"So... what do we do with him?"

Muse and Eric stood staring at Isaac where he slumped in the back seat of his car, unconscious. He was still breathing, so throwing him in a hole wasn't an option - or at least, so Eric had insisted.

"I don't know, I guess just... bring him upstairs, or something. Put him in his room. I guess," Eric offered distractedly, staring down at the stump of his arm and the occasional spark that would arc from one wire to another where the metal was exposed. Every time this happened, he'd twitch in pain. "I have to go do something about this."

"Do you need my help?" Muse reached out and touched his arm curiously, poking at it just above where it ended in jagged shards of metal. She had never seen anything like it, except on stupid science fiction shows. She yelped and pulled her hand back as an arc of electricity shot from the twisted metal to her hand.

Eric had pretty much the same reaction, jumping back and shooting her a glare. "Hey watch it! And no, really, no offense, you’ll do more harm than good. I can take care of this myself, thanks."

"Sorry."

Eric scratched his head with his only hand. Somewhere in the fight, he had lost his blast goggles. "I didn't mean to snap. I'm just... this hurts. I'm going to go fix this... can you deal with Isaac?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Cool… See you later." Eric walked off without another word, heading inside. Ezekiel had long since scrambled off around the edge of the house to the back, leaving her alone.

She wasn't quite sure what to do about this. Muse knew she couldn't - or at least, shouldn't – just leave Isaac sitting there. Letting out a long sigh, she finally realized she had no other choice. Getting him out of the back of the car was a rather clumsy ordeal, but she was more than strong enough to deal with his dead weight. She threw him over her shoulder again, holding onto his legs. She laughed quietly at what it must have looked like as she walked into the house.

"Where're we going...?"

Muse stopped, realizing after a moment that the voice had come from the man slung over her shoulder. "I don't know, you tell me." Part of her was relieved he was awake. Part of her was wondering why the hell she cared.

"Upstairs," he mumbled out.

"'Kay."

Heading up the stairs with him still over her shoulder, she stopped. "Where to?"

Twisting her head to look behind her, she saw him gesture weakly to the left. He spoke up quietly. "This is both... painful... and humiliating."

"It was either this or dragging you by your feet."

“Fair enough...”

Heading through the only door she could have figured was his room, she blinked. She wasn't sure what she expected his room to look like, but what she found was shockingly normal looking. Most of the furniture looked to be antique and well maintained. She brought him over to the large king bed and put him down as gently as she could. Muse waited, wondering if there was anything she should do.

Muse wasn't sure how much blood a person was supposed to be able to lose - but she was pretty sure Isaac had lost far more than that. His shirt was stuck to him, the original color of it almost indiscernible beneath the large blackish-red splotch that covered his torso. She had a feeling that he wouldn't be living now unless he had some help from something else. But, still, he seemed to fear what the Crusaders would have done to him.

"Why?" Isaac breathed out, laying his head down on the pillow.

"Huh?"

"You could have left me there."

"I don't think leaving you in the back seat of your-"

"I mean the museum..." he was talking, yes, but he still sounded feverish, like he wasn't quite sure what he was saying. He turned his head to look at her, but his grey eyes weren't focused on her.

It took her a moment to realize what he was asking her. She opened her mouth to speak, and then stopped - not sure how to phrase her answer. Mainly because she didn't know what her answer was.

"If you had left me..."

"Yeah. I know." If she had left him there, she'd be free of him. She wouldn't have this sociopath lording over her, bossing her around and electrocuting her like a bad pet every time she acted up. "I didn't think about it." It was true, she hadn't. She had just reacted. "You don't just leave people to die."

Isaac was silent, lying there with his eyes shut. She had no idea if he was even awake at this point. Not wanting to stand there and think about it, Muse turned and headed out of the room, shutting the door behind her quietly. She needed sleep. She needed to think about all this.

Life.

It seems he couldn’t win, either way.

It seemed that in his life, it was always to be one of two things - either Aaron’s life was mundane and boring, or it was torturous and horrible. At least in situations like this, he could fill his time with reading novels and watching movies.

He let out a small sigh as he stuffed his laundry into the washing machine. Staying out of the way of everyone else was easy here. He had everything he needed in the basement. He had no real reason to go upstairs and talk to anyone. Except, despite it all, Aaron was prone to bouts of loneliness, like everyone else.

He had gone upstairs to talk to Muse, only to find out that she had been dragged along on some suicidal errand by his brother. Narrowing his eyes at the thought, he pounded his fist into the washing machine, wishing it was his brother he was denting and not the metal of the innocent appliance. Stopping, he sighed. Breaking the washing machine wasn’t going to do him any good.

Isaac was abusive, cruel, sadistic, and an empty-hearted sociopath. There was nothing good that he could do to anyone, and it infuriated Aaron that Muse was stuck in his grasp. The goth girl was too sweet-hearted to be around Isaac. He would only ruin her. If he hasn’t already, he thought to himself. He hated when his mind just served to further infuriate him for no good.

Dumping the laundry detergent onto the clothing, he shut the lid and started pressing buttons. It seemed that even the washing machine was going to give him a hard time. Jabbing at the start button several times, he changed his opinion. Punching the appliances might do a world of good. Slamming his fist down on the machine, he smiled in victory as the wash cycle started. Turning around, he nearly had a heart attack.

“Hey, Aaron.”

Barely managing to keep himself from leaping into the air, he looked down at Muse. She was propped against the doorframe, her arms crossed. She didn’t look pleased. Frowning, he stepped up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Muse, what’s wrong?”

“Isaac.”

“Not much of a surprise there…” Aaron walked past her, waving for her to follow him. He walked to the fridge that he had stuffed in a corner, opened it up and grabbed two beers. Holding one out to her, she shook her head.

“No, thanks.”

Aaron shrugged lightly and put it back in the fridge. It dawned on him slowly that he had never seen the girl eat, never seen the girl drink. He silently laughed it off. It was impossible for someone to do neither, it was just a coincidence.

“No worries.” Aaron settled down in a chair by a small pocked wooden table he had found. Muse basically fell into the chair across from him. “What’s wrong?”

“So, yesterday, with the fight… Isaac got beat up really badly. I could have left him there. I could have, and then he’d be dead by now, and I’d be in the clear… I guess we both would be. But I didn’t. I dragged his ass out of there, and… I don’t know. I think I wish I hadn’t.” She slumped on the table, resting her chin on her arm, talking to the dented wood grain tabletop.

“Muse,” he breathed out with another sigh. He scooted close to her and reached out, running his hand slowly along her hair. He wanted to pull her close, wanted to hold her and make the world better. But his overwhelming shyness kept that merely a dream. “Would you honestly have been okay with yourself if you left him there?”

“I’m starting to think so.”

“You don’t mean that.” Aaron stroked her hair again gently, soft under his fingers. He let his hand settle on her shoulder. “I don’t think you could have left anyone behind, no matter what they had done. You’re not like him, and I don’t think you’re capable of sinking to that level…”

“Thanks,” Muse said with a small laugh.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with another smile. Leaning back, he pulled his hand off her shoulder. He ran his thumb slowly along his palm, still feeling her soft hair on his hand. Pushing all errant thoughts to the back of his mind, he picked up his beer and took a large swig off of it.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Aaron looked up at her and smiled curiously. What the hell. Worth a shot. "If you want to keep away from the guys upstairs, I'm sure there's a movie on TV or something..." Oh, yes - win the affection of a lady with crappy television movies. Aaron scolded himself loudly in his brain, preparing himself for the rejection before he even finished the sentence.

"Sure."

He hadn't expected that. He wasn't even sure now what to do. Maybe stop being an idiot, he yelled at himself in his brain again. Standing up he looked down at her again with the same smile, hoping he was at least somewhat successfully hiding how awkward he felt.

"Just... no horror movies," Muse said with a small laugh. "I've had enough gore for a few days."

"Then you're in the wrong place."

It had been three days and nobody had heard anything from Isaac. He hadn't left his room. For all they knew, he was dead. Victor and Eric had tried to convince her that she was best suited to go check on him because 'corpses shouldn't bother her.' In truth, they really, really did. But she didn't feel like revealing that she got squeamish at the idea, let alone the sight. Mal pointed out that she was still 'the new kid,' so, therefore, she had to go check on Isaac. Although the logic of that still escaped her, it didn't change the fact that she was now studying the wood of Isaac's door from the other side.

Looking around her to make sure no one - specifically Aaron - was around, she dissolved and stepped through the door, reforming on the other side.

"You really must learn to knock."

Muse yelped in surprise. She had expected to find a rotting body in a bed. What she found was Isaac standing in front of his large dresser mirror, rooting through a drawer. He was only wearing a thin white undershirt, the onyx necklace dangling around his neck. Muse gaped. There was no wound. He looked... fine. She didn't have time to think about it as he turned to eye her, displeased.

"Yes?"

"I. Uh-" Muse coughed. "I was checking to see if you were alright."

"You mean alive."

"Well, that still falls under the category of 'alright.'" She crossed her arms across her chest. He didn't have to get snippy with her.

"I suppose." Isaac pulled a shirt out of the drawer, and slipping his arms into the sleeves, began to button it up in front of him. "I am alive. You can all breathe your genuine sighs of relief."

Muse raised an eyebrow. He didn't even try to pull the sarcasm. "Look, man, whatever. You lost whatever it was you were trying to get and got your ass kicked. If you want to be bitter, fine, but we’re just trying to express some concern here and-"

"Do not lecture me, Muse," Isaac cut in harshly. He suddenly shut his eyes, put both hands on the dresser for support, and leaned his head forward. It looked like he was going to be sick, fall over, pass out, or some combination of the three. He was suddenly very pale.

"Isaac..?”

After a long pause, he straightened up. "I'm fine. Enough of this," Isaac abruptly strode towards the door. "We have other things to attend to. Come. And, Muse, I am feeling less than my best. I would appreciate it if once - just this once, perhaps - you would simply do as I ask without any of your usual annoyances."

Muse stayed silent.

"Please."

"Sure..."

Isaac nodded once and opened the door, heading down the stairs. She followed behind him and found herself contemplating the strange man she was walking behind. He was still horribly pale - well, paler than usual. He was haggard, his eyes glinting in pain and something else - rage. Slowly, she realized that he was holding back on his temper with her. In his own stupid way, he probably thought he was being nice. That, and someone was very quickly going to be the recipient of his temper. Hopefully, she could keep herself from stepping in front of that particular bullet. Rounding into the kitchen, Isaac caught Eric and Mal by surprise.

"You all have..." Isaac checked his watch. “Two hours to get ready. At sundown, we're leaving."

"Okay, Boss..." Eric said quietly, looking at the sorcerer with a startled expression.

"Where to?" Mal asked gruffly from the table.

Unimportant. Just be ready to go," Isaac clipped. "And Eric? Inform your brother." He paused, apparently waiting for some sort of protest. "Good,” he said as he turned and stepped out of the room, heading back up the stairs.

Muse followed him. She didn't really know why. He hadn't told her to, but something in the back of her brain was screaming that something was wrong. It wasn't long before the little screaming concern was validated. Isaac's knees suddenly buckled, and he slammed his palm on the wall in an effort to keep from falling over. She appeared next to him, taking hold of his other arm, keeping him from pitching forward.

"Isaac,” she said quietly. “You’re not okay.”

Standing up slowly, he turned and rested back against the wall, looking down at her. She expected some sort of egotistical rage, some indignant insistence that he was fine, some sharp command to get away from him. What she got instead, shocked her. Pain, exhaustion, and a strange, beleaguered amusement were written across his features.

"It seems that one cannot lose one’s entire content of blood and expect to be roses so quickly..."

"No, I guess not." Muse let go of his arm tentatively. "Do you really think, that, whatever it is we're doing tonight, that it's a good idea if you're like this?"

"I have no choice. I've lost enough time as it is."

"Okay..." She knew better than to press the subject. He wouldn't be swayed. A voice, juxtaposed to the screaming one in the back of her brain was now asking her why the hell she cared. Running her hands slowly through her hair, she didn't know which to listen to. The voice that said she should be empathetic, if only because he was suffering, or the voice that wanted to yell some anatomical suggestion and take the moment to kick him down the stairs.

Isaac straightened back up and started walking towards his room. Unsure of what to do, she simply stood there. Isaac got to his door under his own power and opened it. He looked back at her, and in a rare moment, smiled an odd and morose smile. "I do sometimes wonder why you all put up with me."

"You have a piece of my soul. And you pay the boys."

"Ah, yes." He chuckled once, the same odd expression on his face as he shut the door between them.

Well, that came out wrong. Muse swore at herself in her brain. Good job. Muse let out a sigh, as both of the voices in her head were now calling her an idiot in unison.