Waking up to a feather light kiss above a wounded shoulder and the adorable grin of the one called my promised is something I could most definitely get used to. Just waking up next to him in general is something I could get used to. This is the first time I can truly recall where I've gone to bed and woken up with the wanted company of someone close to me. His dark hair is all over the place, slight curls flat against his forehead, day old eyeliner smudged around his eyes. I find that this unfamiliar intimacy is something I could come to crave, as the action fills me with a warmth I've never truly felt before. When Remington notices that I woke up, he sits up and places a pair of black glasses on his face. He's so cute with his messy hair and rumpled clothing.

He laughs lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly behind clear lenses. "Good morning. They're just glasses, sweetness."

'Good morning my dear. You look lovely today.' The demon says, and blood races to my cheeks.

"Good- good morning to you bo-both. That- that doesn't m-mean you don't look cu- cute in them Remy." I refute, jutting out my bottom lip slightly in a half-pout.

I wonder, briefly, why it is that he even needs glasses. I'd always thought vampirism meant the lack of physical ailments upon turning.

"Stop being mushy and get out here already. It's noon!" A knock on the door, thankfully still ajar, and a laugh from Sebastian is heard and then there is nothing but silence from outside.

"Is- Is there a particular r-reason Sebastian doesn't h-hate me a-anymore?" I ask, adjusting the shoulder of my overly large black sweater so that it doesn't rub against my injury.

"He never hated you in the first place, sweetness. Emerson told us what you did to get him back here, which was terribly reckless of you. Sebastian saw what you did for Emerson, and the state you were in when we finally found you. You could have saved yourself, but you put Emerson first and Sebastian knows this. He finally understands that you're not going to hurt us, so I guess he's accepted you into the family. He'll have to get over how much of a trouble magnet you are." Remington grins.

"I have, and I will I suppose. Now, hurry the fuck up!" Sebastian's voice carries from down the hallway once more, and I watch in silent, fond observance as Remington rolls his eyes.

"Guess I forgot to spell the room." He murmers offhandedly, the soft tone of his voice like a spring breeze through a field of freshly bloomed roses.

I find myself loving the sound of his voice, of his laugh. Loving the way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, or the way he dances along to a David Bowie song on the radio.

Yawning, I reach up a hand to cover my mouth, still exhausted from today's events, or was it yesterday? I don't exactly know what time it is. Grinning, Remington wraps his arms around me and suddenly I'm laying next to him once more, despite Sebastian's wishes. Remington's skin is cold, his gentle touch sending shivers down my spine, though I didn't expect him to be warm. Whether I wanted it to or not, once a sting of pain travels through my shoulder, I remember the events of yesterday. I remember the fun I had with Emerson, how he made me laugh and feel safe. How they all make me feel safe. How happy it made me when it felt like I had a family seeing me off from home. Then I remember the pain. The pain of my skin being ripped into by feral fangs. The physical and emotional pain of ripping the souls out of living things once more.

'You can talk to us about anything, my dear.' The demon prompts, deep voice a gentle promise to listen.

After a moment, I relent. It would be nice to be able to talk about my feelings, to not be afraid to be truly vulnerable with someone.

"I d-didn't want to kill- kill them." I murmur, tugging lightly at a strand of my hair to avoid looking Remington in the eyes.

Sitting up suddenly, as though fearing what he'll think of my actions, I continue to avoid his gaze. Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have opened up like this. Remington tucks that same strand of dark blonde hair behind my ear, and as I glance back at him, he smiles at me fondly though comfortingly, "You had to do it, Elizabeth. You would have died. Besides, I wouldn't have been able to thank you for saving my little brother. He's a caring person, he would have laid down his life if it meant you could live, both for his sake and for mine. You're one of us now. You're family, and we protect our own."

I attempt a smile, feeling at least somewhat consoled, though there will forever be two invisible scars on my heart, next to many others. Scars for all the people I've taken souls from. Using my good arm, I lean up a bit to place a kiss on his cheek.

"You- you weren't su-supposed to find ou-out. About my magic, I- I mean." I state.

With a sudden movement, his hands are on my waist, pulling me over and onto him so I straddle his waist. We blink at each other in surprise, and he clearly did not even spare a thought as to what his action entailed. Theres a momentary flash of panic that is blinked away as I loom over him, giggling. My unbrushed, tangled, hair falls around my face, and as it tickles his face, he scrunches up his nose playfully.

I take a moment to realize that whatever barrier between us has cracked significantly. I've allowed myself to want this, to accept this affection. I don't think I regret it.

Remington smirks, reaching up with one hand, the other still on my waist, to very gently grip the back of my neck, and I'm thankful he's so careful around my injuries. He lifts himself up off the bed with the support of an elbow to touch his forehead to my own, a tenderness in his eyes I'd never seen anyone look at me with before I came here.

There's a sense of longing coming from one end of the bond we share, and I realize quickly that its not from Remington. Its from the demon that shares our bond. I don't have time to look into the emotion and it's owner further before Remington catches my attention once more.

"We'll discuss it with the others. It's going to be fine, sweetness." He replies quietly, our noses no more than an inch apart.

"I might have to leave. I've already caused so much trouble for you all." I mumble to myself, entirely disheartened at the thought.

"No. Not unless its completely and utterly necessary. You're safe here. Safer than you would be out there on your own, anyway." Remington is very adamant about my continued residency, and I can honestly say that I don't want to leave, and I simply know in my soul that he doesn't want me gone either.

I don't want to leave him, his brothers, or this house. I think I've finally found a home and I don't want to lose the only true one I've ever had. I don't want to go. Sleeping on an actual bed is nice, not being out on the streets in the rain, or the snow, or the heat. It's wonderful. I'm not hungry here, not out of stolen money to buy food and I'm not cold. These boys, these vampires, they seem to care about me. That's all I've ever wanted. Someone to care about me, and someone for me to care for. Now I've got three... four someones.

"Sweetness..." Remy starts, trailing his hand up the back of my neck and across my jawline to lightly ghost against my scarred cheek.

"I keep for-forgetting you can h-hear me..." I smile sadly, "but it's ok-okay now. I'm he-here, with you and the other boys. I'm okay now. Even with this p-pain in the neck." I laugh at my own pun, even though it was bad.

I mean, my life is still in danger. I'm probably gonna end up dead eventually but at least for now, I'm not alone and I'm as safe as I can be. I'm here with... with my family.

"You're safe here. You're not leaving us. That's final, sweetness." Remington rolls his eyes, that smirk ever present.

"Can I- Can I kiss you?" He asks suddenly, hopeful but completely willing to respect my decision if I say no.

"Yes, but I wouldn't mind if you didn't ask." Red colors my cheeks at my bold declaration, but anticipation fills my bone marrow.

He smiles as he leans in the last few centimeters to meet his lips with my own. Its a soft thing, pleasant as warmth fills me.

We part after only a moment, out of breath but both of us grinning ear to ear. "Can I brush your hair?" He asks out of the blue again, the barest hint of a blush on his paling cheeks.

I nod unsuredly my assent and begin carefully moving off of him, trying not to jostle my shoulder too much. No one has ever brushed my hair before. As soon as I was old enough, I was expected to do that and any other personal hygiene that I was allowed to do myself with barely any instruction. Remington gets off the bed as I sit up with my legs crossed, moving to the dresser across the room and opening the dark oak drawer on the top left. He pulls out a plain old brush and what looks to be a hair tie before walking back over to me. Asking me to sit on the edge of the bed, I comply, bare feet swinging back and forth slightly, knocking on the oak footboard. At the loud thuds, I stop.

"Its fine, you're not bothering me and I doubt my brothers sill care all that much." Remington reassures gently, and after a moment, I continue.

He brushes through my hair with a hand as gentle as his touch, most of the tangles coming out relatively easily.

As he brushes through my blonde mess of hair, I think a bit on the state he's in. When I first got here, and the weeks prior, he was tan, healthy. But now, all three brothers are steadily getting paler, like the life is leaving them. Their movements seem slower, more stiff, and they look more and more exhausted each day. Something is wrong.

I'm brought out of my thoughts as Remington begins to part my hair into three sections, nimble, ice cold fingers brushing against my clothed back every so often. Another moment more and then there's a slight tug as he ties whatever he was doing off. "There. I braided it too." He remarks, moving off of the bed once more to stand in front of me with a proud little smile pulling at his lips.

I grin, admiring his work with an expression of awe. I've never had my hair braided before. It's so pretty. "Th-thank you."

His smile grows wider at my appreciation, stretching into a grin of his own, but then it falls slightly and his gaze grows sadder. "I used to style my mother's hair for her before she died. She was the only one of us with hair long enough to do anything extravagant with it."

He takes my hand in his own then, the one without a wounded shoulder, gently pulling me up to stand on my feet. I wrap my arms around him in a hug, wanting to comfort him but not really knowing how. Leaning his chin atop my head, every word that falls from his lips is a sullen yet hopeful plea that ends in a half-hearted attempt at a playful remark on his own account. "May I do your hair more often? I could really use the practice, I can hardly do my own hair."

"Of course." I smile, pulling away from him just enough to tentatively kiss his jaw.

"I begged for centuries to any higher being for a soulmate." Rem whispers, fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the end of my braid, "I'm so glad I got you. You're everything we've ever wanted."

Tears well up in my eyes, threatening to fall from my eyes like they were drops of rain and I was the storm cloud about to burst from the weight of all of my emotions.

I've never been wanted by anyone before. At least, not in this way. I've been wanted for my magic, for my blood, or simply not wanted at all. I've never had anyone want me, not just my magic or my blood, but me.

Those tears like rain fall down my cheeks, soaking into Remington's shirt, almost like liquid happiness. "Thank you." Is the only reply I can manage, repeating it a few times, trying to convey through the stuttering mess the thickness in my throat has caused that I am grateful to him.

So grateful to all of them. They've given me a home here, as much as I'm afraid to address that fleeting thought. Could I call this house my home?

As Remington leans away from me, his hands come up to rest on my cheeks, thumbs gently rubbing away the tears that are slowing down.

"We should probably head down, sweetness." He states delicately, tender chocolate gaze steadily holding my own teary one.

I nod, sniffling once as his hands fall from my scarred cheeks, and I wipe my face with my sleeve to rid my countenance of any remaining tears. I suck in a breath, forcing my emotions down, down into a box that I shove as far back into my mind as possible. Repressing my tears is second nature at this point. As my hands fall back to my sides, a stab of pain shoots through my shoulder to which I wince. Noticing this, Remington takes my hand and the pain soothes to a dull ache.

"You don't have to force yourself to stop crying, its alright. We won't judge you for it. Letting out your emotions is far better for you than keeping them in."

Nodding, I wipe my eyes once more,, sniffling a final time. Remington and his brothers have only ever assured me that my emotions are natural, nothing to force down, and that I am allowed to exist without fear of reprimand. There will never be words to describe how much I've come to care for them, though they've only shown me basic kindness.

We make our way down the staircase and towards the kitchen, where I can faintly make out Emerson and Sebastian conversing with each other. The cuff of the pajama bottoms I'm wearing drag the floor, even though they'd been rolled up, making me pout ever so slightly in annoyance.

A small shot glass drained of blood sits forgotten in front of each of them on the black granite island, and a single full glass off to the side. Remington lets go of my hand briefly to walk over and down the shot glass, licking his lips clean of the blood. He frowns lightly, though its soon replaced by the ghost smile he usually bares, cheeks slowly gaining the smallest amount of color.

"We need to talk about how you supposedly teleported Emerson back to us, and how you took the souls from those rogue vampires." Sebastian speaks up, eyes like steel though he tries to keep his expression friendly.

Frowning, I nod my head, and in attempts to avoid the situation, if only slightly, I pivot on my heel to make my way into the living room. I don't want to talk about this, but I know I need to and that there is no avoiding it. I wrap my arms around myself, gripping my elbows tightly as though I can protect myself from whatever this conversation will bring.

The tingle and cold of Remington's hand very carefully prying my fingers apart enough to loop his arm with my own gives me some sense of comfort, falling into step beside me.

'You'll be fine.'

'If he says anything too rude, I'll send him through the wall.'

A tilt of my head in acknowledgement of the thoughts purposefully sent my way is all I give before I plop down onto the couch with a sigh. I lean into Rem heavily as the other brothers sit across from us.

"Before Sebastian says anything, I want to thank you for doing whatever it was that you did. I could've gotten seriously hurt because of my magic stunt that I didn't properly think through. Thank you, really." Emerson states, casting a sheepish smile in my direction to which I grin weakly back.

"Yes, yes, it's appreciation day. Can we get on with the interrogation?" Seb cuts in quickly after Em is done talking, though there's a playful edge to his tone.

"C-can we not call- call it an intero-interrogation?" I wince, voice small.

"Poor word choice." Emerson murmurs and Remington pulls me that little bit closer into his side.

"Yes, poor word choice, I apologize. I only meant that I wish to know more about this magic you seen to be able to wield. What exactly is it that you can do?"

I think for a moment, unsure of how to phrase my answer. "W-w-well, I can con-control the sshad-shadows and make skeletons rise from the Earth, though the l-latter is more of an on and off thing. Its fi-fickle. I'm also able to rip- r-rip the souls out of people but I absolutely hate- hate doing it."

"I can see souls as well, so don't worry about the ones of those vampires Elizabeth. They were going to kill you." Seb states after a beat of somewhat stunned silence, finally gaining his bearings, in attempts to reassure me about the whole soul-extraction thing that I despise.

I've been frowning a lot, so I try for a small smile instead, appreciating the kind gesture.

"It's curious how you're a human with these abilities. Where'd they come from?" Sebastian tosses out a question again.

"I was born with them. My... biological parents are human with no magic, and no one in our family was a known witch. I'm the only oddity. My parents gave me up to the government when I was really young, around five I think, because of what I could do. I was kept in a lab for fifteen years, used for my powers. It wasn't horrible, they treated me well enough, until they decided they wanted to kill me because...," I pause, embarassed because of the heavy stutter I have and remembering the grin on his face and the beady eyes that still haunt my waking moments, "I no longer complied. It... it doesn't bother me all that much, at least, I try not to let it. I was just a test subject to them, and they were just my doctors." The nervousness constricting my lungs causes me to ramble, which causes my stutter to worsen, explaining much more than was asked.

I'd have died much sooner if it wasn't for that laboratory, under the guise of an asylum meant to help its supernatural and human patients. My parents wouldn't have taught me anything, they grew to hate me rather quickly. The nice doctors taught me things about the outside world, though the kind ones were few and far between.

"You're so calm about this, sweetness." Remington blinks gold tinged eyes in surprise, teeth clenched in anger as he listened intently to my thoughts and utterances.

There's a well of fury coming from the demons part of the bond, a rush of fire that consumes all its its wake. The anger bleeds into my own emotions, though I manage to parse it out from my own sadness.

"It's not a big deal Remy. I probably would have died if I hadn't been an... an experiment. My parents, they... I think they would have tossed me out to die, no matter how young I was." I try to refute, my voice but a whisper as I stutter my way through.

"So I take it your parents revoked your surname as well?" Sebastian takes the new information in stride, trying his best to hide the guilt building up in his slow-beating heart.

I nod, trying to come off as unbothered. They don't want me, I don't want them. At least that's what I tell myself.

"Why don't you go by your first and middle name like we do? It'll fit right in with us." Emerson states excitedly, a smirk on his face that hides his sadness and the anger he shares with his brothers.

"I, well, I do-don't think I h-have one." I state unsurely.

I wasn't addressed by a name often, if at all. I had a patient number, and that was all I was known as. The only reason I engender my name at all is because it was attached to my wristband among with my personal information. I disposed of that band as soon as I could. My parents only ever called me by my first name, and I was too young at the time to really remember anything about my full name.

'You could always add mine onto yours. We are soulmates.'

Crimson colors my cheeks rapidly at Remington's suggestion. I can hear the demon laughing quietly in the background, and for a second I zero in on the sound. Their laugh is beautiful.

"Aww, she's a tomato now Sebastian."

"Leave her alone Emerson, if she gets any redder, she'll catch fire." Sebastian's light chuckle causes my pink blush to deepen into red.

"How's that shoulder wound?" Sebastian comments, changing the subject in my favor.

I suppose he could tell the conversation was making me increasingly uncomfortable. "Bet-tter. Hu-hurts like a bitch." I laugh, glad to be done with the previous colloquy, leaning into Remington as he wraps an arm around my waist, a hand splayed across one of my hip bones.

After so long of flinching away from every kind gesture, allowing myself to crave it is something I never imagined.

His thumb paints invisible patterns into my tanned skin, rubbing over a small slash of a puckered scar occasionally, the spot buzzing pleasurably at his touch. I focus on him and his presence as my mind begins to wander, leaning into him further and burying my face into the crook of his neck.

At least they're not immediately out to kill me or something, right? That's new. They don't want me dead because of what I can do and they don't seem bothered by it either. They want me here with them still, and maybe in Sebastians case it's because of my powers, but I can't seem to find it in myself to mind (or believe it to be true, not after he's finally warming up to me). Warmth fills my soul, happiness being the reason my cheeks are pink now.

I blink a couple times to refocus, immediately noticing that Emerson is leaning above Remington and I from behind the couch, the golden ring hanging off his hat nearly hitting me in the eye. "S-sorry, got dis-distracted."

"Emerson asked if you wanted to watch movies or something? It gets rather boring here in this house but at least in recent times there're more forms of entertainment." Rem inquires gently.

"Uh, what kind of movies? I've never... seen any I don't think."

"Oh." Emerson replies, not really knowing what to say, though he knows he should have expected an answer like that.

"Let's watch Beetlejuice!"

A collective groan from Emerson and Sebastian resounds throughout the living room at Remington's jovial suggestion.

"Not again." A shared mutter between the brothers is heard as Remington excitedly leaves the room.

'Can't we watch Batman? I love that guy.'

'Who's Batman?'

'We have to show her. Right after this movie. Its a necessity.'

'Fine, fine.' An exasperated groan sounds through my head as I hear the demon laugh in success.

I just wait curiously as Rem comes back with a large blanket, VHS in his other hand and places it into the television.

We get situated on the couch across from the TV. I cuddle into Remington as close as possible, leaning my head on his shoulder as Emerson leans his head on his shoulder as well. They really are closer to each other than either of them are with Sebastian sometimes.

Sebastian sits next to me, and none of us change seating throughout the movie. Cautiously, when it looks like Sebastian isn't paying attention, I grab some of the blanket and move it onto him so that all four of us can share. He looks over, to which I quickly turn back to the TV, a small smile on my face. Unbeknownst to me, he smiles back. When Beetlejuice himself comes on screen, my first thought is, "Rem has those pants."

I glance at the brothers in confusion as they burst into laughter.

"R-Remington wore th-them last week!"

::

Later that night, Remington and I are in our separate rooms. Even after only a night in the same bed, it's odd without him beside me. I've never had someone sleep with me before, and the presence of someone else was nice, even though he was deathly cold. I had to wrap myself in the comforter to stay warm.

I can tell he's not asleep, but he is reading and I have nothing urgent to say so I leave him alone. I sit in silence for who knows how long, unable to sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see bloodstained floors and my bare feet as I'm dragged out of my room. I can't get the feeling running through me to go away. I can feel the numbing buzz of electricity down my spine as water clogs my lungs. The lamp beside me shines bright enough to see behind my closed eyelids and I want nothing more than to turn it off because my head hurts. The thought of being alone in a room, in complete darkness, sends paralyzing fear into my bones. If the door weren't open a crack, with the only lock being from the inside, I might have run straight out of this room. Maybe even the house. Just so I wasn't confined anywhere. I entertain the thought for a moment, considering sitting out on the porch for a while. I decide against it, the chill in the air will freeze me to the bone and I don't want to risk the boys hearing me move about the house.

I push my palms into my eyes, trying to block out the images, the feelings. I shut off my connection to Remington so he doesn't realize anything is amiss, but I forget to block out the demons connection too.

'Are you alright?'

The voice in my head startles me. I shoot up and look around my room, jostling my injured shoulder in my haste, before I remember.

'No. I can't stop thinking about where I was before. How much it hurt.' In my tired haze, I begin to divulge more than I want.

'My head hurts, but the darkness... I can't take being alone in the dark. It's like I'm back there and any moment they'll come take me away again. They'll hurt me, over and over and over until I do what they want.'

There's silence for a moment, then I get the distinct feeling I'm not alone. I tense up, glancing around the room wildly. A shadow looms on the wall, tall, with twin curling horns protruding from its head. It flickers, as though stuck under unpredictable candlelight as two flames burn where the eyes should be.

'Relax, darling. It's just me. I can project my presence at least this much if it'll help you. Now, turn off your lamp, you're going to aggravate your headache further.' At their voice, I relax.

Their presence is soothing, even if I know they're not with me physically. I follow their order hesitantly. As soon as darkness fills the room, I tense up again. My breathing comes in shorter and shorter pants as my fingers clench the blanket into my fists. Then, there's the image of a hand running over the top of my head. A moment later and its like I can feel the calming motion. The affect is instantaneous. The touch calms me like Remington's would, all gentle brushes of fingers but with the warmth of a blazing fire and without the tingles of a soulmate.

The caress lulls me slowly into a sleepy daze. 'You know... I never caught your name. I'm Elizabeth.'

'I know, my dear. The pleasure is all mine. My name is Andrew, but you may call me Andy if you wish it, he/him pronouns.'

'Pronouns?'

'Your preffered gender, dear.'

'Oh, I think I'm she/her then. That's what I'm always referred to as, and I'm comfortable with them.'

As we speak, my eyes grow heavier and heavier. I can ignore, with moderate difficulty, that the room is dark. The door isn't closed shut, and Andy is here with me. The phantom touch of his hand carding ever so gently through my hair is lulling me to sleep. Before I fully pass to dreamland, I manage to whisper my thanks.

"Andy, thank you."

The phantom hand on my head pauses for a moment, before continuing.

'Anytime, darling.'