South of SomeWhere (-Editing-)

|Fight|

My guidance system is on auto pilot. I know where it is sending me. The only place that I can be alone that John doesn't know about: Keernan's hidout. Maybe there I can wallow in self-pity and absolute mortification for several hours before I go back and face the witch burning mob. My eyes seem to have blinded themselves to my surroundings. Instead of using them, I use my senses as I stumble along. I fall flat on my face, but instead of staying down, I ignore the stinging on my cheek, jump up, and forge on. Everything is a dark haze, and trees loom out of nowhere at a moment's notice only giving me a second to doge them. Suddenly, a large mass of stone appears and instead of swerving to avoid it, I slam straight into it. I hear a sharp crack as my skull bounces off the hard surface, and the darkness blurs even blacker. I stumble clutching my head in both hands. The whispers are back, striving for dominance, each fighting the other for the right to be the loudest and most insistent. Then, one voice speaks clear as a bell.

'Take off the amulet.'

"What?" my feeble brain asks as I trip over an obstruction on the ground and momentarily wind my arms like a child's toy. Pain laces up my arm, and I feel the familiar burn of it on my skin. Shaking from the sickness forming in my stomach, I will it out of skin. I will it somewhere it can't hurt me. Anywhere where this agony will go away. Overwhelmed, I crouch, knees drawn up to my chin. Tears wet my cheeks as I remember the tales of fantasy my mother used to read me as a child. I'd beg her to read me Grimm's stories of guts and glory, and I'd re-watch our copies of Disney princess movies until the DVDs were scratched and worn. I had laughed. I had cried. In my wildest dreams, I'd never believed my life would be that way. I was too realistic a believer for fantasies where Prince Charming rescued his damsel in distress. I never imagined that I would be swept off my feet by a dashing gentleman who maybe cursed and drank a little bit too much for my liking, yet still, he was...impeccable. He was every fangirl's dream come true.

I never thought that this would be my life. Running...running from bizarre creatures of my imaginings that wanted me dead, but this is what it has become. Blurring the lines of reality with the pretend. I stare blankly out into the fading sunset. Even its majesty and beauty gave me no consolation. The tears stung at my eyes like thorns and ran hot trails down my face. To think I almost told him. That I...what if I had? I hear a rustling in the bushes, and instantly, I know who it is. I'm attune to him now. He doesn't need to announce his presence. By a simple sound, a simple smell, I can tell it's him. An eerie calm pervades my body, and I continue staring off into the mad, purple swell in front of me.

"Waverley." His voice holds a raspy edge of worry to it. "I was scared."

I don't speak. At this point it would have been impossible with all the tears making my throat a brick.

He sits down next to me, and his mucky scent saturates my senses. For a brief moment, I've lost why I'm angry at him. He moves to gather me into his arms. Too early I remember and push away, putting a sufficient space between us. I'm far away that he can't reach, but just close enough to let him know what he's missing.

"Please don't ignore me Waverley. I know what you're going through."

I shake my head.

"Yes, love. I understand more than you think. I want to help. I don't judge you for what you did. I probably would have done the same. There is only so much we can take before we just snap."

He's silent for a minute. Then, he reaches for me again, strong arms clinging about my waist as though he's the dying man in the frozen water, and I'm his life raft. Like he's afraid he's losing me. Like he's afraid he will lose me. Tears run rivulets down my cheeks and drip off the end of my nose. His hands brand into my hip bones as he clutches my body, laying his head against my stomach. I'm trying to resist him. I'm mad as hell but at the same time, I want us to be alright. To go back to the carefree way I remember from my dream of us as a child. My hands dive through my hair in agitation.