I can't believe he did that. I can't believe he fucking did that! I trusted him...

What about me does Raiden hate so much? Why can't he appreciate all I've done for him to keep him safe? Maybe I should take Thomas up on his offer. I certainly don't know how to control him, and anything he could give me would definitely be appreciated.

Back downstairs, the blood has stayed completely in the kitchen. It'll make it so much easier to clean up. Mom is still a couple of minutes away, so I gather a pair of disposable gloves, a sponge, a bucket, and a couple other cleaning products and get to work.

After marking where all the blood pools are, I dip the sponge into the cool soapy water and wring it out as much as I can. I start with the smaller drips, saving the bigger mess for later.

Mom walks in with one bag and sets it on the table. One look at the floor has her nodding with a raised eyebrow. "What did he do?"

"I let him out of my sight for two seconds when I went to respond to your text, and he tried to get out through the garage. I thought we were really getting somewhere..."

"It's normal, hun. He just needs more time."

"More time, more time. How much more time, Mom?"

She steps carefully around the biggest puddle and ruffles my hair. "You'll see when it happens. It's not sudden, so just keep at it."

As I clean up the rest of the mess, she just leans against the counter and watches. "Can I get some help, please?"

"No. You have to learn how to do this on your own."

I audibly sigh to show my exasperation, but she's right.

"How bad is he hurt?"

"He's in pain, but that's all." The floor looks spotless, so I stand up and take the bloody bucket water and pour it down the drain. The bucket is set aside to be washed out later, but the sponge goes straight into a new trash bag. Along with it come my gloves and the clothes I'm wearing as soon as I've changed out of them and into new, clean clothes and gloves.

From the bag on the table, I take out a dust mask and place it over my face before grabbing the scrubbing brush and hydrogen peroxide. As I drizzle the peroxide over the floor in the places I marked had blood, Mom jumps up to sit on the counter to watch me. Once everything is covered, I set the bottle back on the table and kneel down, scouring everything with the brush thoroughly. Once everything is scrubbed down, I wipe up the remaining liquid with a rag. Everything else goes in the bag too.

I take the bucket and knife into the bathroom to clean after I help Mom with the groceries she left in the car.

~~~

Hours later, everything is spotless and inconspicuous. Everything that needs to be burned is in the garbage bag except for the clothes Raiden is wearing.

Everything else is dealt with and several hours have already passed, but I don't want to see him. Still, I can't put it off for too long. This all needs to be burned, but we can't start a fire in our neighborhood. As much as she hates excessive driving, Mom agreed to take it to someone we trust who can get rid of it for us safely.

But that can't be done until I have everything.

Sucking it up, I begrudgingly make my way up into the attic. Raiden doesn't move. I unlatch the chain and stand, motioning towards him with my hand. "Up."

Immediately, he obeys. When I reach for him, he offers me his arm. My nails dig into his forearm as I take it, earning me a quiet hiss of pain from him. He stays silent after that, but his arm shakes in my grip.

With no resistance, he follows me into the bathroom and sits on the toilet lid. As I turn on the hot water to soak an old washcloth, I ask him to take off his shirt. It's already in his hands when I turn around, and he gives it to me when I hold out my hand. It goes in the bag waiting in the hallway, and I go back to him.

I wring the rag out and take it to his arm. The moment it comes in contact with his skin, he jerks his arm back an inch before his eyes widen and he offers it back.

"What?"

He avoids my eye contact without giving me an answer. God, I hate this already.

"What? Is it too hot?"

He nods at that, so I turn the temperature down before resoaking it. Once it's wrung out, I place it against the side of his neck. "Is that fine?"

He nods again, so I go back to his arm. He shudders every time I run over a cut but holds in all protests. The rest of his torso is cleaned of his blood without any further problems. The cuts resemble strange red stripes, and I have to turn away to not laugh. I trade the bloody rag for clean clothes and set them on the sink counter in front of Raiden.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and change."

His gaze drifts from the new clothes to his legs and up to me, his face visibly heating as he doesn't move.

My head throws itself back as my patience grows thin. I leave the bathroom and pull the door in without closing it completely. "You have thirty seconds."

Sounds of rustling clothes come through the door immediately and I count in my head. Twenty-five seconds later, I push the door open again. Raiden finishes pulling the shirt over his head as I grab the rest of the dirty clothes and throw them in the garbage bag with the rest of the stuff that needs to be burned.

I step into the hallway and jerk my head to the side to call him out with me. I pull the bag over my shoulder and point him towards the stairs. "Go back and wait for me. I'll be up in a minute."

I take the bag down to the kitchen as his footsteps disappear up the stairs. Mom takes the bag from me and runs through a list. "Is this everything that had his blood on it?"

"Yeah, other than the bucket and knife."

"Did you bleach them?" she asks, looking through the bag to double check my work.

"Yes."

"Was it oxidized bleach?"

"Yes, I remember everything you taught me."

"Do you?" She looks at me with skepticism, but I'm confident. "Okay, then why do we use oxidized bleach, specifically, and hydrogen peroxide?"

I know this. Still, I want to prove myself, so I slow down and think over my words before I answer. "Hydrogen peroxide overreacts with the hemoglobin in the blood; the overreaction tires it out so it won't react with luminol if anyone ever tries to investigate it. That leaves no trace of blood. Oxidized bleach has a similar effect, but the smell of bleach makes more sense coming from a bucket than the floor, and the knife is going to be washed again anyway."

She runs her hand through my hair and caresses my cheek. "Good job. I'll be back soon, okay? Start dinner for me while I'm out." With a kiss on my temple, she's gone.

Once I'm alone, I head back upstairs, not forgetting for a second that I left Raiden without any supervision. Much to my delight, he's sitting with his hands in his lap and his legs outstretched. I replace the shackle around his ankle without a fight from him and without a word from either of us. Everything is double checked, but as I reach the stairs again, I stop, sigh, and decide to be the bigger man.

Setting the hatch on the ground, I walk over and kneel in front of him so we're at the same eye-level. He doesn't try to shy away, but I set a hand on each side of his face anyway, just to make sure he stays this way.

"Rai, I'm going to be honest with you. I am extremely pissed at what you did today. I put my trust in you, and you completely let me down. Do you understand me?"

Tears build at the edges of his eyes, but he keeps himself together and nods.

"Good." I run my thumbs under his eyes, clearing the remaining tears before they can fall. He closes his eyes as I pass by them, nuzzling into my hands. "I'm disappointed in your actions, but I don't love you any less. Okay?"

He nods as I lean my forehead against his.

"I want to hear you say it. I still love you the same, okay?"

An audible sigh escapes him; I can feel his breath on my lips. "Okay..."

"Okay." I lean into a kiss. One that he doesn't immediately pull away from. I can't be sure if it's my imagination making up what I want to believe or if it's actually happening, but I sense him leaning in, kissing me back, wanting me.

I pull away before I get too into it. Neither of us has anything to say as we part, so I leave him alone. I replace the stairs once I'm out, leaving him to his thoughts, getting ready to start dinner.