I didn't want to hear what he had to say next. However, I knew I had too. If I didn't hear it now, it'll come up later by surprise and it'll hurt more coming from someone else. I need to hear it from him.

"Your... Dad?" I questioned, just making sure I heard him right.

He nodded. "Listen, I would really rather not talk about this." He ran a hand through his hair and even in the lightless room I knew he had that tired look on his face. "I failed as a parent, and I don't want to talk about my parent's failing." He added brokenly.

I needed something to calm my untamed sea of curiosity. "Was he... abusive?"

"No." He looked up quickly, defensively. "My father loved my mother fiercely. He'd never lay a hand on her that she didn't want there." He walked to me and grabbed both of my hands. "Can we please... just let this go? For now?"

I nodded slowly, giving in so easily to his wishes. "Yeah. But I'll expect an answer soon." I pointed out, remembering that Iris taught me to not give in so easily to him.

He put his hands up defensively. "Fine by me. But after we find Gracie. And after I get some sleep."

"Fine by me." It wasn't fine by me. You can't just leave someone at a cliffhanger like that, it's not right and it made me feel like he didn't think he could trust me. I'm sure that wasn't the case, but I couldn't help but to let my thoughts wander.

But I knew this was terrible timing. And if he wasn't ready to talk about it, then neither was I.

***

I woke up to people screaming, doors slamming, and glass shattering.

I tensed up when the body next to me stirred awake, groaning and growling. "I swear to the moon, if they wake me up one more time I'm going to fucking murder them." Arlis clambered out of the bed and shook on a pair of jeans, tossing on a shirt from the ground.

I stood up and followed him out, dressing as quickly as possible.

The sun was hanging lazily on the horizon, just peaking over the hills and trees, it's rays lighting the dying forest in a warm light. It gave a warm feeling to the cold people, ironic.

"Look, you woke Arlis up." Becker said, gesturing with both arms to Arlis and I who were walking down the stairs, me practically jogging to keep up with Arlis.

He jumped over the railing the last five feet and landed easily on the ground, stalking up to Constance and Becker. I finished safely walking down the steps, keeping down the thoughts of how hot he was pissed off, and stood next to him.

His jaw clenched and he tensed up, his fists balled. His hair was messy with bed head, sticking up in random directions. He was barely awake, but I could still distinguish anger from tiredness.

"Yes. You woke me up. So who wants to be hurt first? You have two seconds to decide. Too late." He kicked Constance's legs out from under her, making her tumble to the ground and hit her head on the hard wood flooring.

Becker looked scared as he backed against the wall, his eyes wide with fear. He gulped as Arlis's hand flung forward and hit the wall next to Becker's head.

Becker followed Arlis's arm to the hole in the drywall, his body swaying slightly.

"The next time you two wake me up, your head won't hit the floor it will be in the floor. And the hole won't be in the wall, it will be in your face." He took a couple steps back as Constance stood, rubbing the back of her head. "GOT IT!?" He yelled at them. They nodded slowly and he took a deep breath. "Good night."

"Actually it's six in the mor—" Becker started to correct him. 

"Did I fucking stutter!? I said goodnight. Kate, are you coming?" He looked to me, practically daring me to say no.

This was a hard decision. Bed with hot and pissed off boyfriend or kitchen with two arguing people.

Curiosity got the better of me and I shook my head slowly, wiping the drowsiness from my eyes. "I think I'll just... stay here."

He narrowed his eyes. "More room for me." He grumbled as he started walking back up the steps, yawning and stripping his shirt off, teasing me with a short lived view of his abs.

I tore my eyes away from the stairs when he was finally up them, and looked back to Constance and Becker.

I made the wrong decision. I was alone with them. And I... I was actually terrified.

"H—"

"Shut up, you're not in this." Constance glared at me and I put my hands up in surrender and took a step back, walking into the kitchen to get something to eat. What was I supposed to do? Argue with her? Stand up for myself?

Probably. But I was still too tired to do that.

"Why are you so mean to her!?" Becker yelled, standing up for me because he obviously knew I wouldn't stand up for myself.

I dug in the cabinets until I found the familiar form of a box of cereal.

"Because we don't know her! She just comes in and ruins everything! If she wasn't around we probably would have already found the kids. Gracie. Zach. Whoever else is missing!" Constance screamed back. I hated that I couldn't tell if she was just saying that to argue, or if she was right.

I made a disgusted noise as I realized the cereal I grabbed was Raisin Bran. I put it back up and continuing digging around for actual food instead of a hardened plant you put in milk.

"What, you have something to say, Kate?" Constance peeked into the kitchen, her face red and angry. "Say it to my face."

I widened my eyes and nodded to the cabinet, gulping. "I Uh... really hate Raisin Bran and that's the only cereal up there."

Becker gasped dramatically and ran into the kitchen, barely having to reach up due to his height, and grabbed the box of cereal. "You may have just lost your only friend." He said and hugged the box close to his chest. "And to think I was standing up for you." He shook his head and then winked at me.

Constance scoffed loudly and threw her hands up. "I'm leaving. My dad needs me. They're actually DOING SOMETHING! Unlike two of the most powerful supernaturals in the world."

"Oh shut up, Constance." Becker slammed his box of cereal on the counter and then shook his head at her. I wasn't used to hearing anything venomous come from his mouth. "You wanna know the real reason why you hate Kate?"

Constance sneered at him, pulling a blade from her waist. "I know why I hate her. I hate her because instead of tracking down Konrad's plans, we're dealing with mates. I hate her because she's too childish to sleep with him so he can go back to being our Arlis. Not this soft and 'I'm throwing away my deer head because little miss Cry Baby wants it out' Arlis."

Becker made a face of disgust. "Good call, Kate. That head was atrocious. But NO, that's not why you hate her." He smirked and it wasn't malicious or devilish, but more childish.

Constance held her blade in her hands, studying the handle with the number 89 etched into it. "Then why do I hate her?"

Now would be the time in any book or movie that I raised my hand lightly and said, "I'm right here," but this wasn't a book or movie. This was real life, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn't want it to be real death.

Becker rolled his eyes drastically. "Because you're jealous of her." He drew the words out slowly, and with each syllable I could see some sort of emotion flare through Constance.

At first I thought she was angry, but I realized quicker and quicker that no... no she wasn't angry. She was coming to a realization. But that epiphany phase faded away and was replaced with anger.

"Why would I be jealous of a human!?" She shouted.

"Because she got to be human." Becker said, sighing in defeat. "You once told me that you regret not running from your father at the age of ten. Because you wish you were normal. Because you hated having no childhood. You hated not going to prom. You hated not losing your virginity the night of homecoming. I know you Constance, whether you like it or not. And I know you hate Kate the opposite reason why you hate yourself. You didn't get to live your life the way you wanted, and she did."

She threw her dagger too quick, I almost jumped in front of Becker but I didn't have too. The dagger stopped in front of Becker, floating in the air.

Becker cracked his neck. "My turn." He said and flung the dagger back without touching it.

It stopped in front of Constance's face, her eyes shut and her body in a defense position that wouldn't help her. She looked up, her eyes soft and weak. I saw it, the fear. The hatred.

"You can't get over your own self doubt and trust issues to like someone who is making your best friend happy. When was the last time you spent the night at Arlis's and didn't wake up to him screaming in his sleep?" Becker dropped his hand and the dagger fell to the floor. "The answer is never. The very first night we slept here, back when there wasn't even a kitchen, he screamed and hurt himself in his sleep. Did you automatically wake up in the middle of the night last night, prepared to go help him but realized you didn't have to? Because I did." I softened as he yelled, my body aching for Arlis. He didn't deserve that. No matter how scary he thought he was.

"I don't have trust issues. Or self doubt." She said sternly, standing tall. "You just threw my dagger at me! It wouldn't kill you, but it would kill me." She shouted.

Becker shook his head. "If you trusted me or even yourself, you would know that I would never have killed you. You were prepared to die just now, I saw it. You thought I'd do it. Call it some sort of crazy trust fall. Just leave, Constance. Go to Quebec, you're pathetic. I was right when I said if we ever hit troubles, you'd be the first of us to leave."

Hurt flashed in her eyes but it was gone quicker than it came. "Yeah. You were right. But so are others when they call you a monster. You might know the true me, but I also know the true you." She nodded, the corners of her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Becker took a stumbling step forward but caught himself. "Is that how you think of me?" He asked, frowning. Hurt was etched intricately across his face.

She nodded and picked up her dagger, safely placing it back in its safe spot. "It's how everyone thinks of you." She turned and, without saying another word, slammed the door and left.

Arlis walked down the stairs and glared at Becker. "Seriously!? We're slamming doors now?" He yelled, not paying attention enough to see Becker trembling.

Becker held up his hand, "Obdormiscere." He said and Arlis crumpled to the ground, his eyes shut

I didn't waste a single breath as I ran too him, pressing my fingers over his wrist, feeling for a pulse. When I finally got one, I sighed out in relief and looked to Becker angrily. "What did you do!?" I shouted.

He closed his eyes as tears started to run down his face. "Obdormiscere."

I shut my eyes and felt my body collapse next to Arlis's.

***

When I woke up, Arlis's head was on my shirtless stomach and his arms were wrapped around my hips lightly.

"Arlis." I whispered, running my hand through his downy soft hair, gaining no response from him.

He shuddered slightly in his sleep, his lips moving slowly.

I shook him. "Arlis." But he didn't open his eyes.

"He'll wake up. Eventually. When he feels rested." I jumped as Becker's voice came from besides me. Sitting in the desk chair at Arlis's laptop was Becker, his eyes red from crying and his shoulders hunched over.

I glared at him. "What did you—"

"Happens when I'm sad. I tend to just... lash out with magic. It was just a simple sleeping spell. I'm— I'm sorry. It's just... I haven't fought that hard with Constance in a long time." If I wasn't listening as close as I was, I would have missed the way he caught on her name, or the fact that he said her full name. It wasn't Con-Con or Connie.

I nodded, my anger slowly ebbing away. I hadn't realized his argument with Constance was that bad. "What was it over? Before I... interrupted?"

He sighed, standing up from the chair and playing with one of the curls in his hair. "She's going to Quebec." He stated sadly.

I shrugged, not understanding the big deal about going to Quebec. "So? Canada isn't that far, I'm sure she'll be okay. She can handle herself."

Becker looked at me with a concerned expression. "That's why I'm worried. She can handle herself. Quebec has Witches there, a whole Coven. And they all hate her, every single one of them. She knows she can handle herself and she'll start something with those witches I just know it. Plus she's back with her dad and I can't stand him." He pondered around the room, looking at anything and everything except at my face. His eyes lingered on the painting on the wall, a sad memory flashing in his eyes.

I pursed my lips, slipping out from under the covers with, thankfully, my pants on. I looked cautiously to Becker who didn't even seem phased by my shirtless body.

"I'm too tired to care about your stomach, if that makes you feel better." He shielded his eyes away as I put on the shirt that was... on the floor? "You dressed?"

I smiled softly. "Yes."

"Better be, because I'll—" I cringed and looked over to Arlis who's arm was thrown over the empty spot where I was laying, his back showing. He had back muscles for miles that flamed a soft tan in the sun inching through the window. Scratches ran up and down them in fields, a sight I hated and cursed at.  His eyes were still shut. He snored slightly and patted the spot with his hand, feeling the mattress. "Kate?" He whispered, calling out, a case of R.E.M in his eyes.

I smiled at him and walked to the bed, sliding back under the covers.

"We should talk later... he'll probably wake up." I said to Becker quietly, who was chewing on his thumb.

He shook his head. "Doubt it. If he does I'll put him back to sleep."

Glad that he was getting rest, I said, "Thanks. For standing up for me... I know how hard it must of been to argue with Constance and I can't help but feel that some of that was my fault." I had been a part of the reason why he was arguing with Constance, I can't deny that. Constance hated me, I thought maybe we'd get along but apparently I was wrong.

He winked at me. "That was petty. I love arguing with her about small things like that. The main argument was about her going to Quebec. I know she lives in Canada, but Kasparov has made it a personal goal to stay as far away from Quebec as possible. He didn't do that for no reason."

I nodded slowly. "Still, thanks. He's her dad though right, won't he take care of her?"

He faced the ceiling tiredly. "No..." He trailed off into incoherent mumbles. "Well, I have chicken nuggets to make and problems to pretend don't exist. See you after my anxiety cools and you get some sleep that I need yet don't have?" He raised his eyebrows and laughed coldly. "I love being a teenager."

I scoffed. "You're probably two hundred years—"

"Shh... I'm a teenager." He smirked, winking at me. "Now, I'm off. Maybe I can go to Starbucks and grab an Eggnog mocha."

I rolled my eyes as he rolled the curtains down, walked to the door, and softly shut it, enveloping us in darkness.

Arlis's grip on me tightened and I looked down at him sympathetically.

He had nightmares before I came. He hurt himself in his sleep. I ran my hand through his hair and softly sighed, just watching him.

I often scoffed at books where the main character watched their significant other sleep, but now I understood. I understood that watching the person you cared about be in utter peace was a good feeling. That wanting to remember every curve and line was actually natural.

I felt him huff out and I stopped running my hand through his hair, scared that I'd woken him up.

"Hmm... no don't stop." His eyes fluttered open and I cursed at myself. I woke him up. But he didn't seem angry, more content. I continued playing with his hair and he grabbed a strand of mine, twirling it between his fingers. "I uh... I know you heard what Becker said. About... my nightmares."

I nodded slowly. "What are they from?" Probably a dumb question, at least I felt stupid after him.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I get nightmares. Flashbacks. Of my parents. Of the night they died. When Stone..." he looked up at me as he trailed off. "It's a long story that I'd rather not go into right now. How was your sleep?" He switched the conversation so easily, and I let him.

I smiled softly. "Lovely." It would always be lovely with him.