When Wyatt woke up, he no longer found himself cuddling with the kitchen knives in the bathtub, nor was he inhaling dirt from the forest floor any longer. For a nicer change, he was in an actual bedroom, with white curtains and windows, completely the opposite of Royce's prison chamber style of a room. His entire body ached, including, for some reason, his nose.

"Did Dagger curse me?" he wondered out loud.

"Who cursed you?"

He felt his heart die for a millisecond and shot up in bed. His shoulder protested out loud and he hunched over, his hand instinctively covering the bandaged wound protectively. When Wyatt was sure that he could open his eyes, he looked over and spotted a boy.

"Who are you?"

Before the boy could answer, another girl and...wait, was that Star? He stared in bewilderment at the sixteen year old. Boy...had she changed.

Star glared at him the way normal people watched serial killers in prison cells. He sensed pure disgust radiating from her.

"Wyatt Clark," she declared, storming to the bed, "You are by far the most hypocritical, deadbeat traitor I have every known!"

She raised a hand to smack him and he instinctively rolled out of the way, falling off the edge of the bed in the process. His knees hit the ground painfully and he scrambled up. "Woah, lady, chill! We haven't seen each other in, what, two years? How was I supposed to know why you ran away?"

She gave the famous "Lighting Triple-Kill" look before tackling him onto the wooden floor, her hands at his neck.

So much for the "elegant lady" look she used to have.

"Answer me this question," Star snarled, "and I may or may not let you see the next sunrise. What the hell are you doing out in the woods?"

Wyatt froze. He couldn't tell. It felt like all those emotions of nothing but despair and pain couldn't be let out in just a few sentences. Wyatt took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"It's true, I was working for Royce. Up until a few days ago, I still was. But then..." he swallowed the dry lump in his throat, "He killed Chase. He killed my brother. So I attacked. I was too weak, and I fell off the cliff." The boy standing in the background gave a low whistle.

Wyatt cleared his throat. "I lived. Then I was attacked by Dagger Belmont and Crimson Ryder. I thought I had died, because Dagger told me he had injected me a needle with a deadly poison. It turned out to be Kool-Aid-"

"Wait, this guy stabbed your neck and injected fruit punch in your jugular?" Star raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. So he saved me, and I was going to leave, and then I was attacked by the Purgatory Brothers. I don't remember which..."

"Drake Lancelot and Damien Rogue. They are also known as Two and Three in the Purgatory Brothers," the other girl informed him.

"And then you wound up here because we saved your hide," Star finished.

"That concludes my sob story," Wyatt ended.

"Oh, please," the girl muttered.

Star stood up. "Well, since you're not working for Royce anymore, I think we'll spare you. Allow me to introduce you to my crew."

She gestured to the girl. "This," she began, "is Isabell. She's our sniper and our spy for the majority of our missions. She's great with long-ranged weapons and excels at archery." Star glanced back. "She also has...ah...a nasty habit of spilling unnecessary blood if you make her mad."

Isabell waved. "All true. I'm the most badass sixteen year old archer you'll ever meet!" She grinned.

Star ignored Isabell and gestured to the boy. "And this," she started, "is Brandon, a.k.a. Torch."

"Why do they call you Torch?" Wyatt inquired.

Torch grinned and flexed his muscles. "Because I'm fucking hot," he answered.

Behind him, the girls groaned. "Torch is our thug and hardy man during most of the missions," Star corrected. "We call him Torch because he has Fire Magic."

Torch complained in the background.

Star stood over Wyatt and held out her hand. He gratefully took it, standing up warily. "Now that you don't work for Royce, you're going to work with us now."

Wyatt crossed his arms. "I'm interested."

Star continued, "There's a village not far from here. It used to be called Rusty Village, home to some of the worst criminals and gangs."

Torch snorted, "You'd think that the baddies living there would've at least given their village a cooler name."

"Shut up, Mac." Star said, "Anyway, Royce infiltrated the place and now his guards live there."

Wyatt heard Thane chuckle in the background. "So, what do I do?"

Star grinned, a glint her eyes reminding Wyatt of Jeff the Killer. "Isn't it obvious? We kill them all. You are going to do it."

Wyatt grinned back. "Yes, Milady."

"Shut up, Clark, and get to it."

*****
Cassie Blaze

She sat on the edge of the altar, the wind blowing her bangs away from her face.

Cassie felt a vibrate next to her hand and picked up her phone.

"Hey, Dagger. How is it up there?"

The boy's voice made her inwardly cringe. "Fine. Wyatt figured out that killing Royce's guards shorten his life. He's going to Rusty Village to get rid of the majority."

"Smart guy. I knew he'd figure it out sooner or later."

There was hesitation in Dagger's voice. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Cassie, but... ah..."

"What? What's wrong?"

His words came out rushed. "Thisreallyprettyladytoldhimaboutit. I think she's the runaway daughter of Duke Lighting."

Cassie growled, "Why am I not surprised?"

A sudden shadow fell next to her. She dropped the phone and lurched backwards, startled.

"Relax, lady, it's just me," Dagger smiled.

She forced her marathoning heart to calm down before punching his arm. "Don't do that!"

"That was hilarious," Dagger breathed out.

Cassie raised her eyebrows. "I'm funny?"

"Ridiculous."

She rolled her eyes.

An image popped up into her mind. Before Cassie realized it, she had blurted out, "Hey, Dagger, do you sleep with a stuffed dog?"

Dagger's laughs stopped abruptly. He looked at her, and Cassie found his silver eyes unsettling, the way he looked at her like she was a failed lab experiment. Very quietly, he whispered, "How did you know?"

She felt sweat run down her neck. She'd never been this pressured since she was forced to present an oral report about unicorns in the fourth grade.

"I...I'm sorry. I was getting something from your quarters and... I found the stuffed animal."

Dagger closed his eyes, almost like in a silent debate, and sighed. "Roman," he admitted, "The stuffed dog I sleep with is named Roman."

She felt the corners of her mouth quirk up. "Cute."

"I don't know why I decided to go to a general store to buy a kid's toy. I just felt that without a teddy bear or a plush, I couldn't sleep." He stared at the ground. "It had something to do with my missing past. I feel...no, I know that I've always slept with a stuffed animal of some sort, from when I was a young boy to now."

He closed his eyes.

Cassie sat staring at him, dumbstruck. "You're brave, Dagger Belmont."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "My worst is out, what else would I fear?"

"Me."

Dagger and Cassie both spun around quickly. Standing there was Royce, his arms crossed."Well, if it isn't the traitor," Royce spat, "back from your murder so quick, 'Jeff'?"

Dagger seemed frozen in place. Royce sighed almost sarcastically and glared at Dagger. "If you want your memories back quickly, you might not want to switch out my deadly poisons for a kiddie drink next time, Belmont."

Royce swept his eyes over Dagger in disgust, looking at him the way you looked at someone else's number two in a public bathroom.

He motioned over to Cassie. She felt her heart die for a minute before whispering, "Yes, Royce?"

He walked closer to her. Royce pushed her hair back from her ear and bent down, whispering, "I hope you haven't forgotten the plan, dear Cassidy. Now, go and get Chase, I have to speak with him."

She swallowed the dry air in her throat and nodded, ignoring Dagger's weak protests as she walked into the quarters, the door clanging ominously as she shut it closed.

*****

Chase Clark

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and popped the cork off of another wine bottle, dumping the contents into a glass. He held his breath and downed it in one, the liquid burning the back of his throat

As Chase was about to go for tenths, Cassie walked in. "What the hell, Chase!" she screamed before snatching the wine out of his hand and pouring it on his head. He woke up from his haze immediately, standing up. "What was that for?"

"For drinking, you dumbass! Last time I checked, you're still five years under, idiot!"

He rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. "Freedom of choice, Blaze! My brother is dead! He died believing that I died! There is no reason why I should be living!" Chase yelled back.

Cassie's hand smacked his face. Chase looked at her, blush on his left cheek as he stared at her in shock.

"That's the whole point, Clark! While you were busy killing your body, news went around Royce's place! Wyatt's alive!"

He focused. "What? He's alive? How? Nobody could fall off that cliff and live tell the story!"

"Wyatt did!" Cassie wiped tears from her eyes. "He lived for you! And you're here, taking in enough wine to feed an army! What's wrong with you?"

Chase slumped down and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he muttered, tears suddenly forming in his eyes. "Damn, I really am drunk."

"Royce told you to meet him."

"I'm not helping Royce anymore."

She knelt down next to him. "At least Wyatt has a chance if we work for Royce," she murmured.

Chase sighed dejectedly. "Alright, Miss Bossy Boots. I'll meet Royce and fake this all out to save Wyatt."

Cassie smiled. "Don't die."

"No promises."