Arthur made his way through the gypsy encampment. It quiet, but for the sound of the crackles from the fires that were lit, here and there. An old man that sat on the steps of his wagon, and the dogs that were tied with rope to the wheels of the brightly painted caravan's, watching as he made his way to find one van in particular.

He had killed that boy........Earlier that day, while his own young brother had fought with Isaiah, not far from where he was, he had smashed the lad's face in with his bare hands, for no good reason; other than the monsters in his dangerous mind had escaped. Demons making their way out with his anger. The oldest Shelby having to be held back; stopped from inflicting any more damage on the already lifeless young man.

Even before the war, he had had issues with his anger; getting in fights, getting into trouble, because something would take over him. But since the war, since the horrors of digging tunnels and life in the trenches. Since having to watch as men died around him; had their limbs ripped off by bullet, mine and mortar, the monsters.......well, they had just taken over. And no matter how much alcohol he drank; no matter how much cocaine he snorted up his nose. No matter how many nameless, faceless women he fucked, nothing could drown out the creatures, the darkness that plagued his mind. Tommy telling him that he had to do something; that of course the family would cover for what he had done, but that he had to get some help. Polly pulling her oldest nephew to one side and telling him of a woman that had come to the outskirts of town with a group of gypsies; a woman that may be able to help. Arthur's guilt over what he had done, forcing him out into the night; out to the gypsy encampment to find the woman that lived in the distinctive caravan.

Slowly, he stopped; he hadn't realised until this moment, that there were no more fires, no more dogs; no more old man watching him from the steps. The space around him, now dark and quiet. The only thing proving that he was not alone, a small light shining through a window; Arthur slowly making his way towards it, until he realised that he had found the van that his aunt had described.

Hesitantly, he reached up. Staying for a moment, before he knocked softly on the door. His brows furrowing as not a noise came from inside, Arthur about to knock again, until the top half of the door opened.

"What do you want, coming here at this hour..........?" A beautiful, yet slightly unhappy voice asked. Arthur doing his best to see the face to which the voice belonged, yet despite his best efforts, he could see nothing.

"Well.......cat got your tongue........?"

"I.........I need help........" Arthur confessed. Hating sounding so weak in front of someone that he neither knew, nor could see. His eyes widening as the light from the window was suddenly moved. The flicker of the candle lighting up the exquisite face of the woman as she stared down at him.

"What did you do.........?" She enquired, as Arthur pulled the cap from his head and pushed his fingers through his hair. The same fingers, knuckles, that not too long ago, were covered in blood.

"I killed a lad earlier today........" He told her. The two looking at one another through the tiny, dancing flame of the candle for a moment, before she opened the rest of the door.

"Then you better come in........" She said. Turning and making her way further into the caravan. Arthur just nodding and making his way up the three small steps.

                                                          >----------------------------------<<

"Sit........." She said. Arthur doing as he was told; doing his best to avoid all the dried or drying plants that hung in bunches from the roof of the van.

"What's your name.........?" She continued, as she turned and held out a cup for him to take. Arthur eyeing it suspiciously.

"Its tea. I don't tend to poison people. Well, not with tea, anyway......name........?"

"Arthur.......Arthur Shelby........" Arthur replied, as he took the cup.

"Well, it is nice to meet you, Arthur. And you can call me (Y/n)......" She told him, as she took a seat across from him; before slowly reaching out and taking his right hand in hers.

"So.......why did you kill him..........?" (Y/n) added, as she continued to examine his hand. Arthur not sure if she could somehow know of what he had done, and how he had done it; or whether she just did this with everyone. His heart beginning to beat at a pace, as she looked up at him. The oldest Shelby sure that her eyes appeared as black as ink and were looking deep into his soul.

"I........." Arthur hesitating for a moment, as she brough his hand to her. The former sapper able to feel her heart beat calmly against her palm. The breath catching in his throat as she gave him a reassuring smile. Arthur not sure how she could seem so much at peace, while sat in her caravan with a killer.

"The monsters........demons, they live in my head. I can't stop the anger, stop the rage until it's too late. I beat him ta death with tha hand ya holding. I left his face, almost unrecognisable. I don't want ta be this anymore. I don't want ta do this anymore. I need ya ta help me.........." Arthur explained, surprised at himself; surprised that he had been so candid. But not as surprised as he was at the breathtaking woman sat across from him. A woman that still seemed not to be concerned.

"Demons, monsters take many shapes and forms; and our minds can be our own worst enemies. They can become dangerous, if pushed in the wrong way, if pushed to extremes. But I know of ways to counter monster and demons; to counter dangerous minds. Yet tell me one thing though first........do you regret what you did..........?" She enquired. Arthur nodding and doing his best to not let the tears, that pricked at the corners of his eyes, escape.

"Then let us begin to deal with this dangerous mind of yours............."