Her hair back in a long braid that reached nearly to her waist, Gabriella as she was known, made her way down the street with a smile on her face.

She was carrying a package in her arms that was to be taken to one of the parishioners of Holy Innocents who had fallen ill. Sister Rebbecca had made some goodies and packaged some tea for her and had asked her to take them.

The night was running close, but Gabriella knew what she was doing, and she knew the neighborhood very well. She was to call once she got to the home and then head straight back to St. Jerome's.

she had changed form her school uniform though, and was in a pair of second hand, but clean jeans and a nice knit sweater.

She was humming one her her favorite hymns as she normally did while doing chores that didn't require much thought.

But... As she stopped at an intersection, she didn't recognize the stores around her or the buildings. And the street names were unfamiliar to her as well... But how had she gotten here? What wrong turn had she taken? Had she gone too far one way? Gabriella looked around with wide eyes, but not quite fearful. She would find her way out of this problem, she would find her way to the lady's house.... She just had to think...

His veins burned with fresh blood, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. There were nights when he was certain that the monster had been tamed, that the violent urges to suffer and make suffer had vanished altogether. There were other nights when all he knew was needless murder, and he loathed himself completely if he was cursed with human consciousness and was forced to witness his own actions. But there were nights--like tonight--when he balanced unsteadily in between. And these nights perhaps were the ones he feared most.

Vivian's eyes caught on the girl in the sweater. Why certain humans stuck out from the others he did not know. But this one caught his attention, perhaps because she looked like he felt--like a stray, like a lost thing struggling to find its way back home. And yet the girl was not afraid. Unsettled, perhaps, by the unfamiliarity of the neighborhood she found herself in, but not afraid. That was admirable. She looked to be a pre-teen, a girl on the verge of womanhood, everything about her radiating the most fragile type of innocence. His stomach clenched against the surge of violent thoughts that accompanied that discovery. He could ruin the world for her. In one night, he could break her completely. Or he could light her world on fire.

Or, he thought bitterly, tucking his hands into his coat pockets, I could help her find her way back to wherever she is going and leave it at that, be a good person.

Either way, the night wasn't going to let him walk away. So instead, he stepped forward, his form gradually drifting into her view as he slowly moved toward her in the least threatening manner he could assume.

"Excuse me," he began uncertainly, his brow knitting. "You look...are you lost?"

Gabriella closed her eyes for a moment, saying a quick prayer for guidance and when she opened them, she heard a voice behind her.

Sometimes it was the little prayers that needed the quicker answers. And it seemed that God had been working on an answer even before she asked.

With a smile, Gabriella nodded as the man asked if she was lost. "Yes sir, I afraid I am. I must not have been paying attention and gone a bit too far or taken a wrong turn perhaps." She said in her usual soft voice.

There was something unusual about this man... As if he were lost as well. Maybe not... Maybe not like she was, but lost in a different sense. Maybe they could help each other?

"I'm supposed to be going to 1342 Tipton Lane... But I don't know where I am at the moment." If she was out much longer without calling, Sister Rebbecca would certainly get worried. And even if she was only lost, Gabriella knew that the sister would overreact, if only out of concern for her.

"Would you happen to know how I could get there?"

Vivian nearly visibly winced at the brightness of her words. And the girl was dead-serious. So polished were her manners--how did a pre-teenaged girl go about obtaining such a stiff demeanor? She certainly didn't look like the child of some dry, wealthy family. In fact, she looked a bit more like an orphan, a young and unfortunate vagabond--except for her face. It was her eyes, mostly, and her hair. There was something mysteriously radiant about her them that contributed to this unnervingly lively persona. Had he been a mortal man, the effect would have been something wonderful. As it was, he found her unsettling, but no less captivating.

"'1342 Tipton Lane,'" he repeated, his vibrant eyes growing distant for a moment as he pinpointed the location. Of course he knew where it was. By now he knew Demaitre like he had once known Quebec. Every corner, every crevice--he had spent many nights getting lost under the dull, electric lights and long shadows. "Yeah, I think I know where that is."

He studied her for a moment, holding on to the answer, stalling.

"Sorry for asking, but...aren't you a little young to be out this late alone?"

"Oh! Wonderful!" She said brightly, her eyes loosing none of their delight. "I would be so grateful if you would show me the way Sir." She asked politely, hoping that he would indeed help her.

"Oh... Yes Sir... I suppose so... But I didn't plan on being to terribly long. I'm afraid my little wanderings have taken up more time than I'd like." She admitted with a sheepish grin. "I was taking a care package to an ill parishioner of Holy Innocents Church. Sister Rebbecca asked me to take it and I was to head home. I'm just afraid that Sister Rebbecca will start to worry if I don't call soon." She bit her lip slightly.

She didn't need to tell him where her home was or why she spent so much time at the church and willingly ran errands for it. Everyone didn't need to know her situation... She didn't like the pity that seemed to come along with being an orphan

"Please Sir... Could you point me in the right direction?"

Oh, it was absolutely sickening. But in a sweet way. Which, perhaps to Vivian, made her innocence even worse. Not a trace of annoyance or even discomfort in her bright, young face. Nothing but the optimism that he was not indeed some weirdo on the street looking for easy prey. He knew how much he would love to shatter that inevitable innocence with a shock of brutal reality. But the wiser majority of his heart knew better than to play God, and he was repulsed by his own sinister wishes.

"Right," he remarked with a quick exhalation, "wouldn't want the good Sister to worry." Clergywoman. He should have guessed. But what did that make this girl? A nun-to-be? Some poor young thing doomed to spend her life dedicated to the inanimate? "I'm almost positive it's this way, and I know it isn't terribly far."

He gestured rather indifferently with his shoulder, his hands still tucked in his pockets, and turned in the proper direction. He walked slowly, shortening and evening his long and somewhat irregular strides for Gabriella's benefit. After a few brief paces, he hesitated and glanced unwillingly over at the girl.

"Would...would you like me to carry that for you?" He revealed one cold, pale hand and gestured towards the package she was holding.

"Yes, she can worry quite a bit unfortunately, no matter how many times Mother Superior tells her to relax and that God will take care of things." She said with a little laugh.

"Oh! Thank you so much sir! And I'm glad to hear that I haven't strayed too far." A child like grin appeared on her face as she looked up at him. She began to follow along, moving at a brisk pace so she didn't slow him down. It wouldn't do to keep him waiting if he was helping her. And with him accompanying her she would be less likely to get into trouble with others, and no one would stop her to see if she was okay.

"Thank you for asking, but it isn't that heavy at all Sir. I can manage for a while still. I'm Gabriella by the way. And thank you so much for leading me back on track. Sometimes it seems God arranges for help even before you need it." She said with a little chuckle. "I'm just grateful that you do know your way around. It would be something to get lost and have no one know the way. But I suppose I should pay better attention to where I'm heading."

He could have laughed out loud. He nearly did--or, at least, he felt as though he might. Although really there was nothing funny about this. How could this be fair? How could she be so...so doubtless? Oh, how he longed to prove to her that God had nothing to do with her circumstances. How he would have loved to show her that it was in fact he, Vivian, who had coordinated their little meeting. He himself had watched her. He himself had followed her, studied her, approached her. God had nothing to do with it. God would not care, one way or the other, if he took her life tonight. His fingers, curled like claws in his pockets, ached with hatred.

He tried to smile and stopped for fear that it looked too much like a spiteful grimace. Go on, mock me. You live in the light and laugh at all those who know only the darkness. Go on, smile. Laugh. She was only a child. There was nothing conniving about her. So why did he feel like she knew something he did not, like she was taunting him?

"Maybe you just have good timing," he replied grimly, his bright eyes made sullen by his slightly sulky expression. She couldn't know how irritated and confused he was, but he was admittedly having a hell of time hiding it. He touched the back of his neck--an old habit. "My name's Vivian."

Gabriella frowned slightly as she took in his look. His words weren't hurtful, but there was a tone to his voice... Not quite disbelief, but something close, something that told her that he wasn't exactly thinking the same thing.

"Vivian... Well it was a pleasure to meet you. But no. I don't think it was simply good timing. Everything has a purpose, great or small as it may seem, everything has a reason for occurring or existing." She said resolutely. Shifting the package over to one arm she grabbed his hand lightly as it came down from his head.

It was so cold... Like he hadn't been inside, or he didn't have a home... But it didn't make her hesitate a bit.

"Even if we can't make sense of it, there is a method to the apparent madness. A reason why things happen." She said as her chipper brown eyes met his pretty blue ones. She... She had a hard time looking away from them... "But... All we can do... Is be patient and try to understand..." Her words were distracted as she looked into his eyes.

There seemed so much sadness... And emptiness... Too much for eyes so beautiful. She... She found herself wanting to help him, to help him fill that emptiness. Those eyes, she knew they could be much brighter.

But how? He suddenly seemed so distant....

Vivian’s eyes widened very slightly with alarm as her warm, fragile hand touched his. Whatever her thoughts, she did not mention how strange his skin must have felt against hers, and she did not seem afraid at all. A very strange young lady, indeed, and brave to take the hand of a stranger—he almost felt guilty. Even so, Vivian could feel his tongue involuntarily slip over the jagged, rough edges of his fangs. He winced inwardly at his own monstrous reaction to her presence.

“And if there wasn’t a method, a reason?”

He had been looking ahead, but now he turned his gaze back on Gabriella to find her looking directly back at him. A cold shiver ran beneath his skin, a savage and silent cry for violence, for sweet and ugly justice. She’s only a girl! But God, how he could ignite all she knew, watch it burn in her warm eyes until she was as cold as he was. He could pick her up now, carry her into the darkness like a winged creature with its prey, casting a quick shadow on the pavement miles below…

You can do what you want with her! Listen to her voice, watch her speak. You can trap her, so easily, and take her. There, a dark alleyway! She'll go with you, quiet, so quiet. She won't feel a thing!

For a moment, they had slowed nearly to a stop, he realized, and the sudden lack of movement broke his train of thought. He looked down the street again and walked on in silence. No. You can’t let her in. She’s innocent. She’s done nothing. She just wants to go home. Keep her away!

The muscles in his jaw tightened, outlining his cheekbones as his somber face turned stony and cold. Surely this was insanity. Surely he had crossed the last boundary into some kind of sick, violent schizophrenia. But his thoughts, so scattered...all he could think of was her eyes as they met his, and all he could feel was the slight pressure of her hand, the warmth of her skin a reminder of how very alive she was and how very dangerous he had become.

Her smile grew sad. almost pleading... There was so much trouble behind his eyes, she wanted to help. She wanted to take all that sorrow and pain away from him.

"Vivian.... There is always a reason." She said softly, squeezing his hand gently.

He looked away from her, and she longed to see those eyes again, so beautiful, even with their pain. Had he no one who cared for him? No one who loved him?

He started to walk ahead of her, but she caught up quickly, taking his hand once more. "Vivian... I know what it feels like to be so alone... To doubt and wonder if He truly has a purpose. But He does, I promise he does. He wouldn't create someone like you and not have a reason for them to be here. Can't you see that?" She pleaded softly with him, hoping that he would look at her again.

"We were all put here to do something, and we might not realize it all our lives... But we are. God loves you, just as He loves me. And you might feel alone, but you never are..." She might have sounded as if she were preaching, but she wasn't. She only spoke what she felt in her heart. She knew that God loved him, that God loved everyone, she could feel it so strongly. "You're never alone Vivian. Never." She said with a sad smile up at him.

Vivian could hardly believe the audacity of this girl. She was young and innocent, sure, but hadn't her beloved Sister ever taught her to take around strange men? Her lack of concern for her own safety--or maybe her ignorance of how the world truly worked--was stunning to him, perhaps because he was quite the opposite. He was painfully aware of the dangers of the world as he was likely one of the worst ones. At any rate, her persistance managed to draw from him a smile, however faint--it was a smile nonetheless.

He looked at her again, this time puzzling over how so much hope could insist in such a tiny being. She certainly didn't seem the type to have much to be hopeful for, but then again, what kind of person did seem that way? And why? Anyone well off enough to be truly hopeful never bothered. He studied her warily as if expecting her to suddenly come clean and laugh at him for believing she was serious.

If you knew what I truly was...you wouldn't think so.

"You have a lot of faith for someone your age," he replied, his low voice quiet. "I remember when I was about your age, and I was certainly never so concerned with or impressed by religion. I always admired the few who could truly beleive in something so distant, so unconcrete. Sometimes I wanted to be like that. But I know what I am, and unfortunately it isn't my nature to be so trusting."

He eyed a street sign, led her around a turn. He snuck a glance at their hands, lightly locked like real friends. He did not understand this. Not at all. But he found that he liked this girl. For all her maddening words and sunny thoughts, he liked her.

She looked away, almost saddened at his words.

"For some Vivian... It's all we have." She said softly. "Those of us who don't have family... Who don't have hope... We have faith." Was it really so hard to believe? Hope for the hopeless? A sturdy rock for those who didn't know where their next meal would be coming from.

"Faith is what gives me my strength... My security... Because of my faith... I am not afraid. Afraid of what could happen to me. I have nothing to loose... I have no family... I have no friends. What could I loose that matters Vivian?" She looked up at him again as they turned the corner.

"If I die... Then I will go to heaven. I will be with my mother again, and I will be happy. If I live... Then I could have a family, I could have parents... Eventually a husband and children maybe. My faith is the only thing that keeps me whole... How could I question it? Father Borden says that we should all be like children. Able to trust, to love completely without question... Is that so hard to to? To love and trust unconditionally?"

“It should be when you live in a world in which very few people live by the same motto,” it was not a sinister observation, and Vivian did not speak it in a sinister fashion. He posed his thoughts like someone who had never before been able to speak with a truly religious, human individual. “You always have something to lose. For example, what about your health? I can think of few things to lose that are more valuable than your own well-being.”

But there was no point in arguing it. If she were to fall ill by some malevolent cancer, she would not cry out to God in anger and agony. She would not raise her fists to the heavens to curse all those who had doomed her. No, she would undoubtedly accept her fate, attribute it to a divine plan, a greater meaning.

“Children can be misled and deceived. Children can be used. And they are. All the time. Why? Why does God allow that?” With his last question, he sought her gaze with his own, searched for her warm, sun-bronzed eyes. Part of him wanted only to be convinced by her. But the rest of him knew that no matter what she said, it could never be so, and he was not unhappy. He was only remorseful that he could not better know the light she walked in, spoke with. He smiled a crooked, gentle smile. “You know too many things for someone so young.”

Why was he saying such things to her? If he did not believe... in God, in miracles and angels... That was fine. She was not saying that he would go to hell, or was wrong for his opinion... Her eyes fell as he looked at her, stinging slightly as she bit her lip.

"I... I don't know... I don't know why he does things. And... And I do not expect to know." She murmured hurtfully. "I... I only know that he has a reason, that he has a purpose for what he does." She fell silent then, her hand slipping from his and clutching the package to her chest lightly.

If he did not wish to believe... That was okay... But why couldn't he simply say so?

"But it seems that I do not know enough... I truly wish that I could answer your questions Vivian... That I could show you at least a ray of hope." And it did upset her that she couldn't help him, that she did not have the answers he was seeking. "I'm truly sorry Vivian."

"I didn't mean to offend you or hurt you, Gabriella." His hand, now devoid of hers, returned to its respective pocket, a sign of retreat. He had known quite well how detached he had become from human emotions, but he had never expected him to fail this miserably at communicating. The poor girl. He had not intended to make her feel bad. "I apologize. It was wrong of me to expect you to make me see things differently--only I could do that."

He watched her walk, alone now and several paces away as if his heathan presence burned her. It angered him, this new side of her. Though she was only a girl, he had thought perhaps her ideas were refreshingly different. But she was like any other God-fearing mortal. As soon as someone dared to question her beliefs, she withdrew angry and distraught. To Vivian, it was only further proof of how weak religion was, how easily broken human faith in anything could be. He was tempted to feel guilty, but he did not. Not over their disagreements, anyway. Only over the fact that he had upset her.

"You have more sense than me any day. To truly believe in something takes a lot of courage and a lot of strength. Please don't be hurt that someone--like myself--was crude enough to question that."

"No! No Vivian... It.. It's not like that at all." She said with a sad smile.

"I understand that people will believe as they choose and that I can only tell them about the wonders of God. But it is up to them if they believe it or not. I know what I believe, and I am sure of myself." She said looking back down.

"It's just that I wish I had the answers for you. I wish that I could tell you why he allows such bad things to happen." She looked back up at him for a moment. "I just feel there is hope in you and I want to bring it out. I want you to see as I do... But I... I just don't know how to." Disappointment? Yeah... That was probably best to describe what she was really feeling at the moment. Disappointment at herself, and her lack of knowledge.

She shook her head, a slight smile on her face this time. "No. It is not your fault for questioning me. I'm just... Upset with myself that I can do so little..." She tried to keep her emotions in check, to behave responsibly, but... She was still only a child. "Please forgive me Vivian. You don't need to apologize for anything." She said softly, a gentle smile back on her face.

"Still," he shook his head, not willing to let it rest, "it was wrong of me to ask so much of you. Truly."

He turned his head slightly as they neared another street sign. It couldn't be too much farther, which was unfortunate. He would have liked to speak with her more--preferably without saying something idiotic enough to hurt the poor girl. He looked back at her, smiling with a genuine spark in his eye.

"You are a very smart, very wise person. Sister Rebecca must know she is very fortunate to have raised such a compassionate young lady," he commented sincerely, for he believed very much that what he said was true.

Although he hardly knew her, he knew enough. Vivian knew people. All his life he had observed them, always too far to be observed himself, but close enough to see what people were truly like. Everything about Gabriella glowed of honesty and kindness. She was a child of morals, and he knew that to be a commodity--though the thought left him feeling rather old.

"So what do you like, Gabriella? What makes you happy?"

"No, it wasn't, you obviously never went to a Catholic School and was drilled in a class. Those ask too much of me sometimes." She said with a grin.

"Sister Rebbecca? Actually she thinks that I'm to smart and curious for my own good... She continually warns me about knowing things I shouldn't." She gave a shrug. "But the other sisters and a lot of the priests love to challenge me, love to teach me and talk with me. I... I suppose I get along better with adults than others my own age." She said with a slight frown.

She blinked though at his question.

"What makes me happy? There is little that truly bothers me. I love to read and write. I love to learn and talk with the Fathers. I always learn so much from them. I... I like to help the others of the church, and I love to feel... feel needed."

She bit her lip slightly. "I guess the kids at school get to me sometimes, and thats why I don't like them. They... They don't like me because I'm poor, and I don't have any parents. They think they're better because their parents can send them to school, and I've earned my way there... But I'm still happy I'm there. I love school so much, it's just so much fun."

His smile only grew as she spoke of her life. It made him almost nostalgic, thinking back to the days when he was in school. It seemed like so long ago, but his sense of time had grown so warped...

"I used to love school too, if you can imagine," he grinned lopsidedly. "I loved it because I could go there and--despite the fact that I was always surrounded by other people--I could feel like an individual. There were things that I knew that no one else did, and there were things I did not know that others taught me. I liked to read. I read all the time, spent hours just sitting in a corner trying to figure out what things mean. But I suppose at your age I got into a pretty good deal of trouble, too." He grinned again. "My brother's doing, maybe."

He was quiet for a minute, only breaking the silence by kicking thoughtfully at the ocassional pebble.

"Don't let the others get to you. They'd pick on you even if you were almost identical to them. What they say...it doesn't mean anything. They don't have real reasons to say what they do. They only talk. Words without any meaning. You're better off not taking it to heart. Anyone looking at it from the outside could see the answer clearly: you've come infinitely farther than any of them have and probably ever will."

"I... I know. But it doesn't make what they say any less hurtful. I mean, I don't hate them for it... I just don't understand why they have to do that. How can you tease someone for something so cruel?" She murmured softly. Malaika would never even dream about being so mean to another one of her classmates... How could they be so very different? Weren't parents supposed to teach their kids to be kind to others? To be nice and helpful? Respect their elders and treat others as they themselves wished to be treated....

How had she grown up understanding all these things, but the other children simply had no clue? It baffled her really, and she pitied them... That they couldn't understand these simple things.

She sighed and shook her head though. "It doesn't seem so sometimes. It feels as if I have simply reached them... Working so hard to keep where I'm at... When they've simply been handed everything..." She said softly.

"When I was first accepted to Holy Innocents... They told me that if I did not keep my grades up, I wouldn't be allowed to attend there. I've always had to work very hard to keep my grades at their highest. And I don't understand how the others can simply laugh and play all day as if they don't care." She sighed softly and looked up. At the orphanage you could see the stars... You could see the sky at night. Here in the city... It was just black... All the lights blocked the stars... It was almost depressing.

"I never understood it either," he replied dryly, his bright eyes murky and thoughtful. "I still don't. I suppose one could argue that it's merely human nature and be done with it, but that doesn't explain why. But the truth is...people like that, you'll never have their acceptance, probably. People like that don't change. I don't think they know how ugly they are, and they see no reason to change. They are...to shallow to realize that they mock what no one can control. They didn't ask to be born to wealthy families anymore than you asked to be born into yours."

He struck out at another stone, harder this time. It clattered off noisily, echoing like the sound of distant footfall.

"I'm sure people have told you it a thousand times before, but you're far better off on the path you've chosen. Don't you think so?" He glanced at her again, the edges of his blue eyes grey with gentle hunger, the lingering result of his...initial intentions. "Ignorant people are dangerous and foolish. You have too much potential to be like them."

They turned again and he glanced at the streetsign.

"Tipton's just a few blocks down this street," he gestured vaguely with a pale hand before allowing it to drop limply at his side like a martyred dove.

"It... It just doesn't make sense to me though.... I mean I don't understand why people feel the need to do such pointless things." She said with a sigh as she looked at her feet.

Why did people do that? It... It was senseless to tease someone for something that they couldn't help... And even then, why tease? Why couldn't someone try to use a constructive criticism to help someone grow and better themselves?

"Path I've chosen?" She murmured. "Yes... I mean I like to think that I am. But I mean... I can't simply think I'm better than them, can I? I mean then if I act like I'm better than they are, then that doesn't make me any better in the long run..."

She bit her lip as she looked back at the ground, her mind in an unusual state of confusion.

But she was better than they were because she didn't sink to that level. She didn't have that need to belittle others, or hurt them just to feel better. But... but if she was thinking that about herself... She was putting them down, maybe not to their face, but she was putting them down.

Malaika frowned softly and took his hand again. "I... I'm no better than they are though... I... Am I?" She asked, looking up at him helplessly.

"I suppose that would depend on how you define 'better.' I hesitate to say that any human is worth more than another, for when one takes that perspective, one begins to become detached, developing superiority complexes and whatnot. History has shown it time and time again. However, how else could I describe the will to be successful and strong and great that exists in some but is completely lacking in others?"

He pondered it in silence as if the hazy stars above or the empty streets around them might offer him some semblance of an answer--they did not. He was left alone with Gabriella and his thoughts. And he was troubling her again, unintentionally of course. But the worry was there, her brow furrowed with the concern of the sinless lambs still clean as newly-fallen snow, not yet imbrued by the malignance of their universe. He smiled suddenly and laughed very quietly, his suddenly philosophical mind becoming aware of its own absurd, mad scrabbling for answers he would never truly gain.

"Perhaps it is best to say that you possess a strength that many do not. I cannot say what it is, for I am not God. Whatever it is, it is a spark that some have and others do not. Those who have it often seem to me to fit in only as...outcasts, perhaps, or some gentler, similar word. Perhaps it is because they are jealous that they ostracize you. They simply don't know it because they cannot comprehend it--and you can. Again, I am only...I am only me. But from my perspective, I would much rather know just you than a hundred of them."

Gabriella listened to him without a word. She understood what he said, and a part of her agreed. After all, better was probably not the best word. But everyone had different strengths and everyone had different gifts. She'd been blessed with with her faith, her acceptance and compassion for others. After all, Father Borden had said that countless times.

Smiling up at him and squeezed his hand affectionatly.

"Yes... That is a good way to look at it Vivian." She nodded, satisfied with his words then. "Everyone has their gifts and talents. Some are not as obvious as others, and some haven't found them yet." It was told to them all the time that God blessed each person with different gifts, the day of Pentacost was a day to celebrate these differances and learn about their gifts and how to use them best in God's service.

"Envy... Yes, it's so common in this world. Causes so many problems amongst people you love. You... You are envious of your brother... Are you not? I... I'm sorry... But It just seemed so from the way you spoke of him. You love him, and even though you are twins, you are different. But isn't that a good thing? That he has qualities you do not and you have those that he doesn't? Qualities that you can use together to help each other..."

But she fell silent then for a minute.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying anything should I?" She said after a while.

His softened expression reverted instantly to stone. No, she should not have mentioned his brother. He knew it was not her fault--he had given her no real reason to avoid the subject--but her simple mention of his twin opened the floodgates about his heart, releasing their venom.

"Envious of Julian?" His eyes darkened and turned metallic as though cast from impassive stone and silver. "Envious of a liar and a trickster? Of someone who made a mockery of everything he knew? Why should I be envious of Julian?"

But he was. He was. He knew it and she knew it, undoubtedly. Everyone had loved his brother, adored him and worshipped him like a prince. At least, that was how it had seemed through Vivian's eyes.

"He was everything I wanted to be. Everywhere we went, all eyes were on him. Despite the fact that we looked identical, there was an air of confidence and well-being around him that I lacked. He was always the leader, always the one to jump up with an idea that, naturally, everyone loved. I kept quiet and watched and even tried to imitate it once or twice." He looked down at the cracks in the road, his profile cast in his shadow, his low voice rough. "It never worked. But it doesn't matter. I grew out of his overwhelming shadow."

Gabriella slipped her hand away, almost fearfully as he changed so suddenly.

"I... I'm sorry Vivian... I just thought..." She stammered softly.

But as she listened to him, her head dropped. So he was jealous of his brother... He was envious that he was not the same type of person on the inside like they were on the outside.

"Vivian... Twins... Siblings even... Aren't they something special? I mean... You and your brother are different people, even if you look the same. You are not like him for a reason and... And maybe he misses you because he can't find that part of him that you were."

She felt so bad for bringing his brother up again now that she'd seen his true response. How could he feel like that about family... If she had a family... Any family... She would be more grateful than anything...

"I... I should be going... I can find my way from here alright.... Okay Vivian?" She murmured as she saw the sine for the correct street. "I... I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you." Her voice was trembling slightly as she spoke. "Thank you though... Thank you for helping me."

Vivian smiled grimly as she detached from him yet again. He truly was no good at this whole "socializing" concept. But so be it. He didn't need her. He certainly didn't need his brother. He didn't need anyone.

"Then you needn't be sorry--you didn't hurt me. Count your blessings, tonight, and I'll count mine. You are home safe and we're both still alive."

He didn't look at her. He stared straight ahead down the street he had been leading her to, his cold eyes bright with disguised and unfocused anger, an anger that had nothing to do with Gabriella.

"Go on, then," he murmured, nodding his head very slightly in the direction she was going. "If you don't mind, I'll stay just long enough to make sure you make it inside okay."

He wished that if she wanted to leave she would just go. Every moment she stood there, afraid of him or upset by him or whatever the emotion was that flickered in her eyes, was another moment of impending anger. He wanted to be violent again. That would, inevitably, ease his nerves for awhile. But what then? He would leave, hands stained with fresh blood, and go where? To who?

But she had hurt him... She could tell and she felt horrible about it.

"Vivian... You... You're a good person... And I'm sure you love your brother very much and he loves you. Don't let envy get in the way of your love. Don't let anger turn you against him, and... Don't let the past keep you from going forward."

She wasn't home yet, but from here she could get back to the Orphanage in a few minutes.

Gabriella set the package down on the side walk and moved towards the man again. Slipping her arms around his waist she gave him a hug. She just felt that he needed one now, needed to know that someone cared. And even if she was afraid... She did care about him. Did care about what happened to him and all. "Promise me you'll... you'll try Vivian? Please?"

He froze, suddenly horrified as she set down her package and came to embrace him. But Vivian was surpised to find that no sudden and angry desire to rip her from him and force upon her some vile monstrosity snuck into his heart. Certainly the feeling was there--it always was--but it did not spring up, strong and overwhelming, as it typically did when a vulnerable victim was around. But neither did he feel any comfort from her sweet gesture of friendship. It was as if his heart had become completely numb at last, the transition complete.

Even so, he slowly brought his arms up and around her, very carefully and very gently so he hardly touched her, in a returning gesture of affection. She was a good kid, a smart girl with a big heart. In spite of their disagreements and the very short time they had known one another, he truly wished the best for the young orphan.

"I promise, I'll try," he gave his word in a quieted voice and released her, gently brushing the bottom of her chin with a crooked finger and offering a quiet, crooked smile. "You promise me you'll take care and be safe, Gabriella. And perhaps try and avoid walking alone at night, yeah?"