At the beginning of their sparring session - though 'sparring' didn't quite seem to accurately encompass the acts in front of me - their hits were met with muttered Angel names and cheap heals so they could continue. But soon, the fight became more vicious and the hits more deadly, no time given to heal or recover. Both bled and broke the other, and then continued like this truly was a fight to the death.

I was enchanted as I watched, lost in seeing their power, their calculation, but also their brutality, their natures. James had never fought like this before, at the crosswords of sick enjoyment, life-or-death defense, and true murderous intent. I felt like I was watching how James would be with a worthy opponent, methodically understanding his foe more. And Malachi doing just the same, reading James more with each movement, each strike or defense. A battle of minds as well as bodies, seeing who could learn and therefore anticipate their opponent first.

I found myself holding my breath or flinching when either of them would land a particularly damaging blow, though they didn't seem to mind or notice. Malachi even less-so than James, like the pain didn't register, like he couldn't feel it in his Shift. And maybe he couldn't, maybe in his nature his vision tunneled to only see the target before him, maybe he fell into his nature even deeper than either of us did.

After a time that could have been minutes or hours, the training-versus-reality line was crossed as James spun away from a strike that would have easily caved in a Human's chest. But Malachi snapped his hand to my Pair's throat and flung him against the wall like he weighed nothing. I heard James' head hit with a crack as his body slackened for a moment. He didn't fall, regaining control the fraction of a second later, but it was still enough of an opening for the perfectly honed weapon he was facing.

Malachi was already before him, holding James' head against the wall by a hand knotted in his hair. I saw the flash of a memory behind my eyes, Malachi's memory as James had held his head steady in a similar way. Then Malachi's fist was halfway across the distance to James' upturned face, his whole body thrown into the punch. I felt panic rise as I realized that Ailech wasn't here to heal, that I didn't have time for a shield, that this would surely crush my Pair's skull. It looked like it would cave the cement wall behind him too.

But then Malachi stumbled back, his hands gripping his collar, his knuckles white. He fell to his knees with a cry, his black eyes going wide with the closest thing to panic I had ever seen on a Shifted face as he trembled. For a moment I thought the movement was from pain, like Grayson or Cordelia's gift, like the Serpentine's poison, but then I noticed differences. It wasn't so much a tremble as a twitch, a vibration, like a current was running through his body, making it jump and spasm.

Malachi fell forward until he was doubled over on the ground, convulsions still rippling down his back as a whimper escaped his lips, noisy wet breaths following as he writhed. His hands found their way up to his white hair as he curled in, tucking his head down as if that could protect him. He was bowed like he had been in my last memory, as he waited for the Collector's punishment after James had left, and the similarity made the room seem to spin.

What seemed forever passed as we watched the collar's punishment continue to run through Malachi. Eventually, his twitches subsided, the tension in his body relaxing until he stilled fully. After another moment he braced himself with one hand on the ground and looked up through damp hair with still-black eyes, his needled teeth bared.

"I'll fucking kill Abby," he ground out in his low, rumbling voice. And if the look on his face meant anything, I believed him.

There was a moment of stunned silence, then James stormed out, and though I was ashamed of it, I left too, too uncomfortable being alone with Malachi.

» ✦ «

James burst into my office early that morning, as was to be expected given the situation. He had a look in his eyes like the edge of a sword, the only look more foreboding from him was when he Shifted, but luckily, he was staying within the laws of the Vault still, and kept his true nature covered.

"A shock collar? You collared him? You have collars? And you couldn't have made the punishments on a gradient? We were training and he had a fucking seizure. Are you trying to save him or break him?"

James' voice was as close to yelled as I had ever heard, at least, in his adult life, and his rare use of profanity didn't go unnoticed either. I hadn't heard him speak like that for decades. His usual cool, calm exterior was showing cracks to the fire I knew was always within him, the one that easily dwarfed his Sign.

"What would you have me do? I went over every option, every possibility, every incantation and temporary curse I could think of. And this is the least of those evils. This is the best I can do to protect this place and the people within it, without sealing him in a cell alone.

I want him with you, your Clan, I want him to see the world outside of your father's house. Which means he cannot be under house arrest, but, as you have seen, as we full well know, he cannot be left to his devices either. And he cannot simply be babysat like Jordan was by Ailech, as he will always be looking for any chance, any opportunity to cause harm, as he proved in my office upon his arrival.

If Jordan had not stopped him, hadn't somehow known what he was planning, then I wouldn't be here, maybe none of us would. He is far more dangerous than any of us because he doesn't have any reason to hold himself back. He will do anything to hurt or kill us, anyone. Anything to further his side.

It pains me greatly, and I will forever carry the burden of what I've done to him, both today and in my past, but I simply have no other solution. But if you do - please, tell me, please - because I do not like my own."

James still looked like he wanted to take a bite out of someone, but it no longer seemed to be exclusively me. I understood his feelings. I was angry too. I hated this solution too. And I felt responsible for Malachi in many ways too. We had both let him down in almost identical ways. Thrown him away when it was more convenient for us to be on our own. We had both damaged him, had a hand in breaking him, and were now faced with the damnation - whether his or our own - because of that past damage. But James couldn't see those similarities yet, he wasn't ready to see our parallels. So I stayed silent.

He continued to glare at me like I truly was his father, controlling Malachi because I gained some perverse pleasure from holding the leash of another, from owning a life like it was property. The distrust that James still held for me cut, but I understood his reasoning there as well. I did not blame James nor Malachi for their feelings toward me, I just wished there was more I could do to repair all that was broken, all of my mistakes.

"Then at least make the punishment something else, anything else. You put a shock collar on him knowing our history. It's too cruel."

The malice was gone from James' voice. He and I both knew I wouldn't change the rules of the collar. But I also knew James had to ask, that his request would bring him some sort of peace. And I owed him that much many times over.

"And there lies another difficult choice - Malachi doesn't fear pain or even try to avoid it like the rest of us do. Quite the opposite actually, I think he finds comfort in the hurt, or maybe strength. Moreover, any fear he does hold is as far beneath 'normal' as yours is from the average Human on the street. Anything less than...than how the collar currently operates, and it wouldn't be a deterrent, wouldn't be able to stop him. I had to use a measure of pain, a type of pain, that would cause panic in him. And the only thing I know Malachi fears is your father - so, that is what I had to use.

Additionally, I needed something that would not only stop his desire to hurt someone but his body's ability to do so as well. As you know, I could possibly try to use the collar to truly control his movements, bend his body, but I believe that is a far worse fate than pain and a far darker magic than I care to ever attempt to use against someone. It is not a science nor a solution."

James' jaw set and I saw the fire growing in his eyes again. But there was no other choice, if there had been, I would have gladly chosen it.

"Ailech," he said stonily.

"Ailech cannot react as quickly as the collar. As yesterday proved, Malachi is faster than any of us, and always looking for opportunities. Ailech is only Human and quite honestly no match for someone like Malachi."

"Jordan's shields can be built around him."

"At all times? And what if she cannot keep her shield strong enough? What if she misses just one singular second, one movement, and someone dies? She does not deserve that guilt nor responsibility. You both have other things to focus on."

"Have certain areas of the Vault off-limits to your mages and warded so only we can be there with him."

"You know as well as I do that, given the chance, he would kill any one of you as well. And that suggestion bleeds chances. I am telling you, there is nothing I have not thought of. No possibility I have not played out in my mind. This was my last resort. This is not how I wanted it to be, not ever. He confided in me, trusted me, and all I ever returned to him was rejection, abandonment, betrayal, and now a collar around his neck. Do not think I have done this lightly."

I tried to keep my voice unwavering, but Malachi and James were my greatest regrets, my greatest mistakes, and I knew my guilt showed in my uneven voice. I regretted James because I had stood silently by while his father abused and used him, while he took the brunt of his cruelty and torture. I had silently watched as he withered away beneath his father's hand, hardening and hollowing until I convinced myself he was gone, his soul too broken and tarnished to save. I regretted how I had tricked myself, lied to myself so it was easier for me to leave him behind.

But I regretted Malachi because I had seen good in him, true goodness, such care and compassion. And I had cared for him, truly. I had known he wasn't empty or out of redemption's reach...but I had still left, ensuring he would follow the same path as James, damning him to the same harsh fate. I had convinced myself I couldn't save James, but I knew I could have saved Malachi - and I decided against it anyway. I had thrown him away, and I knew how that must have felt to him, a child abandoned by the only relationship he trusted, the only adult who had seen him as a child not an object.

I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving, working for the 'greater good'. But that didn't take away my guilt, and working for the greater good didn't stop the damage I had caused or the pain I had allowed. It hadn't been the greater good for James or for Malachi. And ultimately, I knew my abandonment had been for selfish reasons, though it had taken me years to admit. I wanted to escape, I wanted to build something great, a legacy. But I built my legacy on the broken bodies of so many, including two young boys I should have protected, I should have helped, I should have shielded and died for.

James finally spoke again. The brittle silence of my office as defeated as his voice.

"You could...compel him, only enough to make him stop, just to his knees or to bind his hands."

James sounded like he already knew my response, so I kept my voice gentle, allowing him to find the answer he was already circling.

"Do you think that is better than pain or panic? Do you think taking control of him, truly forcing him, and deciding his movements, is the more humane solution? Which would you choose for yourself, or for Jordan? To be hurt in a way that scares you, or to live in a body you know you are not in control of. To kneel when you want to stand? It may only be a small difference, but the collar's electricity does not take his body away from him, it merely overloads his muscles momentarily, but using my magic to compel him, to bend his will - if I even could - would make him nothing more than a puppet of flesh and bone. It would be like he was possessed. Only your father would do that to another living creature."

James was watching the floor now and I knew he would not answer, he didn't need to. Will bending and compulsion were the darkest magics, as dark as his father stealing souls, and he knew as well as I did that it was not a solution.

He stood and left without another word. Once he was down the hall, I dropped my head into my hands, suddenly feeling very tired and exceptionally old.