, barely avoiding her charge as she barreled at him at high speed. Njord dove to the left, rolling and coming up on his feet facing the creature. His sword glinted in the low light, and he put his shield between himself and the queen as they circled one another. Where her other children might be, he wasn't sure, but the Irakka made a point to remain situationally aware in case they turned up. When she came at him a second time, Njord was ready. He quickly drew a Dayku seed and hurled it at the ground between them, averting his eyes the moment it burst open and filled the room with a bright, blinding light. The Azlu queen screeched and stumbled, allowing Njord the opportunity to leap atop her back and drive his blade into her carapace.

The room burst into chaos as his weapon sank into the soft flesh between her plates, and she immediately went into a scramble to try and get him off. Njord leaped off, landing harder than he meant to and sending pain shooting through his knees from the impact. As she recovered he was already on the move, charging back in and taking a swing at one of her mandibles. Surprisingly, the blade sliced clean through the appendage and effectively deprived her of one of her primary weapons. Blood spray filled the air as she roared in pain and anguish, and the queen lashed out at him in reprisal. Njord was just a hair too slow and caught another kick to the chest that send him flying through the air. He landed hard on his shoulder and rolled to a stop several feet away with a groan. When he looked up again, she was on the ceiling and moving toward the center of the room. What her plan was he had no idea, but the Uratha was not about to let her lay eggs if that was her intention.

He put the sword and shield away on a sling he had constructed to let them hang against his back and reached for the fangs he had fashioned earlier. With skill that could only have been honed during a time of his life he couldn't remember Njord hurled one after another directly at her glowing yellow eyes. The Azlu queen was forced to react, and deflected the first few before the fourth pierced one, obliterating the light it produced and causing her to lose her grip on the roof. She crashed to the ground with another mighty quake of the earth, but this time Njord was ready. He charged in again, slashing and stabbing at what vital areas he could reach with the anger of his ancestors. Njord was forced to dive away once more as she scrambled back to her feet and attempted to trample him. One of her razor-sharp spurs threatened to pierce his heart, and only the Dayku-bark shield kept him from getting a free appendectomy.

Unfortunately, the bark of the great tree was not designed to stand up to such punishment and promptly split in two. Njord brought his sword around to defend against her follow-up swipe intent on giving him the cavity for a third eye, the resulting force of which knocked it from his hands and sent it spiraling off into the darkness. The queen remained relentless in her attack, seeing her now unarmed opponent in a noticeably vulnerable state. Njord hurled a handful of seeds in her direction in a blind panic, but they did not even begin to slow her this time. The queen bowled him over, putting one of her spurs through his left leg as he rolled along the floor and causing him to cry out in pure agony. Poison began to crawl through his femoral artery toward his heart, and in that moment he knew there was only one thing that could possibly save him.

Njord reached inward for his rage, and despite his physical condition found it easily and readily accessible. This time, however, his anger and fear far outstripped his ability to control it. Once more flesh split and gave way to fur as muscle, bone, and sinew expanded to fill out his new form. The Uratha's wounds closed as he shifted into Garu, an earth-shattering bellow accompanied the end of his shapeshift. If the queen had cowered in fear before, now it was clear she felt true terror. Unfortunately for her, she never had the chance to run. Before she could even attempt to escape the Uratha was atop her, tearing into her like an orphan unwrapping the first Christmas present from his new family. Shrieks of agony were all he would remember after that. Njord became so lost in his bloodlust and rage that all further waking memory from that fight was lost. The only thing he knew was waking up hours later surrounded by arachnid gore and Owen seated nearby whittling away at a small piece of wood.


"And... that's pretty much it," Njord said. "That's my first memory."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda's jaw dropped and lifted through the rest of his story, then dropped her fork as he finished. "And Owen? Tell me you kicked his ass for doing that to you..." There had to be more to the story, and Miranda was determined to hear more about when Njord and Owen had actually become friends. "Shit, if one of the coven threw me to the wolves like that and left me to fend for myself like he did you, there'd be an ass whupin' in their future."

Makayla snorted and shook her head. "Good luck trying that on me."

Miranda glared over at the Latina and shook her head back at her. "Just because you were trained by Dan does not mean you could truly kick my ass. I'm just as scrappy as you are."

"Sure..." Makayla said, popping another bite of her cooking into her mouth.

Miranda rolled her eyes at the Latina's sarcastic tone, and looked back to Njord. "What then? So, Owen was just sitting there waiting for you to come out of your bloodlust coma?" She couldn't help wondering when this all happened, what Cass and Melinda were doing while Owen was throwing a freshly turned Uratha into a spider nest, and how Njord connected with him finding Rachael.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord shrugged. "It was what needed to be done at the time," he replied matter-of-factly. "I got some answers when I woke up, but not many. Those first few days were a little... fuzzy. But Owen brought me to old Reverend Tacky Jack, an old Bloodrage that lived like a hermit out in the Fox Swamp. He's where I learned about... what I am."

He finished the last bite of his enchilada, having been eating it throughout the telling of the story. After setting the fork down, the Bloodrage drained the rest of his beer and sighed as he relaxed into the chair. Njord looked over at the Latina with a nod.

"Damn fine cooking. You should think about opening a restaurant here," he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda settled back in her chair, taking comfort in the fact that Njord obviously let things run off his back when it came to his friend, and perhaps she should give Owen a break. He'd been through too much to bring Rachael back, making friends along the way could have proven helpful to getting her home. To getting the both of them home where they belonged.

Makayla smiled and shrugged lightly. "Not that big of a deal. I cook here at the Inn, we'll host dinners for our guests, and sometimes open it up to the public. I have complete control of this kitchen. And it's small, it's what I prefer."

Miranda smiled over at her friend and then back to Njord before she started in on her questions again. "So when did you meet up with Owen again? Just recently?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord gave the Latina a nod and grin before returning his attention to Miranda. The pretty brunette was asking a lot of questions about his friend, and he had to wonder if she wasn't more interested in him. Then again, she had gone to school with Owen, known him during a different period in his life, and Njord was a witness to some of that history. He could understand her curiosity in that regard, but wondered how much he should share about his friend.

"Yeah, but I ran into him in Krystalnaacht around the same time I joined my first pack. I worked with him off and on while he was tracking down supernatural trafficking rings being operated within the city, as well as a few longer excursions. I've seen him lead a cabal of mages into battle, stand alongside a pack of Bloodrage against the pure, and stare down Fallen angels without blinking."

Njord paused for a moment and shook his head. "He's a damn renaissance man when it comes to tactics, combat, and strategy. What do you want to know?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blush moved across Miranda's cheeks and she sheepishly looked away from him. "Sorry. It's just that the Owen we all knew was... well he was different than this Owen, the Owen you know. Were you with him when he found out where Rachael was?" The witch was certainly impressed with everything Njord had mentioned about what Owen was capable of, and couldn't help feeling a sense of pride for her friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord offered the woman across from him a reassuring smile, interlacing his fingers over his stomach as he continued to relax in the chair. "If that's the case, I'm just as curious about the Owen you knew... because he's always been the same predictable yet unpredictable arrogant genius since I've known him. He never really talked about home much... but Rachael... He disappeared before I could finish helping him find her. The next time I saw him was in the Sunset Woods after he'd brought her home. I feel like... some really bad stuff happened between then and now, but he's not telling anyone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Owen was..." Miranda trailed off as she thought about the high school cassanova that had caught Cassandra's eye since Junior High. A little laugh escaped and she licked her lips as she thought of him. "He always had the soft spot in Cass' heart. But he was a Cassanova for sure. He could've had any girl he wanted, and I'll admit, there was a bit of a rivalry between us," she gestured to herself and Makayla as she spoke. "Over who would end up winning his true affections. But it was Cass, I think we both knew it was always going to be her. Cass has this... aura that just calms... everything. Owen was star quarterback, and word had it that colleges were lining up for him already and he was barely into his Junior year of high school when Rachael disappeared. He's always been all about his family, no matter what."

"It did, but didn't surprise the ones that really knew him when he took off after her," Makayla said then, scraping the last bit of rice onto her fork "We were heart broken that he wouldn't seek out help from any of us, but..." she shrugged lightly and hummed softly. "We knew he was stubborn, pig headed, and would tell us that he was best suited to find her. Even though I looked for him. Missed a month of school, and got into some serious trouble for him and Cass. I wanted to drag his ass back home, or find something to give Cass. Neither happened."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord's eyebrows went up when Miranda started in on Owen's local history. He wasn't surprised to find out his friend had been the star quarterback, or popular or any of those things. Owen had always been a leader, someone who attracted other people to him, whether he wanted to or not.

Truthfully, the only women he had ever seen his friend with were Erana and Cass, and he wasn't sure bringing up the former would be a great idea. Upon hearing how much of a Casanova his friend was, which was especially true given the beauty of the women who were openly admitting to wanting to be on his arm, Njord was doubly forced to bite his tongue. Makayla's addition was nothing the Uratha wasn't already aware of, having seen his friend's stubborn hard-headed nature firsthand. Still, he was a little shocked to hear the Latina had gone after him.

"He has a whole lot of people in this town who love him, and doesn't even know it," came Njord's reply. "I can tell y'all were like family around here, to him too. I'd give anything to have that... I don't know if I even have any family. Rev mentioned something about them all being wiped out, but didn't know much more than that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda smiled over the table at Njord and gave her head a tiny shake. "When you grow up with magical families, you tend to stick near the ones that understand you more. We are a huge family here, even if it's not blood. Who knows, you stick around long enough, and we might just adopt you." She gave a wink, which seemed to amuse the Latina.

Makayla laughed and moved toward the baking dish, grabbing it and taking it to the island to put away the left overs. "Owen is the hometown hero, at least to us, and Njord, whether you know it or not, you got rid of... what did you call them? Beshilu? You're already well on your way to being adopted into the family."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Njord nodded at Makayla's words, which only made him feel a deep envy for the woman and his best friend. The only family he'd ever had was Owen and Angelus's pack, the latter of which he was no longer a part of. Being an Alpha in his heart, Njord could get along with Angelus and his friends, but he never again wanted to be a member of that pack.

"I just killed a few rats, that's all," he replied bashfully. "And I figure if Owen considers the people here his family, if I can help I will."

His gaze flicked up to meet Miranda's. He'd made a point to only look he in the face since getting an eyeful earlier that evening, though he couldn't help some of the thoughts that flashed through his head even as he avoided looking. She was stunning, really, and tiny, which the Bloodrage found he liked quite a lot, especially given her generous proportions.

"I'm sure townies don't find the tourist spots to be very fun around here, so where does someone like you go that they don't know about when you're looking to enjoy yourself? I've been either working, cooped up in the house, or exploring the woods around town, but enough is enough."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Three Days Later ~

[Background Music: Monster Hunter 4 - Sunken Hollow Battle]

Owen's eyes widened as the Nematoggi suddenly burst through the underbrush. It was easily the size of a military armored humvee, and probably with an even thicker hide. Its form resembled that of a toad or bullfrog, but in a much more aggressive sense. If the toad were the apex predator of its domain, and this monstrosity looked intimidating enough to make a Bloodrage think twice. Its vulnerable eyes and frankly entire head was protected by an impressive pair of lethally sharp tusks each easily a fifth the size of its body.

The inside of its mouth was beset with long singular rows of thick molars and front incisors Owen knew he wanted no part of. He took two steps and flung himself as hard as he could in a desperate attempt to dodge. He was all in against being gored by a giant prehistoric frog-boar, and his gamble paid off as it thundered passed. Owen landed completely prostrate though, and as a result had the wind knocked out of him as he caught the brunt of the landing right in the sternum.

The mage was still savvy enough to roll behind a thick rock before the thing could turn around and spot him. He forced himself to suck in a gasp after several moments of feeling like his chest had caved in, just in time to hear and feel the beast's roar shake the earth. The sound upset Owen's insides so much in that particular moment that he was forced to cover his ears. As soon as the universe stopped puking horrid vibrations in his direction, Owen felt the ground shake for a different reason.

He was forced to scramble out from behind the boulder just seconds before it was blasted into powder and chunks all around him. Before the dust had even formed into much of a cloud, the Nematoggi was looking back and forth for the mage. Owen couldn't believe how darned persistent the thing was at trying to eat him, or play with him to death. The monster seemed to run out of breath for a moment as it let out a series of pants with it's massive tongue lolling out from around its tusk.

Owen seized the opportunity before him and took off at a dead run toward the beast. He leaped into the air, a massive greatsword materializing in his grasp in mid-flight. He brought it around in a mighty swing that crashed heavily against one of the monster's mighty tusks. The force of the impact staggered the beast, but the rock-like ivory endured the blow remarkably well.

The Necromage used the momentum to spin, bringing the buster sword around in a horizontal arc that sliced at the thick scaly hide of its shoulder before again impacting the tusks. He took one more step forward, letting the blade's weight carry him into a final spin that came down in a mighty overhead smash directly against the Nematoggi's skull. Despite his efforts, the damage barely even registered on the creature's flesh. Its hide was scored and its tusk scratched, but little more.

Repeated heavy blows from a seventy pound summoned arcane weapon, however, had knocked it to the ground on its side, presenting the mage with an opportunity. Owen ran up the thing's leg and hopped onto its back just below its shoulders, the greatsword vanishing in a cloud of black smoke. As he mounted the beast, Owen drew out his hunting knife, drawing back the forearm-length kukri blade before plunging it into the creature's hide with all of his strength.

The weapon had been magically honed to an edge such that Owen couldn't get his fingers near it without fear of losing them, and it passed through the beast's scaly hide much better than the greatsword had. Again and again he stabbed a deep wound into the monster's back, weakening it with Death magic with every blow. It quickly rose to its feet with a roar of pain and began to thrash about, forcing Owen to bury the weapon to the hilt in its flesh and hold on for dear life. The mage gripped it in both hands and squeezed his thighs as hard as he could when the Nematoggi began to throw itself around with reckless abandon. It slammed its side into trees, rocks, and bucked its hips like a raging bull.

After a ride that would have set world records at the rodeo, the creature exhausted itself again. Owen did not relent, and immediately resumed his assault on the monster's back with the blade. The Nematoggi's legs gave out a moment later, and as it crashed to the ground to roll onto its back Owen was forced to sheathe his dagger and leap away to avoid getting crushed. He landed harder on his shoulder than he wanted to and rolled to come up facing the animal on one knee.

Owen wasted no time, leaping up and rushing forward again, this time as a greathammer appeared in his grasp. It was seemingly too large for him to wield, but his strength was far superior to what it had been when he left town. The weapon had a claw behind the head to counterbalance it, and was completely black inlaid with simple yet ornate patterns that glowed with an inner violet light.

He brought the hammer around in a diagonal downward swing, bringing it crashing against the tusk he had struck before with the greatsword. It again endured the hit, and even the next one before the creature finally caught a second wind and scrambled to its feet. Owen took a few steps back, the hammer dragging behind him as he put distance between himself and the monster.

The Nematoggi's flesh seemed to ripple as it changed color from a deep blue to a blazing sunfire red. It roared in fury and spun to face the Necromage. Owen swallowed hard, and took an outfielder's stance as he stared down the beast. It was clearly enraged, and given its nature as a monster of the Primal Wild it had power of its own that it could tap into.

Owen was not helpless, but he also had a healthy respect for what he was currently facing. He doubted he had dug in deep enough to do significant damage, but he had definitely hurt the creature. Now, however, it was incredibly dangerous, and immediately proved that by leaping directly at him with no fear and blind fury. For the second time Owen was forced to lay out to dodge the incoming attack, but managed to roll along his back as he landed and come up with some momentum.

He ran across the monster's face, which was nearly a fatal mistake. The Nematoggi lunged forward, its tusks ripping through the air with lightning speed towards Owen. Mercifully, he had made sure to cast a Life spell as part of his morning ritual to harden his skin in addition to the enchanted clothing he wore as armor. The strike caught him hard in the legs, sent him flying through the air and into a rock with enough force to dislocate three of his ribs.

Owen judged the distance to be about thirty feet before he forgot everything else trying to remember how to breathe in air again. It only took a moment, and cradling his ribcage Owen was forced to again dive out of the way as the thing attempted to gore him again. Instead it headbutted the boulder it had just hurled the mage into, which put a big crack from the middle of it that spiderwebbed out to cover a large portion of the face.

The Nematoggi was somehow not dazed in the slightest by this, but it had given Owen enough time to get around behind it once more. He panted and produced a hunting rifle from within his duster, which looked suspiciously like a custom creation from Random Headshot. He squeezed the trigger multiple times, sending a projectile that ripped through the beast's hide and punched a hole in its flank. Blood spurted into the air from the impact of several more shots as Owen repeatedly cocked and fired the Winchester-style rifle.

His opening shut as quickly as it had opened as the creature spun to face him and jumped high into the air. The mage's eyes widened as he tracked the creature's path with his gaze and realized it aimed to land directly atop him. Owen was again forced to dive in avoidance of being crushed, and rolled out of the edge of the shadow that had formed directly over him. A split second after clearing the danger zone, the earth shook from the Nematoggi's landing.

Dust flew up into a massive cloud, obscuring everything around the enraged beast. Owen came up on his knee firing from the hip. His hand cocked the lever-action with impressive speed as he poured rounds from the enchanted weapon into the creature, fighting for his survival more than anything at this point. He couldn't see what he was shooting at through the fog, and didn't notice the creature's tail swinging around until it was too late.

The short, club-like extension of its spine was covered in white-gray scales, and was hard as concrete. It caught Owen directly in the side of the head with enough force to knock him off his feet and into a nearby sapling. Stars danced before Owen's eyes, and his skull exploded with pain radiating across the entire side of his face and neck. The rifle lay on the ground, and was almost immediately crushed by the monster's foot. It sparked with a burst of magical energy being released before it fizzled and died, and Owen writhed in pain on the ground as he slid down from against the small tree.

Slowly, but with clear intent, the Nematoggi approached. The mage groaned and rolled to his knees, trying to push himself to his feet. Before he could, however, a tusk caught him beneath the leg and he was tossed into the air like a toy by the powerful monster. Owen flew about twenty feet into the air before crashing hard down to the earth a short distance away in the clearing. The shockwave that went through his body upon impact sapped the last of his strength, yet somehow he managed to drag himself to his feet as the Nematoggi stalked towards him, its rage fading as it depleted its energy reserves.

Owen couldn't run. He couldn't dodge or get out of the way if it charged, and the monster knew it. He was hurt, not lethally, but to the point he would need a few days' rest in order to function properly again. One thing the mage was certain of, was that he would make it home no matter what. He thought about Cass, which then shifted to thoughts of his daughter, and he set his jaw. He hated the idea of what he had to do, but felt as though it was his only chance of survival at that point.

The Nematoggi bore down on him, opening its gaping maw to consume him. Before it could, however, Owen primed a grenade and hurled it down the creature's throat as hard as he could before letting a portal open beneath his feet with the exit a short but safe distance away. The grenade went directly down its gullet just before its jaws snapped shut in the space the mage had just occupied. Owen dropped to his knees as he emerged from the exit a moment later, watching with a bittersweet feeling of victory as he heard the explosive detonate inside the monster's body, which caused it to almost immediately fall dead upon the ground.

~ The next afternoon ~

Owen had tagged and carved the dead monster, the former as was required by the Consilium and the latter for his own personal uses. The meat had been ruined, but its tusks, claws, hide, and skull would all be useful in the making of armor, weapons, and tools. He stored all of that away before he returned home, walking through the front door of Cassandra's house just as the sun began its descent from its highest point. The mage had healed the significant breaks that had occurred from his combat with the beast, but retained the concussion beneath the cracked skull in addition to the remaining pain from the dislocated ribs and myriad other bumps and bruises.

He ached all over, but he had brought home a cool five grand for the tag he'd filled in addition to his regular pay. Owen's gaze searched for Cass as the door shut behind him, hoping she would be pleased with the fruits his hunting trip had bore. "Cass? You here?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra didn't want to let Owen leave the house, not so soon after what had transpired between them. She was breaking through the barriers, and she worried that him being on his own again would slam them back up around him again.

She focused on Melinda over the days that he was gone, but as she settled into bed on the second night, she set her Sight out to check up on Owen, and didn't brace herself for the onslaught of flashes she would get.

It only took a moment, and cradling his ribcage Owen was forced to again dive out of the way as the thing attempted to gore him again. Instead it headbutted the boulder it had just hurled the mage into, which put a big crack from the middle of it that spiderwebbed out to cover a large portion of the face...

... Owen came up on his knee firing from the hip. His hand cocked the lever-action with impressive speed as he poured rounds from the enchanted weapon into the creature, fighting for his survival more than anything at this point...

... The short, club-like extension of its spine was covered in white-gray scales, and was hard as concrete. It caught Owen directly in the side of the head with enough force to knock him off his feet and into a nearby sapling...

... The Nematoggi bore down on him, opening its gaping maw to consume him. Before it could, however, Owen primed a grenade and hurled it down the creature's throat as hard as he could...


Cassandra shot up in bed, screaming Owen's name, gripping hold of the blankets around her as if they were the only things grounding her in reality. A second later, Melinda appeared in the doorway, fear etched onto her face. Cassandra shook her head at the girl and gave a soft smile through her own fear.

"A nightmare, that's all."

Melinda frowned and climbed up onto the bed with her mother, and Cassandra brought the girl tight against her. "I miss him."

"He'll be home," Cassandra reassured her daughter, even though she knew Melinda could feel her fear.


The day Owen returned, it was Melinda, who had been brought out of school early for a dentist appointment to raced for him first. "DADDY!" she yelled out and threw her arms around Owen's waist.

Cassandra's footsteps sounded on the stairs a moment later, and relief flooded through her as she saw him standing in front of her, and approached him more gingerly than their daughter did, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Thank God you're alright."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen's eyes widened upon seeing Melinda bearing down on him like a defensive end from his high school football days, but was fortunately able to brace so that her collision didn't bring him to his knees. Still, he grunted a little on impact, but put his arms around the girl and returned the hug she gave. A moment later, Cassandra appeared in the stairway, and a look of guilty relief came over Owen's countenance.

He was thankful for how gentle Cass was as she slipped her arms around him, rewarding her with a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'll be fine, as always," he replied with a soft smile, though he instantly knew she'd seen at least some of his encounter with the brute wyvern. "Everything okay here?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled softly at him and leaned her forehead against his, taking in his presence. He was home and he was in one piece. After her visions, she had ever reason to worry that he wouldn't be, and she was thankful for it.

"Everything's great!" Melinda answered for her mother who simply nodded to agree with the girl. "I went to the dentist today dad, mom says I have a supertooth, see?" She opened her mouth to show the crown that had been placed over a molar and grinned. "Momma had a nightmare the other night, but it's okay, dad, 'cause you know what? I kept her company in bed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Page 22
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen nodded, narrowing his eyes as he examined the tooth in question before giving her a nod of approval. "That looks like a certified supertooth to me. Just be sure not to eat any kryptonite biscuits," he said with a chuckle. "I'm glad you were here to keep your mother company. I don't suppose there's any coffee or leftover breakfast around is there?" he asked, giving his beloved a hopeful look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melinda giggled and let go of him. "Momma and I made waffles for breakfast. We can reheat the couple we had left over!"

Cassandra smiled and hugged Owen again, and pulled playfully on his jacket meaning for him to take it off. "I have some bacon left over too, just the way we both like it." She watched as Melinda took off into the kitchen, and heard a plate hitting the counter, the girl more than eager to get her daddy something to eat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One side of Owen's jaw clenched as Melinda shouted, but it would have been almost imperceptible unless someone was looking. The sound of the plate hitting the counter after she'd made it into the kitchen added to it, and Owen felt a sudden wave of nausea hit him. He offered Cass an apologetic smile.

"On second thought, I'm not as hungry as I thought," he admitted. "I think I need to lie down... living room might be okay. Think she'll believe I'm just tired from my trip?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled softly and gently trailed her fingers over the side of his face. "Headache? That thing's tail smacking into your head still lingering?" she asked, letting him know without a doubt that she had seen some of what he'd been through, and she'd certainly seen the creature he was up against.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It was like being clubbed with a fence post with the end still concreted," Owen replied quietly. "I'm lucky I didn't crack a molar... my protective spells were the only think that kept it from crushing my skull like a Grecian urn."

He offered her an apologetic look, but did not take his arms from around her. Rather, he pulled her more tightly against him and kissed the top of her hair. He swayed just a little, but regained his balance just as quickly as his stomach made him glad he'd skipped eating that day. "I just need to rest a little, darlin. Has Caleb said anything about the guys and the bleachers?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra arched an eyebrow up at him as he described what getting hit with the creature's tail felt like. She didn't like hearing that, and bit her tongue against asking him to go to the hospital, yet again. "Should I get some asprin for you? Maybe getting a little bit to eat would help the asprin settle and take effect easier."

"Caleb? He's waiting on you, but has contacted those that were on the team that is still around the area... I guess a lot of them have moved away..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen, thankfully, had left something at Cassandra's house that was a lot more effective than asprin. He awaited the judgement in her gaze as he formed his next question. "Do you think you could break one of those morphine pills in half for me? I'll eat the bacon, but if our daughter tries to serve me leftover waffles I think I might yak..."

He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, rocking back and forth where they stood before he placed a soft, tender kiss upon her lips. "I'm sorry I can't give you the welcome back you deserve. I don't normally get into tussles with anything big enough to swallow me whole, though I suppose I scratched that rule when I took the job." He pulled back a little, his eyes downcast as a look of deep remorse came over his countenance. "The worst part is... I had to waste the meat. I killed it with a grenade down its throat... it deserved better. I was able to salvage the hide and things like that, but I was raised not to waste anything from a kill if possible."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra nodded, and pressed her lips to his a moment. "Don't you worry about giving me a welcome back. I should be giving you the welcome back, shouldn't I?" She turned a little, and guided him to the sectional couch and called out to their daughter. "Just bacon for daddy, honey,"

"Okay momma! I'll have the waffle then," she called back much to Cassandra's amusement.

"I don't know if I'd be able to eat meant that came from that... thing..." she said a little hesitantly, and helped him to sit down on the couch. "I'll get you the pill." she whispered and rushed up the stairs, seeing her daughter grabbing the foil package of bacon as she did.

When she was upstairs, she found the morphine pills and grabbed an athamae from the window seat in the small reading nook in her bedroom and cut it in half, before returning downstairs to see Melinda on the couch, munching on a waffle. "Something to drink, honey?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Cass went to get the pill, Owen moved into the kitchen and started up the stove to cook the bacon Melinda had brought out. He had remembered to thank the girl as she'd passed, and couldn't help but smile a little at how she seemed to just glom onto him right away. For someone as selective about who he allowed within his physical space as Owen was, it was surprisingly refreshing.

The bacon crackled and popped a little, but it was almost finished by the time Cass returned due to his mild magical influence. He pulled the pan off the stove and deposited the cooked meat onto a plate as she entered the room, turning off the burner as she voiced her question.

"Did you say we had coffee? If not... I could probably hold down sweet iced tea," he replied. "And I didn't say the meat would be for you. Lord no, that stuff is from a different plane of existence. Even if it tasted like chicken, there's no telling what kind of effects it might have."

He accepted the pill from her and downed it without waiting for the drink. Setting the frying pan on one of the unused burners as he leaned against the counter to rest for a moment. Owen looked between Cass and the food he'd just finished preparing, picking up a strip and taking a bite with a satisfying crunch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There's always coffee," Cassandra responded with a smile, and moved to the coffee maker, pulling out the half full pot and a mug. She filled it for him and handed it out to him, watching him down the pill without anything to drink. She held onto the mug as he bit into the bacon and a contented smile spread on her lips. She'd waited so long for this, to have him in her home, to be a family with him and Melinda, and it was right there in front of her. "I'm so happy you're here, Owen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen accepted the coffee gratefully, draining a third of the piping hot liquid in only a couple of gulps. He breathed out a sigh as he set the mug on the counter beside him and continued to munch on the bacon. It was clear he was letting his full weight settle against the counter, and despite the look of pure joy and contentment on his countenance it was clear Owen was exhausted. When Cassandra spoke, however, Owen's gaze flicked to hers and he couldn't suppress the smile that formed even if he wanted to.

"It means the world to me to hear you say that," he admitted. "I never thought... I figured you'd be... I just couldn't imagine that this would ever be an opportunity for me... I hope I get to look at your faces for the rest of my days, regardless of how few or numerous they might be."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassandra smiled and nodded as he spoke. "You thought I'd have forgotten about you, didn't you?" she shook her head and moved over to him, pinching his shirt between her fingers to poke him playfully in the stomach. "Never. I never forgot about you, honey. And your days had better be numerous. Though if that creature is the likes of which you'll be going against out there, your days may be numbered. Isn't there someone that could go with you? Someone to have your back?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen shook his head, setting down the coffee mug after another sip and grabbing another strip of bacon. "I'm not going out there looking for a tussle," he replied. "I didn't even want to get involved with the Nematoggi, but it didn't give me any other choice. I know you worry, but try to remember that like anything this is going to take some time to get used to. I can handle myself out there, but I'm not dumb enough to ask you not to worry.

"If you can't get it to settle in your mind, maybe you could come with me sometime? I would love to have you along, though it would be more observational... since I work alone. I have to be able to handle it on my own, because the other hunters do aside from rare occasions where the guild needs to send a small group out to handle something more dangerous. Even then they won't dispatch more than four at a time."
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Jordan
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[ *  *  * ]
Cassandra flashed a smirk toward Owen as he mentioned not being dumb enough to ask her not to worry. He knew her well, worrying was what she always did. But then she lit up as he mentioned her joining him. "I'm pretty formidable. You might be surprised when it comes to me in battle."

She held her hands up and smiled up at him. "I'm not going to interfere if you've got a situation handled. But it would help settle my mind if you had some back up against something like that"
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Daniel
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Owen smiled apologetically, reaching out to place a hand over hers. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, finishing off the last of the bacon. "You didn't get to be coven leader because of your good looks. I still say you could have done with more physical combat training back in the day, but being able to electrocute people like Emperor Palpatine means you don't generally have to worry about that.

"The next time you can line up a few days off from the Inn, let me know and I'll bring you out there with me. I wouldn't mind the company at all. What I need right now though... is to work on some actual, physical armor for the next time I run into something like that. First though... I think I need to sleep off this concussion."
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Jordan
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Cassandra smiled and glanced over at Owen. "I know you didn't mean it like that," she giggled at his Emperor Palpatine comment and shook her head. "I think the Inn can manage a few days without me the next time you go out."

So, she was eager to get to spend more time with him, and who could blame her? she wrapped her arms around him and smiled up at him as she hugged Owen tightly. "Upstairs with you then, no concussions allowed here..." she winked and moved her hands over his back soothingly.
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