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“Here.” The girl moved forward, getting herself cut in the process, and then she took his arm. Nathair watched her a little like a wary animal, not used to being touched. But she kept her word and gently plied the glass out of his skin. Tears were starting to well in her eyes as she worked.

“I am Leana daughter of Nithel.” She said, and added with the audacity of one who has never been murdered. “Why did your parents call you ‘Snake’?”

Oh he’s had it up to here with that name.

But he smiled sweetly and patted her hand appraisingly.

“Because my parents were very bad and hated me, next question?”

Suddenly the glass bottle beside them vanished explosively to a furiously theatrical Colorful Idiot.

“I’m back from the dead, Old Snake!” Arsene announced with a vicious smirk. But before Nathair could respond or do anything there was yet another boisterous shout.

“YOU!” It came from a perfect Arsene Look-Alike, just as furious too! Seriously, who left all the kids to run wild?

Arsene turned back to Nathair for a second completely off-script.

“Pardon me for a moment, Old Snake. I’ve got something to attend to. If you could wait just a second…”

Nathair nodded obligingly not really sure what was going on anyway.

And the two promptly tried to kill each other.

“I think we might need to get out of the way now, mm?” Nathair remarked to Leana, lightly taking her by the shoulder to a farther corner of the room before one of them accidentally tossed them through the air or something. “Don’t cry now, child, I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.”

He brushed her tears away, teasing a gentle smile.

 

 

Ok…ok. Think.

He can’t get to Leana in time, he can’t fight Nathair, Nathair would win.

He can’t he can’t…

Alessio clenched his fists and banged his forehead to keep from screaming. As long as he didn’t feel threatened by her and didn’t think he could use her as leverage she might be safe. How could he come back into his life now!? His breath was coming out his sharp, erratic gasps. Images tumbled through his mind, he’d all but completely lost reality in that moment. Fingers brushed against his skin even though he knew it wasn’t real!

Alessio clenched his jaw and forced his emotions to numb to the very persona he’d taught him.

Fine. Alessio smiled blackly as his eyes went dead consciously.

Then Arsene burst out into the center of the room (there was nothing so recognizable as Arsene’s strutting energy even in the dim light). Oh this was bad. He leapt after Nathair but was hurled back by Sherlock. Fine.

Alessio’s eyes narrowed at the wall of glass enclosing him. This was going to hurt. Damage control; it’d be easier to fight with an injured hand than an injured foot. Before he could freeze up, he slammed his fist through the glass. It shattered all across the room like dust as Alessio sprang between Arsene and Sherlock, gripping a jagged, red-tinged shard as a weapon. His right hand was shaking with pain, a gnarled, blood mess that’d be useless in a fight.

“I don’t have time for you, sir,” He said quietly, fire quivering through the whole room, flicking across his body. “and I won’t repeat myself.”

He smiled ruthlessly at Sherlock.

“You should run.”

Nathair was his priority, finding Leana was his priority. If Sherlock got in the way, Alessio would deal with him. After all, wasn’t he just a weapon.

And he was so focused, until he saw the person broken out of glass cage. He froze, everything froze. Something of that cold, calculating mask cracked in on itself.

Nithel?

 

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