WHEN HELENE HAD BEEN younger, she had had this recurring dream. Every time she was in front of a burning house and every single time she walked straight in the flames, feeling them scorch her skin off but not stopping until she was burned to ash. That day, after her conversation with Dante, it came back to her again, like an old friend who she had lost contact with, both nostalgic and uncomfortable at the same time. His words rang in her head, about how he didn't want anything to happen to her, such certainty in his eyes when he had said it, like he was sure something would.

To be honest, she didn't blame him. With the way she had been acting around him he probably thought she was going to be behind her own doom. He was probably right. She didn't care much for death though, the word never having provoked much emotion in her. More than anything, death sounded like a refuge, like a sleep which finally wouldn't be disturbed by her thoughts.

When she arrived at the prison, Dante was waiting politely outside the door of her office, waving at her.

"Parker is waiting," he said," they took him to the interrogation room the same time as usual."

"Perfect," she said, placing her bag down before they headed over. "How is your hand?"

"Fine," Dante shrugged," it doesn't hurt."

"Keep the wound sterile," she said," it'll hurt when it gets infected."

"I'll try," he said," how are you? Did that guy bother you again yesterday?"

"No," she reassured him," it's fine."

Honestly, it was. Knowing Zion, he would need a couple of days to process the way she had shown her emotions, because anything related to violence was ugly for him. Afterwards he would have found a way to make it beautiful in his art again, so she expected him to show up soon enough with a painting which resembled a mirror. She wasn't sure though if she wanted to see herself in it just yet.

When they reached the interrogation room she stopped, placing her hand on the door before Dante could enter.

"You can wait outside, Dante," she said.

"What?" he frowned," I thought we discussed that we were going to be more friendly with each other."

"We did," she said," I'm not ordering you to stay outside, I'm offering the choice. Nathan will do anything to get under your skin, so I won't mind if you said you'd rather wait out here, so he won't peel back your unhealed wounds again."

His expression softened at her words, an unfamiliar sight on him.

"There's no need," he said," if I can't even be your bodyguard right, I'm of no use here at all."

"You don't need to be," she said," we're friends now, aren't we? You can put yourself first, Dante, it's healthy to do so."

"And what about you?" he asked," when will you put yourself first?"

She smiled, opening the door.

"When it will be useful to my job."

Arguing with Dante was of no use, so she took her seat, leaving the door open so he had the choice to leave, if he wanted to. He didn't. Instead he closed it and took his usual spot in the corner of the room, even though he had difficulty composing himself at the sight of Nathan. Helene always had wondered what it would be like to be a honest person, to be able to show your thoughts on your face and say what you feel. Perhaps, in another life, she would've been the same and her heart would have been much lighter for it.

Unfortunately in this one she swallowed all her truths, until one day it would make her so sick to her stomach that she'd never want to speak again.

"Helene," Nathan smiled warmly," I've missed you."

"I'm glad you're not tired of my company yet," she said, mirroring his expression.

"Of you?" he said, leaning forward," never. You're more interesting than any one of these boring people here. I - What happened to your hands?"

His tone had shifted so suddenly that she blinked in surprise, all amusement gone as he reached out to her, chains clinking hard against the table. Still, even though she wasn't close enough for him to touch, he kept his hand as far as he could get, like it would be enough to be near her. She remembered how her hand had tingled with with electricity when they had touched briefly before, like all the nerve endings in her body were put on high alert by his presence alone. Absentmindedly she clenched her hands, pulling them back to her side.

"I'm just clumsy," she said," I broke a cup."

"The same cup your bodyguard broke as well?" Nathan said, gaze flicking to Dante's bandage before it settled on her again.

"He helped me clean up," she said," it seems we both are clumsy."

"Only one of you is allowed to be," he said, voice almost warm as he looked at her, before glancing back at Dante," what use is a bodyguard who can't even protect you?"

"Who do you think I'm protecting her from?" Dante snapped.

"It's just a cut," Helene said, before the situation could escalate," thank you for your concern, Nathan, but I'm fine."

"Concern?" he blinked.

"I apologize if I interpreted it wrong," she said," I thought that's why you asked."

For a brief second he seemed surprised as he looked at her, like the thought of him experiencing real feelings was an absurd one he'd thought would never get mentioned. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared though, his smile back on his face.

"No, you're correct," he said," it's hard for me not to be worried about my psychiatrist, after all. I'm glad I didn't give up waiting for a fun one."

"You think I'm fun?" she said," why?"

"Because life is a game," he said," and the only people who emerge victorious are those who know how to play. You do, it's clear in everything you say." His eyes flicked to her shoulder, as if he saw her scars right through the material of her blouse. "You carry that proof with you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said," a high one, coming from you."

"You flatter me," he said.

"Enough for you to answer my questions today?" she asked innocently.

His lips tugged up in a smile, one which was more sincere than what he usually showed her, but still shrouded in as much mystery as always. He had learned to play the game as well, even in chains more well-versed at it than her. She knew the rules by heart, but her past always had had a way of catching up to her, time and time again. To Nathan none of his childhood abuse seemed to matter, though that in itself could be another lie. It was time for her to find out.

"Perhaps," he said," what did you have in mind?"

"Let's play a game then," she said," two truths and one lie."

"I like to play games with higher stakes than that," he said, eyes wandering over her," but for you, I'll comply this once. What do I win?"

"You're assuming you're going to win?" she said.

He grinned at her, canines gleaming sharply in the fluorescent prison light.

"I always win."

"I'll start," she said.

"You know I love tragedy, Helene," Nathan said, interrupting her before she could go on," so I don't want to hear your favorite color in this game. Each secret should be devastating, whether it's true or not."

"What if I don't have three devastating things to tell?"

"Of course you do," he said," otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here every day, exchanging nothing but empty words in front of men with empty minds."

He glanced over at Dante, smirk widening. "I have got to say, I'm surprised you've dared to return here. I thought you'd kill me the next time you saw me, when did you become so tame?"

Helene could see Dante was barely holding himself back, hands clenching into fists as he kept his gaze trained in front of him. Whatever little restraint he had suddenly got, she was proud of him for using it. Still, with the way Nathan was specifically targeting Dante more and more these sessions, she had to think of a way to convince him to stay out of the room. Being her bodyguard had put an even bigger bullseye on him for Nathan than he already had had as the son of a high-ranking FBI agent, so she had to protect him.

It was easy to think of ways to keep him out, but unfortunately none of those options involved him liking her at the end. She'd brainstorm more. There was no way she was ruining her first friendship. For now, she had to get Nathan's attention back on her. Before she could say anything though, he spoke already, an almost sharp edge to his voice.

"Why do you keep focusing on him?" he said.

"Nathan," she said, but he interrupted her.

"When I first heard who was coming," he said," I was intrigued, but I had never expected the famous prodigy to actually live up to her name. Still, here you were, keeping me interested and your heart close every time we talked. I've read about your youth as well, what was on paper anyway, like you have with mine. Don't you know only I understand you? Then why are you worrying about him every time we're together?"

For a moment she was lost for words. Sure, when she had read his file, a part of her had felt at home in the abuse she read, one she was all too familiar with. Still, she couldn't let herself linger on that feeling, not when he was a serial killer, not when the lines were getting blurred more and more every session. Did he think she liked Dante? When she saw Dante's surprised eyes at Nathan mentioning her caring for him, it almost seemed like her bodyguard believed him. He looked away when he noticed her gaze, red peppered on his cheeks.

She didn't though. Dante was righteous, honest and straightforward. If they were together, he would never lie to her, never make her cry. He'd be good to her. She never had been able to accept any love that would treat her heart gently. All she knew was how to break it, she had the scars on her hand now as proof of that.

"Dante's my friend," she said.

"Why do you need a friend?" he frowned," what good has having people close to you ever done for us? All you want to do is save everyone and keep the situation from escalating, time and time again, but I'm telling you Helene, you'll never be happy like that. Let it all burn, this whole fucking world."

"What will I do then?" she said," standing alone amidst the ash?"

He smiled, like the answer was a secret he wasn't willing to give up yet. So instead he leaned forward, gaze flicking from her bandaged hands back to her eyes.

"Two truths and one lie," he said," start."