[Beginning of the End 4/7] Crossed Lines

|| Sleep, recently, was something of a foreign concept. Chava's sleep schedule was so off kilter that most days she would arise from a daze not knowing where she was or even who she was. But of course, the sickness was a contributing factor. No matter what, she always felt sick to her stomach, not that this stopped her from eating. Actually, it increased her food variety, as she suddenly had a strange fondness for Damien's usual treats, the blood and hearts. The taste of human flesh and organs. She could stomach them as if she had loved them for years. She'd wake up after thirty minutes of sleep to eat or drink some blood from his stock, usually in the middle of the night while Damien was asleep. About a week after she had initially found out she was pregnant with what was sure to be some kind of demon child, Chava had not slept so much as five minutes in two days, and she was growing slightly delusional. Damien had gone to bed perhaps an hour ago, and Chava lay awake next to him, blinking slowly, barely moving, while her thoughts consumed her. Usually, she could shut down her brain and stop herself from growing batshit with overthinking, but that night was strangely different. It wasn't long before she started shaking, her sharp fingernails digging into the skin of her stomach. Blood from some random didn't seem good enough for her, didn't seem to be able to stifle her insanity, satisfy her needs. She wanted fresh blood, but not from anyone. From herself, from maybe... The moment the dark thought found its way into her brain she bolts upright in bed and runs from the room, unintentionally seeming to make as much noise as possible. She'd run down to the basement, her new favorite spot to hide- though Damien knew by now he'd always find her there. But Chava wasn't thinking about that. She was only thinking about staying away from Damien as much as possible before she could do any damage. Damage was better done to herself, not him. Taking a dagger from its place, Chava curls into a corner of the basement and brings the blade point to her throat. Breathe, she had to breathe...

|| Despite having gone to bed a while before Chava had come to bed, he had woken up at that moment, though chose not to say anything, when he saw she was a bit shaky. Perhaps she just needed some sleep, and would be fine in the morning, though some part of him doubted that. It was a while that he lay next to Chava, never sleeping, as he could still feel her shaking. He was just about to sleep when she had gotten up and moved out of the room. Quickly getting up and following her, he noticed her moving towards the basement. Given what happened last time, Damien started to get worried, before rushing down into the basement, before noticing her with a blade against her neck. "What are you doing!" He shouted quickly, before moving forward to grab the blade from her hands, "Didn't we go over this a week ago?"

|| At that point, she really should have expected Damien to follow her. But then, that had been the last thing on her mind. She had only wanted to stay away, so she couldn't hurt him. While she still had a shred of sanity left. The dark clouds started to fog over the parts of her brain that were still relatively sane, as Chava looks up to see Damien rushing towards her. She didn't even think before she acted. "NO!" she screams, throwing the dagger before he could grab it, just past him. She was almost relieved her aim was shoddy. "Stay away from me, I'm fucking serious." Her voice is higher pitched in tone, shaky and rushed to get all her words out. She wanted to tear the skin from someone's bones using only her fingernails. Her hands travel to her face, scraping her nails down her cheeks. "Leave me be, Damien, leave me be."

|| Damien turned his head to follow the dagger that flew past him, before moving to retrieve it for extra precaution. He couldn't have her hurting herself. "You're not well." He stated simply, moving towards her. "Just go back to bed. Maybe you'll feel better in the morning." He wasn't sure that was true, but for the most part, it was all he could do to keep her from harming herself. He had the wards to keep her in the basement if need be, but he hoped it didn't come to that again. Last time had netted a large argument between the two. "I can't very well leave you be when you seem so intent on harming yourself."

|| She couldn't help but scream in frustration, her mind slowly deteriorating into insanity more and more, in a worse way than she ever had been before. The more she stared at Damien, the less he started to look like Damien. He was just some obstacle in her way. Someone who just wanted to stop her from what she really want to do- and that was to rip someone's throat out. Too preoccupied to look for her wand, she presses herself against the wall, before snapping her fingers to bind herself to it. If he wouldn't leave her be, she had to find a way to keep herself away. "You don't understand," she snarls, shaking more violently. It was all she could do to remind herself it was Damien. Damien, who just wanted to look out for her. Damien, who loved her. "Its not myself I'm going to want to hurt."

|| Damien sighed exasperatedly, before stepping back, and leaning against a wall. While he didn't quite believe her, maybe it would calm her down a bit. He took a deep breath, before raising a brow at her, as he crossed his arms, "Then why did you have your blade against your neck?" he asked simply. He wanted answers and he wasn't going to budge until he got them. He could be as stubborn as her at some times, and this was one of them. "It seemed to me like you were going to harm yourself." He waved a hand towards the door leading towards his torture area before saying, "If you wanted to harm someone, you could tell me, and I'd set you up with some victims."

|| It only took seconds for her to realize that binding herself to the wall wasn't stupid. It was her own spell, and could easily be undone with a snap of her fingers. And, that's what she did. Her eyes were alight and burning, fiats clenching at her side. Victims. His torture room. /Victims./ Something seemed to snap in Chava's mind, which was what she was originally afraid of. But now there was definitely no stopped herself. "Are you dense?" she cries, her vision blurring as she looks at the man in front of her. All colors seemed to lighten and blur into each other, dark hair turning lighter, dark eyes burning. No, he didn't look the same to her anymore, nothing did. She didn't even look the same to herself. Her heart was pounding, as if there was something, all of a sudden, for her to be terrified of. "I don't want A RANDOM!" she screams, before she sets herself in Damien's direction. A fist swings, and her hand waves in a direction to send objects flying, looking for another blade to aide her in her goal. "I SAID TO STAY THE FUCK AWAY!" Another crash, shaking with rage.

|| With a wave of his hand, raising the wards once more, he moves to the far end of the room, so heed Chava's request, as if he was dealing with a bomb with a short fuse. He let the comment about being dense slide, since he couldn't possibly understand what was going on in her mind without her telling him. "If that's not what you want, then explain to me so I can understand." He conjures two seats, one near him, and one near her, before taking his seat, arms folded over his chest, "Because I can't understand if you don't talk to me."

|| Everything he did made no sense to her. Did he really not understand? What more did she have to do? How much longer could she hold back? Not at all, apparently. Only a second after he sets a chair down near her, she grabs it and throws it, with all her force, over his head and across the room. She sends a spell after the flying object, blowing it up into pieces that rained down around them. A moment after, and she stands horribly still, only her head moving to tilt to the side. "Come here," she tells him with a sudden calmness over her tone. Suddenly not wanting him away either. No, if he wanted to know what she wanted, she would /show/ him. She holds a single hand out, inviting him over, eyes unblinking. "Come here," she says again, insisting. "I'll show you, come here, dear. Come closer." Who was it he had started to look like? She knew. She knew the more she looked. The longer it went the more he appeared to her to be his twin in disguise, pretending to be someone he wasn't. Well, he wasn't going to fool her with this trick again.

|| With a flick of his wand, a shield appeared over his head, deflecting the shattered pieces of the chair away from him. After a few moments of silence, Chava speaks again, and Damien raises a brow in doubt. He took a deep breath and leaned forward. "Are you sure? Earlier you were saying to stay away." Regardless of what he thought, he stood up out of his chair, though only took a few steps closer, just in case he set her off again. It seemed to him that her pregnancy was affecting her already, and worse than he could have imagined. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, before taking a few steps more. Slow and steady, but ready to retreat at a moment's notice. That's how he should handle this. "How could you show me, if you don't want a random?" Something about this didn't quite seem right, but if he could get through to her, perhaps help her calm down, maybe return to some semblance of sanity... though that was a far harder goal than most.

|| When he got close enough, her wand slips from her pocket into her hand, the tip moving to point at his chest. "Apparently I have to spell it out for you," she purrs, still in that eerily calm state of being. She takes a step forward, pressing the tip of the wand closer to him. Her hand twitches, wanting so badly to cast a spell. "You must be dense if you think I'd fall for this." Now, the sentence would probably make no sense to Damien, but to Chava, she knew exactly what she was talking about. It was like she was in an entirely different world. And why? She couldn't die. She couldn't protect Damien or herself, and this was her mind's way of telling her she could. That she already was. "I want you," she states, but the statement was devoid of its usual emotion. The words weren't being put to their usual romantic use, but rather as a plea for blood spill. And with that, she casts a spell, a simple one only meant to send him flying across the room. "YOU CAN'T PRETEND TO BE HIM!"

|| Instinct took over as soon as her wand was pointed at him. He quickly grabbed his dagger, bringing it up in front of him defensively, before moving his feet to the appropriate positioning before waiting for her more. He had no idea what was going on, but if she lashed out at him, he had to defend himself. He wouldn't strike out, himself, but he had bouts of insanity when training, and if he didn't strike out, his mind might register it as training, rather than him trying to survive. He opened his mouth to speak, before she spoke again. Fall for what? Did she or rather her mind, think he was Lucedio? He couldn't be too sure, but either way, it seemed she was getting closer and closer to strike out. He didn't speak, instead just waiting for her first strike. He could talk when he felt it was safe to do so, and not be distracted by trying to dodge her spells. She seemed to be in a bloodlust, not unlike the ones he'd had long ago. As soon as she cast a spell, he brought his dagger up, using the flat of the blade to stop the spell, though the force knocked him back a bit. Quickly rolling to the side, just in case, before righting himself, he took this moment to speak. "I'm not Lucedio." He didn't say anything more, as he needed to make a plan.

|| The fact that he moved to defend himself only pissed her off more, and she wanted to raise all of hell to make sure this man never came near her or her family ever again. What was he even doing here in the first place? How did he get in the Manor? He couldn't have unless one of them had let them in... How could he have broken in, had he become that powerful? Nothing made sense in Chava's mind, and yet everything did at the same time. She wasn't thinking, really, merely acting, letting her mind take her wherever. Which was the first problem. She couldn't fight back against her mind. Her own mind was her greatest enemy, her biggest downfall. "LIAR!" she screams, waving her wand above her head. Objects around the room started to lift up into the air, spinning around and crashing into walls or to the floor, or in Damien's direction. She casts another, much stronger spell in his direction. As if she would believe mere words from his lips. As if that would convince her. Not in her little alternate reality, in her own little dream world. "PROVE IT! FUCKING PROVE IT!" This was where she was certain he would falter. How could he possibly prove it without messing it up for himself? Last time Lucedio tried to trick her into thinking he was Damien, he could barely even touch her. He was too obvious when she looked back. Just like he would be now.

|| As the objects began slamming into walls around him, he swore to himself. He hoped to himself that nothing would break, but he had no means of ensuring that. The only thing he could do at this moment was defend himself. He dodged this way and that, avoiding the various objects, before diving to the side to avoid the spell. Once he had righted himself, he moved closer towards her. He had a plan, and he hoped it worked. Guilt trips and affection typically worked on her, but with her seeing him as Lucedio, he wasn't sure either would work, but he had to try, and he figured he might as well start with the latter. She'd probably assume he spied on 'her and Damien' if he gave information Lucedio wouldn't know. Her shouting at him to prove if set him into motion. He had to shock her out of this state, and he felt affection alone wouldn't quite cut it. So as soon as he stood in front of her, he took the other dagger, that she'd thrown past him earlier, and placed it into her hands, and moved it towards his chest. Carefully, so not to impale himself, he pressed a hand against her cheek, before planting a kiss on her lips. "I love you. That's how you know I'm not Lucedio." He hoped, that if that didn't break her out of her state, that her stabbing him wouldn't cause her to break her vow. He could only hope.

|| At first, she could have laughed. How could he be so stupid? How could he have just willing given her all the power to kill him? Not that she was complaining, it just didn't make sense. Then again, was anything making sense here, to her? She grips the dagger firmly in her palm, as if about to drive it in. "God, you must be really stupid, if you think I -" she freezes, cut off. It took her a moment to realize what exactly had cut her off from speaking, and so shocked was she that the dagger slips from her hand, jumping. What the hell was he doing? Why was he even touching her? Lucedio wouldn't... not even disguised as Damien he wouldn't go out of his way to kiss her to keep up the act. That would be disgusting. Chava would know. But this wasn't a disgusting kiss, it was a familiar one. And slowly but surely, everything was much more familiar. Even Damien's act of pressing the dagger to his chest. That was one of his favorite moves, it seemed. After the kiss she promptly collapses to the floor, eyes glazed over. The world turned black for just a moment, before her vision returned to normal, Damien looking more like Damien. Her heart drops in her chest, sitting on the ground for several moments before she finally finds the words to speak. "Take me to the real Lucedio," she mumbles. Her hands faintly moves to search around for the dagger. She hated herself.

|| It was a tense few seconds that he stood there, before the dagger dropped from her hand. He took a deep breath, thankful that he wasn't stabbed as he thought he would be. So, with his relief, collapsed to the floor seconds after her, preferring to sit down rather than potentially fall over. He hung his head slightly, regretting the medium he chose to shake her out of that state figuring she must feel bad about the whole situation. "Don't worry about that situation, you weren't yourself." He spoke, trying to make her feel better, before raising a brow at her demand. "I can't do that." Before she could argue against him, he spoke again, "I don't know where he is. He's not at his old base that we found anymore."

|| Chava remains staring off in front of her for a while, eyes glazed over. She wasn't even sure what to say. Nothing was good enough, nothing would make up for her little episode. Nothing would erase what she had done. Damien said it was fine, not to worry about it, but she did. He couldn't mean that it was fine, because it wasn't. "Then I'll find him," she nods, finally moving as if to stand up. But her legs were shaky, and it took three tries to stand successfully, taking the dagger in her hand, gripping it tight. She looks pointedly at Damien, where he was on the floor. "I think it's best you stay home so you can make it through alive." It sounded like a suggestion, but really she was more telling him this was what he would do. As far as Chava saw things, she had not only toed the line, but completely stepped across it. She wasn't sane yet. She wasn't normal yet. All that was changed was that she could see the previous error of her ways and now only thought herself as the one to hurt. Her own blood. Lucedio would do the best job. Maybe Aeron would be around too to help. "Go find one of your better wives, Damien."

|| As soon as she spoke, he instantly jumped to his feet before grabbing her arm. "Don't. Please." he positioned himself so he was directly in front of her, locking his eyes on hers. He knew she couldn't leave the basement with the wards in place, but he didn't want her to turn on him again when she found out she couldn't leave. "I want to make sure both of us make it through. This course of action does not lead to that." When she spoke again, he felt like he'd just been slapped, given one of their arguments, soon after they first got together. I can't find my best wife if she's already here insisting on leaving me to go off and fight Lucedio, and possibly die in the process."

|| When he grabs her arm, the first and only thing she felt she could do was to jerk her arm away, taking multiple steps back. Of course he didn't want her to go, but she saw no other alternatives. This was what had to be done. She had done worse than she could have ever believed of herself, and that wasn't something she could forgive herself for. Ever. "Possibly die? No. No, no. Definitely die, Damien. I can't keep doing this to you. It'll just get worse from here, let me go." She keeps walking towards the door, before realising he still had the wards up. She spins around to look at him again, eyes firm. "Damien, let me go. Please," she pleads, crossing her arms over her chest. "I have other ways..." She trails off. Would she have to make him upset enough to let her go? She really didn't want to resort to that. "You got over Pixie," she shrugs. "Get over me."

|| This wasn't right. She was still clearly affected. Lack of sanity and pregnancy didn't seem to go well together, if this was anything to go by. There was a strain of hope in his mind, that maybe he'd be able to get her to see reason, but that was quashed when she spoke. "Definitely die?" He stopped, frozen in tracks, fear replacing hope. Again he reached out gripping her arm frantically. "No! I've lost so many people because of him. I can't lose you too." It was as if his worst fears were playing over in his head. His mind kept seeing the face of every person who died, or was severely harmed because of Lucedio, and now he couldn't help but picture Chava's face among them. "Death is much more severe than someone leaving me."

|| While a large part of her wanted to give into Damien's pleading, she didn't feel as if she could. She didn't feel as if she deserved to go collapsing back into his arms, to go back to bed together and rest. She didn't feel as if she deserved him. All she would be lately is this raging, hormonal, pregnant psychopath who might try to kill him every so often. And he by no means deserved to live with that. No one deserves to live with that. Chava knew she was too much a burden, as much as that hurt her. So, knowing this, she puts a hand on his and gently releases herself from his grasp, taking multiple steps back towards the door. She didn't think she could trust herself around him. She could hurt him again. What could she possibly do to get him to understand? "No, it's better this way. Really. It gives you a better chance. And I don't have to torture myself trying to live and leave you like that other bitch did." Chava shakes her head. "She was fucking stupid. At least I won't leave you like that again." Of course, Chava was talking crazy, and refusing to see the reality of the situation. Like Damien had said, he'd prefer her leaving to her dying. But she couldn't see past herself and her own flaws.

|| He knew he shouldn't let things get to him, knew that she wasn't her right state, but still he found a rage boiling up inside of him at her insults towards his first wife. While he loved Chava, he still had a sort of respect for his first wife. An understanding. He may not know what happened that day, but he still understood why. Not everyone was made for staying in one place forever. "DON'T TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT!" His temper flared, and he snarled out. He was almost glad Chava had pulled away from him, or his grip might have tightened dangerously. "You didn't know her. So don't act like you did."

|| So calling her a bitch made Damien angry. Chava had to admit that an angry Damien really did scare her, but it was apparently still not enough to shake her out of her almost trance of insanity. It would take more than a yell to shock her enough. But for her, the yell already made her wince, take another step back from him. She knew he was angry, but that he wouldn't hurt her. This was the one thing she knew. She could handle this. "You always defend her," she mutters, unable to stop herself from saying more. Maybe if she said enough, Damien would open the wards and let her leave. Dare she try? "There's no use in it. She just fucking up and left you Damien, and she told you she would. She doesn't deserve that kind of defence." Her eyes dart towards the door almost anxiously, and then back at him, looking into his eyes. "Go and find her then, dead or not, and let me go do what I need to do."

|| At this stage, Damien's mind was not quite whole. One part of him wanted to let her go, but try to keep her from death, One wanted to fight harder, and one part wanted to just stab the nearest person. That which belonged to Chava. Not quite ideal. A sigh escaped his lips, as he stared onward trying to figure out some way to get her to stay, but his mind was far too enraged to think properly. "You've never met her. Don't insult her." He took a couple steps closer, glaring, though he tried to make sure not to move beyond that. He didn't want to attack her, after all. His nostrils flared as he glared further, "She helped in ways you don't even know." He turned around, trying to keep himself from acting and not thinking, taking several steps away from her "Besides.The fact that I'm still here after you left me should tell just how much I love and care about you."

|| When he took his few steps closer to her, all she could do was take another step back from him. He wouldn't hurt her, he couldn't, but that didn't stop her from being scared. He had almost hit her before after all. But in all fairness, she had done it just as much. If not more times than he. The way he continued to defend his ex wife that hurt him merely annoyed her, but she wasn't truly upset until his last comment. Not a single fight could go by without someone bringing up how she had once left him. A stupid, stupid mistake of hers... and in bringing it up she just got angry, any plan she might have had thrown out the window in favor of continuing to blow up, maybe even say crueler things. "Maybe you shouldn't, Damien," she just whispers. "Maybe you should learn to let things go sometimes. You haven't had a problem with that before, when it comes to me." She snarls slightly, shaking her head and taking another step back. She needed distance. Space between them, right now. And she still couldn't just run out of the basement, like she wanted to. She didn't know what to do at all with this angry Damien on her hands. "So, Mr. Big-Ministry-Man, maybe you should send me off and turn me in again like you have once before. Like I said, I'm not leaving like she did." Her slight on Damien's first wife was much more subtle this time, but he would get it. It felt like she was playing with knives- but in that moment she didn't care.

|| This was just going to end badly. No matter how they went about it, this was not going to be good. He spun around, glaring back at her. "I haven't had a problem with that? Yeah, you leaving, me suffering in silence and berating myself. Oh and lest we not forget, being brainwashed by Lucedio." He didn't quite hear the latter comment, but by this point he was already simmering in his rage. His hand made it's way towards his dagger, drawing it up. In a moment of anger, though he knew she could dodge it if she wanted, while raising the wards on the basement. “Perhaps you should go." he said as he turned, his composure all but gone. "Maybe that would be better than my wife constantly telling me she'd rather be dead than with me."

|| Maybe, just maybe, she should have expected as much from him. Maybe she really was too naive when it came to him or maybe she should have just thought things through more. The only thing she was really sure of was that he truly hadn't meant to do exactly as he had- else he'd be dying right before her now, because of the vow. He probably meant to throw the dagger towards the wall right behind her, that would have been more practical. Like the time I need training when she just stopped his own dagger from hitting her. There was something she said, then, that she remembers the second after the dagger left his hand and was thrown. Chava had promised him that one more thrown knife in her direction, and she wouldn't move out of its path. So, she didn't. She stood very still, chin raised upwards, as the dagger flew into her shoulder, closer to her chest, and Damisn turned around. Normally, she might have screamed in pain, or in shock, but she saw this one coming. She let it hit her, so she successfully stifled any scream. She stumbles backwards until her back hits the wall, a grunt escaping her, a pained one. Her face screws up and her arms curl around herself, trying to gain control of herself. But the worst part to her wasn't some stab wound that she could heal, it was what he said. It was like a slap to the face to pull her out of some trance she seemed to be in before. "Shit..." she murmurs, taking a deep breath.

|| As soon as he could hear the blade pierce flesh, he winced out instantly regretting the decisions. He turned around slowly, his focus sticking on the blade in her shoulder. He stepped back, his hands clenching slightly. He had hoped that she could dodge, but it seemed as if she didn't succeed, or that she didn't dodge at all. The latter seemed more likely to him. He tried to speak, though he found the guilt hindering him. "I..." He started, before running his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry." He sighed to himself, before backing several feet, to lean against the wall. He brought his hands in front of him. Why wasn't he dead. Why hadn't the vow he'd made kill him yet. He harmed her. He should be dead.

|| Sliding down the wall to sit on the ground, back against the wall, Chava found herself unable to say much of anything. She didn't know what to say. And she had her own wound to deal with, for one. Even though it was probably absolutely terrible for her, she reaches her hand up to grip the hilt of the dagger, before pulling it from her shoulder in one fluid motion. She gasps, but allows it to keep bleeding. One, she didn't have the proper energy for a healing spell, and two, she wouldn't heal herself even if she felt she could. She considered it a kind of punishment, leaving the wound unhealed. Her right shoulder hit, she allows that arm to lie limply by her side while the other hand came up to cover her face, to cover up the visual of the pain she was obviously in. She still didn't know what to say. "Should I still leave?" she manages out.

|| It was getting harder and harder to deal with the more time passed. He sunk into himself as he kept going over and over in his mind what he just did. Silently wishing for him to just die. He should be dead. He sighed out slowly, as he cast his gaze across the room at Chava. He fished around in his robes, pulling out a single potion that he used to use for healing during training. "Here." He tossed the potion to her gently, making sure that it didn't smash. He hoped that she didn't walk out, but he wouldn't blame her now if she did. "If you want to."

|| She felt bad for him. She really did. Especially considering it was /mostly/ her own fault- she didn't move out of the way on purpose. He hadn't meant to hurt her. When he tosses the potion towards her, she grabs it, but immediately pushes it back out of her reach. "No," is all she says on that, shaking her head. She wouldn't heal it, she'd let it bleed. It was the least she could do to herself. It would heal with time she was sure. But for now, it hurt like hell. She brings her free hand up to it as if to stop it from bleeding too much. Chava finally looks up again to look into his eyes, her face trying to remain carefully neutral. "I'm asking if /you/ want me to leave. Answer that." She wanted to hear it from him. After all, physical pain was easier to deal with than emotional pain. "You tell me what you want."

|| Damien pulled himself up from his chair, taking large strides over towards her. He didn't move too close, as he couldn't bring himself to, with his guilt building up. "I'm sorry." he started, though he stopped as she began to speak again. Her question caused him to flinch, wondering if everything would crumble down no matter what he said. "I don't want you to leave." he spoke, hanging his head slightly. He was just hoping this would all just be over with. If she had shouted at him, he could accept that.

|| Chava releases a long sigh. He was very carefully avoiding coming too close to her. She almost wanted to cry, or wince from the pain, but she wouldn't allow herself to if she could help it. She simply watches him, her legs curling under her, one free hand gripping her bloodied shoulder. She was slightly lightheaded, and feeling sick. But that was to be expected. She sighs again. At least he wasn't telling her to go anymore. And at least she wasn't threatening to leave and die anymore. She had hoped before something would change, but this was just proof that nothing really had changed. And right then, neither party was free of guilt. "Then let's please never do that again," she whispers softly, her eyes watering with tears. "Because that all hurt more than this did." She moves her arm as if to emphasise the physical damage, and winces audibly as a result. "Don't blame solely yourself. If it was all your fault you'd be dead right now." For a long while then, she sat in silence, saying absolutely nothing. He could speak if he so wishes, but she remained silent, letting it linger, letting their running minds settle, before she finally holds her free hand out to him as if in question.

|| No matter what was going on, Damien couldn't bring himself to move closer to her. His guilt was pecking away at him bit by bit. In all of his years of life, he'd been afraid of Lucedio harming those he cared about. Never did he think that he'd be the one harming them. Yet still, he couldn't deny that's what he very nearly did. He drops his head into his hands, not wanting to look at her anymore. A long-winded sigh flows through his lips, before he leans back against his chair. "How can I promise anything, when I just threw a dagger at you?" While he couldn't argue her point, that wasn't what he was worried about. Despite the fact that he truly believed it was his own fault, that he shouldn't have let his rage get to such a point, that was only a minor point floating about in his mind. The only real thing he was worried about, was that it could happen again. And that, to Damien, was more frightening than Lucedio or anything else the world could throw at him.

|| A long sigh escapes Chava's lips. She wasn't sure what to do with him, but he looked upset. Or, rather, upset was something of an understatement. Despite her held out hand, he made no move to even touch her. He even started to look away from her again, unable to see her. So she watches him, listening to him, shaking her head slightly. It was, to her, worse than any of the pain in her shoulder. There was a reason she wasn't going to heal it magically. At least, she wouldn't for now. She allows him a few moments to gather himself, before sitting further upwards with a grunt, trying not to hurt herself further. She made her own promise, after all. She scoots over towards Damien, before reaching her hand out again to brush the hair from his eyes. She then lifts his chin with a finger to look at her- or at least attempts to. "Damien, don't act like I haven't almost killed you when I'm freaking out." Sure, she hadn't actually hurt him in doing so, but the implications and consequences could have been a million times worse for wear. "I... I don't like fighting with you. And that one was my fault. I own up to it."

|| Damien flinched as Chava retracted her hand and stood up. For what seemed like forever, he thought she might leave him, and this time he wouldn't even blame her. When she brushed his hair from his face, he flinched, his eyes squeezing together in a wince. For the first time in a long time, his mind seemed almost free, it wasn't clouded with everything he'd suffered through and more. He rose his hand up towards his head, as he looked up towards her. With fear stained in his eyes, he stared directly into Chava's before saying. "I don't want to be like Lucedio." He sighed before pulling Chava into his arms, taking comfort in the fact that she was still there. "Yet I'm afraid I'm already too much like him." He looked up at Chava, before shaking his head slowly. "That's why I won't blame you if you leave now. Whether or not the vow accepts it, I broke my promise to you."

|| At first, with his flinching and his wince, she was scared he wouldn't accept her touch at all. And that upset her, shaking her slightly. It felt like forever before he looked up at her again, finally looking into her eyes. Yet still, there was some tension. "You're not like Lucedio," she insists, shaking her head. "Lucedio is horrible, and terrible. You didn't... mean to. I know you didn't. Because I know you. Even if the vow wasn't in place." A sigh of relief escapes her when he pulls her closer, but it's immediately followed with a small gasp, tensing up slightly. She wasn't healed whatsoever, so blood still flowed freely from her shoulder where she was hit. But she only considered that reason to be a little more careful. She positions herself so it wouldn't hurt her too badly, before leaning against Damien, closing her eyes. "I promise you you're not like him. I couldn't love him, but I do you." His last words just caused her to sigh again. He still worried she would leave him, after this. The thought just made her sad. Yet she had previously worried that he would leave her instead. As if in answer, she holds up the hand with the ring on it. "I assume you know what this means, as you gave it to me." She purses her lips. "It means forever. And that I'm not leaving you. And I already forgive you. It was my fault too. Like I said, I own up to it."

|| Despite her remark, he couldn't keep himself from thinking otherwise. He could probably point out how he was already like Lucedio because of their fondness for torture, yet he didn't think they would get anywhere if he kept arguing her points. And as much as he wanted to lay his fears bare, he also wanted this moment to be over. His eyes shifted towards their normal state, before cracking a slight smile. "And I love you." He ran his finger gently over her wound, before wincing slightly. "Do you want a potion for this?" The guilt clouded back up in his mind, and what was once clear, now returned to darkness. "Marriages aren't always forever. I should know." He tilted his head, before helping Chava to her feet, getting up afterwards. "But I'm glad you're staying." He took several steps towards his forge, pressing his hands against the ledge, staring into the coals within. "But if I harm you again, if I don't die, I will hunt down Lucedio down until one of us dies. And if I win, I won't return. Your safety is foremost in my mind." He turned around, staring at Chava, determination sparking in his eyes. "And if I feel you won't be safe by my side, I will make sure you will be."

|| The moment didn't last long. She almost wished it had. It was better than a distant Damien, trapped in his own mind, stubborn in his thoughts and plans. She only winces slightly as his finger runs over the stab wound, and she shakes her head at his question. "No, no. I won't heal this magically." She was almost afraid to tell him why, but she felt she had to. She couldn't stop herself. "It's my punishment for myself." And she saw the look in his eyes clearly, when he switched back, helping her stand and turning away from her. She closes her eyes briefly. Ouch. "Your other marriages didn't last forever. But I think we've already pushed several limits and we're still standing here together. Have more faith, love." The small smile that she gave him then only lasted a short time... as he started talking again. He would leave her, if he ended up hurting her again? How could he say something even remotely like that? Her entire face falls, sinking away from him and hunching over. "Oh. Well then I should take back what I just said." She purses her lips, her eyes flicking down to the floor. If he was just going to hurt her more than ever before because he physically hurt her a little bit... She hated even the thought.

|| Damien could safely say that he didn't understand what was going on in Chava's mind. Not letting something heal as a punishment for this whole argument? To Damien it seemed like insanity. He could understand letting things scar as a lesson or whatnot, but as a punishment? "You should still heal it. I think we're punishing ourselves enough." He knew that there was no way they would ever stop punishing themselves, whether it's through blame, regret, or whatever else came into their minds. Yet still, he hoped that maybe Chava would accept a healing potion. "And how many more lines will we cross in our marriage?" He sighed deeply, before turning around to face her. "I don't want to live with the thought of harming you. My regret is already killing me." His face falls as she speaks again. How could she have so much faith in their marriage when it was practically built on suffering. Every single thing that happened was just another nail in the coffin. "How can I have faith when all the horrible possibilities is eating at me?" As soon as he spoke, he winced again in regret. It probably didn't sound that great to Chava, especially after his comment about leaving. "As my vow shows, I would rather die than harm you. I don't deserve you, and you deserve much better than me."

|| What did she have to do to snap him out of this again? She certainly wasn't about to have another argument, even though Chava was a woman very prone to fighting back. She reaches forward to grip his arm once more, no longer shrinking away from him. She knew it was unrealistic for either of them to say they would never hurt the other, even unintentionally. So she wasn't about to spend her future scared Damien would leave her if and when it happens again. "This was not your fault," she insists firmly. "I didn't move away on purpose when I very easily could have dodged or used magic to keep it away, like last time. I. Did not. Move." She shakes her head, sighing. "I hurt myself. You didn't hurt me. But you know how you can hurt me?" She arches a brow, taking a step away again. A small, terrible idea was formulating. "Leave me. Leave me under any circumstances. Nothing will ever destroy me more, except for your death." Her hand slips up to the wound, before pressing her fingers against it, eliciting a gasp from her lips. "My fault, my punishment, my pain, for almost /killing/ you." She presses deeper, and it hurts more, her knees almost buckling beneath her. Still, she presses on. "But we can't keep doing this to ourselves. It's going to happen again. It will. I'm threatening leaving you for it. So if you're going to leave me if you hurt me again, you might as well leave now to save me the trouble... leave me to my own pain and punishment."

|| At this point, Damien was ready to say just about anything just to stop this conversation. He just wanted to go up to the bedroom and crash. Only the cold death-like state of sleep could stop the way his mind was destroying itself with everything that ever happened or could happen. He reached into the forge, his hand clasping around one of the pieces of coal. He brought it up in front of him, likening himself to the item in his hand. Just like the coal, he burned brightly for a short time before dying out entirely. And with enough pressure... He squeezed the coal tightly crushing it within his hand... he could fall apart easily. "I'm sorry." He spoke softly before turning around once more, pressing his other hand against her cheek. "I wish it wasn't like this. I wish that we could live without this suffering." Before Chava could stop him about wishing for things that could never come true, or something like that, he pressed on, "Yet all the same... I don't know about you, but my suffering makes me who I am." It was unfair, yet Damien had already accepted that, "And thus I've learned to grasp onto every bit of light that comes into my life." He reaches out, grabbing out at the hand that was over her wound, "So that's what I'm going to do." He walked over to the dagger that lay on the floor, picking it up and returning to Chava. He had to do this quick, lest she try to stop him. He was deadset in this course of action, and he knew that she wouldn't approve. He had no doubt she'd yell at him for it. He placed the blade in her hands, bringing the tip up to his shoulder. Without giving her time to drop it, he leaned forward, allowing the blade to drive into his shoulder. "When you suffer, I suffer." he pulled himself back off of the blade, before bringing two fingers over to the wound caused by the motion. With fingers coated in blood, he moved over towards the wall closest to the door. He raised his fingers towards the wall, painting a dagger symbol on the wall, explaining exactly what he was doing. "A constant reminder of this moment. I want to make sure I never harm you ever again. Reminding myself of this will make sure of that." With that, he turned to face Chava, waiting for the screaming to start.

|| For a while, all Chava could focus on was bringing more pain to herself, driving her fingers into the wound, tearing at the flesh, letting the blood drip. And she had no idea what he was doing. Everything was a new surprise to her, and he seemed to be so up and down she couldn't keep track. And yet she still wasn't suspicious when he went to grab the dagger. Here she was thinking it was just to keep her from hurting herself further or something similar. And that was her mistake. That was where she went wrong. Even when he presses the dagger into her hands, the idea didn't get through to her. She wasn't sure why it didn't. He had done this with her multiple times before, even just earlier that day he had. She blinks, and just when she realises the plan he had in mind... the deed was done. The dagger in his shoulder like it had been hers. Her blood on the dagger mixing with his new, fresher blood. And she didn't scream. She didn't make a sound. She stood there in shock. Yes, he's the one that did it. She knew this. How could she not know this? But at the same time, how was she stupid enough not to stop him, not to realize what was going on before he got hurt? Her hands drop to her side. She was getting dizzy. Lighthearted, and dizzy. What with the terrible combination of pregnancy sickness, shock, and now plenty of blood loss, she wasn't sure she could even stand on her own two feet. And right as the thought entered her mind, she crumbles to the floor in a second. First down to her knees, and then in a mess lying on the floor, sprawled out and feeling sick. He had done it but she had allowed it. She held the dagger when it pierced his skin, and that was already reason enough for her to hate herself. It gave her some understanding of how Damien had felt, when the dagger hit her- even though she had much less to do with this than he had in her instance. Her eyes remain open, purposefully not closed, and unblinking, as if she were dead. This would never end, would it?

|| For a long time, Damien sat there waiting for Chava to yell at him. For her to slap him, yet nothing came. This worried more than anything else possibly could. He hoped she wasn't blaming herself as she had no control over what he did. He never gave her time to stop him, and he made sure of that. He tore off several strips of cloth from his robes, moving over towards Chava. While she wasn't yelling at him or hitting, he figured he might as well bandage up her wound. She'd bled out enough. He patched her up as quickly as he could, hoping she wouldn't take any action against him, before attempting to bandage himself. "Don't blame yourself for this. I wouldn't have let you stop me." He sat down in front of her, giving off a sad smile. "But it's all over now." He reached out placing a hand on her good shoulder, trying to look into her eyes. "No more pain today. I think we should get some rest. We'll need it to heal."

|| Chava couldn't bring herself to move. Everything hurt, even after his gentle touch in wrapping the wound. She almost wanted to fight him, to allow herself to bleed out more, but she had made her own promise to him, after all. She had to keep most of her blood. At least it wasn't healing magically. "You shouldn't have done that," she manages to say, not above a raspy whisper. She wanted him to see it as unnecessary like she did, she wanted him to be perfectly fine, and not bleeding, and not hurt. She didn't /want/ rest. She didn't want to heal. She wanted it all to be over. "I don't want to live like this anymore," she whimpers, almost like a child. She inches away from his touch, then. It was a touch that made her feel better, and feeling better led to healing which led to no more bleeding which led to living, and all living was, was suffering without a way out. It's what her entire life was. At least, in death, once you were dead it didn't hurt anymore. She couldn't feel regret for leaving Damien here alone if she was dead, right? Overall, she just wanted the pain gone. She wished the options were death, or a pain-free, happy life, with no Lucedio and no Aeron and no Azkaban and no criminal records. Where she didn't have to kill anyone and nobody tried to kill her. "It might be over now. Maybe. But it won't be tomorrow. Or the next day. Or even years from now. It won't be over for our kid, for me, for you." She still inches away. "How can we fix this for us? To make it even a little more bearable?"

|| Damien ignored her comment. He probably shouldn't have done what he did, but that was in the past now, and as far as he was concerned, he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. If one was going to suffer, the other would suffer as well mentally. He just made this suffering physical. It was something easier to deal with. Physical pain was more tolerable than mental anguish. "Neither do I. But I can't die yet. Not without making sure everyone is safe." He felt like he was repeating himself, but he would do /anything/ if it meant Chava and their children would be safe. Even if that anything entailed his own death. "I want to apologize for bringing you into this mess that is my life, but I can't apologize when you mean so much to me." He took a deep breath as she spoke again, before shaking his head. "Truth be told, I'm not sure we can. We're already so set in our misery, that I doubt anything can change that." Before she lost all hope, he raised a finger, before tapping it against his chin, "However we can make things at least a small bit better. If not for us, but our unborn child, and our daughters." It was a way of showing just how deep in he was, by calling both Aveline and Clover both of theirs. "We have to kill Lucedio."

|| And as it seemed, killing Lucedio had to be the greatest option. He was right. He couldn't die. And Chava knew deep down she couldn't die, not yet. All that would do is make things worse for their entire family. Her husband and her kids needed her, and she had to be there for them. She couldn't be so selfish. And she almost got herself excited, imagining a world where there was no Lucedio to worry about. Just their family in the Dagger Manor, not having to run from anyone or anything- except maybe the law. They could be so happy. They could have that happy ending, and for the first time, Chava allowed herself to picture that scene. She allowed herself to think beyond her current predicament to a time of happiness. One day. One day she would make sure it would happen. "We'll do everything we can to kill him and keep the both of us alive," she whispers, before inching forward again to rest her head in his lap. "We can be happy..."