The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon showing the vastness of the ocean before her hazel eyes. It was quite early in the morning since the sun was just being to rise to start yet another long and agonizing day. Had it really been a year since everything had turned upside down and gone straight to hell? Ten months of solitude, the only company the creatures that lived in the forest that surrounded her cabin and garden. Most people would go mad without the comfort of sharing a conversation with another person. But she was not like other people and the trauma from her last socialization with humans had been awful. No. She had decided that being alone and away from any sort of danger was much better.

As the sun slowly began to creep upwards into the sky, on a deserted strand of the beach where it was beginning to start into the forest around the city, the outline of Callie’s face was beginning to come into light. Her hair had grown past her shoulders a long time ago. Yet she had cut it to be only a few inches below it again. One wouldn’t think so with how jagged the edges of the strands of blonde hair were, but that’s what happens when you cut your own hair with scissors. She wore a long pair of jeans that were starting to become ragged at the bottom and holes in the knees from wearing them quite often. A baggy white sweatshirt was put on over a plain black t-shirt to cover more skin. The only reason the girl had a slight tan was from working out in the garden day in and day out in the warm rays of the sun. Her feet were bare for she hated the feeling of shoes in sand. Her legs were brought up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them as she rested her chin on the tops of her knees. On each hand, a round scar in the middle of her palm and back of hand could be seen, an everlasting remind of the hell she endured a year ago. Scars still remained on her chest as well from the ordeal as well as leg for without Cecily’s help her wounds did not heal all the way; a hospital could only do so much.

Speaking of the hospital, after she had felt better and worked up enough courage she up and left the building without being noticed. She couldn’t have paid for the bill even if she wanted to and she just wanted to get back to a familiar environment. So she had gone back to the cabin and into hiding, curling up in her bed and not coming out. She had told Cecily she couldn’t stay in that house anymore, well, she told through a note anyway and then left back to the cabin. It had felt awkward at first with her mother no there. But after several weeks of hiding in her room, she began to do a few constructive things, like working with the garden once again and cleaning up the place. When going through the cabinets she had found the bottles that held whatever it was she had been making her drink over the past century. At first she thought about taking it again for the pain never hurt as bad when she was on it. And yet, something told her she shouldn’t and thus threw the bottle away in the trash.

Many days were spent just sitting on the beach as she was now after she felt more confidant about being further away from the cabin. The beach always soothed her and especially when the sun was rising. The pain in her heart would never be healed and the ordeals she had suffered would never leave her mind, always haunting her nightmares. She could never escape his face. She had the same nightmare every night of the day that everything seemed to collapse. In fact, Callie never even knew if Cecily was alright and was afraid to even attempt to go back and find out. No. She steered clear of the city, growing her own foods and getting water from the stream that ran behind the cabin. She had everything that she needed to keep existing, but every day seemed to draw on longer and longer. A year had seemed like an eternity and she just wished the suffering would end. She buried her head in the middle of her arms, her sweatshirt covering her face shrouding her in darkness. A gentle breeze blew gently, blowing her hair softly. Why couldn’t everything go back to the way it was before they moved? Everything had been good then. If only…

Sometimes, everything could get so lonely for no particular reason at all. Sometimes, people could get in the way of the world's beauty. Sometimes, there was no other way to be than to be alone. Sometimes you just have to accept that and move on.

His feet tenderly touched the sand, leaving footprints in a trail as he walked. Walking didn't require effort, thinking, or emotion, and was therefore good. Walking didn't break promises or hurt him. The beach didn't seem to care he was there. Lately, he'd been taking walks down here early in the morning, solely because it brought him peace of mind and the air was clear, causing, in turn, his own clear-mindedness. He needed nature to live.

His hair was swept up into a ponytail, the shorter wine red strands that weren't able to fit brushing his cheekbones. The gentle rays of sun set a faint glare to his silver-rimmed glasses resting on his pale, freckled nose.

He hadn't settled for much, knowing that it would just be another of his walks. Just a forest-green t-shirt with long, white sleeves and black jeans that were just a hair to big for him. Of course, they were pulled up so that his calves and small, pale feet were revealed, because he wasn't very fond of the thought of his pants collecting sand.

He wasn't paying attention, his silver eyes trained aimlessly downward at the ground. The lapping of the waves erased any of the unpleasant thoughts he might've had, the cool breeze calming and peaceful instead of chilly.

The cry of birds above seemed to soothe him, and every once in a while he would look up at the sky, watching the gulls. Perhaps by mere chance he happened to look up and saw someone on the beach, that he stopped. He stared curiously for a moment, and then continued, any sound his footsteps might've made muffled by sand and consumed by the sounds of the waves.

He approached wordlessly, gently, and stopped again.

He'd wanted to say something and had opened his mouth to do so, but no words came. He didn't want to startle her, though...

Three feet away. Had she seen him approach?

She, in fact, had not seen him approach. Her head was buried in her sweatshirt and eyes concealed in darkness rather than letting the sun look at the sadness that was always present in them. They always had that hurt look to them and would never go away. She had only heard that someone might be present when he was quite close to her, the waves doing a pretty good job of concealing any other sort of noise such as the soft sounds of feet in the sand. But when she did finally hear them she seemed almost frozen and unable to attempt to look up, afraid of what might greet her eyesight. Hands clinched her jean pants and she inhaled deeply.

Finally gaining enough courage to look up, her head finally moved away from the comfort of her sweatshirt and to the left of her, hazel eyes were greeted with a man standing only a mere three feet from her. Great. Nobody had ever been down this part of the beach before and especially not this early in the morning. Basically being in shock of this sudden development was the only reason she hadn’t freaked out and ran away already. But even if she did he could follow her. Her small cabin wasn’t that far away from here being about just a half mile.

Instead of running her arms seemed to tighten around her legs only further, making her knees touch her chest. She knew it wasn’t the one that haunted her nightmares that stood before her, but that didn’t make her any less tense. Her faith in people had been shattered, unknowing who would be nice and who would torture her like that last boy did.

”Who…who are you?” Her voice shaky, showing that she was quite spooked by his sudden appearance and how he came so close to her without even knowing it. Eyes were wide and she seemed to look around wondering if anyone else was there and what she was going to do if this man was like the boy she had encountered. However, she couldn’t possibly imagine anyone being worse than him, but she’d been wrong before.

Well... he had been afraid of spooking her. And now, here she was, slightly reminiscint of a deer in the headlights. Startled. Just what he hadn't wanted. He approached no further.

"It's okay... didn't mean to frighten you," his voice was soft, gentle, with a hint of Swedish accent.

"My name's Rasmus... I won't hurt you, I promise," he offered, standing his ground to prove his point.

She jumped slightly when he spoke back, but relaxed, if only slightly, when she heard his voice. It was soothing, but that had proven wrong before as well to mean anything. He said his name was Rasmus and that he wouldn’t hurt her. Could she really believe that? Hands moved way from being wrapped around her knees and she hid them in the front pocket on her sweatshirt.

”How can I believe you? I don’t know you.” Promises could be broken, she knew that. It all depended on the person and right now she knew nothing about him and thus the promise meant little to her. The only people she had ever trusted were Charlie, Erik and Cecily and none of them were in her life anymore. Erik was dead and Charlie wouldn’t talk to her and Cecily, she didn’t know what happened to Cecily at all. Lucifer was one she was almost starting to trust and yet, she had only met him twice, once with Erik and once in the hospital after everything went to hell.

Callie wasn’t so inclined to give her name up willingly anymore and thus didn’t return to the introduction of his name with her own. Instead her gaze turned from him and looked out across the ocean and watched as the sun was now higher in the sky that a few moments ago.

He dropped down to a crouching position, a lightly puzzled expression settling over his soft features. He really didn't know how to answer her question.

"I guess you can't really believe me, can you? Humans' trustworthiness is... infallible."

Still, he hadn't moved.

"I still really didn't mean... to frighten you."

He frowned.

"Are you all right out here, was... all I was wondering."

Her attention went back to him as he moved, making sure he didn’t get any closer or tried anything while she wasn’t looking. Of course he was close enough that if he did try anything she didn’t have much of a chance to run. But as he got closer to her eye level and looked at his face she didn’t really know what to think anymore. His face seemed sincere, but once again something nagged in the back of her mind not to trust anyone so willingly anymore, especially men.

”Yes.” Humans didn’t give trust easily or at all now days. She knew that now and she’d paid dearly for it to.

She didn’t know what to say in his response of not meaning to frighten her. So she remained quiet and her eyes went back to the tide rolling in and out slowly going out after the high tide of late night.

”I’m fine.” Which was a huge lie. But he didn’t know that now did he? Normally she wasn’t up for lying, but lately she didn’t care anymore. However, she wouldn’t deny that something deep down was glad to have a conversation with someone once again, even if it was awkward.

”What are you doing out here?”

Rasmus wasn't someone willing to nudge further into something, even if instinct told him it was a lie. This time, he believed her... because without trust, there was no sanity.

He nodded gently.

"The beach helps keep me sane," he admitted in that same quiet, sort of coaxing voice he'd used before.

"What about you?"

”The beach is the only place I feel comfortable.” Even her cabin felt unwelcoming at times, as if her mom was always looming about and keeping an eye on her expecting her to do something wrong. It was an awful feeling and so she came to the beach. Her mother had never come to the beach with her. So it was a place where she felt the safest and in the morning hours when nobody was around.

”I love listening to the waves rolling in and out. Feels like home.” Her voice was full of longing. She just wanted to go back home, not in the woods but where she was born. It had been heavenly and now seemed like ages ago.

He nodded towards her again, and pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. He was intently listening.

"It's peaceful, isn't it..." he mused, quietly.

He dug his toes in the sand, watching her. He let himself fall gently on his bottom.

"Where were you born?"

She only nodded about the how peaceful the beach was.

As he moved again she turned to look to keep an eye on what he was doing.

”Crete. It’s an island off of Italy.” But she wasn’t sure if that was still the name of the island or not. Many names of places had changed over the centuries.

”Where were you born? You don’t sound like everyone around here.” But then again the city was a mixing pot for different cultures so she didn’t really know exactly what the actual accent was for the area.

"Italy, huh... I've heard it's supposed to be beautiful there," he mused.

He drew his knees to his chest.

"America. But my dad was Swedish, so... have a bit of an accent. I guess you could tell...?"

Small grin.

”It was beautiful.” She amazingly broke a smile with the images of the island coming back into her head.

”The water was so clear you could see the fish swimming around your legs. And it was so blue to. There wasn’t any trash on the shore either like this beach.” At least the beaches closer to the city. They were littered with trash there and she hated it. A while back, when everything wasn’t messed up, she’d come out here in the morning and clean up what she could.

She nodded. Indeed she could tell. Callie had never been to Sweden though, but she heard that had beautiful snow covered mountains. However the cold wasn’t exactly her favorite thing, much preferring summer on the beach.

”I never met my father.”

She turned to look back at the water again.

"Sounds... surreal," he commented, imagining what it must've been like to live there. He gave a sort of sigh. "Wish I could've seen it..."

He offered a symapthetic smile.

"Me either."

”It was in a way.” Time seemed to be nonexistent in that point of her life, as if everything would go on forever like that. But it didn’t and her surreal and happy life had ended the day they sailed to America and then eventually ended up here.

It was quite for a time after she spoke and Rasmus went silent as well. Without warning she just started crying and buried her head back into the midst of her sweatshirt. Why did everything have to be so miserable? Rasmus do you have any idea what you got yourself into this morning?

The smile dissapeared from his face and worry creased his brow. He had a feeling sh wasn't okay.

He pushed himself back up and approached her once more, filling in the space between them until he was next to her, hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay," he tried to sound soothing, like Tori once had to him...

And no, he hadn't realized what he was getting into. Not at all.

The sudden touch on her shoulder caused her to jump once again. She wasn’t big on touching lately and who could blame her? But he seemed okay so she tried to remain calm with him touching her. She kept trying to tell herself he wasn’t going to do anything.

She shook her head back and forth.

”It’s not okay. Nothing will ever be okay.” And there she goes slipping back into her depressive mood. It was hard to ever really get out of it though. It’s not like she had very many happy memories. The bad outweighed the good quite a bit.

"Hey, hey..." he tried to calm her after she'd jumped and nearly jerked away. "It's okay."

He didn't know what to say. He tried to console her.

"Is there anything that would make it better... even just for a little while?"

Soft, motherly voice.

”No.” Nothing could make it better unless you could magically bring Erik back to life. But she had a feeling he couldn’t do that and even if he could Erik wouldn’t be the same as a person of the living dead. She couldn’t even find the words to thank him for trying to make her feel better.

"Not even a little bit?" He gently rubbed her shoulder in attempt to be soothing.

"Not even something to eat, or... soemthing to take your mind off whatever's bothering you?"

When he started rubbing her shoulder she got images of Erik doing the same thing so long ago. It seemed almost an eternity ago now that he’d been there. And now, somebody else was trying to comfort her and she couldn’t even appreciate she was so upset.

She shook her head no again.

”Only the water helps and listening to the waves.” She wasn’t hungry. In fact she hardly ever felt like eating, hence why she was slightly malnourished but you would never know it under the baggy sweatshirt and loose blue jeans.

"Why don't we go closer to the water than, hm?" He coaxed, softly. Still motherly, that 'I-could-never-hurt-a-soul voice' that's hard to trust sometimes.

"C'mon, it might help you feel better."

Please?

He couldn't stand to see people hurt.

She thought about it for a moment before nodding in agreement and slowly got to her feet.

Walking down to the water she stopped as her feet submerged in the water. It was still cold but felt good as if the tide was taking her sorrows away from her. Eyes closed and she simply let the sound of the waves try and relieve her pain, even if it was only just a bit and temporary.

"There, now..."

Quietly, (near silently, really) he straightened himself and padded beside her to the water, saying nothing. Sometimes all it took was silence.

He walked a little bit further into the water, letting its icy presence wash over his ankles and calves.

And he sighed, gently, looking to Callie.

She heard him enter the water beside her and she opened her eyes to see him walking further into the frigid water. Normally she would have followed and perhaps even gone for a swim, but she wasn’t for a couple of reasons. For one she didn’t have a swim suit and number to she didn’t feel like getting hypothermia no matter how depressed she felt.

Eyes met with his as he looked to her and she cast her gaze away. After a few minutes she turned around and walked towards the edge of the forest and leaned against the trunk of a pine tree. Her head rested against it and then she looked back out at the water.

She looked back to him wondering why he cared about how she felt. Nobody else had in such a long time and especially not strangers. They usually just turned away and rather not look.

Rasmus didn't follow when she walked towards the forest's edge, even though his eyes did. He was contented in watching her, knowing that she wasn't crying (though he knew she was probably hurting from something inside. It was obvious).

He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes never straying from their place and form never moving.

It was like before. He was standing his ground, but watching just to make sure she was all right.

She definitely wasn’t alright, but she didn’t feel like sharing what was wrong. It was too hard to talk about and especially with someone she just met out of nowhere in the early morning hours.

”You don’t have to keep staring, I’m not going to do anything.” She said softly to him as she realized he wasn’t taking his eyes away from her.

He averted his gaze for a minute, slowly walking out of the water. He uncrossed his arms and his hands slid into his pockets. He buried his feet into the sand, its grainy substance sticking to his wet skin.

"Sorry. Did I seem accusatory?"

His silver eyes flicked back to where she stood. He pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose again.

She shrugged and then as he uncrossed his arms she crossed her own against her chest.

”No. It’s just…” Just what? She didn’t really know what to say. It was just awkward having someone stare at her, especially when she hadn’t had human contact in about 10 months.

”I’m….I’m just not used to being around people.” She wondered how many questions that would spark.

His eyebrows raised slightly, elegantly, unnoticeably, then dropped lightly. He really wasn't surprised, from the way she acted.

"I get it. That's okay. That explains your bruised faith...?"

He looked sympathetic again.

Bruised faith? Being alone wasn’t what caused it to be bruised, but when she had been around people. She looked at her hands and her left hand ran a finger over the scar in the middle of her right hand where she had been nailed to the table in that wretched place with at horrible boy. It would be more obvious to Rasmus if he ever saw her back from where her mother lashed her on her back or the cuts on her stomach, legs and arms where Logan had cut her as well as the scars on her hands. It seemed like there was no place on her body anymore that wasn’t marked or messed up.

”People did it.” She replied simply and then slumped down against the tree and sat in where the sand met the grass her side leaning against the tree still.

A frown crossed his features, and he sort of coked his head, as if to ponder something. "So, I've got it wrong, then. You avoid people because they did it to you and that's why you have damaged faith."

His expression didn't change from a frown.

"People do a lot of things, but..."

He shook his head, looking to the water for a moment.

"I don't know why they'd want to do anything to you."

It bothered him.

She didn’t respond to what he had to say this time but kept silent. It seemed to be what she was good at lately; not talking. However she did have to reply to his second statement.

”Yet they keep finding me.” She said with a shrug and a massive sigh afterwards.

”I thought you were like the rest when I first saw you.” The rest being namely Logan and, in some ways, her mother. She still wasn’t fully ready to admit that what her mother had been doing was wrong on many different levels.

His brows drew together in a frustrated expression, but his face was still turned to the water. He didn't know what to say.

"I am a person in general. That aspect can never be changed."

He shrugged.

"But I don't think I'm like the people you know. Or, apparently, used to know."

She didn’t exactly know Logan, but what she did know is that she never wanted to run into him ever again. That was why she had been staying away from the city and remaining in the cabin alone. It was the only place she felt secure for nobody had ever found it other than Charlie and even he had help from a ghost. Most people don’t have that.

Instead of saying anything back she remained quiet. Her eyes turned away from him and to the forest as she rested her head on the bark of the tree trunk once again. Hands were shoved into the comfort of her big sweatshirt as if she wanted to hide them from the world; or just herself.

With anyone else, Rasmus would've wondered if he said something wrong, but when Callie didn't answer it didn't matter because it was a privilege just to hear her speak, considering the circumstances.

"Do you ever get lonely, though?"

He finally looked back toward her.

Did she ever get lonely? There were times that was true enough, but all she had to do to get rid of the feeling was have yet another nightmare of that awful day and it sent her right back into depression and feeling quite comfortable with being in solitude and confined to the forest willingly.

She shrugged. So indecisive about what she thought. Eyebrows seemed to sink sadly on her face.

”I used to.” Before everything happened, before she met Charlie when it was just her mother and herself. But not afterwards.

It seemed as if he was treading territory he didn't belong in and he regretted asking. Though, he did give a gentle nod towards Callie.

"I'd be lonely all the time, if I didn't have people around..." he offered, looking away again.

He didn't have people around him usually, so he was lonely most of the time, anyway.

Most people would be lonely if they didn’t have others to talk to. But basically Callie wasn’t really a person she was a Siren. But he didn’t know that so she wouldn’t say anything and simply shrugged again.

You’d think the atmosphere would feel awkward with them hardly talking at all, but it was this way that Callie felt more comfortable rather than trying to have long drawn out conversations with a stranger that she hadn’t even given her name to yet.

Rasmus sat himself in the sand again, with a sigh. He gazed out at the water for a long time, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He shivered as a breeze went by, then looked up at Callie once more.

...aren't you cold?

But the words weren't spoken, they were just evident in his eyes.