by TW Knight
"You should have said something. I would have understood." Bree choked on the words. "You talked to Hogart, you weren't afraid of attacking him."
"Yeah, I was." Guilt raked him. "But I have less chance of killing him than you. He understands what's going on in my head. We played video games and beat things up virtually. It made the things in my head quieter." He looked away, embarrassed. "It's part of my anger management therapy."
"Therapy?"
"I told Hogart what I was feeling, what I wanted to do, and he told Zach. Now we're both holding hands and singing Kumbaya."
"Sam, why didn't you just tell me? We went through counseling before. We could have— Wait, Zach's a therapist?"
"No. Neither is anyone else on this island. But they seem to understand the anger inside me. Zach diagnosed me as having PTSD. I've spent most of the last two days just talking to them."
"But you couldn't talk to me?"
Sam recoiled from the pain in her voice. "I fucked up, okay? What did you think I was going to say, huh? I'm sorry for trying to kill you and, oh, by the way, can I bitch at you for a couple of hours about how all I want to do now is hurt someone?"
"It would have been a start." Bree took a tentative step forward and rested her hand on his arm. "I didn't like not knowing what was going on with you. You've always been able to talk to me. Besides, you've always been angry since Mom and Dad—"
"Don't."
"Don't what? Care that you've locked me out of your life? Try to comfort you, to understand you?"
"Don't try and understand what it's like in here." He tapped his temple. "I'm not sure what's going on. These rages come on so fast, I have no clue what sets them off."
"I'm your sister. Your twin, damn it. You're stuck with me, so just get over it. I'm going to be here to help you through this, no matter what." She punched him again.
"Obviously I'm not the only one with anger issues." Sam chuckled. "Hogart said I was being an ass and not giving you enough credit."
"If you heard me that day, then you knew I'd already forgiven you. You knew I didn't blame you or hate you for what happened." Bree punched him one more time.
Suppressing the urge to rub the growing bruise on his arm, Sam mussed his sister's hair. "I know."
"Why are we talking now?"
"I heard what happened with you and Bass." Sam grinned, watching his sister turn bright red.
"God." Finding a downed tree along the path, Bree sat and put her head in her hands. "Please tell me all you heard was that I think I saw an angel?"
"Yep, that's what I heard—"
"Oh, well—"
"—while you two were doing the nasty."
All over the island, birds launched into the air when Bree screamed. Sam ran for his life.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hogart stood in the courtyard agonizing over the discussion with his fellow warriors. They were neither angry nor surprised. They'd waited for him to come clean.
A rustle in the ferns and hushed voices announced the twins' return. Hogart's stomach tightened.
Spotting the warrior, Bree flashed him a smile and waved.
His hand lifted and waved as if controlled by another. To cover the action, he rubbed his goatee and cleared his throat. "Good. You made up. I guess I will not be tossing him from the cliffs, then," he asked Bree with a nod toward Sam.
"No," Bree responded, playfully disappointed. "He got his head out of his ass all on his own."
"What?" Sam looked from one to the other. "I have issues."
The warrior nodded with understanding. Guilt made his heart skip. He was about to add one more stone to the boy's already heavy soul. "Come. I was sent to find you. We have much to discuss."
When they entered the meeting room, Hogart gauged Sam's reaction to being in such close quarters to the others. The boy was itchier than a tiger with fleas.
Bree, on the other hand, ran straight to Bass' arms, melding to his side. "What's on the agenda," she asked.
Sam tensed, watching his sister engage the big warrior.
"The guys and I had a long discussion and we think we've figured out the reason for latest intrusion, even if we don't know how it happened." Kaz sat, his gaze roaming over the others. "I think it would be best if Hogart explains."
Hogart studied the table's fine wood grain. The tightness in his stomach rose to his chest.
Sam took a seat next his sister, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Is it because of what happened in the courtyard?"
"Partly. Understand, we are not blaming anyone but ourselves for not anticipating the possibility such an attack could happen. We will continue to research stronger protection spells to prevent future incidents." Kaz let out a long breath and placed his hands flat on the table.
The tightness in his chest worked its way up Hogart's throat, threatening to choke him. "I think the angel came to find me."
Sam pushed his chair back and stared at his hands resting on his knees, not letting his sister touch him. "Don't lie. You think it's because of me. Because I tried to kill Bree."
"No." Hogart's voice rang with a certainty he did not feel. "The Higher-Ones stopped intervening in the possession of humans long ago. This is because of what I was before I was exiled from Heaven. I should not be here. What happened in the courtyard brought me to their attention once again."
"Does this have to do with what you told me about him being an Elite-Justice-something-or-other," Bree asked Bass cautiously.
"You told her?" Hogart's voice turned to a low growl.
Heat rippled off Bass, filling the room and slamming into Hogart.
Bree stood her ground under the weight of the warrior's glare. "Yes he did."
Bass leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Answer her question."
Hogart pushed away from the table and roamed about the room. "Yes I was once a member of the Elite. However, I was not expelled from Heaven, Heaven refused my reentry after I disobeyed orders." He waved off questions.
"You're one of the Hierarchy?" Cassidy gasped. "Rail, why did you bring him here?"
"It is in the nature of the Watchers to help." Hogart took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "To answer your question, I am third generation of the High Ones, not a member of Hierarchy. My siblings and I were created as warriors, soldiers, enforcers. Justice Bringers. My master was Michael."
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.
No one breathed. The birds outside stopped singing. The air stilled, as if saying the name aloud would bring the Arch Angel to their doorstep.
***
Sam dragged his fingernails over the polished wood table top, his hands gradually turning into tight fists. "What does this have to do with us?" Each word left his mouth like a razor blade. The anger, the rage, everything he'd held down for the past two days boiled in his gut.
"Nothing."
"Bullshit!"
"Sam, calm down."
Hearing the roughness in Rail's voice, Sam turned to counter the order. The warrior was in mid-transformation to his demon form— skin darkening, eyes burning, claws extending. A glance around the table proved the others were also changing. More importantly, each Knight positioned themselves between him and the other humans.
They were afraid of him.
They were afraid of him.
The walls closed in around Sam.
These immortal warriors were afraid of him, his anger. Anger which lead him to strangle his sister. An anger so profound, it let Lucifer get behind their shields. Into his soul.
Was he that out of control?
What was happening to him?
Sam collapsed to his knees with this head in his hands. The heat from his growing rage exploded into an icy ball around his soul and pierced his heart. An anguished cry tore from his throat.
Voices picked their way through the fog wrapped around him like cotton batting, soft and smothering. Bree's screams were the loudest, but it was Hogart's calm tone which pulle
d him back.
"Samuel. Focus on my voice. Your sister needs you."
"Bree? I hurt her. Bree. I hurt Bree. I hurt Bree." Sam rocked, wanting to crawl back into the quiet darkness.
He needed to protect Bree. She was all he had left and he'd hurt her.
"No. You're just scaring her."
"Sammy?" Bree knelt next to her brother and cautiously placed her hands on his face, forcing him to look up at her. "Look at me. I'm okay."
Sam focused on his sister. Her cheeks were damp from fresh tears and she shook. He couldn't bring himself to touch her. "Something's wrong with me," he gasped. "What's wrong with me?"
"It's the PTSD coming to a head. All of this change has been too much for him," Kaz answered calmly.
Bree sobbed. "He broke down like this just after we got here. He wouldn't tell me what set him off, but... it's this place. You people. You did this to him."
"I think I scared him," Tam said. "We had a disagreement in the kitchen your first day here."
"I think it's more than that. More than Lucifer's attempted possession. His fear of losing Bree, his lack of control, that's what's triggering these outbursts," Bass offered. "The more he holds back, the worse he gets."
"It's the rage inside him." Hogart placed his hands on Sam's back. "It burns white hot, slowly turning his soul to ashes. This is what he took away from the attack on your parents. From their deaths. It tainted him. Opened the door to the Darkness."
"Bullshit. He is not a conduit for evil," Zach snapped. "He has a severe case of PTSD. He needs professional help. More than I can offer."
The silence was louder than anything he'd experienced. In the quiet, Sam heard his heart beat, his blood rushing through his veins, and the air sawing from his lungs. A stillness settled about him; the world stopped spinning and everything around him vanished.
The moment shattered and a tsunami of realty rushed back in and carried him away with it.
The world turned black.
Bree's screams grew louder.
There were hands, claws, grabbing him.
Everything tilted, fell away.
A shrieking filling his head, shredding his brain.
He couldn't breathe.
Too many people. Monsters crushing him. He had to get away.
Fading into the darkness, a familiar whisper teased him. Give in to me.
"No," he gasped, scrambling for the pinprick of light hanging at the edge of the darkness. "No. Stop. Let me go."
The pressure on his chest eased and he gulped like a fish.
"Sam? Are you back with us?"
Slowly two faces came into view, Kaz and Hogart. The men sat on him, holding him down. When he moved his arms, Sam discovered Bass and Rail holding him to the floor. Off to the side, Cassidy consoled Bree. The women stood behind a wall of partially transformed warriors.
Near the door, Zach spoke to Tucker before the young man ran from the room.
"What happened?" Sam heard the words leave his mouth, but they didn't sound like they belonged to his voice.
"You had another episode," Zach offered politely.
"What?"
"You totally freaked out," Boomer elaborated, stepping out of the way when Tucker pushed passed him.
"Bree? Did I hurt Bree?" Sam struggled to get a better look at his sister and found Hogart sitting on his chest again. "Did I hurt anyone?"
The warrior brushed his hand over Sam's face. "Be calm. Your sister is fine. We are all fine. Furniture can be replaced."
Sam swallowed, his throat working, but his mouth was dry. He choked and coughed. What happened? Everything went dark. Boomer said he'd freaked out. Hogart said he'd smashed the furniture. He could have killed someone. Eventually he would kill someone.
Everything spun out of control. Everything crushed him.
Too much. Too much. Too much.
"Here. This will help."
Sam caught a flash of something in Zach's hand a moment before he felt the prick in his bicep. A slight burn rushed under the skin, and changed into cool water washing away the fire in his veins.
He only saw one way out.
"Hogart?" Sam gave in as a comforting buzz filled his head and his eyes drifted shut.
"I'm here."
"End this. Kill me."
Chapter Thirty-Five
"He doesn't know what he's saying." Bree pushed free from Cassidy's hold and punched Hogart on the back.
Hogart turned and glared. "He knows exactly what he's saying. He's lost hope. He's afraid and wants all this madness to stop. Afraid the Darkness he felt earlier will take over. I understand. I've been there. I'm still there, standing on the edge."
Bree willed back the tears threatening to explode from her again. "How are you going to keep him from going evil, or whatever, if you can't help yourself?"
"I swear to you, little sister, that I will do all in my power to help him. But it's up to him which path he'll take." The warrior snorted. "He strong and hard-headed, he'll not take the easy path."
"Which is the easy path?" Bree melted into Bass' embrace as he moved behind her.
"Lucifer chose the easy path. Gave in to the anger. It takes a much stronger person to stay in the Light. To fight temptation." Bass kissed the top of her head. "Sam fought his way back just now, and if Hogart is right, he'll continue to fight."
Bree let her tears fall freely. "He just asked to be killed. Does that sound like he's fighting this?"
"He's afraid," Hogart repeated like it was the answer to everything.
Zach knelt next to Sam's unconscious form and checked his vitals. "The sedative's working. Let's get him to the infirmary. His heart rate is still a bit high."
"I'll take him." Hogart scooped him up and turned to Bree. "I will take responsibility for him."
Bree grabbed his arm when he turned to leave. "I won't let you kill him."
"You may not have a choice."
***
Bass took up a position against the wall watching Bree use his sword to take her frustration, pain, and anger out on one of the practice dummies. When the head flew off and skidded across the floor, he figured she was done.
He figured wrong.
Bree kept slashing and hacking, and generally making a mess of what was left of poor old Henry the Eighth.
Time to get number nine out of storage, he mused.
Just as he walked away, the sword clattered to the floor. The sound a mournful cry in the empty training room.
"Babe?" Bass approached Bree, sure she would collapse into his arms from exhaustion.
The right cross to his jaw set him back a step in utter shock.
Bree's eyes were harder than a steel-toed boot kick to the ‘nads, and twice as painful.
"What the fuck?" He rubbed his jaw.
"You'd let them kill Sam, wouldn't you?" Bree snatched the sword from the floor and took a wide swing at him. "You would let them kill my brother?"
"To protect you," Bass ground out. "Yes." He didn't move a step. If it made her feel better to take her pain out on him, he would take it all. The blade slashed close enough to his midsection to make his shirt shift in its wake.
"I won't give up on him." With a frustrated scream, Bree threw the sword across the room watching it skitter across the floor.
"No one is asking you to." Bass still didn't move. Better to let her come to him. "Your brother is so much like us, it's scary."
Bree pivoted toward him and crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you mean?"
"The anger. The need to fight. The confusion." He let out a long breath. "It's not much different than what we go through every day fighting against what we've become. A fight some of us are losing."
"But..." She swallowed her words and turned away from him. "I never asked before, did you start changing into demons or whatever right after you were kicked out of Heaven?"
"No. I never thought about it until Rail brought it up. We didn't change until we started the dying and resurrection thing." Bass t
ook a step forward when Bree's posture relaxed a fraction. "It was harder to control in the beginning. The change, that is."
"But you can control it now." Bree glanced over her shoulder, hope in her eyes.
"Some of us are better at control than others. For the most part." He shrugged, the slightest lift of a shoulder. "Rail's been sliding into Darkness for the last decade or so, but after he met Cassidy... Well, you've seen how they are. Kaz is the one I worry about now. He's closer to the edge now than I've ever seen him. Or anyone else."
Except myself. Bass could hide the darkness from everyone but himself. Every time he looked in the mirror, he saw the monster he was destined to become. The dragon tattooed on his back stared at him through his own eyes. The fire simmered below his skin waiting to be freed on the world.
Projecting a confidence he didn't feel, he added, "Sam only asked to be killed because he knows how hard the fight is going to be and it scares him. He will get through this."
"How do you know that? How can you be sure?"
He shifted, his body tensing again. "Because he has you. He's spent his life trying to protect you. Deep down he knows you won't abandon him."
"Just a few days ago, he tried to kill me."
"That wasn't him."
"Yes it was. He told me so."
Bass opened his mouth, then shut it with a snap. He had no words. The urge to grant her brother’s death wish surged below the surface of his will power. "He told you he wanted to kill you," he finally gritted out.
Bree gasped. "No. No. No. I mean. God, this is so fucked up." She slid to the floor right where she stood. "He said he liked being out of control. Feeling that powerful. He didn't want to kill me, he just wanted to kill. To let go of everything. I know he was pushed into that wanting, but he gave in to that desire." She looked up when Bass moved to stand over her. "What if all of this really is more than PTSD? What if that just gave Lucifer an opening?"
Bass wanted to lie with every cell in his body. Tell her everything would be fine. Instead, he sat next Bree and took her hand in his. In the distance, water dripped from the troublesome sink in the locker room. He needed to get it fixed.
