*Fidelio's POV*

Just as though a bucket full of ice water had been splashed onto me, the horrors of what that night held crashed against my soul. Breaking it again. No matter how hard I tried to forget it, I couldn't. It held me as a bird in a cage. Unable to fathom the life of the birds who were free. It held me prisoner, against my own self. Reminding me of the harsh times thrown onto every one of us in the name of our destiny.

Shuddering badly as the events of that night, the night of the ball, the night of Jason James almost throwing Wanda into the hands of death, the night which shattered me in a way that made me enable to put back together my pieces. That night was truly something people give the name of nightmare to. My mind couldn't help but remember all that again when Wanda asked me about it.

Blood was oozing out of her mouth as her slightly limp body fell into my arms. Blood smearing my grey suit. Yet I hadn't cared. It was as if someone is using a sharp knife to slowly, brutally slice into my heart. She had been gasping for breathe, for oxygen to enter her quickly, for the pain to go away. My hands went towards the spot where a dagger was pierced in her back, whilst my eyes remained at the spot where it's tip was coming out from her stomach. The dagger had pierced her body from the back and out of the front. My fingers brushed in the area of the huge red spot, covering her whole stomach as I could hear ambulance sirens, loudly echoing all around. Telling everyone that something was wrong. But in reality everything was wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen.

I hadn't realized that it had been around 30 minutes and I had been sobbing and holding onto her body which was going lifeless second by second, as stretcher was brought and Wanda's unconscious form was snatched from my numb arms and laid onto the stretcher. I had remained there. On the floor, not moving a limb just staring into thin air when someone pulled at my arms making me rise and look at Isabella's pale and horrified face, utter tension and confusion lacing her words as she spoke something along the lines of 'Del! c'mon come back to life! they are taking her to the hospital! Del!'' All whilst she shook me like a maniac.

When I got into the senses, which was after some seconds, I had rushed and sat in the ambulance which Wanda was in. We were midway the destination when suddenly Wanda woke up and began questioning for her phone which I am pretty sure someone might have picked up from the spot. I couldn't do anything so I told her I would give her the phone when she will get treated and will be okay. But her next words did break my heart into pieces.

She wanted to call someone to tell him how much she loved him.

She was brought to the hospital and after lengthy treatments, around 5 days, the doctor had given us reports on her condition. Her wounds were much more that we had thought.

Much, much more...

She had a long cut near her collar bones which started from one shoulder and ended at the other. They had applied stitches there. Then a knife stab which had pierced her back and the front. Stitches and different strategies were applied there too. I didn't even want to think about the stab which had cracked her tenth rib a bit, which I am sure would be healed by now. A gash in her right calf, possibly from a rock. Two deep wounds, one on her left temple and one on her lower jaw.

They were much, much more than we had expected.

Feeling my body shudder as I felt something soft brush against the little stubble on my jaw, I looked at Wanda, seeing her lean in as she spoke carefully, not wanting to say something wrong.

''What had happened that night Del?'' She asked.

Being an eccedentesiast I am, I felt a smile plaster my features as I brushed my fingers along her cheekbones, before saying: ''Let that be in the past. You are fine, here, with me. Why talk about things which are bound to break us?'' I asked.

''But shouldn't I know what had happened to me? What had he done? He didn't do something I would be disgusted thinking about. Did he?'' She questioned, her voice almost a whisper at the end.

''He didn't. You were way strong a woman to let a man like him do anything like that to you.'' I spoke proudly knowing she wasn't someone who need someone else to save her. She was good enough, even against knives. Then how strong could others be against someone who could fight knives?

''How much time I had been out?'' She questioned.

''A year and a half.'' I said, feeling an overwhelming feeling dawn on me.

A gasp left her mouth. She sat there covering her mouth as she cried. The soft sounds reaching my ears as I quickly wrapped my arms around her little form. Feeling warm tears sting my own eyes as tears soaked into my shirt.

''Shh..Shh chica! It's alright. You are alright. Everything's alright honey! Shh...It's okay!'' I stroked her hair.

''A year and a half is a long time...'' She wept.

''Well what can I say...you took quite a long nap. You need to correct your habits woman!'' I joked lightly earning a chuckle from her.

''All this time didn't change you. Huh?'' She smiled.

''Maybe it did...'' Was all I said.