A/N: I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to frame this piece. I have used this song as Cal's theme in this twisted universe. It's worth a listen!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her uber-prompt review! Thanks also to halesgirl101 and Comuterale for reviewing!

Story stats: Yesterday's chapter was viewed 31 times by 15 visitors; some of you came back twice and three times or more to read and re-read it. While apparently most of you are American, I also have two readers in Canada, one in England, one in Germany, and one in Sweden. (However, the overall story stats say I've got at least one reader in France as well.) Roughly the current review-per-reader ratio for this story is one review per five readers. Not too shabby - other fandoms are worse skewed.

So: Thank you to all ya'll for coming along for the ride! I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope ya'll will come take a look at the sequel! I'll post the first chapter on Monday!

Chapter Fifteen: Burn

I told you I was hurt, bleeding on the inside
I told I was lost in the middle of my life
There's times I stayed alive for you
There's times I would have died for you
There's times it didn't matter at all

Will you help me find the right way out?
Or let me take the wrong way down?
Will you straighten me out?
Or make me take the long way around?
I took the low road in
I'll take the high road out
I'll do whatever it takes to be the mistake you can't live without
-"The High Road," Three Day's Grace
(Malum in Se Cal's theme)

We actually didn't stay long. It was close to sunset when Robin and I were outside, walking in the backyard with Catcher. Niko had brought me coat and scarf and hat, but Robin was shivering in a borrowed jean coat. We were throwing a Frisbee for Catcher, and Robin could throw it higher and farther. I watched Catcher go racing off, furry legs churning through the light drifts of snow, and shook my head. "Give me a baseball and I'll give you a run for your money," I challenged Robin, tugging my scarf up over my nose.

"Really? Too bad there isn't one," he teased back, lightly. There was still something watchful in his green eyes when he looked at me, but he seemed to be accepting that I was alright. Well, physically alright. Mentally, not even I knew what the hell I was.

I took the Frisbee from Catcher when he brought it back. "Hey man, got a baseball anywhere? Robin thinks I can't do shit with it."

Catcher tipped his head, panting white clouds in the air. A huge shaggy red wolf, he looked more like an oversized Irish Setter. Yellow eyes glittered with intelligence and good humor, and after a moment he raced off and dug through the snow. I grinned when he brought me back an ice-crusted, stained, well-worn baseball.

"Hey, now we're talking." I took the ball in my hand and hefted it. Regulation weight, excellent. Then I turned and jogged back towards the house. I could probably make it to the fence at the back of the yard, or pretty damn close. That was almost an outfield. Catcher ran alongside, and after a moment Robin followed. He watched me with interest as I stripped off my knitted glove and started stretching out my arms, my legs.

"I wasn't aware you liked baseball."

I glanced at Robin. "Eh, I played it for a little while. Niko did too. He bats." I stretched out my arm one last time, shoved my glove in my coat pocket, and set my feet, snow crunching under my boots. I looked at Catcher. "Better run fast, man." I grinned at him. Catcher barked. I set my fingers on the worn seams of the ball, wound up good and slow, and threw him a fastball. God I'd missed that, the sudden violent motion, every muscle working hard, and the feel of the ball leaving my hand so fast it damn near sizzled. On a good day I could get it past ninety but today was not that day.

Catcher had to run all the way to the fence to get it. I turned and grinned widely at Robin. He took a step back, but he was smiling too. "I'm impressed. Do it again and I'll believe it wasn't a fluke."

I snorted. "What, like that set-up didn't tell you? I could've gone pro."

Catcher brought the ball back.

It felt good to show off at something non-deadly, for once. Good to play, psych Catcher out with different pitches, and impress Robin with what I could do. It felt a little fake, after all that had happened - surreal, somehow. Robin was at least an appreciative audience, and didn't try to show me up. I'm pretty sure he could've, but he was being nice and while I wasn't used to that it felt kinda good. Not like he was being condescending or anything.

I was resting my shoulder, which was starting to feel achy, and Robin was throwing the Frisbee when the door to the house slammed open and Niko came springing down the steps in a way that suggested he was only just keeping his balance, like he'd been pushed or had come at the stairs backing up.

Rafferty came flying into view, stopped in the doorway; his teeth were bared in a violent snarl. "Get out! Get out! And don't come back you psychotic bastard! Don't you dare show your face here again!" he shouted, voice thick with a wolf's growl and bark.

Catcher barked, too, on alert. I realized I'd crouched and put a hand under my coat, fingers curled around the grip of my gun. Robin looked puzzled. Niko, on the other hand, shot Rafferty an ugly look, less angry and more disgusted and annoyed. I'd seen him give that look right before he started a barfight - 'you aren't really worth my time but if you keep pushing I'll take you down.' He looked at me, jerked his head towards Robin's very nice red Mustang, and turned his back on Rafferty.

I started to jog after him, but Rafferty turned to me. "Cal. You're welcome here if you need it. And you." He nodded to Robin, and there was still anger in him, but he turned and went inside. Catcher raced up the steps after him, and the door slammed so hard I was surprised it hadn't broken.

I jogged after Nik, caught up. "What was that about?" I asked, bewildered.

Niko glanced at Robin, who had come trotting up as well. "Rafferty didn't agree with my methods of...dealing with Darkling." He set a hand on the back of my neck, and his bare cold fingers pinched like fire on the unmarked skin.

He was lying. I knew exactly what the fight had been about - me, and the bruise burning fresh on my nape, a promise of more to come.

"I can see how a healer would have difficulties with that," Robin remarked, as he went around to unlock the doors Niko pointed me into the back seat, of course, and took the front for himself. Dammit. I crawled in and shivered on the expensive leather seat while Robin started the car. Oh hell yes listen to that baby purr. Damn, I wanted a Mustang. The car Robin had found for us was nothing so nice - it was an old El Camino, definitely not a luxury sports car. Man, we never got the good stuff.

I had a question, though, and one that I had to ask. Now was good a time as any. "Nik...how...how did you know? That it would...work, with Darkling?

"I didn't." Niko glanced back at me as Robin pulled out of the driveway. "Not for certain. Robin guessed Darkling would leave himself an out. It was a hell of a gamble to take, but in the end I couldn't not take it. Not after I saw you were still in there."

Of course not. I'd known that, but hearing him say it, that he just couldn't give up on me... I reached around the seat and grabbed a handful of braid, tugging on it. Niko let his head tip to the pull, and leaned back against the seat, relaxing minutely. I could still smell that he was irritated and grumpy, but that was okay. I looked at Robin. "I hope you didn't let Niko drive this thing. If you did, your plate numbers are probably taped to every cop's dashboard citywide."

"He made the store run this morning...why?" Robin asked.

I laughed. "Niko never drives the speed limit. Ever."

"They're recommendations," Niko grumbled. "You can take this curve at sixty-five and not a wobble in this car."

"S-sixty-five!" Robin spluttered, looking guiltily at the sign, which posted the speed-limit at a suggested twenty-five. Robin had been doing a good thirty-five.

Niko laughed, and after a minute I did too. Niko had made it something of an art-form, evading the cops... And when we got pulled over not a mile later, Niko and I were almost in tears from laughing so hard. Robin just looked pissed at being given a six-hundred-dollar ticket for reckless endangerment and driving a good thirty miles over the limit and evading a cop...Niko's usual list, if they ever caught him. And they'd caught the right car this time, but the wrong driver. I'd bailed Niko out of jail before for speeding and high-speed chases, but he'd gotten better about it over the years...and then, well, our life had gone to hell and things like car chases had just stopped being an option.

Though if Robin ever let Niko touch his car keys again...

It turned out Niko and I did not still have an apartment. Niko had flipped his shit over me and the Auphe and Darkling and had totally trashed the place. He'd packed everything and headed off with Robin to search the city. Robin helpfully dropped us off at a nice cheap motel and assured Niko the El Camino we'd bought from him could stay in his car-lot. It was pretty damn generous of him, especially considering Niko had just gotten him a speeding ticket and probably a court-date. Niko checked us in and I poked at the top layers in my dufflebags. I was going to have to dump all my shit out as soon as we got into the room and repack - when Niko packed my stuff, I could never find anything. Sure it was neat as hell, but I liked finding what I wanted!

Niko locked the door and I stripped the cheap counterpane off the queen-sized bed. The sheets had what I hoped were coffee-stains on them, but they were clean. It wasn't a roach-motel hole, but it wasn't the Ritz either. Still, it was clean, the door locked, and there was a tiny kitchenette that had a working microwave and a mini-stovetop and a sink. No fridge though. The bathroom checked out, too. I went and sat on the bed and started dumping my bags out. Niko chuckled but said nothing, sitting on the bed with his back to mine.

"Nik. What did you say to Rafferty?" I wanted to know; Rafferty had been furious.

Niko grunted, shifting back to grumpy. "He tried to tell me I was a horrible abusive monster - which I don't deny - but when he tried to tell me I was manipulating you and using you for my own amusement and it was wrong to keep you squashed under my thumb, I got pissed. I don't keep you like some kind of damn pet! You're my brother, for Chrissake's." The anger was hard and hot in his voice, jumping in the muscles of his back.

I leaned back against him. "And?"

"And I told him he was a high-and-mighty hypocrite to try to tell me that, keeping his cousin like a goddamn dog."

"Fuck, Nik!" That had been cruel, and really explained a lot, I thought. I'd have thrown Niko out, too.

"I know. I was pissed, alright?" Niko didn't sound remorseful. He never did. "Also, newsflash. Rafferty thinks I'm criminally insane."

"He told me I was doing real well for someone with PTSD," I reported.

Niko was silent a moment, and I could feel the tension build in his shoulders. "Fuck. I shoulda punched him in the face," he decided. "I was trying to be nice at the time." He grumbled something else under his breath and half-turned, watching me repack over my shoulder.

"Think you really are crazy?" I asked, after a minute of silence.

"If I am, it's no thanks to you," Niko retorted, but gently. "Hell if I know, Cal, but I think PTSD and a history of self-injury is probably a good indicator of questionable sanity. I'm pretty functional these days, though, so I think I'm doing alright. How about you?"

I grimaced. I did remember when Niko had been not-so-functional and those few short teenage years had not been fun for either of us. And the reminder that quite a few of Niko's scars had been self-inflicted was not welcome at all. I didn't even remember when he'd first started with the big scar on his right arm, but that was the oldest and the thickest and the one that got reopened whenever Niko felt particularly freaked out on bad days. It'd been a long time, though, since he'd felt that rattled. I had a sudden pang of worried dismay. What if...?

"Did you...while I was..."

"While you were gone? No, I didn't," Niko answered, succinctly. "I didn't even think about it. I didn't panic, Cal, I spent a week mad as fucking hell. All I could think about was getting you back." He touched the back of my neck, calloused palm cradled against my skin. "What about you?"

"I...I don't know." I wasn't sure. I felt like shit, I kept getting random flashbacks that turned my stomach, but I was...I was here and doing something like normal life and it felt weird. Disconnected, somehow. "I think I'm dissociating? A little? I just feel like...like everything's moving on and it shouldn't."

Niko shook his head. "I don't think you are. I think that's perfectly normal. If anything you do can be normal." He smiled as he said it, and pinched me fondly, just barely enough to bruise.

"Thanks." I finished putting my things in my bags. I zipped them up and dumped them on the floor. I turned to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with Niko, our legs dangling off the foot of the bed. I looked around the cheap motel room, smelled equally cheap sanitizer and cleaners, and it felt familiar. As close to home as it got, really. Home had never been a real place, it had been a car on the road, hotels at night, and Niko beside me. Always beside me. I didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve shit. I shivered and didn't know if I wanted to pull away or press closer.

Niko solved the problem by reaching out to cup the back of my neck. I swayed towards him and he kissed my forehead, a dry brush of lips. "We need food for you. Ramen noodles?"

I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat. "Yeah. Why not."

I didn't know if I wanted to go with Niko, stay in the room, or get sent on my own errand. Niko decided for me, and that irked for some reason. He'd always done that when I balked but now it was...annoying and I couldn't pin down why. It had never been annoying before. When I'd been little, yeah, but that had been different. I got sent to borrow a teakettle from the motel owner or the motel kitchen, whichever had it. The kitchen did, and I didn't exactly ask...I walked in, picked up the battered old kettle, and walked back out. People never noticed if you acted like you belonged there.

I was heating up the water when Niko came back. I didn't move, staring at the kettle and the mini-stovetop, which had given off a funny smell but hadn't caught fire yet. I didn't feel like doing much. Like it was pointless, almost, moving when I'd done so much wrong. When I'd killed and tortured and enjoyed it. I'd done that, I'd done it and I didn't know what to do now that I'd done it. Who in hell could I apologize to? The werewolf was dead, the mugger was eaten, and George? She wouldn't want to see me. Not after what I'd done to her and her family. God, she'd never forgive me.

"Cal." Niko was closer than I thought. His hand dropped on my shoulder. "Cal. Stop."

"Stop what?" I asked, reflexively. I hadn't been doing anything except thinking. I couldn't stop thinking.

Niko took me by both shoulders. "Cal. Look at me." I tried to, but I ended up looking through him - I'd hurt him too. Darkling had known just what to say to make him angry, violent, and despair of saving me. Niko shook me, sharp and hard and just once. I startled, head snapping back. "Cal. Stop. What did I tell you? What happened was not your fault."

"Niko, how can it not be my fault? I did those things!" I leaned back, tried to pull away. "I knew just how to do it! I knew everything Darkling needed, and I couldn't stop him. I didn't want to stop him. I enjoyed it, Nik, it was the best goddamn fun of my life! Tell me how that's not my fault! Tell me how I'm not guilty when I did it all!"

I paused for breath and Niko bulled in, words clipped, steady, and cool against my shouting. "Without Darkling you never would have done it - he was the one who did it, Cal. He used your body but he was the one who did it. And you are not to blame."

"I am! Niko, I did it!" I twisted, trying to throw off his painful grip. It wasn't true it was my fault. I'd done those things and I'd laughed and reveled in the doing. I hadn't been able to stop it, and part of me hadn't wanted to, and why couldn't Nik see that made me just as guilty as Darkling? Just as worthy of the end Niko had put to Darkling.

"This is not your fault," Niko growled, voice dropping low. Dangerous. I stopped fighting, and tensed. "None of this is your fault. Listen to me. Do not feel guilty, Cal, because you are not to blame. Maybe you wanted it, maybe you enjoyed it, but you knew it was wrong and you regret it and you never would have done it without Darkling forcing you. Remember this: you are not to blame."

His silky quiet tone was just as much a signal as the words were: remember this. Dread knotted my stomach, and when he moved I was already ducking my head to avoid the blow. Niko's reminders came with bruises and scars and they always had.

But it wasn't a blow. Niko snatched up my left wrist, twisted me around, and knocking the teapot aside, jammed the heel of my hand against the red-hot eye of the stove.

I think I screamed at that point.

I'm not sure exactly what happened, but I ended up on the floor, clutching at my wrist, staring in shock at the raw semi-circle marks on my hand. Red and angry on the outer edge of my palm and it hurt and I could see the skin missing and the smell was awful, awful. I gagged. Niko grabbed me by my upper arm and hauled me up by main force. In a sudden spurt of panic I kicked him in the shins, but instead of burning me again he shoved my burnt hand under running cold water in the sink. I howled and kicked him and elbowed him damn hard in the ribs, hard enough to make him cough, but after the first shock of exploding agony it didn't hurt as much and almost felt good. I was shaking, all over, and when Niko let go I slid down to the floor again, teeth chattering. He'd burned me, held my hand on the stove, oh God it hurt.

He crouched beside me, and laid a cold wet paper towel over the burn. "It's not your fault. Say it, Cal. It's not your fault."

"I-it's not m-my fault," I managed, teeth clicking together. I felt dizzy, sick, and my hand was throbbing huge and painful and when Niko sat down beside me I slumped against him. "It's not my fault," I whispered, and Niko wrapped his arms around me.

"It's not," Niko agreed, softly.

To Be Continued...

Standing in the dark, I can see a shadow
You're the only light that's breaking through the window
There's times I stayed alive for you
There's times I would have died for you
There's times it didn't matter at all

Will you help me find the right way out?
Or let me take the wrong way down?
Will you straighten me out?
Or make me take the long way around?
I took the low road in
I'll take the high road out
I'll do whatever it takes to be the mistake you can't live without

I'm not gonna give it away
Not gonna let it go just to wake up someday gone, gone
The worst part is looking back and knowing that
I was wrong...
-"The High Road," Three Day's Grace
(Malum in Se Cal's theme)