"Get out of my room," Damien grumbled, still half asleep. He turned onto his side so he was no longer facing the woman who sat on his bed. "Whatever you want to talk about, it can wait until the morning."
"This can't," Mari insisted, latching her fingers onto Damien's arm.
"Fine." He groaned, and rolled back over to face her, before sitting up, lazily using his sheet to cover his bare chest. "What do you want?"
"Why do I know you?" Damien rolled his eyes at her question.
"That's the question you had to wake me up for?" He chuckled, and shook his head. "God, Mari. When you were running around with the prince, you came into my office nearly everyday, always trying to steal something to get high with or whatever you guys did. I never stopped you, I hated the king as much as the next person, but being the palace doctor gave me a good salary and I wasn't about to mess that up."
"Then why are you here? Last time I checked palace staff wasn't allowed to leave the palace."
"I got fired," He said simply, with a half hearted shrug of his shoulders. "When the prince kills himself, everything suddenly becomes your fault. I'm lucky that I didn't get thrown in the Dead Zone with you. Matt and you may have survived there, but me? I surely would have died. Now get the fuck out of my room."
~*~
Mari walked slowly back to her designated room, slipping silently under the covers. She had more thinking to do than before, and she prepared herself to stay awake for the rest of the night. Everything just got more and more complicated than before. And now? Now she had to figure out how to get revenge for the prince's death, when the murderer is the one she wants to avenge. Everything got much more complicated, and Mari wasn't sure what she was going to do about it.
Soon she found herself, placing her bare feet back onto the cool floor, and pulling her door open. She walked back into the empty hallway, the sun still barely peaking into the seemingly empty house. The light barely graced Mari's features as she walked through the hallway of the quiet house. She pulled open one of the doors whose occupants she was unsure of. And somehow she got lucky.
She slipped into the quiet room, placing herself as quietly as possible on the edge of the bed. She just had to smile when her eyes landed on the sleeping man. He was laid across the entire bed, the blankets that were supposed to cover him were laid on the floor. Even as she stood there watching she could see that he was tossing and turning. So, doing her best not to wake him up, she pushed herself into his chest, and pulled the blankets back over both of them. He stilled almost instantly, draping an arm over her waist, and tugging her a little closer.
"Mari?" He asked. His voice was heavy with sleep, and Mari could tell that he was barely conscious. She couldn't help but smile.
"It's me," She answered softly. "Go back to sleep."
He seemed to obey almost instantly, as his breathing evened out. Mari snuggled a little closer and rested her head on his chest, and soon enough she joined him in the world of dreams.
~*~
She woke up screaming and alone. Scratches marred the skin on her arms, legs, and face. Anywhere her fingernails could reach was torn apart, bleeding.
"Mari!" The door was pulled open, light pouring onto the woman. She screamed louder, scrambling away from the man who entered the room.
"Mari!" The second man was more concerned, he approached her more slowly.
"Mari..." The third man approached her quickly, reaching out a hand to place it upon her. She shrieked and scrambled away, unable to believe her eyes at the man standing in front of her.
"You..." She watched him with wide eyes. "They, they told me... they told me you were... that you were dead!"
"Dead?" The man questioned. "Mari, I'm not dead. I promise. Who told you?"
But the woman did not answer, only regarded him with wide eyes. She reached out hesitantly, pulling her hand back quickly when her hand brushed flesh.
"Peter?" She asked, staring at him with tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Mari! Wake up!" Rough hands clasped around her shoulders, shaking her roughly. "It's just a nightmare for the King's sake! Wake up!"
She opened her eyes to find Damien staring down at her, a harsh look in his eyes. She shrunk away from him, looking at the other men that stood in the room. She found her eyes glanced only upon Sohinki, before settling on Lasercorn who was looking at her... not with pity... but with understanding. He pushed past Sohinki and Damien, kneeling down next to her and clasping her hand in his own. Lasercorn turned towards Damien, pure hatred in his eyes.
"What did you do to make them come back?"
"Come back?" Damien stumbled backwards, away from the man who regarded him with murder in his eyes. "What came back? What are you talking about?"
"The visions, the nightmares! What did you do?" Lasercorn was yelling, but to Mari he was nothing but soothing. He was rubbing her back slowly, helping her through this episode like she had helped him through all of his.
Damien couldn't respond, fear was the only thing in his eyes. Lasercorn had been quiet ever since they had entered Damien's home. This was the first time Lasercorn had practically said everything, and it was the first time he showed Damien the anger he was capable of.
"Just get out!" Lasercorn growled, clutching Mari a little closer to his chest, in an act of protection. "Both of you, just get out!"
Slowly, very slowly, the two men left, closing the door behind them, trying to make as little noise as possible as they tried to avoid Lasercorn's anger. Lasercorn just watched them leave. Mari was still pressed to his chest, his thumb making slow circles in attempts to calm her down.
"You haven't dreamed about..." Lasercorn paused, remembering that time when she had woken up screaming that name. He remembered that when he had asked about it, she had nearly killed him, shouting at him and threatening him, warning him what would happen if he ever mentioned that name again. "Him, for a long time." He finished.
He hadn't heard the name in so long. He had thought that she had forgotten, or at least that it no longer affected her. But something, someone, changed that, and he couldn't help but worry for the younger woman. He couldn't help but worry for the woman who had pretended to be strong for so long. He couldn't help but worry for the woman who stayed awake with him for days, helping him through the nightmares that plagued him constantly. Yes, he worried for her. They all did, because believe it or not, she wasn't as cold hearted as she pretended to be.
