The sight of two overly beautiful girls clinging together, their faces as red as Shara's hair, would be too much for any man to bear. Even a gay man might be tempted! Scott, while not homosexual, was still a red-blooded male. Therefore the only way that he could survive the moment with his sanity intact was to coax Shara into dragging Sonja off to find her some proper clothes.

It took quite a bit of convincing, and a promise to go out and explore town later, before Sonja accepted the situation. Only upon learning that Shara was a dear friend from his childhood, however, did she finally relent. She had certain questions that she would like to see answered.

Scott sighed heavily as he stared down into the sink. "I really need to get a grip on those stupid voices in my head."

What man received an opportunity like the one that he currently possessed? There were two incredibly beautiful, and quirky, women who showed a strange amount of interest in him. Neither seemed particularly reserved about getting their 'freak' on. It should be like a reward from life itself. Hey! Your life was shit for a decade, here's a couple of hot busty ladies with cool personalities who desire your manly bits and at least tolerate each other well enough to look at clothes together. It was that sort of ridiculous situation.

Thoughts of their previous encounter made him smile slightly, even as those stupid voices continued to rage inside his head. He couldn't help himself. Though, the pain of those voices forced him to close his left eye and cringe, the image of Sonja looking up at him while Shara vibrantly cuddled her on the floor was just too much to bear.

The smile faded somewhat, however. Tears flowed from that left eye, even as his right eye somewhat managed to stay open. "Not this time, dammit. I refuse to feel bad about liking what I saw and thought."

His hands trembled even as he splashed more water on his face. A particularly nasty voice screamed obscenities at him, while images of his past attempted to invade his thoughts.

"Why does this shit keep happening to me?" he growled angrily. He bit his lower lip with enough force to draw blood.

At least this time there was no one around to see his break down. Sonja had seen a few too many of his episodes, though her response to the most recent outburst was one that surprised him greatly and permanently endeared her to him.

Desirous of a few minutes without his voices, Scott fought them in the only way that he could. He decided to reminisce over happier times. His thoughts immediately went to the discussion that he had with Sonja.

A few hours earlier in the dream world, Scott reached the point of no return. It was a point where it would become impossible, normally, for him to draw himself out of the dark pit of emotional despair that the voices often dragged him down into when they appeared. The scene that encapsulated the worst day of his life unfolded for him once more, and he sank down into the memory.

Sonja's soft, gentle, voice called to him from a few hours ago as he used the memory to steady his resolve. "What's wrong?"

Trembling hands rose up to curl lightly around each other. His lightly curled hands continued to shake as his breathing became labored. It was his fault. All his fault. If he had done something, listened more, his sister would be alive.

Scott heard Sonja calling to him but he did not recognize her in that moment. She was just one more voice lost in the maelstrom of his self-recriminations and the deep-seeded knowledge of his ultimate failure.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His eyes remained wide open, but he thought himself to only have seen the terrible memory, the corpse of his sister. Yet, in hindsight he remembered things that he did not recognize at the time.

Gentle hands attempted to get his attention. Sonja lightly shook his shoulder while her words came more swiftly. She wanted to know what was wrong with him. He did nothing for a moment, and even lost track of his human form. Scott's grasp on his own identity as a man failed. Soon, he was the dragon once more.

The tiny reptile curled into a ball and continued to shake. The blazing red light in his eyes dimmed and became classy.

Unable to stand it any longer, Sonja picked him up and held him to her chest. She no longer asked him what was wrong. She held him close and gently stroked his scales.

Her face to his back, she began to whisper softly. "I'm here."

Scott could not have known it at the time, but Sonja did tell him of it later. She recognized the way that he had acted. She too acted in the same manner when she was a child. There were many nights were she trembled in impotent rage, and endless sadness, while she slept inside her bridal cage.

The look on his face. The implications, and then trembling. She knew them well. Certain questions she had throughout their time together made more sense in light of her revelation. Just like her, and like the little dark elf Saelil, he too was trapped in a dark and miserable place hoping that salvation would come.

"I'm here," she whispered softly to him while she pressed her cheek against his tiny shoulder blades.

He fell limp in her arms after a time. The dark moment finally passed. Her soft words and gentle demeanor roused him from his nightmare.

Leathery eye lids opened to reveal tiny red eyes. Scott, Blackthorne, whatever he wished to call himself at the time, did not move. He continued to hang limply in Sonja's arms.

For the first time, in what seemed like forever, he knew what it was for someone to actually give a damn about him. There were no ulterior motives. There was no sudden re-emergence in his life while making an attempt to force a renewed friendship. There was no baggage, or strange work issues. There was only the simple efforts of a young girl who genuinely wanted him to feel safe.

Quite some time passed, perhaps an entire hour, as he continue to lie quietly in her arms. Scott eventually sighed and told her, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Sonja continued to say nothing, but she did increase the intensity of her petting.

More time passed before he felt comfortable speaking. Of course, the first thing that he had said at the time angered Sonja.

"No! I do not wish to be set free," she had said in a cold tone.

"You'd be better off. This isn't a new thing with me," said the little dragon. "I'll probably be like this my entire life."

"Listen to me, not to the lies that you tell yourself," she said in a calm and measured tone. "I am where I want to be."

"Lies?" asked Scott, anger rising in his voice. He twisted his head around to look at her. If looks could poison, he held a terrible venom in his serpentine eyes.

Sonja gazed impassively into his eyes. "Terrible things have happened in your past. That sort of hurt makes people push others away, as you now attempt to push me away."

Scott growled at her then snapped his head sideways. He said nothing for a while, but when he finally did speak it was to explain part of his situation. "It was not me who was hurt... it was someone else."

Her gentle fingers slipped softly along his scales. "It is obvious that you are also hurt by this thing that happened, otherwise you would not have these terrible moments happen to you."

"What if I deserve—" he began.

"You do not," she stated decisively.

Scott snorted at her words, but did not look back at her. Acid in his tone, he bitterly asked, "How the hell would you know what I deserve?"

"A man who carries a little blind girl across the grassland on his back with no guarantee of reward is not a man who deserves nightmares," said Sonja. Her voice never wavered as she continued. "A man who can look me in the eyes, and see more than the whore that I chose to become, is not a man who deserves to tremble on the ground while his past torments him."

After several long, silent, minutes passed he asked, "And if I'm the sort of man who does nothing when his little sister is raped and murdered? Am I still undeserving of torment?"

"I do not believe that," she said in the same decisive tone.

"Well it happened!" snapped Scott. He started to squirm his way out of her grasp, but he could not free himself, not without choosing to hurt her.

"You truly wish me to believe that?" she asked him softly, her hands still gripping his wriggling form tightly to her mighty bosom.

"It doesn't matter what you believe!" snarled Scott. The voices began to return in earnest, even as he became desperate to free himself.

"If that is the case, then tell me what happened," she said softly.

"It's none of—" began Scott, only for him to sigh and then stop himself. As much as he wanted to run away from what she was doing, there was a part of him which understood that his past was her business. They were joined together now, possibly for a long time. If he flaked out in the middle of a fight, it would be a problem.

Thoroughly convinced that she would finally see the truth, that he deserved his pain, Scott related to Sonja all that had transpired in the past. He went into brutal, agonizing, detail about how his sister continued to show signs that something was wrong but he was oblivious. He spoke of how he failed to protect, and even failed to kill the man responsible.

"No matter how ruthlessly I beat that sick piece of shit, the bastard just wouldn't die. Blood went everywhere," whispered dragon Scott. His eyes glazed over slightly as he recounted the strangely long period of time that he spent beating his step-father. In truth, it was surprising that the man survived such a thing. "I could have sworn that I broke his bones, shattered his skull a dozen times over, but for some reason he just wouldn't die."

Scott's triangular head dropped low and he closed his eyes. "I wasn't even strong enough to punish the trash that did it to her..."

Suddenly, resolve came to his voice. Chest heaving, his head snapped back toward Sonja's face. His eyes wide and shimmering with as yet unspent tears of self-reproach. He actually barked out a misery laden laugh as he cried, "You see! I'm garbage! I couldn't even protect my little sister!"

Sonja's eyes were closed. Tears tracked down her cheeks as her eyes opened. Her lips trembled slightly and her nostrils flared a little. "I don't have much use for men in general, human ones especially, but I would have killed to have had an older brother like you when my husband came to claim me."

"Wha--?" asked Scott, thoroughly confused.

"You did everything you could. You didn't do wrong to your sister, you tried to slay the one who did. You are not the one in the wrong!" she told him emphatically.

Scott stared incredulously at her for a moment. It was the first time in his life that someone was so emphatic about the rightness of his actions. Shara, seemed to be convinced he'd done no wrong but there was something a little off about her. One other person, his father's former partner and the current sheriff, did not think ill of him. Though, the sheriff did keep an eye on him now and then just in case. Even his own mother thought him a degenerate monster for the way that he brutally beat his supposedly innocent step-father.

Sonja was the first sort of normal person in his life whom showed him such a strong sense of belief in the rightness of his actions. Certainly, her own experience at the hands of evil men and her racial tendency toward being warriors colored her perceptions. However, her tear stained eyes and sincerity shook Scott's reptilian heart deeply.

The memory of that time resonated with him for a moment longer, before Scott's thoughts returned to the present day. Throughout his reminiscence, the water continued to run. In many ways that water was similar to his life. Constantly running, and never anywhere but further down the drain.

Scott looked at the swirling water for a time then shut it off. Maybe it did not have to be that way anymore? What was there to run from?

"It's been a while," he said quietly. "I should go visit them, soon. They're probably wondering where I've been."

Thoughts on those whom he had lost, he failed to notice the sound of his phone ringing for quite some time. His mind a decade away, and on happier days, it could not be helped.