It's only after everything has passed where I can face Christophe again, without thinking of knocking his head straight off his body. He finds me walking around in one of the hallways, trying to keep up with me, I'm trying to get away from him, I regret what I said. I can't face him, not now!

"Anaise!" He calls out, "please wait up!"

"I have nothing to say to you." I say, why does it feel like we've had this conversation before, Christophe stupidly trailing behind me and I refuse to talk to him.

"I'm sorry?" He almost asks, that gets me to stop and turn around.

"What do you mean you're sorry? Christophe you've done too much this time, you need to learn to control yourself." I say harshly, looking him dead in the eye, all I see is confusion. It's written all over his porcelain skin, all over his blue eyes, everywhere.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He says, but I can still hear the confusion in his voice, what the hell is he confused about? He almost killed Castiel! And now he's acting like he doesn't know what's going on!

"Christophe, I don't have time for this stupidity. Tell it to someone who cares." I say.

"Just tell me what I did wrong, I can fix it. I promise!" He says, eyes wide like a puppy.

I knit my eyebrows together, brushing a piece of hair from my forehead, "what do you mean, tell you what you did? Are you stupid, Christophe?"

"I don't warrant you speaking to me this way." He says.

"You want to know what you did? Okay, follow me. I'll show you what you did." I say angrily, turning around to find Castiel, if he wants to deal with it now, he can but I'm not going be held responsible for any of my actions. We find Castiel quickly, drawing in one of his sketchbooks, gracefully balancing the pencil between his fingers.

"What does Castiel have to do with anything?" Christophe asks, and Castiel's immediately shutting the sketchbook, looking up, annoyance clouding those eyes of his.

"Castiel. Why don't you inform Christophe of his acts the other day." I say, my voice clipped.

Castiel eyes the situation cautiously, not wanting to say anything, "Anaise," he says softly, "I think you should calm down."

"I'm perfectly damn calm, Castiel. I'm just annoyed with Christophe's innocence act." I reply, my eyes locking with his. They practically beg me to step down, but I'm not going to. Castiel ought to smack some sense into Christophe.

Both of them are silent when I'm finished, Christophe sheepishly standing there like an idiot, Castiel's calculating eyes scanning the situation, he's suddenly next to me, stepping in front of me, as if to almost block out Christophe's face. He takes off his blazer, unbuttoning the little button down at his wrist, and pulling his sleeve upwards to reveal the gauze wrapped around his pale arm. I've stepped out from behind him, getting a clear view of Christophe's wide eyes.

"What happened, Castiel?" He asks, alarmed.

"You happened. Don't you remember? You freaked out, dragged us down somewhere you called the Correction Room, aimed your bow and arrow at my heart and shot for me. I got free, but it nicked my arm. Then you laughed and talked about how you missed me, shot the arrow again so it hit where I was standing up against and said next time you wouldn't miss." Castiel says it easily but I know how hard it must be for him to talk about it. He's doing it again, emotionally detaching himself from the subject, I wish I could do that. One mention of something that happened to me and I'm a withering mess of tears. Christophe's eyes are still wide and it looks like he's racking his brains to try and remember what happened, he runs a hand through his hair like he did when I first told him about the baby.

"That's impossible. I haven't shot anything since I was twelve." He says it like he's trying to convince himself rather than Castiel and I.

"The hands never lose their expertise, Christophe. It didn't look like it when you pointed the arrow at me." Castiel says calmly.

"Are you sure you're not imagining things again, Castiel? I mean, it wouldn't be the first time." Christophe laughs a high-pitched, nervous giggle, staring at us.

This seems to change something in Castiel because he tenses up again, his teeth coming down on his bottom lip, "no. I'm not imagining things, Christophe. You tried to kill me."

Christophe blinks a couple times, but then shakes it off, laughing again, "nonsense, Castiel. You're seeing things again."

"He's not, Christophe. I was there, I saw it happen." I speak up, only because I know Castiel needs someone to hold him back before his fist hits Christophe straight in the face.

"You two must be delusional from all the sleep you've lost. When was the last time you two got a good solid twelve hours of sleep?" Christophe asks it like he's a doctor.

"Cut the crap, Chris." Castiel practically spits out, the mention of the name Chris seems to change something in both of them.

"Remember what I said, Cas. I never break a promise." He says, and then he's turning around and walking away. It seems we're done with the conversation but Castiel doesn't seem to think so.

"I'm not done with you." He says, grabbing Christophe's arm in an attempt to stop him, Castiel is a lot stronger than Christophe glaring at him with livid eyes.

"I'm not having a conversation with you when you're like this, Castiel. I thought I made that clear." Christophe says firmly, standing his ground.

"No, Christophe, you are. You're always going on about how I need psychiatric help with my anxiety and oh, poor little Castiel's got it bad because he never sleeps, but what about you? What happens when I tell someone about the way you're acting, Christophe. They're going to agree that you're the unstable one." Castiel says, meaning every word, but apparently Christophe doesn't take him too seriously. He leans his head back in laughter, laughing so loud it shatters me, I see Castiel's eyes wander around as Christophe laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"Oh, Cas, you crack me up. As if anyone would actually believe you." He rips his arm free from Castiel's grip and then leaves. I watch him go away and start listing up the differences in him in the last two days. Christophe is sweet, understanding and considerate. He's always ready to apologize for his acts and ready to rectify it all, and he's the boy I'm apparently in love with. But Chris is ruthless, crazy and won't hesitate to take my life. Chris is the one I'm afraid of.

"Castiel." I say softly, "has he ever been like this?"

"He has moods, just like I do, but they've never gone violent. I don't know Anaise, I never cared much about him as a kid, I was too busy messing around with art or the piano." Castiel confesses, "I've never seen him like this. But I got the clues, Christophe, or rather Chris used to make an appearance every now and then when he brought a girl home and he'd keep her in his quarters for days. He'd snap out of Chris and Christophe would be so bewildered he'd be crying and begging for everyone to forget it. We turned the blind eye to his actions for years, until my father told him he was going to marry you, he straightened up. I guess his first mistake was thinking he could, because he relapsed the moment your lips touched his."

"I'm going to talk to him." I say, it's a heat of the moment decision, only because I want to believe that Christophe is still there, trying to fight over Chris who seems to have taken control. If Chris keeps going like this, one of us are going to be stuck with a body.

"No, you are not." Castiel disagrees.

"I need to fight my own battles." I say, "really, Castiel, I do. I need to talk to him, to figure him out. I'll be fine." He wavers for a bit, but then nods, sending me off quickly. I try to find Christophe everywhere, but opt for somewhere I know he'd always be. Christophe likes the outside, he likes this stupid swing-bench thing right at the end of the Castle gardens, he tends to sit there and think when he's upset. I find him kicking at the ground with his pointed shoes, not looking up to face me when I sit next to him.

"I think we should talk." My voice is more confident than I expected, and I internally thank whatever's making this happen.

"Yeah." He says under his breath.

"Do you really not remember those things Castiel said?" I ask cautiously, treading lightly over each word, careful not to awake Chris.

"No. And that's what scares me, because I did those things. I get little snippets of it back sometimes, but never the whole memory. It's like a part of my brain is holding it back." He says, "sometimes I just black out and I do things that I never thought I would. I think that's what happened when I, you know."

"That doesn't excuse it, but yes, I know." I try a smile, "Christophe, this can't happen when our child is born, you are aware of that? He's going to need a stable father figure, and as you stand right now you don't look very stable." I say quickly, hoping to get through to him.

"I don't know what's wrong with me though, so how will I rectify it?" He asks.

"See the doctor, Christophe. He can help you figure out what's wrong." I reply softly.

"Can't. People would get suspicious." He answers quickly.

"People don't get suspicious when you go to the doctor's Christophe. That's stupid." I say.

"People might not when you and Castiel do, because it's normal for you two. I think you need it, well I know you do after what I've done, but still. Both of you need it, I don't." He says.

"I don't need it, I want to do it. It helps me, as well as Castiel. And it will help you." I say.

"Did you really just come over here to tell me I need therapy?" He asks, a comic tone to his voice.

"No," I smile, "I came over here to tell you that I'm supporting you. As long as you promise to get better, I'm here and I'm bound to you."

"By some stupid agreement between our fathers?" He asks, like it's a bitter taste.

"No, by this baby in here." I guide his hand over to my stomach, "in a couple months he's going to be moving around in there and you're going to feel him kick. And by then you'll need to be better Christophe, because there's no way out of this."

"I know," he says, "I wish I could be better."

"You can, okay?" I give him a small kiss on the cheek, and he smiles.

"Thank you for not completely losing faith in me." He answers.

"That's okay, but you have to know that I still don't trust you, Christophe. You've betrayed me in various ways, hurt me in even more, so don't expect me to jump right into it." I say sternly, but with a smile on my face.

"Okay, I'll try if you will." He says, removing his hand from my stomach, and lacing our hands together.

"Okay." I reply, smiling, "I'll try if you will." And we do. I spend the rest of the week with Christophe, moving back into his quarters, careful not to help Chris out of his hiding spot. We spend late nights talking about our little boy, and laughing about the future. This is the Christophe I love, the soft-spoken, slightly funny one who stays up with me until late, not caring about anything else. He's no Castiel, but he's close, they're alike in ways I can never imagine. It was late the second day since I moved back into his quarters when he really opened up, I never realized that we'd never actually opened up about ourselves, with all the things happening in the background, we'd never gotten the chance to get to know each other.

"You know he loves you." He says softly, and I don't know whom he's referring to.

"Who, my father? Because I do." I say.

"No. Castiel. He loves you, has since the day you two first met." He answers, "and you love him. I guess I got so angry when I saw that kiss you two shared because you'd never done that to me, and you were supposed to marry me for crying out loud. So I got jealous, a little out of hand jealous, but only because what you two have is so much better than what we'll ever be." He finishes, his voice wavering, those deep blue eyes of his clouding over with tears.

"Christophe..." I say, only because I don't really know what else to say.

"It's true, been since the day he arrived here. You two just hit it off immediately, and I can't help wondering if I'll ever have something like that." He goes on.

"Christophe, I don't know that. I don't know if I love him, hell, I don't even know what love is." I reply.

"You love him, I can see it. Anaise, you two are so in love you're practically married. In my opinion, loving someone is being comfortable with them, knowing their every move, and not minding their flaws. It doesn't matter who they are or what they've done, it just matters that you love them, and that's you and Castiel. You don't mind him going crazy every now and then, and he doesn't mind you crying all over him. Because he loves you, always has, and always will." He says. We fall into an uncomfortable silence, and I watch Christophe have an inner battle with himself for a while.

"Kiss me like you mean it." He says after a while, eyes vehement and dripping with raw emotion.

"What?" I ask.

"Kiss me like you mean it," he goes, "just once." I don't know what he means but I comply, planting my lips onto his and kissing him like I actually do mean it. And for once I think I do, I really think I do.

some fluff before everything fucks itself up again