A river flows, long and might, fast and powerful... majestic in all its ways, with water that's as cold as ice to the touch.

The black clad figure, who was just average height with his boots on, sat all too close to the water's edge, on one of the sides of the river, sat on his heels, rocking back and forth and back and forth very slowly on them.

He was very uneasy, very sick to his stomach, and only slightly drunk.

Drunk? Stop thinking about it... stop thinking about it... damn it, I'm thinking about it... stop thinking about it, you idiot! he scolded himself, staring into the water with a very awful, sad expression on his beautiful, too-pale baby face.

The man's face was hidden by his black hood, and by his wine red hair, that fell into his silver eyes... which, oddly, were not marred by his glasses.

Stop thinking about him, Rasmus... stop it. But Rasmus couldn't help it. Couldn't help thinking about that damn demon... and about his friends...

Which really explains why he was out here, if you cared to piece things together.

It was later out at night when Rasmus was used to being out, he and a couple friends had decided to go drinking... and Rasmus didn't have anyone to drive him home. His friends were more drunk than him, of course, and he declined their offers to have them drive him home.

But he let them drive off, by themselves. And now they were dead. Their guts were splattered everywhere.

Rasmus, of course, fled to the nearest secluded area... and away from the awful sound of those sirens.

And he'd been there since only God knows how long. Maybe a couple of days...

And that explains what he's been doing the past few days. Only rocking back and forth on his heels keeps him from sobbing, or getting violently sick.

...and he could still hear those sirens, wailing the same sad sound, over and over again, in his head...

The river flows in front of her, magic mingling and crisscrossing currants. A dance of blue twisting over blue until they merged and seemed to become one. And then, a portion of the water lifted up, connected by the same ethereal blue that was once a part of it and, in the most practical sense, still a part of it.

The only reason that Ms. Victoria Fitzgerald was out at all was to practice her magic. The most difficult sort is organic, of course, having to get all those compounds into working, living cells. It's easier to have a template to work with. Which is why she was in the woods by the river, getting practice where prying eyes couldn't see.

She also liked hiking. It's a nice past time, gets you outdoors and your mind off of things, leaving nothing to concentrate on but where your foot should fall and the sound of your breathing.

Tori walked further up the bank, stopping here and there to copy other things to add to her repitoire. Just up the ways, however, if she moved out of the way of the tree, she could just make out another person in the secluded location.

Who could it be?

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

But that face...it was him!

Rasmus didn't like hiking. In fact, he hated it. He wasn't one for outdoors, especially when he was hiking alone... when anyone could come out of nowhere and murder him, or snatch him by the wrist and rape him... but that was silly... wasn't it?

But it wasn't just paranoia. People had taken advantage of his innocence twice, before... and his brothers had hurt him, anyway. Thus his 'trust nobody' attitude towards the world.

He was practically shocked out of the numb, sickened state he was in when he heard a voice. A voice, in a secluded area. That wasn't on the lists of good things, in Rasmus' book. In fact, that was a very, very bad thing. And it frightened him.

"No, I'm not." His voice was shaky, and so quiet and tiny that it was hard to hear.

She hadn't heard him at all, in fact, only saw his lips move. But that in no way hindered her process as she ran over to him.

Was this where he's been all this time? In the woods, hunched up like this?

"Rasmus!" She was worried about him, no doubt, and when she reached him it only escalated. He looked like he hadn't eaten for a long while. He didn't even eat when they'd first met, come to think of it.

She dropped to the ground a few feet away from him, inertia bringing her to his side and staining her jeans with grass. Her light hair had come a little loose from her giant braid and her face was flush from the brisk spring air.

"Rasmus, what's happened to you?"

He didn't recognize the voice, actually. Didn't take to memory who it belonged to, since he hadn't seen her in... a few days, was it? But... she knew his name? It was all so very confusing to him... so very, very, confusing.

He kept rocking... back and forth and back and forth on his heels still, without notice that he was doing anything, for even when he was completely still, the world moved...

The figured that dropped beside him didn't register in his mind as Victoria yet... not yet... it took a few moments.

"I... I..." he couldn't come up with the words... couldn't find them... He stuttered, to keep from crying.

She was at a complete loss. She had no idea why he was here, what could have turned him from the sweet and happy guy she'd met before into a sniffling bundle of person.

He looked so very sad and lost and in the need of a big hug. Never one to be shy unless she was thinking about it, Tori put her arms around him. She didn't think that he might not remember her, didn't think that he might be afraid. That was why she was doing it, after all, to keep him from being frightened.

It took him a second to react to the hug. He didn't realize what was happening, or who this person was, until he'd thought on it a few very long moments. He bit his lip to keep from crying, or thinking about it. "Tori..." that was all she was going to get for now. He'd give a better explanation later.

Should he be embarrased that he, a grown man, is crying? If he should, he's not. Despite his best efforts, those damned tears came.

No explanation was needed other than the tears that fell down his face. She could get the facts later, they didn't matter until he could form sentences. But that also didn't matter at the moment. All that did matter was that he needed her; so she held onto him with all of her might. Did it convey that she'd do what she could to be there? Did it tell him that she would hold him as long as it took for him to not be so distraught?

And she did hold him, she planned to until he stopped crying and pulled away. Tori rocked back and forth with his motions, somehow making it seems a little more soothing with soft reassurances her father might have whispered to her once. She would do anything she could to help get the pain to subside.

What it told him, was that she wanted him to be better. What it told him, was that she was there to comfort him, if he needed to cry. And he did need to cry, right now. He just needed a good friend, to just... well, cry on. It seemed he was always running out of friends, like he had recently.

It was a long while before he managed to say, or do anything but rocks on his heels and cry. "Tori, they're all dead..." His voice was a very weak whisper.. and so very shaky. "All of them are gone..." Maybe his sentences weren't coherent, but at least they were sentences at all.

She had no idea what it was like, there was no way that she could truthfully say that she knows how it feels. She couldn't tell him that the pain would go away because she wasn't certain it would. For some reason, Tori had always been a rather resilient person, always bouncing back when something got her down. She hated it, because she never knew how to comfort, how to relate.

So she did what she could. She held him closer, rubbed his back once or twice and shut her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

She didn't like seeing him cry, didn't enjoy seeing him in so much pain at all. Because he shouldn't have to cry. No one should have to cry.

Rasmus, often times, was like a small child, however. You didn't need to know much about him to know how to comfort him... to try and ease the pain. But behind his mask of smiles, grins, and light-hearted behavior, he hurt. And he had a right to hurt, with his friends gone... All of them, snatched away from him...

but why was she sorry? Sorry that he hurt? That must've been it...

"it's... it's not your fault." He murmured. "It's mine." And this wasn't just unwonted guilt. This time it had been his fault. He'd let them drive away, by themselves. He'd known how drunk they had been. It was all his fault for letting this happen...

and it was all his fault for leaving Tori with a crying mess of a man.

"That doesn't mean that I'm any less sorry," her voice kept low. Another means of protection. Against what, she couldn't really say. Maybe protection from his memories and guilt, perhaps from whatever reason that was still plaguing him.

She didn't want to seem invasive, but the boy had been out here for who knows how long, isolated and grieving. If he didn't get it off his chest or even a little reassurance in return he'd stay like this; sad and alone.

"What happened?" in a voice that was waiting to draw out the answer like poison from a wound.

"I...uhm...ah..." Damn, he couldn't say anything right anymore. He made an attempt to stop crying. This was so... pathetic. What if Verkur saw him crying? He was so vulnerable... so very vulnerable, and it needed to stop. This needed to stop.

"I... let them... let them drive alone. An'... I... I knew better. They... weren't safe."

(Brawr. Sorry the post is bad this time.)

It was ok to cry. Not crying was just as easily done as stoping your body from functioning. When it needed to cry, it needed to cry. You could hold it in as much as you like, but it was comine out sooner or later. And after all, it was better done then and there and in the company of someone who cared enough to defend his right to tears.

She held him gently, her breathing slow and even.

"But who's to say that you wouldn't have died with them if you changed your mind? You are alive, Rasmus. Doesn't that count for something?"

It wasn't okay to cry for Rasmus. It wasn't okay to cry in front of Tori. It wasn't okay to cry... for the ones he'd lost, no matter how painful it was. It wasn't okay to cry, because it was a weakness. It wasn't okay to cry, because it made him vulnerable. It wasn't okay to cry...

"I...I... don't wanna." And that's the closest he'll get to ever admitting that he didn't want to live... that he'd almost shot himself.

"An' I'm sorry..."

But why? Why would he want to die? What could possibly incite such a reaction in him? Suicide was just an action that Tori didn't understand, having faced barely any hardships in her life.

It made her worry and it made her clutch him a little tighter than before, possibly trying to keep him in the world of the living. Maybe if she held him close enough he wouldn't go.

Her mind didn't really care what he was sorry about, it was still stuck on his half-hearted answer from before.

"What do you mean, you don't want to? What about your mother? What about--" she stopped before she could finish the thought. What about us? There was no 'us.' But she still wanted to find out if there could be.

Why? That was impossible to tell. But, he had wanted to die before this whole mess had began, and this only made it worse. So, so much worse. As if Verkur hadn't been enough, and he was finally thinking something good was coming in his life, what with Tori here... and now it was only worse.

And now... he wanted to die, even if it was a selfish thing.

"She... doesn'.. care."

Rasmus had finally come to that realization, and it wasn't just the fact that she supposedly "trusted" him. Who would leave their child, without calling, for four days, when they were usually home all the time?

Certainly not a normal mother. And besides, Tori probably already knew that.

When she spoke her voice sounded sore, like she wanted to cry, longed to cry for him, but the tears wouldn't come. It was like he was trying to find an excuse to die and she'd be damned if she let him.

"Damn it, Rasmus, you can't just up and leave like that! You can't just come out here to die, you just can't do that!"

Why not? What would stop him? She didn't know, but he couldn't, he just couldn't...

He sobbed, but tried to quiet himself, and sniffled. He laid his head on her shoulder, trying to recollect his thoughts... trying to figure out what to do with himslef now.

...Rasmus? Velvilje... not, Rasmus. Only Rasmus to Tori now... and perhaps his mother. But no... he was dead to her now. She didn't care.

"...why?... why can't I? Who would care?" Besides Verkur, because one of his toys would go missing.

"I'd care. You know I'd care, don't you?" She had to agree about his mother. If she were her, she'd have gone mad with worry after the first night. But that was horrible, how could a mother not care?

It was true that they'd only met once before, but some people just click and they seem to have known each other forever. It didn't really matter, she didn't want to hear him talking like this regardless of how long they'd known each other.

"N-no..." And he kept sniffling, hs talking quite muffled by tears... "only... only that... dead thing." Dead thing? How was she to know that he was owned by a demon, who was dead the day he was born? How was she to know about Verkur in general, even? He'd never told her about him... never told him he belonged to him...

"I... I... donno.."

Well she would. She would care if he died. Tori shouldn't have been hurt or suprised that Rasmus wasn't aware of that, but she was, if only a little.

"What dead thing? I don't know either, Rasmus, how am I supposed to know if you don't tell me?" Her voice softened, "Please tell me."

"I...if it makes you feel better... I wouldn't." Not because she had asked him not to kill himself, and said that she'd care, but because of Verkur. Because of waht he said he'd do if he tried to kill himself again.

"I...ii...it...he..." sob.. "Velvilje... I.. mm.. mm-uh. Velvilje. My n-n.. my name... he says... H-h..h...he.. his Velvilje."

Victoria really didn't know the significance of the name. In fact, she'd never had that much experience with demons or any sort of undead, for that matter. They were the sorts of things you heard about, but never really experienced.

"Your name is Rasmus," all she knew was that it was important, "and it always will be, ok? It's Rasmus.."

"I know... I know..." He whispered, trying to queit his sobs, now. "But... h...h--he d-.. he d-d-does... doesn't like m..y name," he swallowed, and paused to breath, sniffling, just like a little child..

"And he h-h-hates me."

She wanted to do something to comfort him, calm his tears and settle his heart. So she rubbed his shoulders and back in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

"I..I like you. And I think your name's really unique and..nice.." He needed to know that this demon wasn't the only thing in his life. It wasn't the only person who noticed his existance. But Tori didn't have the greatest confidence that she could show him that.

Because the rest of his friends were dead and his mother didn't seem to give a flip, it really seemed that she and the demon of chaos were the only people who acknowledged him.

"Uh... uh huh." He sniffled again, cuddling (or at least trying to) his shaking, much too thin figure against Tori's.

"Tori.." his voice was a quiet whine now, a mix between a mumble and a whimper, almost... and he'd manage to quiet his sobs for now. For now... "you won't let him take me, will you?"

Her grip on him tightened. At the moment, nothing, not hell nor fury nor a demon with issues was going to take him from her. Nothing.

"No. I won't," if she had more time to think about it, more time to realize that her gut feeling wasn't the most realistic, she'd have said she'd do everything she could to save him. Instead, she said what was in her heart. Hopefully, Rasmus wouldn't pin all of his hopes on a promise that most likely couldn't be kept. Not against something like Verkur. But did that mean she wouldn't try? Oh no, she'd try.

But the air around them grew darker. The setting of the sun was aided by the shade of the trees and they would need to leave soon. Victoria would, and she certainly wouldn't leave Rasmus behind. For now, though, she didn't have the heart to move him, but remembered that he hated darkness. So she made another candle.

Darkness? He still hated darkness, even after spending at least three days in it, alone, and sick. He was still afraid, he was going to be snatched up, and raped, or beaten, or something like that... and was slightly comforted when she made another candle.

"I know you can't... but just try, please..." He sounded desperate, almost.

They were both so wrapped around each other that it was difficult to see exactly who was holding whom. By now, her head was buried snugly into his shoulder and his likewise.

"I promise," and she did, "that I will do everything I can to protect you from him."

"Ah..m.. okay.." And Rasmus believed her. She better keep her promise, or Rasmus might not try to trust anymore. Not her, anyway. Trust was easily broken with Rasmus, and it was very hard to get back.