Thunk.

His eyelids flutter open lightly. Dazed and still half asleep, he glances around wildly, searching for the source of the disturbance.

Everything is still – too still. The night is as tranquil as death itself. But he knows that can't be right. He heard something. A presence is nearby. He can feel it.

He slips out of his bed, removing the covers as slowly as possible, making sure not to alert the intruder. He twists, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and digs his toes into the thick carpet below. Then he pushes himself up slowly, freezing when the bed springs let out a shrill cry of protest. He waits a few more seconds before giving himself one last push off of the bed, and his feet sink softly into the carpet below. He begins to tiptoe across the room before he flattens himself against the doorframe. He imagines himself as a ninja, silent and deadly, as he peeks around the corner.

A figure, cloaked in the blackness of night, moves painstakingly across the living room, escaping towards the door. To anyone else, it would be impossible to identify the person, but he knows. Every motion, every feature has been permanently etched in his mind. He knows this person as well as he knows himself. She is his flesh and blood; she is his other half – they are one.

Pale, white moonlight leaks through the windows and highlights the hair cascading down her shoulders, visibly pronouncing all traces of red. It outlines her features, and he sees her eyelashes flutter slightly. She stiffens, uncomfortable with the light illuminating her, unmasking her, but she proceeds to reach for her jacket, the thick, winter one, and her running shoes.

She is sneaking out.

The revelation dawns on Dan, tingling his senses like a cold, morning shower. Yet he knows this was coming. It only confirms his suspicions, backs up what is already known. Yesterday, it had been the dirty shoes. They had been wet and muddy, and a slight puddle had formed around them. A leaf had also been in her hair at breakfast; she had claimed to have had her window open all night.

She is a terrible liar – always has been, always will be. Who leaves their window open in the middle of winter?

It is obvious what she is doing. She is meeting someone. Worst of all is the fact that she doesn't want him to know it.

She slips her shoes on and reaches for the door handle. Her arm pulls back at the last second, and she turns. He pulls his head back in response, barely allowing his eyes to see beyond the door frame.

She stares at the room, taking the time to linger on every object before reaching out and grabbing Dan's tuque from the coat rack. She pulls it close to her and hugs it tightly, burying her face in it. For what seems like an eternity, she stays that way, and he can hear her ragged breathing. He continues to watch as she finally separates herself from it and attempts to hang it back up. Her hands are clumsy; she almost drops it. She clenches her palms tightly, gripping the tuque for all she is worth, before she pulls it back to her chest. She doesn't let go.

He is bewildered. What could bring her to be so sentimental over his hat?

Another wave of sorrow washes over her face like water crashing upon the shore. It is almost instantly replaced by a look of determination. She is about to go through with her plan.

She turns, with the hat still in one hand, pries the door gently open, and disappears into the deep, dark abyss of the unknown.

Cold air forces its way in, completely uninvited, and Dan, still in his pajamas, shivers uncontrollably. The door closes softly behind her, and everything is once again utterly peaceful.

He remains frozen, afraid that she will come back, unsure of what his next move should be, unsure of anything in his sleep-deprived state. At once, the pieces fall into place. He must follow her; he must be with her to face whoever it is that she is confronting.

Stealthily, he emerges from behind the doorway and rushes towards the door where he last saw her, afraid that he has already lost her. Suddenly, he feels his toe colliding with something hard and inevitably finds himself falling face first onto the floor. Down he crashes, his arms and legs sprawling wildly over the carpet. His fall is cushioned– he is not injured, but precious time has been lost. She has gained an even greater lead on him.

Knowing that every second counts, he pushes himself off of the ground, but cannot help but search for what tripped him. He scours the floor and is surprised to find a small, cracked angel figurine lying on the ground. He laughs to himself; even in stealth mode she is a klutz.

His mood immediately sobers, however, as he realizes how far ahead she is. He instantly grabs his shoes, forces them onto his feet, pulls on the warmest jacket he can find, and trips his way into the night.

A bone-chilling wind is the first thing to greet him. On impulse, he clutches his jacket and pulls it even more tightly around him, but nothing protects his legs. Still, he pushes onward. He glances around desperately, hoping to catch any glimpse of his sister.

There is none.

Inexplicable tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes, and he tries to blink them away. He looks down as he blinks and catches a glimpse of something all too obvious: footprints.

A small smile lights up his face, and he wipes at his eyes and nose before beginning to chase down his sister's trail. He moves as quickly as he can despite the slippery ground and ignores the distant howl of a wolf.

Life is different than it was in Boston. Instead of the consistent noise and concrete jungle, greenery and wild animals invade their backyard. He likes it – most of the time. Not that he has a choice.

The footprints lead him on, the only thing besides the moonlight that remains ever constant.

He is tired, cold, and frustrated, but he persists. The footprints begin to lead him into the forest, and bushes begin to tear at his clothes and skin. A tree branch strikes his face while a twig snaps under his foot. Even the moonlight begins to betray him. The thicker the forest gets, the less light that filters in.

He is lost. He cannot allow himself to admit it, but it is the truth. The footprints have faded; whatever remains of them is almost impossible to see. The wind has picked up intensity, and tree branches billow menacingly above him. He is almost ready to give up.

A twig snaps.

He swings his head in alarm and catches a glimpse of a dark, hooded figure. He follows suit.

As quietly as possible, he makes his way through the underbrush, avoiding the twigs as best he can. The figure is at a distance; it does not hear any noise that he makes.

When the figure slows, so does Dan. He makes his way as close as possible, trying to make out the figure. It has stopped and stands alone under a tall oak tree. The figure has placed its hands in its pockets; it is waiting for someone. It is also nervous.

He slows as he approaches a particularly dense section of underbrush. This will make a good hiding place; it is sheltered and dark.

The lonely figure remains waiting, but Dan does not need to see its face to identify it. The annoying tapping of its foot is enough. He has found his sister.

He continues to wait with her, one not realizing the other's presence. A clearing is nearby, and a small amount of light breaks through the army of towering trees. It is a sleepy sort of evening – the moon is full, and the night is peaceful. Exhausted, he feels himself beginning to nod off. It is a sudden sound that reawakens him, alerting his senses.

He looks up and sees that another figure has joined his sister. It is tall, its posture absolutely perfect, and moonlight plays dancing shadows across its features. He looks closer, straining to see who it is.

"Hello, Amy."

He gasps, partly in disbelief but also in disgust. He should have known. She is meeting with that… cobra.

"Ian."

"A beautiful evening, isn't it?"

"Just get this over with, Ian. I can't go on much longer." Her voice is strained, but the emotions playing across her face are obscured from view.

Ian sighs. "Very well, then. Your brother is here?"

"No," Amy responds defiantly. "It's just me, but I brought the ring."

"You know what they said," Ian replies, his voice rising slightly, his dark eyes immersed in shadow. "They want your brother here, too."

He sees her raise her chin stubbornly. "You can have anything you want, except for Dan. You can't touch a hair on his head. Not on my watch. "

"I suppose, if you have the ring, it will still work," is his only reply.

"Here," Amy says, reaching into her coat pocket. "I do."

Ian reaches out his hand.

Dan is furious. The two-timing cobra is blackmailing his sister – again. He feels an undeniable rage wash over him, and he stands up, determined to pummel this despicable snake into a pulp. A black shape in the corner of his eye stops him cold, however.

A man, almost completely obscured in the shadows, steps forward slightly, a shiny, black pistol pointed at Ian's back. For the first time, Dan begins to notice other dark forms hidden among the trees, ones that are most definitely human. They are not alone.

Amy reaches into her pocket and slowly removes the ring. Painstakingly, as though the very action causes her physical pain, she places it in Ian's outstretched hand. His palm closes on hers, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. Then he pulls away.

The man behind Ian pokes him in the back with the pistol. Ian does not respond, but he stiffens. Shadows dance dangerously across his face, darkening his handsome features.

Gently, Ian reaches out and touches Amy's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze before steering her towards a path on the other side of the clearing. As they begin to walk away, Dan sees the shady figures, each with pistols pointed out, begin to follow.

He feels like crying out. He feels like telling them to stop, but he can't. If he does, they will all be doomed. He cannot put his sister in any more danger. And so, he waits. For several moments, he sits quietly among the rough, prickly bushes with nothing but the cool, crisp air to keep him company.

The sound of a door slamming breaks the silence. They are leaving. The realization hits Dan suddenly, and before he can stop himself, he runs. He bursts out of the bushes and dashes towards the road, crashing into tree limbs and cracking twigs as he goes, racing to just beyond forest.

The road on the other side is almost deserted – only a black limo, almost blending into the night, remains, and it is already beginning to disappear into the night.

His brain is rendered powerless as his legs begin to overtake him. They cannot escape; he will not let them. He runs down the road, but the limo has already begun to pick up speed. Faster he goes, until pain begins to mercilessly attack his side. No one sees him.

He is about to give up, to give up hope, when a small head appears in the back window. The moonlight hits the glass just right, and two, round, amber eyes widen before the limousine disappears on a bend in the road.

He has been defeated. They have taken his sister. His legs finally abandon their futile mission and begin to slow, but his heavy panting does not. His airways burn, screaming for more air. And as the shock begins to sink in, he sags against a nearby tree and weeps. All time is a blur. His emotions rage against each other, and he fights. He fights because he cannot bear to accept the truth.

By the time the flood of emotions that have burst forth from within him are drained, emptied, by the time there are no more tears left for him to shed, the moon has already begun to travel back down across the sky. His eyes are red, his nose runny, and his head throbbing, but he doesn't care. He begins to walk home, trying to pick up the pieces that have been shattered along the way.

As he reaches the house, a line of pinks and reds has already begun to paint the horizon. Dawn is approaching, he realizes. He makes his way into the house, drops his coat, kicks off his shoes, and falls into his bed. He does not want to sleep – he only wishes to bury himself under the covers and never come out.

Minutes pass, hours pass, and even the fresh rays of the morning sun cannot lighten his burdens. He tosses and turns, unable to evade anything, except for sleep. Fear has overtaken his mind.

Thunk.

The sound startles him once again. He pulls the covers even further over his head, afraid that they might have come back for him. Not that it would matter.

Soft footsteps approach, and Dan sinks even lower into his bed. The footsteps stop at his doorway momentarily before entering. His tense muscles relax as he realizes who has entered.

She sits down on the bed beside him and reaches out to touch his face. He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting her to realize how much he missed her, how he would have done anything to save her, how he had snuck out after her.

Her fingers play with his hair, and he can almost feel a smile spreading across her face.

"It's over, Dan," she whispers softly. "I-I gave in. We lost."

Dan stiffens slightly as her voice cracks.

"But we have each other," she states firmly. "And that's the most important thing." He can almost see her cocking her head in deep concentration. "But did I do the right thing? C-could I have made a better choice?"

No longer can he let her second guess herself. He opens his eyes and turns to face her.

"You did the right thing, Amy."

Her eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly understands. She knows that he knows, but she doesn't say a word. She pulls him into a hug, and for once, he doesn't complain.

She feels grimy, dirty, and when he looks back at her, he sees traces of blood across her face, her clothing. In the past few hours, she has been through more than she will ever care to admit, but right now, it doesn't matter. All that matters is the fact that she is here, right in front of him. They are together.

"But what if I had-"

Dan holds up a hand to interrupt her. "It doesn't matter, Amy. You can't change the past, so stop worrying about it. As long as we're together, we can get through anything. You'll see. We always do."

She smiles warmly at him. Life will be difficult, the winds of change blowing strongly and furiously, but as long as they are never apart, as long as they remain side by side, they can face anything. Absolutely anything.

I realize that there are quite a few missing details here, but I will leave all that up to your imagination. I suppose that the "bad guys" could be Vespers and that the ring could be Gideon's ring, but it's up to you.