Transformation

[Acorn]

Becca moved away from the bed to stand near the doorway when Rita pulled Leon down to sit next to her. He could feel her witchy little eyes on them as he took Rita's hand in his and brought it up to kiss the back, but ignored the sensation and didn't look over at Becca. There was only Rita. He sighed with his nose and lips still pressed against the back of her hand, and ran his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles.

They'd just got her out of bed, and there she was again, pale and weak, but she spoke to him clearly, reassured him in her warm and measured tones. This wasn't Rita after her gunshot wound, this was Rita after she'd helped their friend. No, more than that — Orvar was part of their oddball family, making them a vampire, two werewolves, a witch, and an amazing woman who'd, without a second thought, given Orvar a way to recover from his injuries that he'd earned trying to help them.

They already owed Orvar a long list of debts: he'd given them sanctuary, the room they slept in, food to fill their bellies, and most importantly, he'd had a hand in saving Rita's life. Not once had Orvar brought up or even hinted at them paying him back. He'd given freely to them. If he'd been able to give Orvar blood, he would've, and Rita wouldn't have given him shit for sacrificing for a friend. She probably would've just made sure he had juice and cookies, and then loved on him.

When she asked if he'd been out, he rolled his face on her hand so it was his cheek resting on the back and smiled at her. "That your way of telling me I'm acting weird?" He didn't feel particularly antsy, but it had been close to a week since he and Nate had been on a run, and if she'd picked up on something that made her suggest going, then he'd be an idiot to ignore her. She'd known him before Lorelei had fucked with the seal that kept his transformations tied to the full moon — before the wolf had been allowed to roam about in his head, and she'd known him after. If anyone could recognize differences in his behavior that could be solved by running in the swamps and hunting some unsuspecting wildlife, it was Rita.

He turned his head and kissed her hand again. "Alright, I'll see if he wants to go after he gets here with your snack."

Not long after, Nate came through the door, a plate with cookies in one hand and a glass of juice in the other.

"Brought Thin Mints and Samoas," he said, moving towards them.

"Girl Scout cookies? Since when do we have Girl Scout cookies?" Leon asked, lowering Rita's hand so he could stare at the plate.

"Since I put them in my stash," said Becca.

"You have a stash? What else you got?"

"So you can sniff around until you find it? Nope, not telling." Becca crossed her arms over her chest and raised a thin eyebrow at Nate as the younger werewolf deposited the cookies and juice on the nightstand closest to Rita. "And you better not either."

"Speaking of sniffing around. You up for a run?" Leon asked, nabbing a cookie from the plate and popping it into his mouth despite Becca's protests. He grabbed another and offered it to Rita alongside her glass of juice, which seemed to mollify Becca. She'd stopped glowering at him, at least.

Nate was quick to agree, and left the room with Becca, presumedly to say his goodbyes to her. They'd really taken the whole couple ploy Rita had proposed before they went to visit her parents to the next level, hadn't they?

"Love you," he said, and leaned over to press a kiss to Rita's lips. "Be back before you know it."

With that, and another Thin Mint for the road, Leon left.

 

[Meraki]

"Not weird," Rita smiled tiredly, "yet, but it's been a while. You two deserve a bit of time to go out and run. I'm gonna be pretty boring here, anyhow. I'm just gonna be sleeping mostly."

"I love you too," she felt his lips press against hers and she ran her tired hand through his hair to pull him just a bit closer. There was something to be said for how steady Leon was, even when he lost his temper and got all muddled up in his head, he was always her rock. She didn't need his permission to help others, but she loved that he followed her and supported her even when he didn't necessarily agree with her choices. It was the kind of support she needed, as he had so eloquently pointed out to her mother. She was endlessly thankful for it and while she had told him quite a bit how much she loved him, she wanted to make sure he never had reason to doubt what he was to her.

The sun, the moon and all of her stars.

"I'll be here when you get back," she smiled, "Knock Nate around for me, would you? I heard that lady comment."

Just as soon as they had arrived, Rita was alone. Becca came back in after a short while and the two chatted for a moment before Rita felt the need to rest. She was so groggy, but she could not regret her decision. A little too much blood or not, she wanted to help Orvar and now he would heal. He had done everything for them, it was the least she could do. She was the only one who could give him that and she was glad that she had. Becca told her to close her eyes and when Rita did, she fell into a deep, relaxed sleep. Everything, for a moment, just felt right.

Until it wasn't.

A loud thump woke her from her sleep. She shot up straight to the sound of heavy footsteps, but it took her a moment to gather her bearings. She was so discombobulated after the blood loss that it was hard for her vision to come back in focus. Before she could adjust to the darkness of her room, the door flew open and men charged in wearing all back, guns raised and Rita recognized them immediately. Enforcers. Where was Becca? Fuck, where were Leon and Nate?

"We're under orders to take you alive," one of them said in a deep gruff voice, "Don't make this hard on yourself, Rita."

"Well that was your first mistake," she said as she pulled off the blankets and let her feet touch the floor, "Always be sure your target believes you have intent to kill."

Rita moved as fast as she could as they came after her, swinging and fighting, but Rita managed to get around the two men in her way towards the staircase where she saw Becca being hauled off like a sack of potatoes. "Becca!" Rita cried out as she tried to take the stairs, but she was met with more enforcers at the base of the stairs, Rita backed up a step until she hit the chest of one of them and moved to grab his gun, taking him down and over her shoulder into the ground. She raised it and shot off two warning shots, as more and more filled in and she lost the element of surprise.

She was so dizzy and they were all armed. There was no way she could take them down. There had to be at least fifteen and it was just her. Her knees gave out a bit under the weight of her blood loss and they drove in immediately. They were not gentle, they grabbed at her and tore her arms behind her back. She felt them shackle her hands behind her back with heavy, metal shackles. They dragged her out to the van, tossed her in the back alone and chained her shackles to the floor of the car. There was no one else though. Becca was in a separate van and Rita tried to call out for her again, but she felt a piece of duct tape pressed firmly over her mouth.

The Enforcers had no reason to be gentle with a traitor.

Just as it fell over her mouth, a hand gripped her jaw line powerfully and slammed her head back against the side of the car. "Just wait for the hell that's waiting back at the facility."

"Jenny's been waiting for you."

 

[Acorn]

Leon took Rita's request to heart. Every time he caught Nate (something that was becoming more and more of a challenge, because though Nate lacked his physical size and strength, he was fast), he'd kick his ass until the other werewolf slipped away and Leon had to catch him again. For the second run in a row, they spent the entire time chasing and wrestling each other, and the deer of the swamp breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Night had taken over fully when they shifted back at the edge of the road where Leon had parked the car, and they used the trees as cover while they pulled their clothes back on.

"You're really not gonna tell me?" Leon said, tugging his shirt over his head.

"Hell no," came the response from the nearest tree.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you're scared of Becca."

Nate scoffed. "Did you forget she's a witch?"

Leon laughed as he came around the tree he'd been behind, adjusting his clothes as he walked. "Fair enough, but we really gotta work on this whole sharing thing." Leon fished his keys from his pocket, hit the fob to unlock the car, and reached for the door handle, "Ain't right to have all those cookies and—" He felt a pain in his shoulder, like someone had slammed a spike into the muscle.

"What the fuck?" He reached over his shoulder where his fingers met a thin tube with a tufted, feather-like top. He yanked it out, but as he brought it around to inspect it further, but his vision swam and he shook his head. Seconds passed and his body began to betray him; his brain became thick with fog and his legs stopped supporting him. It was all he could to remain upright, leaned heavily against the side of the car. Eventually, that too was impossible. His feet slid out from under him and he landed hard on the gravel covered asphalt.

Then everything went dark.

~*~
​

Leon came to with a groan. All he immediately registered was that he was cold, his head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton puffs, there was a metallic taste in his mouth, and his wrist burned. He shivered and curled around himself, tucked his chin into his chest and tried to will himself warm. When that didn't work, he forced his eyes open, but all he could see was grey and he scrunched them closed, then opened them again to blink rapidly until his vision cleared.

It was still grey. The ceiling, the walls, even the cold fucking floor. Grey. He shook his head, his still foggy and useless head, and realized there was a small metal frame bed attached to the wall, and near that, a metal sink and toilet.

They put a fucking toilet in here, Rita. A toilet.

He pushed himself upright and when the room stopped spinning, he stared at the toilet with thinned lips. The longer he stared, the faster his breathing became, and by the time he tore his eyes away to look at the corner of the room with the rectangular box and camera within that observed him impassively, his whole body rocked with the rapid movement of his lungs.

This had to be a dream. Some fucked up, dark dream, where if he just made himself concentrate on Rita, on her next to him, her head tucked perfectly under his chin, his arms around her, he could pull himself out.

But even when he clenched his eyes closed and forced his scrambled mind to focus on those things, the walls were grey when he opened them again.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Fuck."

His shoulder ached when he looked down at his outfit, a white t-shirt and navy sweatpants instead of the clothes he'd had on after he'd finished his run with Nate. Around one wrist was thin silver band without a clasp; there wasn't a beginning nor end to the link, and he had no clue how it'd gotten around his wrist if it couldn't be opened in the first place. He pushed at it with a fingertip and hissed when it caused an audible sizzle as it burned him at both points of contact.

Leon clamored to his feet, stumbled to the clear viewing panel at the front of the room, and pressed his face against it as he looked out. Two Enforcers stood posted across the hall and looked on as impassively as the camera in the corner of the room.

Of his containment unit.

"Hey!" He smacked his hand against the glass hard enough to make it sting, and still, they looked on with their gazes fixed ahead of them.

His stomach dropped to his feet, then his heart fell into that empty space.

This was no dream.

 

[Meraki]

It was a rough ride.

With her hands shackled behind her back, mouth taped shut and chained to the floor of the van, Rita could hardly move from her spot. She was still weak, incredibly weak from the blood loss and her vision swam every so often, only for her to feel a painful smack against her cheek from the nameless Enforcer sitting in the back with her, ensuring that she was awake for every agonizing moment of the day long drive. She was nearly unconscious by the fine the van stopped for the final time and they unchained her, but left everything else and dragged her out of the vehicle. Her knees gave out under her own body weight and one of the men hoisted her up roughly and threw her over his shoulder as they made their way back into the dangerously familiar building.

The facility.

She could feels eyes on her as they walked in with her, jeers and comments about the infamous Rita Mason. It did not last long, however, as they quickly took her down into the underbelly of the facility where most of the supernaturals were kept and took her into one of the containment units. They set tossed her down into a chair and she felt a hand in her hair yank her upright enough so someone else could make to remove the weighted shackles from her wrists. They were raw already, red from the tightness of the restraints, but it was quickly replaced with the feeling of rope. It was tied tightly around her wrists before they moved up to bind her elbows painfully behind her back. Not only were they knotted impossibly tight, but she could not even find the strength to wiggle her fingers. It seemed they had learned from last time.

This time, they had no intentions of letting her live. Rita knew that before they even managed to get to the facility.

The duct tape was ripped from her lips which caused her eyes to shoot open and a wave of consciousness hit her. But without a word, they secured her feet as well and left her alone in the grey room. It wasn't so different than the last time they'd been held here against their will, but Rita noticed a screen in the corner of the room, separated into three feeds. Three different rooms. Leon. Fuck, fuck fuck. Rita pulled against her restraints but yelped out in pain at the feeling of her skin tearing against the tight rope. In one frame was Leon banging against the glass, panic clear in his expression. The other two were of Becca and Nate, both still unconscious in their respective cells. The Enforcers had found them all it seemed. But what of Orvar? Rita felt her heart sink as she remembered the pain he endured at the hand of the UV bullets. They couldn't have gotten him too, could they?

The door opened and in walked one of her old co-workers. His name was Logan, one of Jackson's best friends, and Rita watched as he immediately came up to her and reeled his fist back before sending her head snapping to the side from impact. Rita could taste blood in her mouth at the feeling and looked back up at him as he spoke. "Dr. Jenny said to keep you entertained until she can get here," he seethed as he crouched down enough to grab her jaw and keep her gaze on him, "Said if you were going to betray us all, we all deserved a chance at your punishment."

"Do you know what the usual punishment for treason is?"

Rita did not break his gaze, everything about her still intimidating despite her incapacitated state. "Death?"

"Yeah," he replied, "but after Alice? After Jackson? We're not just going to kill you. We are going to break you bit by bit until you understand that no one, I mean no one, fucks with the Enforcers. Especially some righteous werewolf fucking bitch. Then, we're going to give you what traitors deserve."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night? To make yourself feel better for the lie you're living?"

The sound of air expelling painfully from Rita's lungs filled the room as Logan punched her in the stomach. "Same old Rita," he smirked and got close to her face, "If you so much as even budge from this chair, every single one of them will be killed. Do you understand me?"

"You've over explained plenty," she growled, "I've got it."

"You always had a lot of fight in you. I used to admire that, you know. Jackson used to say you were the hardest working Enforcer in the damn building. He was right too, until you went and let yourself get caught up with a fucking werewolf. Is it worth it, Rita? The sex that good? You like it doggy style?"

"Should say something," she replied, "that I would rather sleep with a werewolf than you or Jackson."

Another hit.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you. You're popular around the office nowadays. I'm sure as hell not the last one you'll see today. If you wanna make it until sunrise, I'd keep that pretty mouth of yours shut and take what's coming to you. But that's my cue." He stepped away from her and released her jaw as he grabbed the remote and turned the sound up on the monitor in her room. Suddenly, she could hear Leon and it all but broke her heart. She couldn't see a way out this time. They restraints were too tight, no gun, no strength in her tired bones, only the resounding pain from the hits Logan had taken. She would find a way, she had to.

Right? That was what she was good at, taking charge, leading the fight – but they didn't even know she was here. No one knew she was at the facility. No one knew she was alive. No one knew that Rita was sitting and watching as their fates unfolded on screen. Rita felt the anxiety well up in her chest painfully. What was she going to do? How were they going to win this time?

"Enjoy," Logan said as he exited the room and her eyes could focus fully on Leon. It was only when she saw a familiar flash of red hair on the screen did panic and rage well up in her. Fuck. FUCK. She thrashed against her restraints but nothing gave way. Nothing budged.

She was stuck as Lorelei entered Leon's cell.

 

[Acorn]

Nearly three years ago, he'd reached out to his old high school buddies, suggested a camping trip so they could all catch up, and he'd reserved their spot at a campground. He'd been entirely responsible for them being where they had been when a werewolf had ended up in their campsite, chased down and tore all three of his friends apart — all before Leon had shaken himself enough from his drunken stupor to figure out how to get his tent unzipped. He'd called it a night before they had because he'd decided to play drinking games with Steve; eight shots in and he'd been drunk and Steve had been tipsy (they'd laughed at him and called him a lightweight and he'd denied it while throwing up, making them laugh even harder).

They'd still been sitting around the campfire when he'd staggered into his tent, and that's where they'd been when the werewolf showed up. Guess he filled up on them before he got a hold of you, one of the Enforcers had said, laughing, fucking laughing, as they wrapped a tourniquet around his mangled arm, then bundled him off to their base.

His guilt had been strongest the first two years, and he'd seen being transferred closer to the facility as punishment — his penance. Before each full moon, he'd been expected to show up at the facility and was locked away for the duration of his transformation so he couldn't hurt anyone. He'd gone above and beyond what they'd requested, and had always shown up an hour or more earlier than he'd been scheduled.

Life had gone on as normally as it could, with only a brief monthly interruption, until the one night he'd misjudged time so grievously that he'd ended up shifting outside of the facility. Then, he'd become a permanent resident because he couldn't be trusted to bring himself in. Before that, the containment units he'd stayed in had all been empty concrete rooms, but the one he'd been in for over a month during his captivity had been identical to the one he was in now, and was equipped with a toilet, sink, and bed. The only thing missing in his new unit was a table and chair.

Given the lack of suitable sitting places, Leon eventually made his way to the bed attached to the wall when he realized that no matter how hard he banged at the door or how much he yelled, the Enforcers across the hall would continue to ignore him. He'd spent countless hours exactly as he was now: sitting back far enough on the bed that the backs of his knees hit the edge of the small mattress, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and his fingers dug into his hair as he cradled his head and stared dejectedly at the concrete floor between his bare feet.

Except back then, Rita would sometimes come in and sit with him. God, what did Rita think? How long had he been gone? Was she out searching for him? He'd told her he'd be right back, but they'd found and taken him. Nate was probably there, too, unless he'd somehow managed to escape. Nate was fast in werewolf form, but he didn't know he could've outrun whatever they'd hit him with. Unless they hadn't been aiming for him. He couldn't imagine Jenny skipping out on a chance to take in two stray werewolves in one swoop, though.

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in slowly, then exhaled, but it did nothing for the feeling that made him want to pace and scream, throw whatever was in arm's reach. Neither did hearing the lock release from the door, nor seeing Lorelei's smirking face greet him when he looked up from his hands.

"Welcome home, puppy," she said, her husky voice saccharine sweet. "I've missed you."

"Fuck you," he said, and was pleased his voice didn't tremble like his hands did.

"That's no way to speak to a lady. Didn't your mother teach you any better than— Oh, that's right. Mommy left." She made an exaggeratedly sad face, then brightened and gestured at him. He felt like strings had been attached to him and he was yanked up and onto his feet, then back down hard onto his knees. "That's okay. I'm here now."

Lorelei began chanting and he looked at her in horror as his insides shifted and his bones twisted. Pain surged through him, burning hot like lava. He wanted to fall to his side, curl into a tight ball and wait for it to pass, but her magic held him upright on his knees. She grinned, her lips peeled back to reveal the whites of both rows of teeth, and then laughed when it became too much and he cried out.

"You're out of practice, aren't you?" The witch, in order to stop and taunt him, had stopped chanting and Leon was given a moment's reprieve. He sucked in a lungful of air that he let loose in a series of hacking coughs. Blood came up, spattered on the floor in a bright burst of color in the otherwise monochrome room. She began chanting again and the pain returned; it felt like it had before he'd learned to control his transformations, just before his bones would break to rebuild him into his wolf form.

Suddenly, the strings attached to him disappeared and he collapsed onto his side like he'd wanted and he curled into a fetal position. The chanting stopped, but the pain lingered. He coughed again and more blood came up. Her black heels came into his field of vision and she prodded at his wrist, the one with the silver band, with her pointed toe. "I can't make you shift with that on, but neither can you. Unless you want to keep grinding up your innards, then by all means."

She kneeled down next to him, reached out to brush aside some of the curls that had fallen onto his brow, but he didn't have the capacity to reach up and push her away. "Sit tight, sweetheart. I need to say hello to your better half."

His better half? Rita? They had Rita? They couldn't have Rita. He'd left her in New Orleans, in the heart of rebel territory under Orvar's protection. There was no way the Enforcers would've gotten to her. He scrabbled at the floor, trying to right himself, and Lorelei stood then stepped back. She laughed when he collapsed back to the ground and another series of hacking coughs shook his body.

"Silver keeps you from healing, too," she said, and without being able to see her face, he knew she smiled.

She left, but he couldn't lift his head to watch— he only heard the click clack of her heels, the lock releasing, then the door closing again behind her.

"Fuck," he groaned.

 

[Meraki]

Rita had nightmares. It was not news to anyone, as they had plagued her long before she met Leon. First of Chase's death, then of Leon's torture, and it had nearly broken her in Texas. Since then, she had been plagued with a few that simply ended with a few loving kisses and tight, comforting cuddles that reminded her she was not alone. Leon had gotten good at dealing with them after all this time and they were unspoken between them. Just the occasional happenstance. But some nights she dreamed of Leon and Lorelei still – the sight of him at her mercy over and over, but her gun doesn't go off or the restraints are too tight. Something goes wrong and Rita is powerless, unable to protect Leon when it counted most.

Up until that day, it had just been a terrible nightmare. But quite suddenly it was a heart wrenching reality.

What killed her most was not the blood that sputtered up from his lips, but the way his entire body went rigid at the mention of her. It was so like him to focus on her over anything, but she knew what she was. She was leverage, a way to break him and once it happened, they would kill her. There was no hesitation this time, no doubt. Rita knew that unless a miracle happened soon, she would not live to see another sunrise. So she tugged at her restraints and nothing gave way, all it served to do was tear up the skin on her hands and elbows. She could already feel them numbing at the sensation of being tied tightly in such an uncomfortable position. What could she do?

Fucking hell, what could she do?

The nausea bubbled up inside her as a wave of dizziness fell over her from the after effects of the blood loss and she shook her head to clear everything from her mind. They needed Leon, Nate and Becca. They needed them. There was still hope for them, still a chance they could get free. Maybe Rita could hold their attention long enough that they could manage a plan, but she didn't know where they were. They could have been just around the way or across the entire facility. Would they be able to find one another? Would Becca know how to neutralize the effect of silver? Anxiety continued to well up in her until Rita felt desperation climbing up in her throat.

She was powerless. This was exactly what they wanted. Exactly what Lorelei and Jenny fucking wanted and they had succeeded. More than succeeded, they had taken the upper hand.

Rita watched as Lorelei left his room and she felt the rage bubble up inside her. She hoped Lorelei would come here next so she could rip that fucking red hair one strand at a time from her head. There was no telling what she would do to a new werewolf like Nate and while Leon had endured Lorelei's torture before, there was no part of Rita willing to let it continue. She just wanted to make it all stop, to get them all home, but every time she tried to formulate a plan she came up blank.

There was no way for this to work where she survived, too.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, Rita heard the click of heels against the floor as they entered her room and Rita's eyes snapped up to find Lorelei there with a smirk glued to her lips. It was exactly what she wanted – Rita powerless, bound and forced to watch everyone she loved suffer. To watch Rita break seemed to be one of her favorite pastimes.

Rita spoke low and even, her tone menacing, "You better fucking hope these ropes don't give way."

 

[Acorn]

"I appreciate the attempt to be threatening, darling," Lorelei said as she moved to stand next to Rita's chair. She reached over to curl a long strand of dark hair around her finger, but looked on at the monitor that still displayed Leon and the others.

Leon hadn't moved from the position on the floor Lorelei had left him in. Becca was still unconscious, though the young witch looked as if she was sleeping peacefully of her own accord, rather than knocked out by a tranquilizer dart. Whoever had taken her to her containment unit had put her in bed and even tucked her in. Nate, on the other hand, had been tossed as unceremoniously to the floor as Leon had been, and he stirred as they watched. Groggy confusion was written on the werewolf's face as he sat up and looked around the room. Sound was still tied to Leon's feed, but his mouthed, "what the fuck," came across clearly.

She turned towards Rita, her lower lip caught up in her teeth. The finger she had in Rita's hair was lined like a spool of yarn, and with a quick yank, she pulled it from her head. The witch brought her other hand up and wrapped the remaining bit of hair around her finger, then pulled it off into her palm. She said nothing of what she'd done, instead she moved to stand in front of Rita, then pressed two fingers against her forehead like she had the night of the investor's ball. Rather than forcing her to watch videos of the men she loved being tortured or killed, though, she murmured a string of words in a language spoken only by witches and inserted herself into Rita's mind.

She riffled through her memories like she'd riffle through a filing cabinet, picking through folders and throwing aside the ones that didn't interest her. The ones that did interest her, she held open and skimmed over. Images flashed, of Leon first, because he'd most recently been in Rita's thoughts, but also of Becca, Nate, and Orvar. Orvar. Interest piqued. Extra crispy. Hidden away. Healing. Right under their noses. Jenny would be pleased. Lorelei shared something with Rita, then. The old house with the old oak trees. Enforcers returning, stomping downstairs as they'd stomped upstairs, door opening. Orvar dragged out onto the lawn and left to bake in the sun.

Blackened, charred, gone.

Lorelei extracted herself from Rita's mind and withdrew her fingers from her forehead. "That man is a menace. He shouldn't have survived those bullets. We'll be able to finish the job now, thanks to you. And to think, you're not even on the payroll anymore."

The witch stepped aside and looked at the monitor again. Leon had managed to get himself into a sitting position and had one arm hooked on the bed. He breathed hard, his inhales wheezes and his exhales coughs that left his lips red tinged. His face took on a determined look and he twisted his upper body and flung his other arm onto the bed, then pushed himself up enough that he was able to drag himself off the cold concrete floor.

"That's why I like him so much," Lorelei said in conversational tones, "he always gets back up." She glanced sidelong at Rita. "Except when he doesn't think he has you."

 

[Meraki]

The feeling of Lorelei in her mind made bile rise in Rita's throat. It was a churning feeling, like the worst migraine seared into the entirety of her skull. Her eyes rolled back as she saw flashes of what Lorelei pulled foreword. Images of Leon, of Nate and Becca – their stories – but she settled on Orvar. No, no, no. Rita tried to pull her thoughts from Lorelei's grasp but the redhead just held on with a painful vice grip. They could see Orvar, see what the bullets had done to him, and where he was hidden in the house. All it would take was a day for them to get there. One day.

And then Lorelei brought fear to the forefront of her mind: the image of Orvar burning in the sun. She could feel the heat, taste the awful smell of burnt flesh on her tongue and it infiltrated her nostrils. The bile rose up higher and higher, threatening to empty the contents of Rita's stomach but she swallowed it down hard when Lorelei finally let go and left Rita panting. The image of Orvar blackened and dead on the ground radiated through her mind and would not ebb no matter how hard she blinked her eyes. Lorelei's voice felt lightyears away when she spoke at first, but when Rita registered that she was speaking of Leon, she managed to tune in just enough to catch her last comment.

He always gets back up. Except when he doesn't think he has you.

"No," Rita breathed out, her breaths labored, "Don't you fucking dare."

She was going to kill her, again, but Lorelei wouldn't make the same mistake. No, Rita was certain that this time she would manage to get under Leon's skin and make him believe. There was no reason not to. He knew she was in the facility, it wouldn't be difficult to stage her death. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She thrashed against her restraints, and her voice rose in volume as she felt panic rise up in her. "Don't you touch him, I swear," she growled, her voice carrying powerfully through the room, "I will fucking kill you myself if you hurt him. LORELEI!" Rita screeched out her name and she watched as the redhead rolled her eyes but wore an amused smirk. She waved a hand and the duct tape on the table in the far corner moved and a strip firmly clasped over Rita's mouth and silenced her.

"Shhh," she ran her fingers tenderly over Rita's cheeks, "save some for later."

Without another word, she clicked out of the room in her heels and left Rita thrashing against her restraints. The rope had already started to dig into her skin, pulling up blood in places from all the friction. Rita fought and fought until her muscles cried out and as she thrashed, she felt the chair tilt beneath her and suddenly it clattered to the side, sending Rita onto her shoulder and side with a sickening thump. Immediately, she felt her shoulder dislocated and she screamed behind the tape, though it was a muffled, heartbroken sound. The Enforcers outside of her room did not even move to set her back upright until they entered a bit later. One of them hoisted the chair painfully back onto four legs before taking a few cheap shots at her. They set the television to Nate's feed and Rita knew the show was changing.

By now, most of the exposed skin on her body was covered in blood, cuts or bruises – but the pain was enough to make Rita's vision fuzzy at the edges. That is, until she heard a pained cry. It was from Nate, as the silver burned his skin. Lorelei was there, laughing and smiling as she contorted his insides and sent him crashing to the ground. She called him a new plaything, the runt of the litter, and all the while he laughed. There was blood sputtering up from his lips. "All powerful fucking witch, huh?" Nate spat at her, "so tell me why two wolves and a woman give you so much damn trouble. Doesn't seem too all powerful to me."

Then the crackling of bones and boiling of insides until he was on the ground again, but not for long.

"I just imagined you differently, that's all," he bit through the pain, "less old."

Another broken and mended bone.

It was only after another fit of laughter from Nate did Lorelei mention Becca. His eyes snapped up and Lorelei laughed a breathy, "Oh, you didn't know she was here? All three of you."

"Where's Rita?" he growled and Lorelei gave a smirk. Immediately, Nate stood and ran at her, but she had him crippled to the ground before he could make any distance. She clicked her tongue in disapproval, telling him that she had personally taken care of Rita. The way all mothers should be taken care of. Then Lorelei's two fingers touched Nate's forehead, sending his eyes rolling back, but Rita could see his body shudder and the tears pouring from his eyes long before Lorelei gave way.

Rita didn't have to be a psychic to know what she showed him. It was probably of Lorelei shooting Rita point blank between the eyes, much in the same way Nate had watched his own mother die. And the image left him curled up on the ground, no comments from him for a moment, before she saw the rage fill his eyes. He lunged at her again and she waved her hand, bringing a chain up from the floor of the unit to magically attach to his wrist cuff. But he yanked and yanked against it until the sound of his sizzling flesh was too much for Rita to stomach.

The Enforcers moved to turn the television back to Leon's feed and left her alone with nothing but the sound of Leon's labored breathing filling the room. Every once in a while she brought herself to look at Nate who had still not stopped fighting against his restraints though Lorelei had excused herself. It shattered her heart and there was nothing she could do. One by one, Lorelei would kill Rita off in front of the people she loved before returning to see the job done. At least if she had been killed, she wouldn't have had to watch this – others openly mourning her. It should have made her feel loved, but it shattered her resolve bit by bit. It was a kind of pain she had never felt before.

Hours passed, maybe days, Rita didn't know. She could feel the angry bruises rising on her skin and her arms were crying out for any relief. Her shoulder was still dislocated, but for the next few hours, she measured the time by the Enforcers who came in one by one to take shots at her. Each and every one of them making mention of her traitorous ways and with every hit it got harder to hang on. The pain was overwhelming, the discomfort, and she wondered how long it would go on. Every once in a while she looked up to Leon on the monitor and mentally apologized over and over again. The tears streamed down her face every so often, making the skin there dry and uncomfortable.

Her only solace came from the thought that maybe Lorelei forgot her plans for Leon as she toyed with Nate, but in a split second, she knew she was wrong. Her eyes snapped to the image of Leon as she watched his expression change at a sight outside of his containment unit. But it took Rita a moment to realize she was watching herself.

And her heart stopped.

 

[Acorn]

Yelling punctuated by gunfire outside his containment unit startled Leon from the shallow sleep he'd managed to drift into. His heartbeat pounded loudly in his chest and head as adrenaline rushed through him, making him able to push past his weakness to lever himself up from the bed and swing his legs over the edge. The two guards, who Leon had convinced himself might actually be statues, had their guns out and were screaming at a point just out of his line of sight.

Leon's confusion didn't have long to fester because he saw Rita then, long hair wild, a gun of her own lifted and trained on the closest guard. He surged to his feet. The pain that centered in his chest, making each breath a struggle, was pushed aside, and he stumbled towards the clear viewing panel with his arms wrapped around his middle. She said something indiscernible and the guard screamed back, but his companion placed a hand on his arm and pulled a lanyard from around his neck with a security card attached, then held it out to Rita. She snatched the card and turned her back on the guards, her gaze flitting to him before she lifted it towards the security pad on the wall.

Before she could complete the motion that would release the lock to his door, there were multiple gunshots, and Rita's eyes grew wide as points of red blossomed on the fabric of her shirt, all centered on her chest.

"Rita!" Leon made it to the glass as she crumpled to the ground. "Rita, no. No, no, no." He slid down onto his knees next to her. "You gotta get up. Get back up. Please, Rita. Get up." She had to get up, they were coming, they were going to kill her. The guards had moved closer with their guns aimed at her. Rita stirred, and his heart became light with hope but crashed to the ground in a burning heap when they unloaded another series of bullets into her body.

He made a strangled noise and collapsed next to her. Her vivid green eyes were bright with pain, but she saw him and they warmed. She stirred again, but it was the slightest of movements; she'd only needed to lift her fingers to the glass. His chin dimpled and his nostrils flared as wetness streaked down his face, and he lifted his hand to press his fingers against the same points as she had.

The light went out of her eyes and her hand fell.

Pain crawled into his chest, wrapped around his heart, and it clenched so tight he couldn't breathe.

"Rita," he finally choked out, "you can't. You can't go. I need you." But she was already gone. Her eyes were empty, her chest unmoving, and blood pooled around her. "Please," he whispered, his fingers still against the glass.

A sob caught in his throat, made him gag as it struggled to work its way back up and out of his mouth. It was difficult to see past the constant stream of tears, but eventually, Leon realized there were more people outside the containment unit. A man in a lab coat. A black bag. Like the bag they'd put Alice in. The man crouched next to Rita, reached down to press his fingers against her neck, then pulled back the sleeve of his white coat to check the watch on his wrist. Another man nodded and wrote something down on a clipboard. While Leon watched on in stricken silence, they placed the bag next to Rita then shifted her into it.

Leon sat up, pounded on the glass with the meaty side of his fist. "No! You can't— Don't take her. Please. I need to see her. I need to—" He needed to feel the weight of her in his arms, even if she couldn't hold him back, even if she was cold and unmoving. He needed to hold her. They didn't even glance at him as they began zipping the bag up. He kept his eyes on her face, her still open eyes, and for a moment, he fooled himself into thinking she'd turn her head and smile at him, but she remained pale and motionless until they'd closed the bag entirely.

They took her away and his heart went with her.

 

[Meraki]

That was it.

Rita felt her body wrack with sobs as she watched Leon. He crumpled broken and desperate, his voice echoing through her cell. Rita. The sound of her name on his lips was enough to shatter everything in her and she went slack against her restraints. She stopped fighting and all she could do was watch Leon slip his hands against the glass and beg to see her. She knew his pain all too well, it was the same pain that had nearly destroyed her life before he came into her life and showed her the light. In that moment, she knew. She knew that she did the exact thing for Leon and to watch that light go out in his eyes was more than heartbreaking. She would have done anything to not experience that pain, even let Lorelei kill her.

Because this? This was a pain worse than death.

She was powerless. Completely and utterly. Leon was broken, Nate still thrashing in his cell, and Rita didn't have a single chance to get away and get to them. She had no way of letting them know she was alright. She could not comfort Leon, pull him in her arms and promise she was alive. She could not comfort him with slow, gentle kisses or tender touches. No matter how many times she blinked and hoped that she would wake to him curled around her, she knew that she was not dreaming. The world they lived in was cold and dark, but he was light.

Lorelei would pay. Jenny would pay.

For so long Rita had tried to be the diplomatic one, to find a way around a fight at all costs, but there was nothing to be done. There was no reasoning with them, no agreeing to terms. It was kill or be killed and Rita would be damned if she let Becca, Nate or Leon lose their lives to two fucking madwomen who thought that humanity was weak and easily-manipulated. She would get to Leon, she would find the others, she would endure this for however long she had to because they were not going to break and destroy her family. Not now that she finally found it.

The tears just kept pouring down her cheeks, sobs wracking in her chest though the duct tape still covered her mouth. Her body was slumped, defeated, despite her thoughts. Almost like clockwork, Logan came in to rip the duct tape from her mouth. This time, she did not flinch, and the pain meant nothing. Absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of it all. All she wanted was Leon, all she could see was him when she closed her eyes and all she could hear were his sobs and begging cries over the speakers. Without a word, he walked behind her to work at her restraints. She felt cold handcuffs on her hot skin before he worked off the ropes and let her arms free. "Why?" Rita said, but her voice was a hoarse whisper.

"Dr. Jenny says it'll cut off your circulation."

A break then. She felt like there wasn't an ounce of strength left in her, but just as he moved to untie her feet, Rita felt the adrenaline kick in at the sound of Leon's sobs. She brought her leg up and cracked her shin against Logan's nose before forcing herself to the ground so she could pull her hands beneath her feet and in front of her. With a painful yank, Rita's already bloody wrist slipped through the handcuff and left the other dangling on her left wrist. She grabbed Logan's keycard, crashing her way out of the room. He was unarmed, a mistake but she understood why. If she were to get her hands on a gun right now, she would unload every last fucking bullet into Lorelei. She didn't even make it ten feet before a sea of Enforcers came after her and she was surrounded. Each with their gun raised like they were going to shoot her, but she knew that wasn't their endgame. No, they needed her to suffer entirely.

At the very least, Rita looked up and found one of the ceiling fans and moved towards it. If she could get close enough, between that and the vent maybe she could – fuck.

Everything in her went rigid, her muscles seizing and eyes rolling back. The worst, burning pain seared through her and shook her to the very core of her being. She felt the point of impact on her back and when it pulled away, she collapsed and saw the Taser that Logan held in his hand. Her exhausted muscles gave out, her shoulder screamed out in pain and they spared no chance to be rough with her. Hands groped at her, tearing her hands back behind her back, tying them in place. They dragged her back to the room, leaving the slightest trail of blood before they tossed her back into the chair and secured her feet to it, this time and used her escaped handcuffs to keep her ropes secured to the metal bars of the chair.

Logan walked back up to her, the Taser being pressed into her neck and the jolt nearly stopped her heart at the conductivity of her body against the chair. A scream erupted from her throat, tinged red from the beating she had endured and Logan pulled back away with a smirk on his face despite the blood gushing from his broken nose. "We'll just let your arms fucking fall off then," he growled.

"Next time," Rita breathed out painfully, "I'm going to break both your fucking arms. I promise."

"Next time," he crouched down enough to grab her hair and look her dead in the eye, "I'm going to be the last fucking thing you see before you die. Got it?"

Rita spat at him, and Logan backhanded her before slipping out of the room. And still, all she could hear was the sound of Leon echoing through the small room. God, she couldn't give up. She had to get to him. She had to.

/

Lorelei had killed her.

Nate finally collapsed against the ground in exhaustion and pain as the bracelet seared off most of the upper layer of skin on his arm. It ached, his mind felt fuzzy and he couldn't find the strength to stand. He had watched Lorelei take the gun to Rita's head, the image of her skull exploding out the back with the impact of the bullet and drenching the wall behind it. Then she collapsed, like a sack of potatoes against the ground with her big green eyes open. Fucking hell, Leon. He had to find Leon. He had to find Becca.

Then he would see to it that he ripped Lorelei's throat out with his teeth.

Suddenly he felt everything magnify, his senses enhanced as the lights buzzed and his teeth snarled. If he tried to transform here, that cuff would end up killing him, but he felt it. The rage in him was pulling the beast forward and he couldn't fight it. He didn't want to fight it. So what if that cuff fucking killed him, at least they couldn't use him. They couldn't manipulate him. That's what Rita would want, right? For him to not give in to Lorelei's fucked up whims and fight the good fight?

Hell, she had fucking done it over and over and over again.

And he would never see her again.

His mind always reeled back to the moment he told her he wished she would get caught by the Enforcers and while she had long since let him off the hook for it, he never let himself off the hook. He should have done something. Leon was his pack, so was Becca, and Rita was the closest damn thing he had to a mother in the world and she was gone. He shouldn't have left that house. Fuck, he was a fast little shit and he should have run to them. He should have protected them the way Leon always protected them.

His nostrils flared and eyes fell into slits as the dial increased and increased until the cuff started burning with such a ferocity he swore it would set him on fire. He wanted to hunt. He wanted to hunt down Lorelei and every single person who came after them. He wanted to –

Flowers.

Nate immediately felt his mind relax for a moment at the scent in his heightened state. He glanced up at the air vent. It was faint, so faint that he swore he was dreaming, but there it was. He recognized that scent and it sure as hell wasn't a corpse. Flowers. It was Rita. Rita was alive somewhere. She had to be.

"Rita?" he murmured and glanced outside his unit, but there was only the guard.

It was small, but it was just the sign he needed.

 

[Acorn]

Leon remained sitting with his side pressed into the glass after they took Rita. He looked on dully as someone came with a mop and bucket to clean the blood — her blood — from the floor, erasing the last trace that remained of her. Every time he was sure he'd exhausted his ability to cry, he'd think about her face, her beautiful face, all the life gone from it, and he'd find that the reservoir of his despair was deep, and he had plenty of tears left to shed.

He'd never feel her lips on his again, or her fingers on his face; he'd never see the way her eyes lit up when she turned to see him standing there, just behind her. She'd never slip into his arms and look up at him, her big green eyes loving and inviting him to lean down and capture her mouth in a kiss. He hadn't been able to tell her he loved her before she'd faded away. He hadn't even been able to touch her, just the glass between them.

Leon scooted away from the glass wall until his back hit cold concrete.

He would've gone to the bed, but he knew he'd see her there, feel her sitting next to him, her leg pressed against his, her hand on his and squeezing it reassuringly. He'd sit there, and she'd come through the door with a smile and offer to join him in the cafeteria. They'd go, and he'd forget for a time that he was a prisoner; it'd be just him and Rita. Everything else would fade away. Tears trekked down his face and his chest lifted and fell in great heaves, then shuddered with coughs that brought metallic tasting blood up from his lungs. He ran the back of his hand across his mouth and dimly registered red streaked across his skin as he dropped his arm.

He looked up, eyes heavy and breathing through his mouth because his nose was so thick with snot that not even a molecule of oxygen had a hope of getting through, when the door to his unit opened and Lorelei breezed in.

"Puppy, I just heard," she said, rushing over to him. Leon closed his eyes, opened them, yet the witch remained. Her face was a perfect mask of concern and sympathy. "It must be hard, knowing she died trying to get to you."

Leon shook his head at Lorelei, breathed an abrupt, disbelieving laugh that ended in a cough.

"Go away, Lorelei," he said, his voice gravelly and tired.

The redhead's eyes flashed dangerously, and she flicked her hand at him, but when the pain came he welcomed it. She crushed his insides, twisted and snapped his bones, but it was something to focus on besides the fact that Rita was dead. She was fucking dead and she wasn't coming back.

When she released him from her pain-inflicting spells, he fell to his side and groaned.

"Just fucking do it," he muttered. "Get it over with."

Lorelei smirked up at the camera in the corner of the room. "Not yet," she said. She walked towards him, leaned down when she reached his side, and her hands glowed gold as she mended the bones she'd broken, but left his lungs just as damaged as they had been before she entered the room. "We still have a use for you." She came to her feet, and as she left the room, he turned over so he faced the stark grey wall and curled into himself.

He couldn't go through all this shit again. Not without Rita.

~*~
​

Becca woke with the biggest headache she'd ever had, and that included the time Nate had convinced her to try some of Rita and Leon's whiskey. She scrubbed her face, then stretched out and winced because it'd made her head shift around and her brain was all wobbly, bobbing around in her skull like die in a Magic 8-ball. Why did she feel so awful? Reply hazy, try again. She smacked her lips together and her tongue hit the roof of her mouth as she tasted a strange, metallic flavor, and when she brought her hand up again, this time to push back her hair from her face, she finally registered the dark grey shackle around her wrist. She brought her other hand up, and it was shackled, too.

Her mom had told her about iron, how it would block her magic, but she hadn't said anything about how it made her mouth fill up with the metallic taste of it or how her head would feel muddled, like she was hungover. She'd told her about the containment units, too, but she hadn't said anything about how small they actually were, or how there was nothing but grey, grey and more grey. Grey that made the already small room feel smaller, as if it'd keep moving in and crush her until she too was nothing but grey.

She pulled her sheet to her chin, like she used to when she'd been a little girl and convinced it'd keep her safe from the monsters under her bed.

It did nothing to ward her from the real monsters, though.

The door to her unit opened and Lorelei entered, dressed in a short black dress and heels, with her hair all pretty and curled. "Kitten," she said warmly, and Becca ducked her head and nearly pulled the sheet over her face, but her aunt tut-tutted at her and she froze. "Don't be silly. I'm only here to talk."

"Really?" Becca asked. "Even after the grimoire? And the part where I kind of kicked your ass?"

Lorelei's face twitched, her smile grew rigid, but she blinked and her friendly facade slipped back into place.

"We're family," she said, as if that was all the explanation Becca needed.

"Ooo-kay," Becca drawled, and sat up. "Since we're family and all, maybe you could start by telling me where all my friends are?"

"They're safe," Lorelei supplied quickly.

"Where?"

"Here, of course."

"I want to see them."

"Impossible."

Becca smiled. "I thought we were family."

"We are," Lorelei ground out, "but they're dangerous, sweetheart. That's why we needed to collect them again."

"Is that why I've got these on?" Becca lifted her hands and stared pointedly at the shackles on her wrists.

"Oh no, baby. Those are just a precaution. As soon as you agree to work with us, they'll come off."

"And that's why you're here to talk with me? To get me to… work with you?" Becca scoffed. "No way. Not after what happened to mom, not after what you did to Rita, and to Leon, and to Nate's family. I won't help you." She shook her head, and Lorelei's expression became pinched.

"You've spent a lot of time with them. I understand if your view of things is skewed. Let me show you what we know of your friends."

 

[Meraki]

"It must be hard, knowing she died trying to get to you."

Rita looked up helplessly at the screen. Her restraints were painful and body still reeling from the taser against her skin. Her heart beat painfully, her mind was hazy from the beatings, but those words registered in the silence of the cell. Lorelei had gotten more dangerous in their absence, it seemed. Leon wouldn't have believed her again if she'd just dragged a fake Rita into the room and killed her, no. Lorelei had concocted the perfect plan and she knew them. Both Lorelei and Leon knew that Rita would do anything to get to him, and so she took advantage of it. She took advantage of Rita's thought that she would do anything to get to Leon and it made rage bubble up inside of Rita.

She would still get to him and no fucking witch or vampire was going to stand in her way.

"Just fucking do it, get it over with."

Rita looked away from the screen, her heart breaking at the sound of Leon's voice. Every single pained moment hung heavily on her heart until she couldn't feel anything. She knew where he was – she knew that headspace – and she just wanted to reach through the screen and hold him. To kiss him and whisper promises to always be there. He just had to hold on, just a little bit longer, and she would figure something out. He wanted to die and she couldn't blame him, she would have too. If Lorelei had killed him in front of her, she would have broken and remained shattered. She would have begged for death. Just to see him again.

"I'm coming," she whispered to herself, "god, Leon I fucking promise."

Only moment later, the door to her cell opened up and standing there as if summoned by a fucking pentagram, was Jenny. She stood with three other Enforcers, Lorelei just off to her left gazing in contently at the sight she saw. Rita had to have looked rough, she felt rough, but the Enforcers moved with the graceful flick of Jenny's hand and they came up alongside her to untie her legs from the chair and release the handcuffs that kept her binds attached to the back. Her arms were still painfully tied behind her, shoulders black and blue. Most of her was, or covered in cuts and dried blood. They threw her from the chair and let her hit the floor painfully, her dislocated shoulder screaming out at the impact.

"Come along, Rita," Jenny's words were cold, perfunctory.

As if she wasn't dragging her to her death. Rita tried to move but the Enforcers were quick to drag her across the floor and out into the open. Outside of her cell there was an open center block, around which most containment units were located. It was a large space, rivaling the main lobby, but it was always empty. Even on full moons only a few Enforcers were placed down here, but that day there was an angry mob of Enforcers all just looking at her as she was dragged in front of them like a sacrifice. Lorelei ordered for her to be put on her knees and Rita looked up slowly at the audience in front of her.

This wasn't just a show, this was her execution.

"Does any work get done around here?" Rita breathed out painfully, but the tail end of an amused laugh erupted from her, "You have quite a bit of damn time to stand around in a mob."

"Rita Mason," Logan spoke – his nose haphazardly patched – with a powerful voice. "You have betrayed the Enforcers." A series of cheers erupted over the crowd and Logan smirked at her. "And do you know what we do to traitors?"

"Talk them to death?" Rita rolled her eyes.

A slap resounded through the space as Rita's head was knocked to the side by Logan's hand. "We are going to enjoy every minute of this."

"Logan," Jenny spoke, "Stand behind her and draw your gun."

Logan listened without hesitation and Rita felt Logan move behind her and raise his gun to the back of her head. "So that's it then?" Rita said finally, "you're just going to shoot me?"

"No," she replied, "if you fight back in any way, you will be shot."

"Fight ba—" Rita began to ask but was interrupted by a shift movement. An Enforcer came in and threw a punch at her jaw and knocked her back onto her side before another ran up and delivered a kick to her ribs. Immediately she cried out, but Logan just stood there waiting and watching for her. Every one of her muscles wanted to fight back. To kick or push herself up but it was impossible with her arms restrained like this and if she did, she would die. That was it. That's what Jenny's plan was. She was going to make Rita choose the moment of her own death.

The onslaught continued as she was yanked up onto her feet by her hair only to be sent back down to her knees. She felt a taser pressed into her again, held and the voltage was enough to nearly knock her out immediately. When they pulled away, her head bobbed in and out of consciousness, but another Enforcer came up to pull her hair back and slap her away a few times before sending another kick to her ribs. And another, another, another – one broken rib.

Thud.

Two broken ribs.

Thud.

Three.

Rita looked up through the blood dripping from a wound on her forehead. Her breathing was heavy, ragged and she couldn't even find the strength to speak. She saw Lorelei with an amused smirk on her face as if this was the greatest spectacle she could have been granted permission to watch. Jenny, as always, looked on passively but there was a gleam of something in her eye. Satisfaction, maybe? This had all been because of her, because she sought out Rita, got Chase killed, and then played the part of an understanding doctor to Rita. Hell, Rita had talked to her before about the darkness she felt after losing Chase, and she could see it in Jenny now. She wanted Rita to relive that darkness.

Rita had gone from having the most promise to being the biggest threat in her eyes.

They came at her, the Enforcers, with everything they had. Their feet, their fists, the butts of their guns, tasers, knives, and when they ran out of options, they got creative. Logan kicked her over as another Enforcer held her, and a third pulled a knife to carve a traitorous "T" into her shoulder blade. Blood seeped out of her, bones broken, bruises swollen and decorating every inch of her, but she didn't give up. Through the screams of pain, she did not give up.

She held on for a miracle.

 

[Acorn]

Leon didn't move from the floor. Even when the cold dug its fingers into him and worked its way into his core, cooling him enough that he started to shiver, he didn't move. His tears had stopped at some point, but only because he'd finally hit the bottom of his reservoir and hadn't had any water to replenish it. His eyes felt like they'd been packed with sand, and his head was full of it, too. He still wheezed when he breathed, and occasionally he'd cough, but mostly he was silent. He stared at the wall and he was silent.

His mind wasn't, though.

First was the path of what-ifs. What if he'd waited to go on his run with Nate? What if he'd gone somewhere different? They'd been predictable. They'd gone to the same spot enough times in a row that the Enforcers had known where to find them. They'd known exactly where they'd be because he'd found a trail that made it easy to get to and from the car. He wouldn't have been captured, Rita wouldn't have been captured. What if he'd been stronger? What if Rita had known he was strong and didn't feel like she had to come for him, put herself at risk to save him from Lorelei? She'd known he needed her, she'd known he was weak, so she'd needed to save him.

He'd killed her.

Then was the path of what-might've-beens. They'd had a future together. He hadn't known for sure what that future would be — maybe they'd get a house together, just the two of them, and they'd argue over what color to paint the living room, but she'd bat her eyelashes and he'd decide it didn't really matter as long as she was happy. They'd do normal things, like go grocery shopping together, and they'd come home to make dinner, where the only real help he'd offer would be to hug her from behind while she cooked the way her mother had taught her. He'd give an unhelpful tip about stirring counterclockwise instead of clockwise and she'd roll her eyes playfully and laugh at him.

When he'd thought about the next week, the next month, the next year, and even the next decade, Rita had been there. He'd grown up without seeing what a husband was supposed to be to a wife, what a father was supposed to be to a child, but Rita would've been the one to see him through the unknown.

They would've floundered together.

And finally, the path of what-came-next. Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing here, at least. There was only emptiness without Rita. He wanted to go to her, but the only way he could do that was to die, and they weren't going to let him do that. They had a use for him. Whatever the fuck that meant. And even if he did die, would he end up with her? He'd killed Jackson. He'd murdered a man. He could ask for forgiveness, but he didn't feel sorry for what he'd done. He didn't picture a conversation with God ending well, anyway. What would he say to someone who'd given him something as beautiful and perfect as every moment he'd spent with Rita then ripped it all away from him? Nothing that would land him in the same place she'd gone.

His body had somehow found enough moisture to fill his eyes to the brink with tears. He only dislodged them when he blinked in response to the lock releasing from his door. Leon didn't bother looking to see who it was. The only person who'd visited him was Lorelei, and fuck if he'd waste the energy rolling over to see her smirking face.

"Oh my God, Leon." It was a high, sweetly feminine voice tinged with concern, real concern, not Lorelei's husky voice falsely lowered to mimic the feeling.

He didn't have a chance to move before he heard the slapping of bare feet on the concrete and her hands were on him. Becca's hands. How was Becca there? He had to be dreaming, but if he'd been dreaming, wouldn't he have dreamed of Rita? She was the one he wanted to see.

"Why isn't he saying anything? Leon? Leon, can you hear me? Are you okay?" Her words and hands were insistent, pulling at him until he was on his back. He stared up at her wordlessly.

"Leon?"

Someone else moved towards them, then grunted as they came to their knees next to Becca. It was a grey-haired woman with a face like a withered turnip.

"He'll be fine," Johanna said, "once you get the silver off him." She snapped her head around to Becca, who'd moved to hold her hands over his chest. "Well? Get to it! We need to move."

"Just a second," Rebecca said, distractedly, and her hands glowed gold and he could breathe cleanly again. Only then did her hands move to his wrist. She murmured some words he didn't recognize, and the silver band snapped open then clattered to the ground.

"Up you go," Johanna said, and moved around to hook him under his arms and shoved him with a surprising amount of strength into a sitting position. He slumped over, his head dangling forward listlessly, and held his hands in his lap.

"Come on," Becca said, tugging at his arm. "We have to go. We have to help Rita."

Leon lifted his head, shaking it slightly as he looked at her. "We can't help Rita, Becca," he said. "She's dead."

"No, she's not, but she's gonna be if you don't get up off your ass and come help us." Nate said from the doorway.

"But I saw—"

"What Lorelei wanted you to see," Becca interrupted gently.

He blinked at her. Rita had come for him, she'd been so close, but she'd turned her back on the guards to unlock his door and they'd shot her. They'd fucking killed her. Then they'd taken her away in a black bag and cleaned up the blood she left behind. Lorelei couldn't make all that up, could she?

They'd inserted enough doubt into him that he didn't resist Becca when she tugged on him again. He let them pull him to his feet and he moved along with them through the facility. Johanna split from the group at one point, saying she had some more doors to unlock, and she'd catch up later. He was numb, one foot moving ahead of the other without any thought to the direction they went. They seemed to think Rita would be at their destination, that she'd need their help, but he suspected that unless they were heading to the morgue they were just setting themselves up for disappointment.

He heard her screams before he saw her, and when he finally saw her he knew Nate had been right. She wasn't dead. Rita was alive. She was alive, but she was bloodied and bruised and broken enough that if he didn't get off his ass and help her, she wouldn't be for long.

There were easily two dozen Enforcers gathered around, jeering and stepping forward in groups to hold and hurt her, making her scream. Rage replaced emptiness, hot and volatile, making his transformation the fastest he'd ever managed.

Without a plan, without a thought, he surged into the crowd; biting, tearing, and clawing a path to Rita.

 

[Meraki]

"Just do it, Rita," Logan jeered, "all you've gotta do is ask."

"Like…fucking…hell," Rita breathed out shakily before screams ripped through her again at the feeling of someone yanking her up by her dislocated shoulder and throwing her to the ground. The kicks kept coming, one after the other until all of the pain melted together. There was no where the pain started or ended, it just radiated through her with such a ferocity it was hard to hold onto consciousness. If they kept this up with her ribs, they'd puncture her lungs and she wouldn't have much time, but then again – if they kept up with any of this, she would be dead in a matter of hours. They seemed to be resorting to inhumane tactics and she was held up by her hair alone when she first heard the blood curdling snarl from across the room.

Leon.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she knew if she moved to fight back, bullets would be buried in her brain, so she allowed them to take their hits until she could make out the image of Leon in werewolf form, tearing through the crowd. The Enforcer holding her up by her hair dropped her painfully to the floor and went to pull his gun and she watched from her peripherals as Logan's gun moved from its target on her to Leon. Rita swung her legs to catch Logan's knees and as the gun unloaded, it missed Leon and buried the bullets in the Enforcer who had her by the hair. The gun clattered out of his hands as she tried her best to move away from him. Nate ran between them in his werewolf form and engaged Logan for a moment.

"Oh my god, Rita," she heard a familiar voice come up behind her and a kind hand touch her shoulder. Rita turned her head to see Becca crouched down, a barrier of some sort protecting them for the moment, and she seemed to hover her hands over the battered and bruised skin. The young witch didn't seem to know what to heal first. "Just untie me," Rita breathed out shakily as the adrenaline rose in her body, "Then focus on Lorelei. If she gets involved, none of us are getting out of here alive."

Becca worked off the restraints but her eyes found the blood pouring from the branded and raw skin on her shoulder. "Rita—"

"Go," Rita told her gently before pushing herself standing. With one strong hit, her should cracked back haphazardly into place and she nearly bit her cheek so hard she could taste blood. "Worry about me later, okay?"

Rita ran into the fray, immediately catching punches and sending Enforcers into the ground and one another. She disarmed one, took the gun from his hand and sent him over her shoulder into the ground, knocking him out cold. The sound of gunfire was heard and Rita turned to see Logan taking shots at her, missing as she wove through Enforcers before she got close enough to disarm him. She moved quick and cracked his wrist back, pulling the weapon from his head and sending it to the ground before she caught his punch and twisted his other arm, the bone popping under the pressure. Logan immediately cried out and crumpled to the ground with his two broken arms and Rita grabbed his guns.

She didn't go back on promises, after all.

With a quick check of the magazines, Rita noted the normal bullets and this time in his second weapon, the same bullets she had pulled from Orvar's body. UV bullets. She glanced back at the sight of Jenny so far out of reach, but this could be her chance. If they could weaken Jenny, maybe they could take her out. Rita felt hands wrap around her to try and subdue her, but she sent an elbow back and crashed the butt of the gun against his skull, sending him to the ground in a heap. There were still so many left and everything was burning on her body. She wiped blood from her brow and took a labored breath before she kept fighting her way forward. Even with two werewolves, a witch and an ex-enforcer, the fight seemed nearly impossible.

But then, Nate made an opening. As he was growling, ripping and tearing his way through the crowd, he gave Rita an opening and she bolted as fast as she could carry herself through the opening. Rita raised both guns, one aimed at the Enforcers in her way and the UV bullets aimed at Jenny. At first, she thought the vampire would be too fast, but after a moment, Rita watched as the bullets sunk into her like a hot knife through butter. For the first time, Rita saw a reaction on Jenny's face.

But what she should have been worried about was the reaction on Lorelei's.

 

[Acorn]

It was chaos.

There were Enforcers everywhere. He tried to force his way to Rita, but as soon as he'd take one down, another would move into their place. Once the element of surprise had worn off, they also had to deal with the fact that they were up against men and women who'd trained extensively on how to take werewolves out. What they hadn't trained against, though, were two werewolves who had instincts of a wolf and the awareness of a human.

All their time spent running, chasing, and fighting each other had only made Nate and Leon a tighter team, and without needing to look for or signal to the other werewolf, they'd maneuvered into positions that allowed them to protect each other's backs. They worked together to close the distance between them and Rita, but they weren't making much progress. He snarled his frustration as he cut around an Enforcer and caught their wrist in his mouth and shook his head violently, forcing them to drop their gun before he tossed them aside.

As he desperately searched for a path that would get him to Rita the quickest, yet another Enforcer flanked him, but Nate was there and the Enforcer went down hard. He huffed his gratitude, but Nate wasn't looking at him. He followed Nate's gaze to a redheaded witch who, once this was all done and over with, would be given all the fucking Girl Scout cookies she wanted, because she'd managed to slip through the crowd and free Rita. He watched Rita for a moment longer, but when it quickly became clear she was holding her own, Leon returned his attention to the fight.

There was a flash of red across the floor, and his eyes came to rest on another redheaded witch, but this one caused a powerful growl to rumble through him. Lorelei. She'd hurt him, she'd convinced him Rita was dead, she'd made him mourn her and wish for his own death. He started towards the witch, but his gaze was inexorably drawn to Jenny next to her, her dark hair back in a tight bun and her face expressionless until there was gunfire and her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. Lorelei searched for the source of the bullets, her face a mask of rage and a scream on her lips.

Rita. She was looking at Rita.

Leon scrambled on all fours towards them, propelling himself past and over Enforcers to barrel into Lorelei before she could hurt Rita, but Jenny was suddenly between them and he slammed into her instead. It was like hitting a brick wall. Jenny didn't even budge from where he stood, but he fell back, skidding before he came to a stop. They stared at one another. He snarled and growled, and Jenny — someone he'd never seen crack a smile in the years he'd known her — laughed at him. With all the deliberate grace of a ballerina, the tall woman toed off her high heels to stand in front of him barefooted. Lorelei had spun and lifted a hand towards him, but Jenny shook her head and Lorelei frowned but lowered her hand.

"I will handle this," she said, and because he was used to the way Lorelei would take the time to taunt him, Leon was taken by complete surprise when the vampire said nothing more before she sped towards him, a blur he couldn't avoid, with fangs and fists he couldn't avoid.

Lorelei reached towards Rita, closed her hand, then yanked it back, and Rita went sailing the distance between them.

"You shouldn't miss this," she said to Rita after she froze her in place next to her with magic. "She's a tigress when she fights."

Jenny danced around him, slamming her fists into him with all the force of a dozen sledgehammers. She'd blast a fist into his head, leaving him dazed, then she'd slam into his unprotected stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. She was impossibly fast. It was like fighting the wind. He remained on the defensive, doing his best to block her attacks until they started to slow and he pounced on the opportunity to put her on the defensive. He snapped and snarled, circled and lunged, sometimes managing to graze her skin with his teeth or his claws.

Leon dropped to all fours at one point, caught an ankle in his mouth, then yanked her off-balance and to the ground. He was on her, pinning her in place, maw open and ready to close on her fucking face. There was chanting. He was thrown backward by a magical hand and he felt his insides twist, his bones break and shift, and he voiced his pain with a wolf-like yowl that ended in a human cry.

Jenny stood, brushed off the front of her dress, and walked towards him. Leon rolled onto his side, then pushed himself up into a sitting position, and tried to get to his feet while at the same time to focusing on shifting back, but she was on him. In his wolf form, he'd had a chance, he'd absorbed what blows he couldn't dodge, but in his human form he was fucked.

She reached down, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him, crushing his windpipe in her hand. He clutched at her wrist with both of his hands, tried to pull himself free, but it wasn't until she snarled and threw him towards the nearest wall that he was released. His back made contact with the concrete first, then his head, and it was like a thunderclap centered in his brain had gone off; it was the worst pain he'd ever experienced and it left him disoriented and unseeing.

He didn't rise when she approached. He didn't see when she pulled back her leg before she kicked him in the side, breaking off and forcing several of his ribs on one side into one of his lungs. He sucked in a gurgling breath of air and tried to roll away, but her foot was there again, this time to his shoulder, snapping something — his arm, the shoulder itself, something broke, and he cried out. Then again, his thigh, and again, something snapped, but this time he didn't cry out.

The pain, it was too much. It pulled him under and he didn't think he'd be able to climb his way out again.

"Now you get to watch him die, too," Lorelei said to Rita.

 

[Meraki]

It all went to hell in a fucking handbasket.

Rita shot off the bullets and watched as Lorelei's eyes closed into slits before her body was flying across the room. She clattered beside the witch, guns dropping from her hands as she held Rita in a magical vice grip at her side. Rita tried to move, to fight against her, but there was this inexplicable pressure on her bones that kept her in place. It hurt. All of a sudden she started to feel the very real pain that coursed through her body and she was unnaturally aware of the slow drips of blood from her skin as they hit the ground or slipped down her flesh. Leon ran and Rita watched as Jenny moved with all the grace of a ballerina. Back and forth it went, but Leon was always outmatched. Rita wanted to cry and scream and kick but there was nothing except the oppressive magical hold.

Tears welled in her eyes as she watched Jenny take hit after hit.

Until he stopped moving.

"LEON!" Rita screeched a horrible, broken sound as he shifted and Jenny moved to break bone after bone until he wasn't responding to her touches. This was not one of Lorelei's illusions – no, she knew that Leon. She had traced the intricacies of his scars for hours lying in bed together and memorized every contour of his body. She knew which curls were prone to falling into his face and the goofy little smirk he gave damn near everything. The man in front of her, it was Leon and he was going to die. God, he was going to die.

Rage boiled up inside of her, pain and desperation cried out as Lorelei glanced at her. It was clear the witch didn't expect Rita to do much of anything, but Rita mentally fought – kicking and screaming – against the magic. She had to get to Leon. She had to stop them. He couldn't die. Not after all of this, not after everything they'd been through. She had already watched Chase die on fucking repeat, and this time she had the chance to save him and she would.

Even if it meant killing every fucking Enforcer that got in her way. No, not Enforcers.

Jenny.

Just as her thoughts darkened and Rita saw red, there was an indiscernible flash of a person before Lorelei went crashing across the room. When Rita blinked, her body was free and she saw Orvar adjusting his suit as others poured into the room to start fighting off the Enforcers. Orvar looked up at her for a moment, their eyes locked for a moment before he let them slowly inspect her from afar. His lips seemed pursed, but Rita did not have time to figure out Orvar's thoughts. Especially not when she heard another bone break. Immediately, she moved to knock down an Enforcer with deadly accuracy and rip the UV loaded gun from his belt and knife before picking up Logan's discarded UV weapon and slipping it in the small of her back. Rita did not even run, she stood and aimed, no doubt that her bullets would find their target and she shot them off.

One, two, three…

She stepped closer and closer as they emptied into Jenny's body and she jerked back away from Leon a step or two. She turned to look at Rita, an amused smirk on her lips as she pivoted and ran after Rita, but she was slower now and Rita just kept her gaze steady and gun steadier.

Ten, eleven, twelve…

Jenny reached out with her long fingers and grabbed Rita by the throat, the bullets burning holes through her as the discomfort became clear on her face. Rita tossed aside the gun and grabbed Jenny with her bare hands, kicking the woman back until there was a breath of space between them, but Jenny dove back at her and took Rita to the ground. Logan's gun clattered out of her reach and she was left struggling with Jenny on the ground. She was weakened, but still so much stronger than Rita and she felt the impact as Jenny took blows at her already broken ribs. Rita coughed up blood, terrible bit of angry redness and she watched as they stained Jenny's dress and a few speckled her face, but she did not respond.

She was going to kill Rita and then she was going to kill Leon.

"Leon?" she heard Becca's words, desperate as she crouched over him, "Leon, please. Can you hear me?"

Something in Rita snapped. In a moment, Jenny went from having Rita's final breaths in her hand to being pinned on her stomach. Rita used all of the strength in her body to pin her arms down with her knees and pull out the knife she had swiped from one of the other Enforcers. She had to fucking die and Orvar had told them that the bullets weren't always effective. Jenny was such an old vampire that she was still moving and Rita had no other choice. She had to – she needed to kill her – and without a moment's hesitation, Rita took the blade to Jenny's throat and started to cut.

The skin was easy, but the muscle was difficult and Rita found herself having to cut with more and more ferocity to keep up with the speed of her healing. Blood drenched the blade, thick and menacing, and she could hear the gurgle rise up from Jenny as she did it. All the while she fought, her body writhed beneath her and Rita cut faster, her mind blank as she thought of the only thing she could do to save Leon. To save everyone. Jenny had to die. She had to, she just –

Crack.

Rita felt her hand stop abruptly and when she finally blinked, her mind registered what was happening. She had reached Jenny's spine and the knife wasn't strong enough to cut through the bone. Her severed flesh was at her fingertips, body writhing beneath Rita, and Rita felt the tears well up in her eyes and sobs catch in her throat. What had she done? Her rage had consumed her, but she could feel the glow of Becca's healing magic and what felt like a million eyes on her. And she couldn't keep cutting. There was no where to go. No turning back. If she stopped, Jenny would kill them.

She felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her body shaking with the weight of her actions and Rita looked up. Nate's eyes were the first she met, though still a wolf, she could see the compassion in his eyes, and she felt unworthy of it. She was blade deep in a vampire's neck. It wasn't until her eyes found Orvar's did she feel a sob work its way up.

"I can't…" she murmured but held the knife with a tight grip, still moving to keep the flesh from regenerating but every time the blade scraped bone, she felt it shoot up her nerves in a painful burst.

 

[Acorn]

Orvar approached Rita, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes, you can," he said firmly, once he'd come to stand by her side. The vampire took in a breath and held it for a moment, his expression growing contemplative, then released the air in a small sigh. "Think of the harm she has done to you and yours in a matter of months, now consider that she has lived for over six hundred years. Even before she became Doctor Jenny," he gestured at her with a dismissive hand and a curled lip, "she took lives to fuel her own without hesitation. Jenny will always place herself above others."

He slipped a hand onto Rita's shoulder and squeezed it. "You will always put others first. This must be done to protect not just you and Leon, but everyone." Orvar stepped back from her.

"It has to be severed completely."

~*~​

There was nothing but darkness until a pinpoint of light appeared, a bright white spot that he focused on and found himself drawn to. He moved towards it, close enough to reach out and touch it, and when he did, the light connected to his fingertip and traveled up the length of his arm, enveloping him in a comforting warmth that drew a smile and contented sigh from him.

Leon, please. Can you hear me?

He pulled his hand away from the light, and darkness swarmed around him again.

Oh God, I don't know where to start.

There was another light, this one golden and warm, that originated from within him and the darkness began to recede. The glow grew, encompassing him entirely, then stretched out as far as he could see, and the darkness fled.

He opened his eyes and tried to move once he realized he was flat on his back, but groaned and shut them again when waves of pain traveled from multiple points and smashed into him.

"Oh, oh, you're awake. That's good. That's really good," Becca breathed. He rolled his head towards her voice and opened his eyes again. "You should hold still though. Fixed the crack in your head, put all your ribs back, patched up your lung, but still have," she looked at him with wide eyes and blew air through her pursed lips, "a lot of work to do. Jenny— she kicked you. A lot."

"Where's Rita?"

Becca cast a furtive glance over her shoulder and turned back to him with her face several shades paler. "Over there with Jenny."

With Jenny? Jenny had thrown him, beat the shit out of him, but Rita was with her now? He rolled his head farther, then squinted at Rita where she sat on Jenny's back, a knife moving deep in the vampire's neck and Orvar (where the fuck had he come from?) at her side.

"She's killing her," Becca explained.

"Oh," he said.

"Yeah. I can't watch. Gotta be done, but I can't watch."

Rita had never killed anyone before. Even when it would've made things easier for her, she'd always fired warning shots and incapacitated the people they'd fought against. Taking another's life wasn't something she'd do lightly, he knew that. Like Becca, he understood it needed to be done. Jenny, just like Jackson, wouldn't stop. Even if they left her where she was and escaped, she'd always hunt them, she'd probably find them, and he didn't think she'd bother playing games with them next time. She'd just fucking kill them. She wasn't stupid, and they'd proven time and time again that they were capable of being disruptive to her plans.

"Blanket," said a gravelly, pack-a-day voice from a pinched, deflated potato of a face. Johanna dropped a heavy folded blanket on him and he hissed when it caused him to shift yet to be mended parts of him.

"You're welcome," she said, and wandered off with another blanket still tucked in her arms that she took over to Nate.

Becca giggled at his expression and unfurled the blanket to drape it over him properly.

She went back to work, her hands glowing as she held them over him and healed him, and he went back to watching Rita. As did most everyone in the room. The fighting had ended while he'd been out, all the Enforcers were down — unconscious or dead, he wasn't sure and he honestly couldn't find it in himself to care too much after what they'd done to Rita — but those remaining, those who'd fought to save her, and those who loved her, watched and waited.

 

[Meraki]

The squeeze on her injured shoulder sent a rippled of pain through her, but it served as a reminder. While the adrenaline had did wonders for her stamina, there was not an inch of Rita that was not covered in blood, bruises, or cuts. She could feel the wetness of her tank top from where the blood from the carved T stained the fabric and saturated it like a rag under a faucet. She remembered, for a moment, Leon crumpled with his broken bones and Becca's soothing, healing hands. She remembered the rage in Nate's eyes over the feed from his cell. She remembered Leon begging for death over and over from Lorelei because he did not want to live in this world without her.

She remembered crying on rooftops, the investor's ball, nearly losing one another, being on the run, being shot – the fear, the anguish, the pain. All Jenny had ever brought them was pain. Maybe it did not make her a good person to kill her, but Rita had to make a choice. Orvar was right – Jenny couldn't be allowed to harm anyone else. Not her, not Leon, not any of their family, and not any of the supernaturals out there who still sought protection. The world would be safer without Jenny in it.

So if that meant Rita had to let herself shatter and keep slicing, she would do just that.

She brought the knife down again as it scraped bone and she knew it was useless. She couldn't cut through bones with her bare hands, so Rita let up for just a moment, just long enough to grab Jenny's head and snap it to the side. The resounding crack of her neck reverberated through the now silent room and with careful hands, Rita quickly moved the blade to find the severed part of bone and keep cutting. It took nearly two hands to get it done, the blood seeping out in a puddle on the ground, but the knife moved. Slowly but surely it cut through the muscles and bone until Rita had just the last bit of flesh and with one last pull, Jenny's head severed and Rita held it by her hair.

And the vampire stopped moving beneath her.

With an elastic snap, Rita dropped the head and the knife. Pain washed over her as the adrenaline died in her veins, her lungs labored under the weight of her broken ribs, and she felt herself start to shake. Her hands were the worst and sobs built up in her throat, but she did not speak. It was only footsteps that broke her out of her trance like state and she let her eyes flicker up towards Nate. Johanna must have found him some sweatpants from one of the liberated cells, because there he was crouched down with a hand extended towards her.

Rita tried to push herself up standing but her legs nearly gave out under her weight and Nate caught her in his arms. Immediately, as if it were the most instinctual thing in the world.

/

Nate pulled her from Jenny and kept her gathered in his arms just a few feet away. It was what Leon would have wanted to do, if he'd had the strength yet to stand, but in the moments between his healing and her hurting, Nate knew he had to step up. He wrapped her in his arms and a sob finally wracked up through her bones. It was painful and deep, all the tears she wanted to shed after watching Leon give up on his life, after watching Nate lose his mind, and after feeling hit after hit until her body gave out.

There was just nothing left to give that night. Rita had given them everything she had – but she was still alive. They were all still alive. Everyone but Jenny, and she would never hurt them again.

Nate didn't even try to shush her. He just wrapped his arms tighter and sent Becca and Leon a sympathetic look. Rita's face was buried in his chest, tears streaming down her face. He took a moment to glance down at her wounds for the first time in detail. His fingers were on her back, but he noted the bruises, the pained red skin from where what looked like tasers burned her body. There were cuts too, but nothing as prominent as the bleeding wound from her shoulder and when he looked closer he could make out the angry, bleeding "T" that they had carved into her like fucking barbarians. Nate tightened his grip on her, enough to make her curl even deeper into him.

It was the kind of comfort he could never give his own mother.

"Hey," he said gently as he smoothed down her wild hair, "We're gonna get you to Leon, okay? Just breathe. You did great, Rita."

He cursed himself for how stupid it all sounded. She had just been beaten within an inch of her life and severed the head of the woman who had supposedly given her a purpose after Chase's death. None of this was okay and she sure as hell didn't feel like she did great. He could see it in her. A long time ago, he thought all he saw was a liar in Rita, but she had never been and would never be one. All she did was try to mask her own stupid pain for the sake of those around her because she lived her life with her heart on her sleeve. For a long time, Nate had taken shots at it and thought how could someone be so stupid as to lay out all of their weaknesses? But that's not what Rita was about. There was a light in her.

One that had led so many of them home. To a place of feeling safe and protected.

Nate looked up again to Becca and Leon again, this time his expression pained as her sobs just grew heavier and heavier. He wanted to peel her away, to get Becca to take a look at her, but she wasn't moving. He didn't blame her either. It was a whole lot of pain for anyone to feel all at once. Let alone a human with no healing ability of her own.

"Do you want to go to Leon?" Nate said gently and it was the only thing that made Rita's head rise up from his chest and glance up. Her eyes a heartbreaking shade of green. She tried to wipe her face but her wrists and elbows were raw from the rope, and she only ended up smearing a bit of blood along her cheek. She nodded slowly, and Nate looked back to Leon expectantly.

It was about time they saw one another again.

 

[Acorn]

Johanna breezed by again, this time tossing pants his direction, but Becca had helped him into a sitting position and he caught the garment before it hit his face. The old nurse winked at him, then continued on to a small mixed group of men and women who all had on the same uniform: white t-shirt, navy sweatpants, and bare feet. Werewolves. That's what Johanna had meant by more doors to unlock: she'd freed the werewolves. Johanna ushered them out of the room, briefly cutting Rita from his view as they walked, limped, or shuffled by. Poor fuckers. Every one of them had probably experienced the same or worse than he had in the name of science, world peace, or whatever lie Jenny had fed them.

She wouldn't be able to hurt them anymore, though, she wouldn't be able to hurt anyone. Rita had made sure of that. He'd watched as she grappled with herself, with the implications of what she had to do, and he'd wished he could go to her, but part of him had recognized that if he'd been able to do that, he would've taken something of it away from her. She'd needed to stand on her own, needed to rectify in some way the pain Jenny had caused her.

Now that it was over, she could lean on him, and he'd support her. While Nate acted as a substitute in the interim, he struggled to his feet with Becca's help, blanket clutched around his shoulders, then leaned on her while he gingerly pulled on his sweatpants. She'd mended him the best she could, and to hear her tell it, there'd been a lot of work, but he was still sore and tender in all the places Jenny had hit him: his head, his shoulder, arm, leg, fuck— everything hurt, throbbed, and his body cried out for rest, to just sit down for a spell, but he'd been away from Rita for too fucking long.

He continued to accept Becca's help, her supporting hand at his elbow, as he hobbled like an old man with a blanket wrapped around him to Rita. Becca released him at the same time Nate stood once he was next to her, and he missed the witch's stabilizing hand as he did his best not to fall on his face as he lowered himself into a sitting position next to her. When she looked up at him, he opened his arms to her, then carefully around her again, pulling her into the warm cocoon of his blanketed embrace. He didn't focus on the marks they'd put on her — the bruises, cuts, all the grime — he didn't allow himself to.

Leon only felt the presence Rita in his arms. Alive. She smelled of blood, of pain and tears, but beneath that was the scent unique to Rita, flowers and something sweeter just beneath the surface. His chest and shoulders shuddered and somehow, fucking somehow, his body turned up more moisture that leaked from the corners of his eyes as he closed them tightly and kissed the top of her head.

"Love you, Rita," he said, his voice gruff and thick. He wanted to say more, wanted to let her know how sorry he was that she'd had to endure what she had, that she'd been forced to do the things she'd done, but words escaped him and perhaps that was best.

Becca leaned heavily on Nate as she watched them, a tired smile on her freckled face. "Can't tell me that's not romantic," she said quietly.

 

[Meraki]

"Leon."

Rita breathed out his name like a prayer as he settled down beside her and she threw herself into his embrace with the only strength she had left in her body. He pulled his arms around her and held her close, so close that there wasn't an molecule of space between them. She didn't care about the blood or the markings, the broken bones that ached so terribly in her chest that she could have vomited if she gave it too much thought. There were plenty of broken ribs, her dislocated shoulder, the carvings and taser marks on her skin. Everything was searing in pain, but having Leon around her made her forget.

Desperate sobs wracked through her tired lungs, but not from heartache, instead from relief. He was alive, there, she could feel his heartbeat against her and his warmth encompass her. She buried her face into his chest and held on with everything she had. It reminded her of the night Leon held her on the rooftop, but this time she wasn't crying for what she lost, she was crying because of what she finally had back. Leon. God, she had almost lost him. Jenny had almost killed him. If it hadn't been for Becca, she probably would have.

"I love you," she whispered as his lips found her head, "I love you so much."

It didn't seem like enough. I love you was nothing compared to what Rita felt for Leon. He was her rock, her love and best friend. He made her better and she had been searching for purpose for so long – but she found it by his side. She wanted to be better, to be stronger, to do more and be more. God, she loved him more than she ever thought possible, especially after losing Chase. There was a time she thought she would never be able to feel again, let alone love.

He had given her back everything she had lost a million times over.

"Rita," she heard her name from Becca's lips and she didn't even raise her head to look at the young witch. She just clung in closer to Leon and buried herself in his embrace. Becca's voice sounded tired and Rita knew the question that would follow. "I should take a look…" She placed a hand on Rita's shoulder and the woman shuddered under the pain of the touch. She couldn't move yet, she wouldn't move yet. They could deal with her injuries later – they wouldn't kill her and it was a lot.

"Take it easy," Nate said gently as he walked up alongside Becca and steadied her on her feet, "You just did a lot of magic. We'll take care of her, let's just – figure out how we're going to get out of here."

Rita just held onto Leon and pressed kisses against the exposed skin where she burrowed her face. Every moment it seemed her hold on him grew and she would not be separated from him. "I thought I lost you," she whispered, her voice gentle but heavily rasped with exhaustion, "Lorelei she—I saw…you all…"

She shook her head gently as the words refused to come and just clung to him with her entire life, "Don't leave me, okay? Just for a little while…just for a little while I want to be selfish with you."