All I felt was pain. His pain, so horribly strong that it blended in with my own, injuries not healing like they usually do and being left to suffer through the burns. I never wanted him to feel pain similar to my own. Never. He doesn't deserve to be hurt. I want him back, next to me. I want to feel the cold skin of his hand wrapped in my warm one, comfort at a single touch. I want to see his chocolate eyes gazing at me with such adoration that I don't know how to properly react. I need him like I need oxygen to breath. He's my everything, and currently my everything is being used to get to me. And it's working.

"Remington." I breathe, tears falling down my cheeks as I take him in.

My gaze never leaves Remington's lips as he's brought in, his leg shackled to the bolt instead of his wrists. The straightjacket constricting his movements stopped him from thrashing about, eyes unfocused and thoughts jumbled in his head.

His lips. Oh gosh, his lips. They've sewn his lips shut.

A sob escapes me as I bring my chained hands forward to rest on his cheeks. His eyes never meet mine, darting around the room haphazardly. He can't see me, eyes clouded over with a purple hue. Nightshade.

"Remington?" I murmur, pained eyes filled with tears though I don't let them fall.

He takes no action to show he heard me, and I'm beginning to think he can't.

'Andy. Andy what's wrong with him? Andy?!'

There was no answer as I called out to Andy multiple times in a panic.

'Andy, please, are you okay? Did they somehow hurt you too? Please, Andy answer me, please.'

"Are you willing to cooperate?"

I look over at the Doctor with a defeated glare, remaining silent. "Oh? Is that a no? Well, I do suppose we can take him back. Maybe a bit more torture will change your mind and rip apart his." He smirks, and my eyes widen.

No. No.

"Fine! I'll... I'll do what you want but don't touch him. Don't you fucking touch him. Or number twenty-two. If you hurt either of them I swear I'll rip you to shreds." I growl, glaring at him as fiercely as I'm able, what with the tears falling down my cheeks.

The Doctor merely smiles, a triumphant gleam in his eyes, "Good girl. Bring her."

I graze Remington's cheek one last time before I'm grabbed by my forearms, de-chained and taken out of the room. I stare at my soulmate over my shoulder as best as I can. I'm not going to let them get hurt. Not anymore.

::

I'm brought to a different block, the cells not made of reinforced glass and merely a normal concrete. I watch in silence as one of the prisoners is brought out. Its a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen with dark chocolate skin as well as blue eyes and curly brown hair.

"Take it." The Doctor orders, pulling out a remote with four buttons.

One is red, usually a bad sign, and the other are all the same black of the remote. He presses one, and the strain on my magic releases. Breathing in deeply, it's almost like I was allowed oxygen instead of my magic. Soon enough, I'm kicked in the back, falling forward on my hands and knees, too lost in the feeling of my magic and how it settles in my body calmly as though it was never restricted in the first place.

"Take it." The doctor spits, much more venomously, walking towards me with evil intent.

My hesitation sends him over the edge, though he never had very much patience where I was concerned when it came to my disobedience. He grabs me by my hair, stepping on one of my hands. I feel the entirety of his weight shift to my right hand, crushing it under his boot. His full two hundred pounds presses painfully on my already scarred hand. Years of running from supernaturals will cause werewolves and vampires to claw at you, though most of the scars are from when I first escaped and had no idea how to protect myself without my magic. It was either my face or chest, or my hands. I chose my hands to suffer the damage.

I did it again. Focused on my past instead of the pain being done to me in the present.

The resounding crack is what brings me from my stupor, pain flooding my mind as my hand burns. Twisting his foot for good measure, the doctor finally steps off my hand much to my relief. I cradle my scarred hand with my good one, careful of the bone sticking out of my bloody palm.

He broke it. He broke my hand. I... it's not the worst thing that has happened to me, but it will surely take a long time to heal at the speed I heal now. The girls sobs cause my pained eyes to land on her once again.

I hesitate, clenching my eyes shut because I didn't- no, couldn't look at her, I didn't want to see the life leave her eyes, didn't want to watch her crumble to the floor as I held her soul in my hands.

I hear her struggle and try to ignore it to at least keep some of whatever sanity I have left. Concentrating on the girl in front of me, I picture the soul inhabiting her body, a brilliant blue like all living creatures. Reaching my uninjured hand forward, I stop just before we touch. She's crying, sobbing, begging to go home. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand that she's about to die, but I think she knows deep in the soul I'm about to take from her. Opening my eyes, the silver and gold glowing like sun and moon in their respective times of day, I pull the soul from her body.

She falls limp in the grip of the orderlies, dragged away as I hold her soul in my hand. I let out a sob as the soul is taken from my grip and another person is brought out. My vision blurs for a moment and I feel faint. It's a man this time. I take his soul too, trying so hard to look at him. I can't handle it. They deserve to be seen right before they die, but I'm too weak. I can't.

It's after I take the soul of the third prisoner that my limbs begin to feel numb, tiny little pinpricks all over my skin, spreading from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. A migraine pounds in the back of my mind, relentlessly bashing against my skull, one of the only parts of me that isn't numb.

A child is brought out, younger than the first. A little werewolf boy who can't yet control his wolf transformation. Two little grey wolf ears twitch on his head as he stares up at me with absolutely terrified emerald eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry. It won't hurt. It won't hurt, I promise." I tell him, crouching down to hold his cheek in my palm.

I'm sobbing now, hugging the child as I close my eyes, careful not to touch my hand to anything. It hurts so badly, I just want it to stop. I focus on his soul too, a tiny little thing that could have become something beautiful. This little boy could have had a future. But I'm taking that future from him.

His lifeless body goes limp in my arms, head falling to rest on my shoulder as though he's merely asleep. I know better, and that only makes it worse.

This is for Remington. This is for Remington, Andy, and Austin. I won't let them get hurt anymore. Not when I can do something to stop it, no matter how much pain it brings me. My only regret will be the lives I have to take to protect those I cherish. I was grateful to Austin. He'd tried his best to comfort me, I admire him for that. Terrifying situations can lead to good things I suppose, that good thing being his friendship.

I let the boy go as the orderlies harshly tug him from my tight grip. My vision fades in and out as the migraine becomes excruciatingly painful. Stop. Stop. It hurts.

I don't want to hurt anymore.

I'm dragged to my feet, forced to stand even as the shadows crawl up my legs, the black mist beginning to roll off of my body.

"Again!" He orders, cold eyes sweeping my form carelessly.

I remain unresponsive, though not intentionally.

The doctor presses the button next to the one that gave me my magic back, small bouts of electric shocks immediately fizzling through my alreasy agitated nerves, adding to the pain that soul taking caused me and the agony coursing through my hand.

With a grunt of annoyance, the Doctor orders me to be taken back to my cell. Everything after that is a blur. I don't remember coming back to the cell, nor do I remember being chained back up next to Remington. I see everything, but it doesn't register. The orderlies care naught for my injured hand, shackling both together and to the bolt in the ground. I could feel him close to me, but all of my senses were dull, any noise made sounding distorted and vision spotting with black dots.

The lights are all shut off, thankfully. I force myself to sit up with one arm, struggling to get my limbs to cooperate. Crawling over to Remington, I move as close to him as possible, shadows still curling off my body. His eyes are more focused now, and he's looking at me with worried eyes. I reach up, resting my good hand on his cheek for only a moment, laying my head on his shoulder as I sit up next to him. Staring straight ahead, I hardly notice my eyes closing or how I had passed out. When I sleep, next to my love, I can almost say I'm at peace.

::

"How far now Andrew?" Emerson asks, holding the phone up to his ear.

"About eight hours. You should get there by nightfall." Is his reply.

"Good. Thank you again."

"It's no problem. It's partially my fault they got captured in the first place. I'd been needing to set up more barrier spells."

Sebastian takes the phone, "It wasn't your fault so don't you dare blame yourself. Call us when we get close."

The conversation ends quickly after that. "I hope it was the right choice to go by car instead of traveling with the house."

"They could be tracking our home as well, so despite this taking far longer, I don't think they'll know we're coming." Sebastian replies.

"I'm worried about them. You've seen Eliza's scars... they're not afraid to hurt them."

"I know Emerson. They'll be fine, I hope."