Qumo didn't know how they managed to get out of that mess. They hadn't seen a soul after they left those three lifeless bodies on the courtyard, un-cared for. He hated to leave the dead for the crows and rats but it was their only choice. He looked over his shoulder, thinking about that poor girl they had left behind. Her death had been so totally unnecessary. She had done nothing to deserve that fate. At least it had been quick.

The sun was rising, bathing the world in a hazy light. They had ridden through the night, covering as much ground as possible, and they were getting tired. Qumo could see Vigilante nodding off now and then where she sat, perched on her mare. Fortunately they were getting closer to Wyvern, so soon they might find shelter, however, he didn't know if they were ready to enter. Milo was still unconscious, and it worried him. He hadn't hit him very hard at all, he shouldn't have been down for so long.

He adjusted his hold around the Nyx. Milo's weight was beginning to tire his arms but that was another thing he could not choose. His brows creased in thought. He didn't understand what had happened anymore than Vigilante: who hadn't spoken a word since they had left the courtyard. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on what. Or perhaps it was because nothing was right.

Something might be a bit of an understatement. What Milo had done was something he hadn't seen since the dark centuries. That black mark around the girl's neck had produced a violent physical sensation inside and he had been hard-pressed to keep himself from throwing up. Memories of horrendous nature had overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes, forcing the thought away. He couldn't give in to those memories now. He couldn't think of Milo in that way. If he did, there was nothing to attach that last sliver of hope upon, and he couldn't afford to lose that. He couldn't afford to lose it again. If he did, he didn't think that he would be capable of keeping it together. He had lost too much, seen too much.

He looked over at Vigilante just as her expressionless face met the first beams of sunlight. He wondered what went on in there. He thought that he had pinpointed who she was, but now he didn't know. She had surprised him so many times during these last few days.

He knew that she loved Milo. Yes, Vigilante loved the dark Nyx, but he started to suspect that she was reluctant, and that was one of the things he didn't understand. Why didn't she allow herself to love him?

A groan awoke him from his thoughts. Milo stirred, sending a shiver of fear down his spine. No, he wouldn't be afraid, he wouldn't jump to conclusions. He had to know more before he... He sighed, and shoved the thought away. He didn't want to think it aloud. There was too much at stake.

"Milo?" he asked, hoping that the Nyx was coming back to his senses.

The Nyx stirred some more, then it seemed like he jolted back to life, regaining some of his strength. The Nyx thrashed around, and he was close to losing his grip.

"Calm down Milo, I'm holding you in the saddle."

The movements ceased instantly.

"What happened?" Milo asked, his voice groggy. He wasn't fully back yet.

"You don't remember?"

-----

A pounding headache held his mind hostage. He couldn't think. Why wasn't he on his own horse? And sleeping in Qumo's arms... He who rarely slept.

He cringed again, not comfortable with the feel of a body pressed up against his back. It didn't matter that it was Qumo, it still felt like an invasion.

The world slowly started to come into sharp focus, and vague memories -- almost intangible ones -- came back in faint waves. He couldn't make sense of it. He remembered a feeling, and that feeling was enough to make him realize that he had no wish to remember. He didn't want to know.

"I want to get off," he said, not able to stay in Qumo's embrace. He needed to be in control of himself again, not be trussed up on a horse in the care of another.

He grumbled again as he didn't get any response.

"Are you sure?" Qumo asked, and his determination only grew. Of course he was sure, he could take care of himself. He was getting annoyed, and that seemed to do the trick. He tensed up and jumped off of the horse, tearing himself from Qumo's grasp.

"What's your problem?" Vigilante snapped. "We're trying to help, and this is what we get?"

The anger in her voice was barely contained and it hurt. His heart sank, replacing annoyance with fear of rejection. He didn't understand why she had lashed out. His offence of jumping down from a horse, grumbling a little while doing it, didn't seem to justify her reaction. He looked at her questioningly, but she gave nothing away. Her eyes were hard, her mouth set into a thin line and the coldness she gave off was unbearable. He let go of their stare, snatched the reins to his horse from her hands and mounted.

"Don't bother, we should be stopping anyway," she continued without looking at him. This time there was something else in her voice. A hint of something, or perhaps he was just imagining it. Defeat?

He wanted to ask questions because everything felt surreal. How had they gone from leaving the castle in a reasonably comfortable mood to this? He came to think of Sarah, and turned around to look for her.

"Where's Sarah?"

That earned him a weird reaction from Vigilante. She looked at him, distrusting.

"You really don't remember?" she asked.

Her words triggered the memory. It assaulted him with an array of images, none of them pleasant. He saw Sarah's fear as he held her by her throat. He saw her light whisked away – just like that – gone. What had he done? He looked up again, pleading for the others to answer his unspoken question as anguish threatened to drown him from within.

They were both looking at him, but he could see nothing but distrust, anger, fear, blame. Their stares felt like knives, stabbing him again and again. He longed to let it out, to show how much they affected him, but he refused. Weakness was not a part of him, he would never be weak...

A vicious feeling inside the depth of his being replaced what he felt. He closed his heart, seeing Sarah die before his eyes, die from his touch. What did it matter... so many more would die.

"I remember," he finally answered, and that was it: he wouldn't tell them anymore. He wouldn't let it out, he wouldn't share anything of those repulsive thoughts and feelings that grew within him like a sickness. He would leave his companions untainted. He would stay away from them.

"I remember that I killed her. Keep out of my way, lest I leave that mark on you too."

He looked away, couldn't bear to meet their eyes anymore. He knew it was his bitterness speaking, but also the fear that he might accidentally hurt them. He wasn't in control, he had become a monster... untamed.

-----

Vigilante hitched a breath when he turned away. She didn't know what to answer. Normally she would kick his butt for giving in to this self-destructive behavior, but an unknown feeling held her back. She actually didn't know how to deal with this. She had never been afraid before, but she was now. She was truly afraid for what he might do, what he might do to himself and others. Unpredictable. She didn't like the unpredictable. She shook her head, trying to get rid of it all. She couldn't bear the feeling.

She glanced at Qumo.His stare was full of pity, just as hers must be. After all that had happened she ached for Milo, she truly did. Nothing could take that feeling away. She couldn't help but look at his dark frame again, and sorrow filled the hole in her stomach.

"We can't enter Wyvern if he's like this," she said, mostly to herself, but loud enough for Qumo to catch it.

"You're right. We'll stop in Termen, it's on the way. I think we're close," he answered just as softly.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

"We have to do something."

Qumo didn't answer that, instead Milo turned around and gave them both a nasty glare. He had heard them, of course. When would she learn that his hearing was so much better than hers? She thought she saw something wounded in those beautiful green eyes for a brief second, but it vanished just as soon as it emerged. He had never looked at her like this. That's when she learned what true fear felt like. It scorched her, burning through her like a wildfire; leaving her with an ache of a kind she had never felt. She feared that he would hurt her. He was the one with the ability to hurt her far more than anyone had ever been capable of doing. He was slipping out of her grasp. He was becoming someone she didn't know, so quickly. She briefly wondered if she had known him at all. Perhaps this was a part of himself, a true part. No, he was still Milo, and she had lost that fight long ago: she loved him.

"Let's take one thing at a time, Vigilante," Qumo said gently. She glanced back at him, tears burning behind her eyes.

"Don't worry, we'll see him through this..." he added, trying to reassure her.