Transformation

[Acorn]

It wasn't the first time he'd had to pack his things in a hurry. When he'd been forced to move from Texas to live closer to the facility, he'd been given twenty minutes to get his shit together, and he'd realized how little time that really was while he dug through his apartment trying to find the things that he absolutely had to have. Since then, he'd kept those belongings — his pictures and little bits of his old life — together, so it was only a matter of finding his box, grabbing some clothes, all his things from the bathroom, and he was ready to go. He'd even squirreled away some cash, mostly from the tips he'd received when he'd waited tables, and though it wasn't much, it'd be enough for them to get through a few days, maybe a week, without needing to use credit cards or anything traceable; it was breathing room.

After they'd gotten all their stuff together, they loaded up and hit the road. It didn't phase him to leave. The only attachment he had to the city was driving the car they were in, but he wondered what it was like for Rita. She was leaving behind an apartment, her job, everything she'd had before he'd crashed into her life. He could've asked, he'd even intended to, but if Rita suspected her apartment was being watched, what would've stopped them from bugging her car, too? It was better to remain silent. Rita seemed to be on board with that, too, because as she drove, she didn't say much. Between the quiet, the vibrations of the car, and how comfortable the seat was, Leon found it impossible not to just… lean his head back for a little, so he could rest his eyes for a bit.

He didn't wake up until they'd pulled into a motel parking lot and Rita cut the engine. It was the sudden lack of movement that made him lift his head and sit up so he could rub the back of his neck, soothing the muscles that were protesting the fact he'd fallen asleep with his head wedged between his seat and the door panel.

"Sorry," he said as he moved on to rubbing his face and trying to get his brain to work past the fuzziness of having just woken up. While he was still trying to orient himself, Rita left the car and went to the lobby. He felt bad for it once he realized she'd gone, because she'd just driven for who knew how long and he'd passed out. To make it up to her, he insisted on carrying their bags into the motel room once she came back with a key.

It was an unremarkable room, with a queen-sized bed, a table and two chairs near a window with wide blinds, an air conditioner unit, an old box television, and decorations that looked like they'd been updated last in the nineties — all pink and baby blue. There was a weird musty smell to the room, but he didn't remark on it. All he wanted to do was drop their bags on the table and then toe off his shoes and sit on the edge of the bed, so he did. The bed creaked as he settled onto it and the comforter was stiff from what he hoped was starch, but it didn't really matter if it wasn't. What mattered was that they'd made it out. They were safe. Neither of them were stuck in a room with Lorelei. Jenny might've let them go, they might still be tracking them, but they weren't in any immediate danger from the witch.

Leon ran his hands through his hair, wincing when his wrists brushed against it, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The skin where the silver had pressed was raw and red, covered with blisters, and still throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the pain when he'd still been handcuffed.

"Think we're okay to talk now?" he asked Rita.

 

[Meraki]

Rita sat silent with her thoughts for almost five hours.

It was late by the time they pulled into the motel. It was a little place just off the highway, the first she could find with a slew of vacancies. When they got into her car back in the city, she had no idea where they were going, but she assumed if she started heading south it would take them far enough away that they could have some breathing room to figure out a plan. It was nearly impossible to discern what would happen next, but they had to prepare themselves as best they could.

Leaving the city wasn't difficult in the moment. She spent too much of her energy worrying and working through the adrenaline to protect their lives. It was interesting, though, to realize how quickly her mind could decide what to keep on her person out of all the things Chase left behind. The apartment was paid off, so no one would need to tend to it for now. She packed a bag full of clothes and just a few things that meant something to her, but everything else was left behind – photo albums and memories scattered across her apartment.

In the course of the last twenty-four hours, Rita's life shattered along with her heart.

Leon fell asleep quickly and Rita was glad for it. Every time she saw him, she heard the screams and saw the way his face had contorted in pain. It didn't help that every time she closed her eyes, she saw Chase, and it seemed like she was caught in a terrible limbo where everything hurt and nothing was the same. Old wounds bled, her heart labored in her chest, and it felt like losing Chase all over again. All this time and she never knew. What would he think of her now?

A few times, she wiped silent tears from her cheeks as they drove. By the time they finally pulled in, Rita didn't hesitate to make her way out of the car to check them into a room. She was still wearing her evening gown and heels, but she had slipped on a sweater that covered her arms and wrists, as not to pull too much attention to her. The man at the front desk was kind enough, eyeing her with a flirtatious smile and she thanked him for his help. All she needed was to get inside and away from every single prying eye and ear. Leon insisted on carrying their bags in, and Rita didn't protest. Her mind was just racing at a million miles an hour.

Once they were inside, she peeled off her sweater and left it on the back of the chair. Her wrists were raw, thumb still slightly dislocated, and her hands were rough. Bruises adorned her knuckles and snaked around her wrist from the bruising grasp of the rope against her skin. They had stopped bleeding, though, and she let them fall out of mind for a moment. She could deal with herself and all of that later. It was Leon's wince that pulled her out of her own thoughts and Rita turned to see his own blistered, red skin.

"I think we're in the clear for now," Rita agreed as she moved to find the first aid kit she brought. She opened it and thumbed through until she found the ointment and bandages she was looking for. Slipping off her heels, Rita moved to crouch down in front of Leon and take his hands in her own. Wordlessly, she started to treat his injuries with gentle hands. It was the least she could do.

"I figure we can keep driving in the morning until we find somewhere we can trade my car in," Rita said, trying to keep her thoughts off the darkness that edged in her mind, "Grab something a bit cheaper and take the difference in cash. That should last us for a while. I'm not sure where we can go, but I figure the further south we go, the safer we'll be."

"How are you feeling?" she asked, trying to maneuver his injuries as gently as possible, "You seemed exhausted in the car – if you want to lie down, we can talk about this in the morning."

All she wanted was to reach back and unzip this uncomfortable dress and crawl into bed, but she knew better. She knew the moment her head hit the pillow, the nightmares would dig their talons into her heart. Instead, she busied her hands and worried about Leon, knowing it was what gave her a reprieve from her own thoughts and the pain that she kept pushed down.

Leon's screams. Chase's open chest. The thoughts never stopped. Just as Lorelei wanted, she was sure. The damage the witch had done went so much deeper than the injuries on Rita's wrists. As the thought passed her mind, she absentmindedly took her hands back and popped her thumb back into place before looking down at it. She couldn't tell what hurt worse, but she knew at the time the only way to free herself from the ropes was to go to any length necessary.

"There you go," she let a soft smile grace her lips as she stood. "Would you mind unzipping this dress for me?"

 

[Acorn]

The entire time she bandaged his wrists, he did nothing but stare at the welts, bruises, and raw skin that adorned hers with his eyebrows lowered and his mouth set grimly. He wished she'd let him take care of her first, and maybe she would've if he'd pulled his head out of his ass to see that she was in a rougher state than he was.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice quiet. "Got plenty of rest in the car." He grimaced when she popped her thumb back into place. She'd driven the entire way like that and he'd what, fallen asleep and probably broken the silence by snoring all the way to the motel? She had to be running on fumes, but she'd still made sure he was sorted first. He wasn't sure whether to feel happy or dismayed by the fact. When she took care of him, it made him feel cherished, reminded him that someone gave enough of a damn to make sure he was alright, but Rita had just spent the evening watching a video of Lorelei torturing him and he couldn't help but wonder if she was driven by pity.

Leon forgot his train of thought and breathed a small laugh when Rita asked him to unzip her dress. "Gonna be honest: it's not really how I pictured it happening," he said as he reached up to fish her zipper from where it was nestled after she'd turned around and pulled it down. Once she'd stepped out of all that black material, leaving it piled on the ground, he reached out to grab her before she could go too far, pulling her to him and scooting back on the bed so she could sit between his legs.

He held her and nuzzled his cheek against the back of her head, her hair tickling his face. Her back was warm against his chest and for a moment, he could forget how they'd ended up there and focus on nothing but how right it felt to have her in his arms.

"Will you let me take care of your wrists at some point?" he asked, turning his head to rest his chin on her shoulder so he could look pointedly at her still uncared for wounds. "I never got any official first aid training or anything, but I'm a good listener. You just tell me what to do, and I will."

 

[Meraki]

Leon had this way of stopping her thoughts dead in their tracks.

It was so different than Chase. When Rita would get lost in her thoughts, Chase used to give her space because it was what she asked for. She would spend nights awake on the couch with a glass of wine and just try to process things that happened. Nothing tragic had ever really happened in her life prior to losing Chase, but she knew how he would have reacted. He would have held her and then let her go. It was always what she thought she needed. But Leon was different, he pulled her into his arms and didn't let go. He nuzzled and kissed and soothed wounds. Maybe that was what she needed now.

Was it so bad to believe that Chase was the man who loved who she used to be and Leon was loving the woman she was now? They were so different, same skin but she felt different. She wasn't so naïve anymore, she was stronger, more independent and self-reliant. Leon never tried to stop her from being any of those things, but he held her and coaxed her through the difficult, dark times. And maybe she was meant for him now, even if Lorelei and Jenny manipulated them.

But when he held her, all those thoughts flew out of her mind. All she could feel was the warmth of him against the bare skin of her back and she felt herself exhale at the touch. It was like the anxiety melted off her, the tension eased in her shoulders. She took a moment to close her eyes but she saw it. She still saw him, saw Chase, and she heard the screams. Her eyes opened and she felt the heat rise in her face, threatening to pull tears from her eyes, but Rita held them back. She didn't have any tears left to cry. Was she weak? Was that why Lorelei was so capable of getting into her mind?

His chin touched her shoulder and Rita instinctively nuzzled into the touch. His words drew attention back to her wrists and she really took a look at them. With the adrenaline starting to process through her system, Rita could feel the pain begin to radiate. She let out a shallow laugh, a dry and tired sound, but genuine as she shook her head and looked down with a bit of a sheepish expression. "I—okay," she breathed out in agreement before she could convince herself to pull away from him, "I just – I have to clean them first and I just know it's going to hurt worse."

And I don't know how much more pain I can take tonight, she thought but the words died on her lips.

"You know, I only ever saw that in a movie," she admitted, "dislocating your thumb to get your hands out of bindings. I felt a little bit like James Bond for a minute there."

"If you, um," she tried to gather her thoughts after not speaking for the last five hours, "if you can get a wet cloth, we just have to get the dried blood away before we wrap them. We can't really do anything for the bruises here – they'll be fine."

 

[Acorn]

Leon tucked his chin back and smiled, then pressed a kiss into her shoulder when she agreed to let him help. She'd tended to him more times than he could count, cleaned and wrapped his wounds, made sure he was alright. Now it was his turn. He squeezed her in a quick hug, kissed her shoulder again, then untangled himself from her and scooted backward until he could get a leg underneath him without kicking Rita and then pushed himself off the bed.

He padded into the bathroom, and as soon as he flicked the light on and stepped into the room, he regretted being barefoot. The floor was cold, and although it looked clean, it felt grimy. "You sure looked like it," he said, his voice echoing from the bathroom. "That dress, the gun." There was a stack of washcloths near the sink, but he started the water running before he grabbed one. "Saving my ass," he added as he wet the washcloth with warm water and then wrung it out.

He was smiling as he left the bathroom and returned to sit next to Rita. Carefully, he pulled one of her hands onto his leg and began dabbing and wiping at the dried blood. He hadn't had formal training, but he had a good instinct for how to accomplish the task while still being gentle. Any time he saw caught her wince, he'd stop, give her a moment, and then resume what he'd been doing. Soon, the washcloth was pink, her wrists were clean, and he'd started the task of wrapping her wrists in the same gauzy material his were in.

People were going to think they were members of a failed suicide pact.

"You said you weren't sure where we could go, and that we'd be safe going farther south," he said, his head still down while he unraveled and wrapped. "We get this tracker out of my shoulder and we could go to Texas." He glanced up, a small, hesitant smile hovering on his lips. "Could stop in and visit my grandma?"

 

[Meraki]

Rita just sat there in her bra and underwear, glancing down at her wrists as he spoke. They hurt so much now, but they hadn't on the ride down. To be honest, she didn't really feel anything on the ride down. She ran completely on autopilot, her mind racing through what they needed to do, and the rest of the time was spent pushing back thoughts of Chase's death and of Leon's pain. It was difficult to even register her own, but Leon was gentle as always and moved quickly to the bathroom to do exactly as she asked. It was a funny little thing she noticed – how he listened to her without argument when she wasn't being thickheaded. Every time she asked for something honestly, no matter how difficult it was for her to ask for or admit, he was there.

"Yeah, well," Rita shook her head as he came back, the dark curls cascading down her back, "If I'd had my way, those three bullets would have shattered that glass – but I knew they wouldn't. Everything in there is bullet proof, but I'm glad it distracted her."

Lorelei's image in her mind was enough to make her blood boil, but Rita was quickly removed from her thoughts by the pain radiating through her wrists. She winced once, unintentionally, and Leon stopped for her, gentle and careful in his movements. Once the cloth turned pink, he wrapped them slowly until the bandages were firm, but comfortable, on her wrists.

"It's not the worst idea," she admitted, looking up at him with her bright, green eyes though they were worn and tired already. "I thought about heading for my parents' house when I first pulled onto the highway, but it's a small town and everyone knows everyone else's business. Not to mention my mother is disgustingly overbearing and it would be a big deal for me to bring a man they've never met or heard of down to visit after…well, Chase."

That would be something. Rita barely talked to her parents in the year since Chase passed, but to call them, show up and bring a boyfriend back with her? Not to mention her and Leon hadn't even talked about what they were. Boyfriend seemed like a juvenile term. God, what was she fourteen again? All she could imagine was the stark white expression of her mother as she explained that her and her lover were on the run from a supernatural facility.

She knew what she would get. Rita, sweetheart, she would say with that soft, pitying smile, don't you think you're getting a little too old for flings? Rita shook her head at the thought. No, her mother was a marriage or bust kind of woman, especially considering she had only dated Rita's father for four months before they were engaged. The last thing Rita needed was that kind of stress on top of everything she already endured.

"That would definitely be south enough to have some breathing room," Rita agreed as she watched him wrap her wrists, "But you realize that getting that tracker out of your shoulder is going to be a bit of an issue, right? It's pretty close to the skin, but we'd have to cut it out. You really trust me to do something like that?"

"You're asking me to literally stab you in the back," she laughed gently, the sound warm even if it was a little rough given the last twenty-four hours.

This was all just so fucked up.

"Thank you," she said finally as he finished with her wrists, but she made no move to pull away from him.

 

[Acorn]

His smile grew to an uncontainable width when she agreed to a venture to Texas. Sort of. It's not the worst idea, wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but she hadn't knocked it down entirely. Thinking about Rita meeting his grandma made him feel a sort of happy he hadn't thought possible. She'd love Rita, he knew it. How could she not? He did.

Leon blinked and looked away from Rita briefly, but he realized she wasn't privy to his thoughts so that nugget was still safe in his head. Now that he'd unearthed the word, he checked for its authenticity and he knew he had for a while — since she'd charged into his containment unit and dragged him back to awareness, at least. Before then, he'd still cared for her; it's why they'd used her image to trigger his first transformation outside of the full moon.

But even when they'd first met and she'd bandaged him up, taken him to Jenny for some pain killers, and then had breakfast with him, he'd known she was someone he wanted to get to know better. He remembered his bumbling attempt to set up more breakfast dates before Jackson and crew had rolled up and shit all over those plans. Instead of being able to have a meal a month with her, he'd spent the following month with her as one of his only regular companions. He couldn't imagine how pissed Jackson would be if he'd known he was part of the reason they were where they were now. All the pushing he'd done to try and keep them apart had only served to push them closer together.

He pulled his head from the clouds as she mentioned her mother and Chase, and he wondered what it said about him that he was relieved she hadn't taken them there. It wasn't that he didn't want to meet her family, but there was a layer of complexity there that didn't exist with his grandmother. She'd accept Rita because she'd see how happy she made him. But Rita's mother? By everything he'd heard about the woman, he didn't know if he'd be allowed to step out from the shadow of Chase, and he wasn't sure he could handle that. At least not yet.

"I trust you completely," he said with a smile as he finished up with her wrists, though his smile wavered when he thought about Rita slicing on him with a knife and digging around with tweezers, maybe her fingers, and without any anesthetic to keep the pain from him. "But uh… Maybe we should get some whiskey beforehand. For both of us." He'd need it for the pain, and she'd need it to steady her hand.

When she thanked him he immediately supplied a warm, "You're welcome," then it was just silence and their hands connected, and he found his eyes drifting from hers to all the parts of her still covered by her bra and underwear. He suddenly felt nothing but a pressing need to gather her in his arms and seek comfort in shared touch (and some fucked up part of him felt like he could erase Jackson's touch with his own), but he'd essentially had a full night's rest on the car ride and she'd been going full steam since they'd started getting ready for the investor's black tie event.

He cleared his throat and met her eyes again, looking at her from beneath raised eyebrows.

"Just how tired are you?"

 

[Meraki]

"Right," Rita smiled gently at the mention of liquor, "Definitely whiskey."

She watched as his eyes raked over her, his voice lowered as he spoke, and Rita felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. It was a bit selfish, honestly. She couldn't stop the images in her mind, but the anxiety that coiled in her cells she could ease. Jackson's hands were rough on her, bruising her just a bit. Just above her elbows, her hips, but she wanted nothing more than to lose every single bit of herself in Leon. She needed to feel him there, to know that he was still with her after everything they endured. The sound of him in excruciating pain reverberated through her bones when she gave herself a moment to think, so she didn't want to think anymore.

Just how tired are you?

Rita didn't hesitate to shift herself so she could settle on his lap. With each leg straddled over his lap, Rita dug her hands gently into his hair and pressed her lips to his with a deep, slow passion. She just needed him and she needed him to know that. Throughout all this fucked up mess, she just wanted him to feel that he was hers and she was his.

/

"Okay," Rita breathe out after a few chugs of whiskey and passed it off to Leon. The next day she drove them another seven or so hours down the center of the country. She was exhausted down to her very marrow, the lack of sleep settling in deep. Their night had served to pulled Jackson from her mind and skin, especially after a delicious and perfect shower that she tugged him into for both their sakes the next morning. After trading in the car, acquiring enough cash and heading to a liquor store, they found another trashy little motel to disappear into and she promised him that she would try to make it as painless as possible. She picked up some ointment and bandaging at the drug store, some ibuprofen and sleep aids for her. He could probably use them, too, especially if his shoulder was throbbing throughout the night.

There was no anesthesia, no option for numbing, really.

She grabbed a bowl of ice from the freezer to try and numb the area, but all she could do was sit there with a sterilized pocket knife, tweezers and her eyebrows furrowed as she knelt on the bed behind him. "Okay, fuck," she pushed her hair back and pulled it into a ponytail to get it out of her eyes, "This is going to hurt and you're going to hate me. Give me that," she snatched the bottle back for a second before handing it off. The whiskey burned going down but after the last two days, it was exactly what she needed.

Especially if she was going to go through with this madness.

"Alright," Rita sighed finally, gearing herself up and shifting her weight. She placed one of the ice cubes against his skin until it numbed the surface and she exhaled, again. She wasn't even how to do this – but she assumed it was like a Band-Aid, the faster the better. "We're going to do this on three, alright?"

"One," she clenched her eyes shut in disbelief before she opened them and eyed the part of his shoulder she was supposed to be cutting open. Luckily, she knew exactly where they planted the tracker, but it didn't change the process. "Two, fuck. Okay….three."

On three, she pressed the tip of the knife to his skin, pushing down just enough to slice through the skin so she could extract the tracker. Immediately, his blood stained her fingers and she felt her mind revert back to all those images she had seen – but this wasn't the same. God, but it felt like it.

All he had to do was keep still and she'd have it out in a second.

 

[Acorn]

Leon's face bore a grimace as the ice melted against his skin and dribbled in cold rivulets down his back, but he didn't say anything. In fact, he was concentrating entirely on not saying anything, on not expressing his trepidation in any way. Rita seemed convinced he'd despise her for the pain she was about to inflict, even though it was for both their sakes that the microchip be removed from his shoulder. As long as it remained in him, Jenny would be able to follow their movements exactly. He didn't doubt she'd find another way to keep tabs on them if she wanted, but at least this way it wouldn't be as easy for them to know what they were doing.

He drank deeply from the whiskey bottle, but given its lightness after Rita handed it back the final time, she was taking bigger swigs than him.

"Alright, on three," he agreed, ducking his head and staring resolutely at his legs, already feeling warm and muddled from the whiskey. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder to see what she was up to, but he could feel her hand hovering above him, knew the knife was just there, and he counted with her silently.

One.

Two.

Fuck — wait, that wasn't a number.

Okay? Was she still doing it? Was she going to start counting over again?

When she actually made it to three and the knife bit into his skin, he flinched and jerked his head to look over his shoulder at her.

"Christ, Rita! You said on three!"

 

[Meraki]

"Stop it! I've got a knife in your back, okay? I'm sorry it's fucking difficult!" Rita called out after him as he jerked back. She tried her damnedest to keep the knife in place, but Leon wasn't making it easy. God, this is what Jenny drove them to, huh? Stabbing one another for the sake of survival. She could feel the warmth in her face from the alcohol coursing through her system. It steadied her hand, but nothing could numb the pain of what she knew she was doing to him.

Next time, she would set guidelines. She was okay with setting bones, bandaging, but she drew the fucking line at taking a switchblade to his back.

"I did do it on three!" she snapped back as she tried to focus. "Three just happened to come after fuck, you should pay more attention. Now stop moving!"

With careful fingers, Rita brought the knife away from his skin, but took the tweezers to the skin. It was just the smallest incision she could manage while still being able to get the chip out. She brought them under the skin, wiping the blood away as she went to clear her vantage point and eventually she caught something that definitely wasn't muscle or bone. "Fuck," she muttered to herself as she took a deep breath and eased her hand so she could clamp the tweezers down on the small piece of technology in him. The sound it made coming out was disgusting and Rita just shook her head the whole time, adrenaline coursing through her system. It was only when the little microchip came out did she take a good look at it. It was covered in blood, but there was no denying what it was.

"Can you—" Rita started as she reached over him to hand him the tweezers, "will you hold this? I don't wanna drop it while I make sure you don't bleed out all over this bed. And my hands are shaking because I just went finger deep in your back muscles. I get like at least two really good favors after this one." It was already on her hands, but she watched as it dripped down his back and stained the towel she had put down. That would be an interesting find for the maid later.

"You okay?"

 

[Acorn]

His mouth was twisted petulantly when he turned back around because while she was technically correct, he hadn't been prepared and he wouldn't have moved if she'd counted like she should've. At least, he liked to think he wouldn't have moved if he'd been able to steel himself properly. She was right that he shouldn't move anymore, though, and he made more of an effort from that point onward to remain facing forward and still. He also renewed his effort to keep quiet, and was successful in keeping his expressions of discomfort down to a few grunts and caught breaths — though it was especially hard to do while she fished around with the tweezers, sending sharp pains lancing through him.

By the time she pulled the microchip free, his endorphins had kicked in and were mingling with adrenaline and alcohol, making him exclaim giddily when she passed the tweezers over to him. He pinched the device between his fingers and pulled it free from the tweezers, then rubbed it clean on one of his pants legs and brought it back up to peer at it. It was a clear plastic tube with some metal component within, not much bigger than a piece of rice. He had an urge to bite it between his teeth, crush it beneath his heel, or anything else that would destroy it completely, but that didn't seem wise.

Jenny would probably be more suspicious of a tracker suddenly not tracking than one that still tracked... something other than him.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you." He looked dubiously over his shoulder at her. "And what? What sort of favors?"

 

[Meraki]

"Oh, I don't know," Rita sighed as she patched up his shoulder, "Something nice, like getting up to turn the television off when I don't want to get out of bed, or to take me in a manly fashion at the time of my choosing. You know, romantic things."

It was slightly a joke, but the laugh bubbled up anyway. It was a tired and relieved sound. She was so scared that she would do irreversible damage to him that when she saw the blood starting to ebb and the bandages holding, it actually eased her heart. At least they had the microchip tracker out and now they could get rid of it, head to Texas to see his grandma, and figure out their lives from there. Now if they were caught, it was because they weren't careful enough, not because there was no escape. She moved off the bed and let her barefeet hit the carpet so she could pad over to the bathroom. Immediately, she turned on the hot water and lathered her hands up, scrubbing until every single drop of blood was cleaned from her skin and the water clear.

"You should flush it down the toilet," Rita mentioned as she leaned against the bathroom doorway in her oversized t-shirt and rubbed at her hands with a clean towel. "If you crush it, they'll come straight after us, but if we can send it through the pipeline to the nearest water treatment facility which I'm guessing is a few tens of miles in the opposite direction, we can head out with at least a day ahead of them, maybe even two."

"Not to mention," she hummed with a smile, "I would kill to be a fly on the wall during that conversation. I feel bad for the Enforcer who has to give Jenny that news – excuse me, but we've tracked them to what appears to be a water treatment plant."

"At least then she'll know what we think of her."

Though inferring she was a piece of shit didn't even come close to the rage that Rita had felt in that room with Lorelei. If it had been a second later and that glass an inch less thick, Rita would have killed the woman where she stood. She wasn't proud of that, but she knew herself too well to ignore it. Jenny was lucky they had left, otherwise Rita wouldn't have been able to stop herself from protecting Leon.

 

[Acorn]

He laughed heartily at her answer, his head tilted back and his eyes scrunched up. It felt like it'd been ages since he'd laughed like that, though he knew in reality it'd been less than two days. When he was around Rita, smiles and laughs came easily and often. When the world wasn't shitting down their throats, at least. Sharing jokes and laughter again — it was a step back towards normal for them.

"So that's your idea of romantic," he said, still chuckling. "At least give me enough warning so I can get you flowers beforehand." He'd never done that for her, he realized. The environment their relationship had been built in hadn't exactly allowed him to do all the little things he might've if they'd met differently. If they'd met at a coffee shop instead of when he'd tried to attack and kill her on a full moon, he would've showered her with flowers and little gifts, but he'd had to find different ways to show his affection, like hugs and kisses and careening through a crowd in his wolf form to face off with Jackson.

When she echoed his thoughts, he went into the bathroom, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her with him as he went. The room was barely big enough for them to both be in it at the same time, but it was important to him that Rita was there, too. He stared down at the white porcelain commode, the microchip still pinched between his fingers.

"I should say some words," he said after he dropped the microchip into the toilet bowl. "You won't be missed," he decided after only a moment's hesitation. Then he flushed the toilet and watched the little tube spin around, caught in the water's current before it disappeared down the drain.

Before the toilet tank had even finished refilling, Leon had shuffled around and had both his arms around Rita, hugging her to him.

"Thank you," he said, and heaved a great sigh before he pulled back just enough to press a kiss to her forehead. "First time I've really felt free in a long time."

 

[Meraki]

"Also," Rita interjected as Leon said a few words before he flushed the microchip, "Fuck you."

It didn't even begin to explain or express the betrayal and hurt that Rita felt at the hand of the facility. What killed her the most was knowing that she wasn't the only person to be affected by the innermost workings there – Chase and Alice died, Leon had suffered, and so many more word blindly under a higher up who seems to like to dangle people on strings like puppets. Between the possible vampire, the life-threatening situations, the physical and emotional trauma – hell, it was lucky that Rita and Leon were even alive, let alone relatively well on their way to the south.

But that was a testament to them, not Jenny or Lorelei or Jackson.

Leon's arm snaked around her and tugged her closer so that way he could press a kiss to her forehead. Immediately, all the frustrations melted from her and she smile a bit sheepishly. Maybe she had helped free him, but she was also part of the reason he had suffered so damn much. "I told you I would break you out," Rita chuckled, "the James Bond-esque way it happened was just a plus."

It was a messy jailbreak, but they managed it.

"Come on," Rita smiled and glanced up at him, "We've got a long drive left. Let's see if we can't finish off that whiskey and get some rest. I know you feel good right now, but that shoulder's going to start hurting sooner rather than later."

"And I can't be the reason you were stabbed and why it hurts," she smirked, resting her head on his chest for a moment before slipping her fingers through his and tugging gently.

 

[Acorn]

It was a long drive, and it didn't help that he started the next morning with a raging headache. Fortunately, Rita was always thinking ahead and had purchased painkillers at the drug store along with all the other supplies she'd needed to dig out his microchip. They'd originally been intended for his shoulder, not to aid him in recovering from helping Rita polish off an entire bottle of whiskey, but he needed all the help he could get. He shuffled out to the car after they'd had breakfast and a couple of pots of coffee between them, and even in his blearily hungover state, Leon had taken one look at Rita — the dark circles under her eyes, the slow, sluggish way she moved — and he'd caught her before she got into the driver's seat again and gently extracted the keys from her hand. She didn't fight him, and for that he was grateful; he didn't have it in him to argue.

Another eight hours and another shitty motel, and the next morning Rita didn't look any better than she had the day before. If anything, she looked worse. He was in the driver's seat again for the last leg of their journey, one hand on the steering wheel and the other cradling the energy drink he'd been nursing for the past twenty miles. When he'd made a pit stop at a gas station to refuel both him and the car, she'd been asleep, and hadn't even stirred when he got out. He'd grabbed some things for her to snack on and a water, and they remained in the back seat in a brown paper bag where he'd left them.

The first noise he heard from her was quiet mumbling, and he'd glanced over at her and smiled, thinking she was having a dream. But when mumbling turned into something more, raised cries where she jerked and flailed in her seat, he returned his can to the drink holder and reached over to place a hand on her leg.

"Hey," he said, checking his mirrors and preparing to pull over so he could give her his full attention, but with one final tremor, she became still and when he looked over again, she was awake.

"Got you some snacks and water," he said quietly, lifting his hand to reach behind him and grab the bag for her. "We're about five hours out now."

He didn't mention the nightmare, though when he glanced at her again, his forehead was wrinkled in concern and he sighed.

They'd been through too much shit to escape unscathed. Both of them.

When they finally entered Del Rio, the sky was just turning dark, but there was still plenty of light for him to take in every familiar landmark. For a time, he'd hadn't thought he'd be able to come back, but there he was. Nothing had really changed. There were a couple new chain restaurants, but it was still the same sleepy city where a day could feel like a week. It was on the border — one of the safer border towns, though it still had its share of crime driven by drug trafficking — and if Rita had a passport with her, they'd be able to cross the Rio Grande and visit its sister city Ciudad Acuña in Mexico. As they passed through the city, Leon pointed out this building or that lot and told some story about his childhood and the shenanigans he'd gotten into. He'd been a good kid, for the most part, so the tales weren't too exciting, but he was glad to be able to share with Rita.

Eventually, he pulled in front of a little brown house surrounded by a chainlink fence and the only yard in the immediate area that had a green lawn; there were flowers and plants everywhere, vivid and lush, and a sprinkler was chugging away. Everyone else had patchy sandy brown lots with little bits of brown vegetation, but not his grandma. As soon as their headlights hit the kitchen window, the lacy white curtains that adorned it were pulled back and he grinned at her expression — her eyebrows were drawn and her mouth was open as she peered out, and he knew she was trying to figure out who the hell was in her driveway at night.

"I didn't call her," he explained to Rita. "She has no idea we're here." He'd been afraid to warn her, even with a prepaid cellphone, because part of him thought they'd be watching her, maybe even screening her calls. It might even have been stupid to stop in to see her, but if they made the trip quick, he hoped nothing came of it.

After the curtains fell shut again, Leon put the car in park and reached over to squeeze Rita's hand. "We better get out and let her get a look at me before she calls the police."

As soon as he did and had shut the car door behind him, the curtains peeled back again and he waved.

The next thing he knew, the front door to her house opened and slammed and he was being hugged by a sobbing, gibbering woman and he laughed and squeezed and pulled her up into a bear hug, briefly lifting her off the ground. She held onto him for a while longer, occasionally lifting her head to look up at him with adoring eyes, petting at his chest before she clutched his shirt and began crying again.

When she finally extracted herself from him, it was with a shuddering sigh, and her face was red and blotchy, streaked with tears. She was a little shorter than Rita, thin, with black hair pulled back in a loose bun. There were streaks of grey at her temples and her face was beginning to show some lines, especially around her eyes and her mouth, but she was only in her early 60s, so she still had some aging to do. She pulled the bottom of her red apron up to wipe at her eyes, and when she lowered it again, her gaze fixed on Rita and then Leon.

She began speaking rapidly in Spanish, with the most repeated word bonita and her tone questioning, and Leon stepped forward to gently take her by the arms.

"En inglés," he said, laughing, then held his hand out to Rita. "This is Rita. She's ah… We're together."

"Oh, oh. I— Oh." And that's as far as she made it before she covered her mouth with her hands and made a little squealing noise behind her fingers.

"Rita, this is Maria, my grandmother. She's very happy to meet you."

 

[Meraki]

Rita couldn't sleep.

Over the next few nights, she tangled up in bed with Leon with her head on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing relaxed her but there was an innate fear in her heart about what she would see if she closed her eyes. When she was here, awake, she could convince herself that Leon was okay and that no one had managed to take him away from her the way they took Chase. Leon's heart was still beating, organs still organized neatly in his chest, and he was warm. So warm. It was hard not to be lulled into a shallow sleep, if one could even call it that, but it wasn't restful. Every time her eyes closed, she saw Chase and the trail of his body left behind in a subway train. She heard the screams of Leon as Lorelei shattered his bones and tortured him within an inch of his life.

Most nights she would jolt awake a bit, but never stir Leon. He just laid there with a protective arm around her, doing nothing but keeping her safe and secure in the darkness of the night. He didn't need to know – she saw his face in the containment units. He never wanted her to see any of that and she felt guilty for the way the fear and trauma set into her.

Eventually, it got to the point where she couldn't drive. Rita would nod off occasionally and on the last leg of the trip Leon reached for the keys and she did not fight him. She had to figure something out but it never seemed like the right time or the right place to bring it up. She pushed it down and out of mind, curled up in the passenger seat and passed out from pure exhaustion.

It was the worst nightmare yet.

It was the subway train, again, but this time she was on it. She was standing there, beside Leon, and when the man transformed like he did in the recording, Leon stepped in the way. He put his hands on Rita and shoved her away, stepped towards the werewolf, and Rita watched as he was torn apart. She could hear the screams, those same screams from his torture, and she watched as he was ripped inside out. Blood caked the floor and her hands – everything was red and when the wolf turned on her…she was frozen.

And when it lunged at her, she screamed.

It jolted her out of her sleep so fast that Rita had to visibly catch her breath. It took her a moment to process where she was. They were still in the car – Chase wasn't there – and the only werewolf was the man she cared for sitting in the passenger seat with a kind hand against her leg. She blinked a few times before looking up to him and if he had noticed the nightmare, he didn't mention it, and instead he handed her a paper bag with snacks and some water. She took the water and downed a few sips so it would ease the unease in her system. He made no mention of it and neither did she.

She was in no state to try and figure out the nightmares, but she also couldn't seem to get enough sleep to clear her mind and deal with them.

"Thanks," she said quietly, but it was all she could manage.

Before she really registered it, they were pulling into Del Rio and Rita realized they were getting close. Reaching for her bag, she pulled out a small makeup bag and pulled the visor down. If she was going to be meeting his grandmother, the last thing she wanted to flaunt were the bags under her eyes. Mothers and grandmothers were notorious for noticing the little things and so Rita made it a habit to never leave loose ends. She always overthought everything when it came to impressing someone. With a bit of cover-up and just enough makeup to make her face come alive, Rita actually looked human again. She didn't feel it, but looking it was half the battle. At least then she could convince herself she was fine.

They pulled up to a little house with a brilliant garden, lush green grass and an old little woman out front staring wide-eyed at Leon. "I don't blame you," Rita laughed as they moved from the car, "I wouldn't have called my mother either."

As they approached the house, the woman ran sobbing into Leon's chest and Rita couldn't help but smile. She was so small compared to him, but he was so gentle with her. Their arms wrapped around one another and smiles a mile wide on each of their faces. It was only when his grandmother's eyes fell on her did Rita return the smile and immediately the woman began rambling off in Spanish.

This is Rita. She's ah…we're together.

Smooth, Leon. Real smooth.

Maria raised her hands to her mouth, squealing in excitement and Rita moved forward to greet her. "Encantado de conocerla," she replied, her Spanish flowing better than it should have on very little sleep. She worked PR long enough to pick up a few languages – English, Spanish, French, and her Mandarin was rusty but useful. After expressing how pleased she was to meet her, Rita complimented her house and the small woman wrapped her arms around Rita in a bear hug of her own. It was only then did she grab one of Rita's hands and put it in Leon's, beckoning them into the house.

 

[Acorn]

"Didn't know you knew Spanish," Leon muttered at Rita as they walked towards the house hand in hand, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration. It wasn't like they'd had reason to discuss it before now, given that he defaulted to English unless he was talking to his grandmother. He'd been raised using both languages interchangeably and was fluent in both, but he found that even from a young age he'd thought and even dreamed in English. His grandmother was several steps ahead of them at this point, far enough that he felt comfortable leaning into Rita, raising an eyebrow at her and adding in a hushed voice, "She's gonna kick my ass for showing up without calling. She'll wait until you're not around, but she will."

But Leon was wrong — she only waited until they were both in the kitchen and sitting at her round dinner table before she swatted at his shoulder and started fussing. "You should have called! I could have had dinner ready. You haven't eaten, have you?" She didn't wait for a response before she moved away and began opening cabinets and pulling items from them to place on the counter. Even if they had said yes, he didn't think it would've stopped her. Maria cooked when she was nervous, when she was happy, and when she wanted to show her love: all three things were applicable, judging by the way she kept stopping to wring her hands, then glance and smile at Rita and Leon before she resumed her task.

Was it really any wonder he'd ended up as big as he was? There'd always been an excess of food; usually traditional, hearty meals, and for all he knew, his dad had been a taller guy, too. Only his mom knew that for sure, and no one had heard from her in twenty-five years.

"I can't believe you're here," she said. "How long has it been now?" she asked, and yet again, Leon didn't get a chance to respond before she continued. "Three years, Leon. I still think it's stupid your school made you leave like they did. Is that where you two met?"

"Something like that," Leon said, sneaking a smile at Rita.

The Enforcers had given him the lie to feed her and made it clear that if he deviated from their script, that they had ways of permanently eliminating leaks. He remembered laughing, mostly out of shock, but he'd believed them just enough to make the lie convincing when he'd let her know he'd been accepted into an out of state college, and had to move immediately. Now that he knew how the Enforcers worked, he was beyond thankful he'd gone along with them: they would have killed them both without hesitation if he'd told her the truth. Maybe now it would be different, since he (as far as he knew) was still the only werewolf that had successfully shifted back and forth outside of the full moon and there was value in that, but it still wasn't worth the risk.

It was better if she remained in the dark.

They ate, with Maria insisting he take seconds and frowning when he politely declined. "Fine, but I'll put leftovers in the refrigerator, and if you get hungry later you know where they are," she said: her way of relenting.

They talked, with Maria doing most of the talking, and perhaps making it clear to Rita why he was a man of few words. He'd learned early on that he needed to be succinct and wait for the best opportunity to sneak his opinion in (if he was allowed to have one). In private with Rita, he'd always talked more readily, but he was still nowhere near as verbose as his grandmother was.

Only when he stood and started clearing the table, announcing he'd retrieve their bags from the car after he finished cleaning did Maria finally stop talking and rush upstairs to ready a room for them.

"She turned it into a craft room," he said later as he stood in the doorway of his old room. The only thing remaining that he recognized was his old full-sized bed, with the same navy comforter he'd used before he'd moved out. All the shelves in that'd once displayed trophies, figurines, pictures, and books were filled with all the things she used in her hobbies — from quilting to knitting.

"Three years! And you had your apartment. You're lucky I left the bed!" Maria called from downstairs.

"Hearing hasn't gotten any worse," he mumbled and closed the door behind them.

Once he'd put their bags down, Leon turned to Rita. "How're you holding up?"

 

[Meraki]

"You never asked," Rita smirked as they followed Maria into her cozy little home.

It had been so long since Rita did anything remotely resembling family time – it all felt a bit unnatural. She was so used to the big city and running about that it was just hard to sit down and live a small town life again for a moment. Even before Chase died, their families would come visit them in the city and it would be a high-paced trip with a well-organized agenda. Her mother always wanted to see more, to do more, and Rita happily obliged because she understood. The big city was such a point of interest for those stuck in small towns and she felt the same thing when she first moved away from home. It was hard to remember that this was the kind of life she was born into, raised by – a small town, loving family. No matter how big or small, one grandmother or a whole litter of cousins, aunts and uncles…it was still home.

She sat and let Maria ramble off with her sweet voice and to be honest Rita was too tired to interject. She did not eat much at dinner, though she pushed herself to eat more than she felt like she could because his grandmother was so kind. Rita liked to listen, anyhow, and she watched as Leon and Maria interacted with amusement. They were quite a bit like each other, though she could see how Leon became such a patient man. His grandmother did not let him get at word in edgewise and she was quick. She reminded Rita of her own mother for a moment, but a lot less judgmental. Eventually, they could go upstairs and were ushered into Leon's old room which was now filled with craft supplies.

It brought a warm smile to Rita's face.

Leon turned to her and she expected his words. They'd been hanging in the air since they left the motel, but she was just too tired to deal with it. Between the lack of sleep and the overwhelming social interaction, she was just ready to lie her head down for a short while even if it didn't bring her real relief. She just needed to rest. "I'm fine," Rita said finally, slipping her arms around his waist and slowly resting her head against his chest in a gentle embrace. He was always so warm and she swore up and down she could have fallen asleep on her own two feet like that. "I'm just exhausted. The trip took more out of me than I thought."

That wasn't entirely false.

"You should go back down," Rita looked up at him and gave him a sleepy smile, "Who knows how long we'll be here and you should take the time to catch up. She missed you."

With a couple coaxing kisses, Rita ushered Leon from the room so he could go catch up with Maria. It was the least he deserved after everything he had been through. He gave up so much, including his grandmother, and Rita wanted him to have the time to spend with her. Not everyone got that chance – to rekindle with someone they'd lost – and Rita knew if she had the chance, she would have done it. Rita pulled on one of Leon's t-shirts and crawled into his bed, snuggling beneath the comforter and passing out almost immediately.

There was darkness when she closed her eyes.

That night she dreamed of Chase. She could remember him vividly this time. Every single detail on his face apparent – the blonde stubble and messy hair. His bright, brilliant eyes. He was holding her, arms wrapped around her waist as he peppered kisses against her neck and she cried. She clung to him with so much fervor she was worried she would hurt him, but he was there and she felt him. All the grief was lifted from her heart and she felt like herself – like the woman she was before all of this. Carefree and a bit reckless, full of laughter and love and hope. Maybe this wasn't a nightmare, because it felt like a dream.

"What's got you so worked up, Ri?" Chase's hands came back to cup her cheeks as his thumbs wiped the tears away, "I told you I'd be home soon. I'm here. No need to blubber, it's all okay. Didn't I promise it would be?"

"You—" she started, but he cut her off.

"I am here now, alright?" he smiled wide and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "I love you, Ri."

"God," Rita sobbed, her head shaking, "I love you so much. I miss you every single day of my life, Chase. Every single god damn second."

She crushed her lips against his and held him close, tears still falling freely as she lost herself in the man who stole her heart first. He was all around her, arms wrapped tightly and she felt a sense of relief she hadn't felt in such a long time. "Rita," she heard another voice behind her and when she opened her eyes, she was in a containment unit, the space in front of her where Chase was stood vacant and she whipped her head around to see Leon. His body crumpled to the ground, Lorelei's hand out and a devious grin on her face as Rita realized what was happening. His face was crumpled in pain, both from the image of her with Chase and the way Lorelei shattered his insides.

"You've made your choice, Rita," Lorelei teased.

Rita moved to stop her but in an instant Lorelei snapped her wrist up and Rita watched in horror as a scream tore from Leon's throat before he fell to the floor, limp. His eyes were open, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and Rita let out a scream. "No!" Rita ran to him, her hands trying to find a pulse as all the levity she felt with Chase came crashing down around her. This was her fault. She lost Leon because she could not give up Chase and for the first time Rita felt hopeless. Tears streamed as she shook Leon's body and pounded on his chest with broken, heartbreaking sobs. Lorelei's laughter danced through the air like a flame, igniting the anger in Rita that broke into hopelessness.

"No, no, no," Rita sobbed, "Leon please come back to me."

"Now for what I should have done months ago," Lorelei said as she took control of Rita's body and suddenly it was impossible to breathe. Rita gasped but it was no use, she could feel her face deepening in color as she fought against the feeling of suffocating, "You are the problem, Rita."

"It's always been you."

Rita didn't just jolt this time, she shot up in bed with a heaved gasp, her breathing erratic and broken with tears streaking her cheeks. Her sobs broke through her shallow breathing and it was a painful, awful sound.

She couldn't keep doing this. She wouldn't survive it.

 

[Acorn]

Leon left Rita with the feeling of her lips still on his, and he should've been bolstered by her reassurances, but he only felt apprehension when he thought about leaving her alone. Leon wasn't sure where it came from — whether it was his own selfish desire to remain at her side every moment he could or if it was because he was worried about her. Perhaps it was both. Why limit himself? He stood at the door after he'd closed it behind him, listening to the sound of her rummaging through their bags, and then the squeaking of a bed easily ten years past its expiration date.

He hoped she'd be able to sleep more restfully than she had in the car.

With that thought, he turned from the door and made his way back downstairs where his grandmother waited at her round dining table with two bottles of beers open; one in front of her and another in front of the spot next to her. They drank and talked, though it was primarily Maria running the show again, but as the night wore on and they opened their second and third bottles, she asked about Rita and let him talk for a while. At first, Leon stumbled through his sentences because it was hard to talk through the grin he wore when he spoke of her, but he gained speed as he went on.

"I don't know," he said. "She's just always been there. Every time I've needed her, she was there." He smiled as he brought the lip of the bottle to his mouth and took a sip.

"She sounds very special."

"You have no idea," said Leon, his smile turning crooked and awkward when he realized how adamant he'd been.

"Oh, mijo, no. Don't be embarrassed. She's—"

It was then they both heard the sobbing from upstairs, and they both made to stand, but Leon was the one who first came to his feet fully and he reached out to place his hand atop his grandmother's. "It's alright. I've got it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Just— Maybe don't say anything in the morning about it, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, sitting back down and sighing, but she didn't say anything else.

Leon took the stairs two at a time, and when he opened the door, light from the hallway flooded the room, shining a spotlight on her distress. His face was drawn as he closed the door behind him and went to her, his feet remembering exactly how many steps it was from the doorway to the bed. He sat next to her, lifting the covers so he could join her completely.

"Hey," he said quietly, reminiscent of the response he'd had when she'd had her nightmare in the car earlier. But this time, he could gather her up and hold her like he'd wanted. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in close so her face was pressed against his chest and his shirt wicked away her tears, leaving a warm wetness against his skin. He stroked the back of her head, smoothed her hair, and he hushed her underneath his breath.

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," he said, trying to sound confident, but who the fuck was he to say? And that doubt, that niggling doubt, made his voice waver as he repeated the words over and over to her; a chant, his prayer.

It's okay.

You're okay.

If he said it enough, maybe it would be true.

 

[Meraki]

It's okay. You're okay.

Rita didn't even register that Leon was there until she felt the warmth of him followed by those few short words. Immediately, the sobs strengthened as she fell into his chest, her hands clutching his shirt and any other part of him that she could manage. What was wrong with her? The guilt ran deep in her veins as she realized that this wasn't fair to him. How was it fair that she still felt what she felt for Chase? How was it fair that he had to come up and console her when he hadn't seen his own grandmother in three years? Her tears stained his shirt, soaked it near through and she curled up impossibly small. She hated feeling like this – but it always happened this way. Her whole life she learned to compartmentalize and keep the pain from touching her, no matter what it was, but it was coming back to haunt her.

Literally haunting her in the form of crippling nightmares.

"I'm sorry," she whispered finally, her words broken and tired. Her head was against his chest, her ear listening to the rhythmic and healthy beat of his heart. He was alive. God, he was alive. It all felt so real, every moment, every detail, and she wondered when Lorelei managed to get her claws into her so deeply. Maybe it was trauma from the experience, or maybe when Lorelei tapped her forehead she had done more than just make Rita watch the videos. Rita didn't know, she had no idea how witches functioned, but whatever bout of trauma or dark magic was bringing these nightmares, it had to stop.

She was losing her god damn mind.

"He—I—" she tried to speak but it came out in choked, shallow breaths as her racing heart worked to ebb, "Lorelei she—I couldn't…"

she took a deep, shaky breath, "They're always t-the same. You and Chase and I—I have to watch him die. I have to watch you die. And sometimes I have to watch both and it feels so real I—I swear he was there. I swear your heart stopped. I couldn't breathe, I just…"

She hated sounding like this. She hated not being able to get her words out in full, functioning sentences. She was trying to express it to him, but she knew that guilt and pain was etched all over her face. They'd been together for how long now? Maybe they'd never talked about what they were, but Rita knew what she felt, and she hated that Leon would move the world for her, protect her from any demon or harm, and she repaid him with this – haunting memories of her dead fiancé. How could he not hate her for that?

After all, she hated herself for it.

"It's never going to stop is it? The nightmares?" Rita asked, her voice sounding pitiful and broken, "I just feel like I can't close my eyes anymore because when I do, I lose you both.