Nicholas stumbled backwards, clutching at the remains of his hand. Vincent held a matching expression of shock on his face as he finally pushed back up onto his feet. Spencer was alive, standing right in front of him as if nothing had ever happened. It shouldn't be possible, but he couldn't deny what he was seeing.

"Please tell me you have vireen on you?" Spencer asked.

Vincent couldn't get a word out of his mouth as he riffled through his pockets for the vireen. His throw almost went wide but Spencer still caught it, frowning at him in concern as if he hadn't just come back from the dead. Vincent blinked wildly, trying to see through some kind of illusion or hallucination, but when he opened his eyes, Spencer was still there.

A hand grabbed his arm and hauled him over to the door, Spencer's wide eyes looking him up and down. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," he answered, glancing over at Nicholas, who was still struggling with his bleeding hand. "Just shocked." What else was he supposed to say? How did he explain how happy he was to see him alive and yet, so confused?

"Good. Let's deal with this, get your damn horse and get out of here," came the reply, far too blase for the situation.

Across the room from them Nicholas had stopped the bleeding, but not even vireen could grow back a missing limb, no matter how powerful. The stump had healed over, ragged and useless, rage in Nicholas's eyes. He was panting loudly, exhausted and in pain, but one look in his eyes told Vincent that it wasn't over yet.

Desperate for a weapon, Vincent lunged for the blood covered knife, kicking away the fingers that had once held it. His knife, back in his hands again, felt strange but pleasing. It was nothing compared to the gun Spencer held, but it was the first thing he'd had in a while. Maybe it would be enough to finally get rid of Nicholas.

"Scum," Nicholas spat, his stump of an arm cradled against his chest. "Do you really think you'll get away with this? That you won't be hunted down for the rest of your lives?"

"No, I know we will be," Spencer replied, a smirk pulling at his lips as he lifted his gun again. "But that's not really anything different to how we were before all this."

The shot that rang out hurt Vincent's ears. He was still struggling to keep up with what was going on, unable to control the power rushing through him, overwhelming him. He stumbled back and jumped at the hand that touched his back. Spencer whispered something to him, sad and concerned, but the rush of blood to his head muffled it.

Even with a missing hand, Nicholas was still fast enough to dodge the shot. Spencer tsked in irritation and shot again, this time only grazing his arm. It wasn't going to be enough, even with Spencer there, alive, not when Vincent was still struggling to control the magic he had given himself.

"Deal with him for a second," he said, unsure of how loud or clear his words were. "I need to focus or I'm going to pass out."

Despite everything, Spencer barked out a laugh. "You're going to pass out?" he said incredulously. "You're lucky I haven't yet."

"Focus it on one specific thing, like I told you. Your gun," he explained. They'd talked about it on the horse ride back to New Feridian, but discussing it and experiencing it were two completely different things. He followed his own advice, trying to push everything towards his strength and his knife while the sound of gunshots filled the room.

It shouldn't have been that hard, but his confused thoughts got in the way. Too much of him was trying to work out how Spencer was alive instead of focusing on the man trying to kill him again. Later, he could worry about it later, once Nicholas was dead and they healed the Governor.

Finally, he felt the magic of the vireen gather at his hands, under his skin, around his blade, like a rush of adrenaline. Before him, Nicholas was struggling to heal a wound in his side caused by Spencer's slicing shots. They could cut through anything, the walls around them included, shattering glass and chopping books in half.

Nicholas's struggles left him open and with a tap of Spencer's wrist to let him know what he was doing, Vincent shot forward. He darted under Nicholas's swinging arm and dragged the serrated knife up his side, vines grabbing a hold of the skin and clothing.

Focusing all his magic on his strength and his blade meant that he wasn't fast enough to avoid Nicholas spinning and punching him in the back of the head. He fell forward, forehead slamming into the nearby desk. The blow should have killed him or, at the very least, knocked him out, but he staggered to his feet, blood in his eyes and his head screaming with pain.

It faded in seconds, but those few seconds were costly. A punch to his chest cracked ribs and made him choke. The only reason he kept a hold of his knife was because the vines kept it glued against his palm. He'd never felt such pain before, but he couldn't let it stop him. Nicholas had to die. He'd shot Spencer.

The loud bang of a gun filled the room again and everything seemed to slow down. In front of him, Nicholas made a choked noise, red on his lips. Blood blossomed from the front of his shirt, joining what had already spilled from the vines still crawling their way up his side, weak and thin compared to those in Riuta.

He took a step back from them both, eyes wide with fear, and clamped a hand over his stomach. Vincent couldn't let him heal, not again. As the vireen raced to fix his cracked ribs and the cut across his forehead, he took two shaking steps forwards, glaring wildly. He didn't say a word, didn't want to give Nicholas another second to recover, and plunged his knife into his throat.

The blood that spurted was nothing he hadn't seen before, dark and unpleasant. He took a step away from Nicholas's falling body, ripping the knife out as he went. The blood spilled everywhere, bathed everything in red, Vincent included. The wide eyes that stared up at him were dark with fear, with loathing, but all he did was sneer down at them.

Footsteps pounded across the room towards him, far too loud. He only had a second to push the magic away from his hearing before Spencer shot again, loud over the sound of Nicholas gurgling for help, trying desperately to heal the gash in his neck. A bullet to the head put a stop to his struggling, put a stop to everything about him.

The vines continued to crawl, eating away at the walls of Nicholas's office, snaking their way up the dead advisor's body. Vincent didn't know how to stop them, if it was even possible, but it was satisfying to watch them wrap around a dead man's neck and plunge into the gash he had created.

Spencer made a noise in the back of his throat. "I saw a body when I was coming in here, near the back gate. Couldn't tell who it was though. That was you too, wasn't it?" he asked.

How much had the vines covered before Spencer had made it up there? "Mira," he answered, searching within himself for some sign of guilt. He found nothing.

"Well, can't say I'm surprised," Spencer said and ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck..."

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating as the two men stood over the body of the person they had just killed. Charlotte lay nearby, safe from the vines but still unconscious. He had enough power in him to heal her. It wasn't as if they could just let the Governor die, could he? Maybe he could, it would be so easy. But if he did, then there would be no one to stop the townsfolk from murdering the natives.

With a sigh, he staggered over to her and dropped to his knees, pulling the vireen from his pocket. All he could do was try what he had with Spencer again, assuming that was how the other man had survived. The magic was still trying to heal him, but the stab wound in Charlotte's side and the bruises on her face were more important.

Spencer sat on the other side of her, watching with wide eyes as the vines pulled at her flesh, swiped over her bruises, leaving the skin pale and scar free. She didn't wake up, but her breathing was even and there was no sign of pain in her face. It was far easier to tell the second time around that he had done the right thing.

"Was that why I woke up without a hole in my stomach and a dead chunk of vireen next to me?" Spencer asked when they both stood back up.

Vincent nodded and put his new piece in his pocket to save for later. "I didn't think... I thought it hadn't worked," he whispered and took a few steps away from him.

"Well, surprise!" Spencer said with his hands splayed out. The smile dropped from his face when he glanced over at Nicholas's body. "So much for getting Sparks and getting out."

"I thought he'd killed you."

Silence again. Vincent didn't look him in the eye, scared of what he would see there. Then came the creak of wood under heavy boots, closer and closer until Vincent was wincing in anticipation, waiting for Spencer to say something awful. But he didn't. Hands cupped his cheeks, calloused but somehow still soft, urging him to look up. He did and didn't know what to think of the look in Spencer's eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Can I?" Spencer asked, earning a shaky nod out of him.

He didn't know what he was saying yes too until chapped lips pressed against his own. It was sweet, a warm press of lips that left him breathless and wanting more. He pushed closer, not knowing that to do with his hands, but he didn't want to think too much, not then, not when Spencer was holding him like he was something precious.

Spencer's shirt was soft against his fingers, the vireen elevating every feeling. It only lasted a few seconds, but when he pulled away, he wanted nothing more than to lean back in. There was a smile on Spencer's face when Vincent opened his eyes, one hand still cupping his cheek. Vincent pulled away completely, realising then that he'd had to stand on his toes to reach the other man.

"Thank you for saving me," Spencer whispered, his voice kind and gentle, unlike anything he had heard before. They were standing in each other's arms, a dead man on the ground and an unconscious woman nearby. There was blood and vines everywhere, but for a few seconds, Vincent couldn't care less. It wasn't something he had ever expected to happen, despite how much he had wanted it sometimes, and it brought a small smile to his face.

Maybe he would regret it later, maybe Spencer would, but for the moment, he could just be. Before another word could be said, he leaned forward and pecked the other man on the lips. "I couldn't just let you die," he said.

"And to think, only a couple of weeks ago, you didn't like me at all," Spencer said with a grin. He might have almost died, they might have just killed a man, but he was already back to what he usually did.

"I still don't like you," he said.

Spencer hummed, a single eyebrow raised. "Sure you don't," he said and leaned forward to kiss him again.

A groan nearby forced them away. Charlotte stirred, her eyes fluttering open. With shaking hands, she reached for her side and tapped at where the bruises on her face had once been. A deep frown pulled at her lips when she felt nothing and immediately, her eyes searching the room.

The first thing she saw was Nicholas's body and the pink-white vines that had encompassed him. She gagged and looked up, straight into Vincent's eyes. "Was this you?" she asked, voice almost as quiet as the room. All he could do was nod at her. "And me? How am I alright? I thought... I thought he was going to kill me."

"Vireen," Vincent said.

"But I didn't have any on me."

"No, I did," he told her and pulled the rock out from his pocket.

She gaped at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That shouldn't be possible," she muttered and climbed to her feet. There was a hole in her dress from where she had been stabbed and she stopped to examine it. "There isn't even a scar... How is that...."

She was off in her own little world, leaving Vincent and Spencer to stand in the middle of the destroyed room, hands grazing. Neither of them said anything, just watched as Charlotte inspected the room and the body lying in the middle of it. She stared down at Nicholas in disdain and disappointment before glancing over at the shattered pieces of vase.

"It shouldn't have come to this," she whispered and took a couple of shaky steps towards the two men. "I'm sorry it did, but I'm going to fix things, I swear. You two need to tell me everything that happened, I need to know the full picture. But somewhere else. I can't... I can't look at him anymore."

It was a brutal sight, even to Vincent. Charlotte was already heading for the broken door by the time Vincent even thought about moving, borderline jogging towards the stairs. He grabbed Spencer's wrist to pull him with him, but stopped, his hand shifting down until their fingers laced together. Ignoring the heat in his cheeks and the triumphant smirk on Spencer's face, they walked from the office and out into the chaos of the rest of the manor, leaving a dead Nicholas far behind.