Magda shook me awake, and I was incoherent. I hadn't braided my hair before falling asleep, so it was everywhere, and in my mouth, and my fingers were caught in the pendant Adrian had given me that I hadn't taken off (Not taking it off ever, thanksverymuch) and she was saying something about going on a trip, and I had just had the WEIRDEST Kendra Hilferty dream, and I was almost convinced that everything since July had just been done to gain my trust, and now that my guard was down, they were going to ship me to South America and sell me.

And I was too tired to run, even if I wasn't too tired to entertain the notion as potentially viable, and so I let myself be led downstairs, and Adrian and Will were waiting, and I was so tired.

"Where're we going?" I asked. And then yawned.

"Trust me?" Adrian asked.

He was holding something, or else I would have just collapsed into him. It was entirely too early. It was still dark out. I didn't understand what was happening, or why he was pulling hair out of my mouth.

Of course I trusted him. I felt like I hadn't ever trusted anyone, before, but I trusted Adrian.

I wasn't sure if I said anything, but Adrian seemed to sort of think so. He started helping me into my coat, anyway. Oh, he'd been holding my coat.

"We're going someplace great," he said. "Someplace you'll really like. At least, I hope you will."

This wasn't real. None of it.

Any moment, I'd wake up, and it would still be Christmas. I'd stayed up as late as I could. Adrian hadn't left my side the whole day. But it had ended, and I'd finally gone to bed. Hadn't I?

I must have. I'd had a weird Kendra Hilferty dream.

I put my gloves on the wrong hands, and Adrian gently helped me correct my problem when I asked him to switch my thumbs.

The back door opened, and the cold rush of air helped to wake me up a little more.

The limo parked out back helped a little more.

"Do I have to pack any bags? Are we going to the airport?" I asked, and I couldn't help but think of South America again.

Adrian just shook his head. "I have everything you'll need." And then, behind the thick scarf obscuring his beast face from the limo driver, I could just hear him, when he lowered his voice. "I'm taking you to see snow. Like you wanted."

I smiled, and we reached the limo, and the driver, who was holding the door open as Magda slid inside, followed by a careful Pilot guiding Will.

"You're kidding me with the dog, right?" the driver sputtered. Will looked blandly in the man's general direction. Not at the man. Not exactly. That was kind of the point.

"He's a service dog," Will said slowly.

The driver made no move to eject Pilot from the limo, but as I followed Will, and Adrian followed me, he might have slammed the door a little and muttered loudly enough to be heard: "Does that mean he won't poop on the seats?"

Adrian pointedly raised the partition between us and the driver, and I giggled.

We spread out a little, as we started moving. Will stroked Pilot absently. Maybe comfortingly. Pilot hadn't barked or behaved badly in any way, and had been a sterling example of a well-trained, good boy.

Magda settled closest to the partition, but then simply leaned into her seat and made to sleep.

That looked like a great idea.

"Why don't you go back to sleep?" Adrian said, even as I started to settle in, using him as a human pillow. He gestured to my seat belt, and I buckled it obediently. "I wouldn't want you go get hurt," Adrian said in relief, but I didn't comment. I just slumped into him and relaxed.

He made me feel safe.

I had a wish, that I had thought of this months ago; sleeping with Adrian. It would do wonders for any lingering nightmares.

Well. I mean. Not like that. I wasn't thinking of it like that. Just. Using him as a pillow. The innocent kind of sleeping together.

Jeez.

I didn't fall asleep. Not right away. Not when I was so…safe. And warm. And…happy.

My mind drifted to the weird Kendra Hilferty dream I'd had.

Singing, dancing, talking about giving Adrian a chance—letting myself love him.

Was my subconscious telling me to stay?

I…had been thinking of when I'd…have to go.

Staying would be too painful, ultimately. It would be leading him on. Giving him hope.

I couldn't stay with him.

I mean…I did want to.

Maybe what I wanted wasn't right, though. I mean, I'd wanted for years, to fret and worry and give myself a heart attack about my stupid father. My father who…will probably never get better.

And wanting that would mean—had meant, for so many years—to sacrifice anything…mine. In the process.

Maybe wanting Adrian was just a substitute for that want I'd had for my father. Another substitute for someone who needs me.

My subconscious clearly didn't have the best judgement.

And was…also weirdly hung up on Kendra Hilferty.

I mean, I didn't think I'd ever really spoken to Kendra Hilferty. So I don't get why she had become my dream go-to.

But…I know. I know I love Adrian.

He's…kind to me. And good and decent.

I love….

Oh, so much.

I love his roses, and how he reads poetry with me. I love his courage and his sweetness.

I love that he pulls stuff like this. I'd talked, probably offhand complained, about wanting snow.

So he…was getting it for me. In his way.

Like with the leaves.

Like with Christmas.

Adrian…would do anything for me. And…unlike my father, Adrian is…nice to me all the time. And wants to make me happy.

My…

My dad only cares about…drugs.

He's…

It's complicated.

Adrian wasn't asleep, either. But he thought I was.

He'd taken off his gloves and scarf, since the driver couldn't see us, and…

He was stroking my hair.

This…

This was nice.

We exited a tunnel—the Holland Tunnel. And I spoke without thinking.

"Are you going to tell me now where we're going? Like, where exactly?"

His hand pulled away from my hair. "I…didn't know you were awake. Sorry."

"It's okay. It felt nice," I said, grabbing for his hand with my still-gloved one, and grinning, plopping it back to my head.

"Have you seen the sunrise?" he asked, and he still pulled his hand away…but it was to get…a pillow? Weird.

Oh. It was apparently for me.

I tried to wave it away. He was much warmer and more comfortable. But it did end up giving me more support. So I allowed it.

"It's beautiful," I murmured. There were streaks of red peaking over the buildings, and then I realized. "We're…leaving the city?"

Brazil fleeted through my thoughts, but I quashed it easily.

He said there'd be snow.

"Yes," he answered simply, and…he put his hand back to my hair.

"I never have before. Can you believe that?" I murmured, settling into him, into the pillow.

I did fall asleep, then, and no weird Kendra Hilfertys plagued me.

If you have never been in a stretch limo, at 4:30 in the morning, accompanied by a blind man, his service dog, a maid, and a beastly notquite boyfriend, you have missed out. And I encourage you to rectify the situation immediately.

I have never felt like I did, then.

Never. Ever. In my life. Had I ever felt so peaceful and contented and…safe.

Adrian was…my home.

And sleeping next to him, with his beastly hand-claws in my hair, and feeling his breathing underneath me…

I felt like I'd slept a thousand years of the most refreshing sleep.

Have you ever felt that? Like you've slept for a thousand years?

Have you ever felt…so safe?

Because until I experienced it, I had never realized it, but I hadn't.

I wanted this.

I wanted to choose this.

I wanted this forever.

"Take my heart and carry me/to where all dreams are born./Into loves arms, oh such a place/that's always safe and warm./Away from such deceitful lairs/where blackened virtues swarm./into a light where peace must shine/and grants us pardon from a storm./High above the mountain tops/or low as low can be./Makes no difference where we are/a wondrous lyric calls to me./Singing of your splendor/like a miracle performed./I'll stay with you to find the port/that grants us pardon from a storm."

I smiled, and my eyes opened. It was a beautiful poem. And I wished I'd heard it, before. "That's not Shakespeare," I murmured. "Who is it?"

It wasn't Adrian who'd spoken, but Will. When I spoke, he startled, but then he smiled. "I didn't even know you were awake. Sorry. Um…Charlie Smith," he said. "It's called 'Pardon from the Storm.'"

"It reminds me…of Thanksgiving," I said, smiling. "Of…home."

"I thought of you, when I found it, a few weeks ago," Will replied. "I couldn't find a way to fit it into a lesson, really. But I've wanted to share it with you. I keep forgetting."

"A love poem made you think of me?" I was smiling, though. It was nice. I really liked it. It wasn't about romantic love. Well…not only about romantic love. It was about the feelings of love that brought safety. It was about…Adrian. It was what my soul felt, though I'd never had these words to express it.

"Have you given more thought to this…situation?" Will asked, somehow completely ignoring what I'd said. "I know…you've been thinking about a lot of things."

I hesitated. "You said…at the beginning…that I could live here a year. Take the state tests, in June," I said carefully. "That…that I'd be able to…to be 'alive, safe, and a year closer to graduation,' I think is what you said."

"That does sound like something I'd say," Will allotted, smiling.

"I…didn't believe you, then," I admitted. "Everything is…so different. I…I never expected to…to…enjoy it, with you all."

"I didn't know what to expect," Will said softly. "There was…a commotion, one night. And I didn't…do anything about it. I remember that. I just…decided to leave it to Adrian. I figured anyone who was trying to break in, or rob us…deserved to let Adrian scare them a little. It was…maybe cruel. To Adrian, understand. To just…use his appearance. To be fair…it's not something I…think of. Anymore."

I realized, with a jolt, that the one doing the breaking in and potential robbing…had been my father. This…wasn't something we'd talked about, ever. The whole…I started out technically a prisoner…thing.

Stockholm Syndrome. Have we talked about Stockholm Syndrome? Recently? No? It's not just me?

God.

"I didn't understand what…had happened. At first," Will continued. "Adrian was talking about having a visitor, and going shopping. And that…maybe you were like him. He kept saying that. That you were like him, because you didn't have anyone to care about you, just like no one cared about him. I had never realized…he thought that. I had been with him…almost a year. By that point. He had been…difficult. In the beginning. I threatened to quit, last August. But we had managed to connect, better."

I wasn't sure why Will felt the need to talk about…this. It was weird, though, to see things from his point of view. And I was filing information away like crazy. Adrian hadn't known Will all that much longer than he'd known me! That made sense; a professional tutor only knew so much, anyway. Even if Adrian had been…like this his entire life…it would be natural to hire new tutors as he got older. So that he could learn more advanced things.

The blind thing made sense, too. Hire a blind tutor who won't stare at Adrian. It was probably a lot easier to do that than any alternative.

"You know what he did to the house," Will continued. "How…overboard he went. It's how…it's how he knows to show care, I think. His father is of the mind that enough money can remove any obstacle. He was certainly generous when he hired me. Can you imagine if every employer offered you free room and board in a mansion of that size, a credit card for expenses, and a regular salary? Not to mention his offer of benefits. He even threw in vet care for Pilot."

I whistled. "Man, Will, you have to tell me how this fell into your lap! How lucky are you?"

Will chuckled. "I didn't always feel lucky. Adrian…was different. Back then. But that can be a story for another time, perhaps. I did have a point."

"That point being?" I prompted, not unkindly. And Will didn't take it that way, either. I had become hyper-aware of body language cues, since realizing that between Adrian, whose facial cues had been hard to read, and Will, who wore glasses that covered his eyes, I was having a hard time determining little things that I used to be so good at, like frustration or confusion, or fear.

"The…situation…was sticky, to me. I have always abided by three principles: Is it ethical? Is it legal? And is it moral? And…without realizing it, I had been a little…swept away. Taking money from Adrian's father…while vindicating, is…perhaps morally wrong. I am paid to do a job, and I do it, but we use the expense card…like anger management. Adrian is mad that he never sees his father. So he buys a greenhouse. Or a library. Or a small clothes department for your closet. You see?"

"But it's legal," I pointed out. "And I think it's ethical. You do what you're expected to do, as his tutor."

"But I didn't, always, you see. But we had fixed that, more or less. But now…he was bringing someone. A visitor, if we said it nicely. But I was filling in other words. We were hardly benevolent hosts. We were complicit in coercion, kidnapping, blackmail…all quite morally reprehensible, to say nothing of the ethics and legal implications. Using the expense card to furnish a lavish prison is hardly what I thought my job would entail."

I remembered thinking of it as such. I'd referred to Adrian in my head as my 'kidnapper' and 'jailer.' "So…why did you go along with it?"

Will sighed, and adjusted his position, sitting up straighter in his seat. Pilot didn't stir from where he'd laid his head down on Will's lap.

"Questionable morality aside…I could see that my being a part of Adrian's life…had helped him. He didn't know, before I came, how to actually apply himself. He was smart, but had never been told he was smart. I don't know what blockheads taught him before, but all he seemed to know was how to judge appearances and make it seem like he was more studious than he actually was."

I smiled. I wouldn't have let him get away with that. Not if he wanted to keep up with me. Not if he wanted me to keep up with him.

"You're smiling, aren't you? I can hear you," Will said, stone faced.

I laughed. "You're cheating."

"Adrian didn't hurt the case, either. He made…extremely valid points. For all it was a web of lies and deceit which brought you to our home, his reasons for having you stay were genuine concerns. About your father, and the likelihood that you had been introduced as a bargaining chip before. At least Adrian didn't plan to do anything horrible to you. But your father didn't know that. And this was something that would benefit you, because Adrian had the means to keep you safe from that sort of thing. And after being with him for almost a year, at that point…I believed him."

I believed him, too. I could understand the pinch Will had been in, though.

"Ultimately, I decided to go with my gut feeling. Legally, you would be with your father, or with social services, neither of whom could guarantee your safety like Adrian could. Ethically, Adrian was…in the right. Behaving in a socially acceptable way when faced with the prospect of allowing a practice that would put you in a dangerous situation of some kind, whether trading you for some debt, and selling you into servitude, or worse. Morally…I believed staying with us could help you, when I actually got to meet you. And I did tell you so. I wouldn't have gone along with it, if I didn't think it could be salvaged."

"I know you wouldn't have," I assured him. And then we sort of…slipped into silence for a minute.

"So…I ask again. Have you given more thought? To the situation?" Will said after the silence had stretched long enough that I risked falling asleep, again.

"I have," I murmured. "But I don't think I'm done thinking."

Will laughed. "That's certainly fair."

The silence was comfortable and warm.

"Hey, Will," I said softly. "Would you mind…saying the poem again?"

And it was maybe 7 or 8 in the morning, and he was a blind tutor who'd been technically complicit in blackmailing my father into having me live with him for the last five months, which was morally questionable, if nothing else.

And he said, "No problem," and recited the poem like I'd asked him.

It was no less stirring. And sleeping by Adrian's side didn't feel any less safe.

AUTHORS NOTE

This one was a mammoth, compared to the previous blurp of a chapter.

It always sort of bothered me that this all went down the way it did. This is the main crux of any issues I have with the whole idea of not only 'Beastly' but the 'Beauty and the Beast' fairytale itself, and why it's hard to modernize.

So Will, being the tutor, needed to set some things straight.

I do appreciate there being a grey area about this issue that's genuine, even if it's played a little heavy-handed in canon. The movie is explicit straight-up blackmail, and the book kind of...oversimplifies. It's set up like a strawman argument, which has always bugged me, because blaming everything on some villain doesn't have anything to do with the moral rightness or wrongness of you yourself.

And I don't say this to in any way belittle the legitimate abusive situation that Lindy was canonly in. Just...pointing out some stuff.

More eventually! :)

~Angeladex