Taking one step after another, I tentatively walked down the dingy green hallway that looked like it belonged in a horror movie. The threadbare carpets were covered in filth and grime that had been trod in with years of neglect. Wallpaper and paint peeled from walls and door frames as I passed one splintered apartment door after another. There were probably only three types of people that would live in a building like this. Serial killers, prostitutes and drug addicts.

Lights flickered overhead as footsteps sounded beside me.

Looking over to my left, Damian walked beside me, matching my stride. The sound of his footsteps echoing within my own sounded tinny in the narrow hallway. He nodded his head at me and then at the door on the left at the end of the long corridor. His golden eyes showcasing nothing but worry and concern.

We headed toward it in silence. The corridor was familiar and my gut churned as Deja vu gripped me. I knew I'd been here before and I knew that something bad had happened here but for the life of me, I couldn't recall what. I growled in frustration at the holes in my memory.

A few short steps later, we stood in front of a dilapidated purple door. A tarnished bronze number twelve swung from a single nail, pinning it in place. An old damp and mould covered Pokémon sticker patched up a hole in the wood, it looked to be the sturdiest thing on the door and I wouldn't be surprised if that was the only thing keeping it together. Damian motioned for me to go inside but I hesitated. My subconscious holding me back. Warning me that I didn't want to see what was inside.

"What's inside?" I asked tentatively.

"You already know." He replied cryptically motioning once again, towards the door.

Lifting my hand I wiggled the handle, hoping that it would be locked and I could get the hell out of there. But to my dismay, the handle gave way and the door opened with a creak.

The smell was the first thing that assaulted me when the door cracked open. The overwhelming stench of rot and decay made me wretch and gag. I pulled the sleeve of my shirt over my hand and held it to my nose and mouth in an attempt to filter out the stench and hopefully keep in the vomit that was threatening to fill my mouth.

My feet dug into the rotted door mat stopping me from moving any further. Hair rising on the back of my neck in warning.

"I can't" My voice came out almost childlike.

"You have to." Damian pushed.

"What's in there?" I asked again.

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"It's something you need to see for yourself."

"But I'm scared-"

"You've already seen what's in there with your eyes, you just need to see it with your mind."

"But why?"

"Just go inside and you will understand."

Steeling my spine, I lifted my booted foot from the mat and placed it inside the apartment. A sense of foreboding washed over me as I tried to prepare myself the best I could for what was ahead of me.

As I made my way into the apartment, the sound of a crying child catching my attention. I turned to Damian to gauge his reaction but he just closed his eyes and nodded his head. Gesturing for me to carry on. I followed the sounds of sobbing to the kitchen at the back end of the apartment. The door was open a crack causing harsh halogen lighting to beam through the small gap. I braced myself and pushed open the door, gasping as the world spun at what I saw before me.

A small boy with matted black hair and tatted rags for clothes that hung from his tiny malnourished body was knelt on the grimy cold tiles of the kitchen floor. His shaking frame, hunkered over the bloated rotting corpse of a woman. It didn't take a forensic scientist to figure out how she had died. The dirty needle hanging out of her arm and the torn pantyhose used as a tourniquet was a huge giveaway. I tried to ignore the fact that her badly stained panties were hanging loosely around her bruised and swollen ankles, leaving her with very little dignity.

"Are you OK?" I asked the little guy. I knew it was a stupid question, he obviously wasn't OK but shock had my mouth and brain working on auto pilot.

"Momma fell asleep and now she won't wake up!" The little boy sobbed. My knees buckled as two golden hazel eyes swung round and up to meet mine. Gobsmacked, I turned my head back and forth between Damian and the boy until the uncanny resemblances final pieced together and settled in my addled brain.

The boy was Damian, which meant- The boy was me!

My throat closed as I fell to my knees, cracking the cheap kitchen tile under my weight. I couldn't breath as the boy leaned back showing me the woman's face for the first time. That boy was me and that woman was-

I couldn't bring myself to think of the mother that I barely remembered. The room spun as breathing became more difficult. Damian placed a strong hand of comfort on my shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly.

"I'm so sorry, Blake." His voice was soft and cajoling

"Why did you show me this?! Why did you bring me her?!" I sobbed and wheezed trying to catch my breath and failing as the panic attack took over. My hands turned into claws, freezing in place as I hyperventilated. My lips tingling as blackness encroached on my vision. The panic attack was going pull me under and there wasn't a thing I could do to stop it.

"I didn't want to do this but you had to see. You had to understand!"

"Under...stand...what?" I panted harshly. My chest rattling with the effort.

"Why you hate her-"

I looked up at his sympathetic face in confusion. Now unable to ask him what he means.

"You don't hate her for what she is. You hate what she reminds you of."

And with that, the world upended and the darkness swallowed me whole. It didn't need to chew me first as Damian had done a stellar job before hand.

Bolting upright, I greedily gulped in sweet precious oxygen. Crying with relief as my lungs filled to capacity. My body trembled as the remnants of the panic attack still clung to my body and psyche.

"Blake?"

I startled at the soft worried voice coming from beside me but I didn't turn to look at the source. My eyes stared blankly at the wall opposite the bed as I panted and struggled to regain my breathing as silent tears coursed down my cheeks. My jumbled thoughts, refusing to process the memory I had just recovered.

Soft hands rested on my cheeks as the bed shifted and something nestled between my thighs.

Slowly focusing my vision, bright blue eyes and wild red hair appeared before me. Recognition filtered in as I took in the familiar features of Agnes. Damian's words echoing around my mind as I studied the planes of her face.

You don't hate her for what she is. You hate what she reminds you of.

Clarity hit me like a speeding train. That burning feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I was near this girl wasn't hate like I had thought it was. It was un-spilled grief of the death of my mother that I had refused to face. For all these years, I had taken the cowards way out and let Damian take the emotional pounding as I ignored the pain and buried it deep deep down until it was near to overflowing. Which meant every time I was near this girl. a flood of grief would drown me in acid. Burning me from the inside out.

I didn't hate Agnes. She wasn't destroying my sanity. I was! By refusing to acknowledge the events of my past and dealing with them.

My attraction to her wasn't just my sick and twisted head trying to fuck with me.

"Blake, talk to me. What is it?" Her melodic voice spoke quietly.

My focus intensified as I truly took in the girl in front of me for the first time. She wasn't a danger to my brothers and I. She wasn't trying to destroy or manipulate us. She was just a young girl- no, not girl- woman. Who had been dealt one shit blow after another all her life. She just tried to make the best of a life that she didn't ask for. For a life that had been thrust upon her. And she still did it with kindness and grace.

I had done nothing but treat her like dirt, but she hadn't even blinked in hesitation over helping me when most people would have left me to die.

My heart snapped in two at the thoughts of how I had treated her reverberated though my head. But yet, she is here, in front of me with worry etched into her beautiful face, still caring for me. I wasn't worthy to be in her presence. I wasn't worthy to breath the same air as her. She was truly an angel resurrected from the dead. A beautiful red rose, thriving in the dirt she was buried in.

"I'm s-sorry-" I stuttered. Her head tipping to the side in confusion.

"I'm so sorry, Agnes! I'm so, so, sorry!" I wailed, pulling her tiny body into my chest and wrapping my arms around her. Sobbing into her fiery hair.

"Forgive me." I repeated over and over as I rocked her in my arms.

Her body was rigid against me and I knew it was because she didn't trust me. I had hurt her too many times with my words and actions. I just wish I had the time to make it up to her. To repent all the ways I had mistreated her since she had shown up in our lives.

Surprise filled me when after a few moments, her body relaxed and her arms wrapped themselves around my waist. She was hugging me back. After all I had put her through, she was still trying to comfort me! I did not deserve her easy forgiveness.

Her hug was like a balm to my fraying nerves. My breathing evened out and my heart rate calmed as I focused solely on the red haired angel in my arms. She moulded perfectly against my body like a missing puzzle piece to my shattered soul.

"I thought you were changing." She sniffled. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Another thing to add to my list of the shit that I had put her through.

She slowly leaned her head back to look me in the face. Her arm lifted free from my waist and gentle hands wiped away the free flowing tears from my cheeks.

"What happened?" She questioned

"I-I remembered-"

"What did you remember?" Her hand cupped my face, urging me to continue.

"My mom- She was- dead- they didn't find us for days"

"I don't hate you, Agnes. I don't hate you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

She just held me silently as I apologised over and over. It would never be enough.

Blake trembled in my arms as he kept telling me how sorry he was. I had pieced together from his broken ramblings that he had remembered the death of his mother. I know that he didn't just forget this fact so I assumed it was one of the traumatic periods in his life that Damian had protected him from. I felt sick for the little boy that had been left with his decaying mother for God knows how long, but also for the broken man that that moment had shaped, before me.

I couldn't imagine the turmoil that he was going through. My parents had abandoned me, but they had cared enough to ensure that I was somewhere safe and the knowledge that they are out there somewhere living their life hurt like a son of a bitch, but not as much as it made me angry. But Blake and Damian had the devastating memory of their mothers death repeated day after day until they were eventually discovered. Like some kind of masochistic ground hog day.

What had taken me aback was the fact that he had opened up about this me. He was letting me comfort him, to soothe him. There were no nasty barbs just apologies. In his head, there must be some correlation between the remembered death of his mother and the way he's been treating me. I had no idea what it was and to be honest I didn't care.

I just knew in my bones from the second I met him that the angry broken man in my arms, didn't really mean any of it. If I thought for one second that he did, I wouldn't have helped him or been there for him. Due to my upbringing, I take care of me and mine only. And I guess I kind of knew that on some subconscious level that I knew Blake and Damian belonged in my life, as did Jay, Connor and Val.

So it was nice that he seemed to finally stop fighting this fact and I, wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. After-all, I wasn't sure how much longer we would have left with him so I was glad that whatever time we had left together, wasn't going to be spent with animosity between us.

His guilt was welcome but unnecessary. I had already forgiven him and with three little words I hoped to absolve of his burden. He had suffered enough in his life.

"I forgive you" I whispered staring into the deep dark depths of his onyx eyes. A golden ring flashed around the pupil at my words. And strong lips came crashing down on mine.