Cold. Absolute darkness. Only the sound of his own breathing filled the room. He had learned to live with it, had let a part of it into his soul, had voluntarily given up a certain area in order not to be completely eaten up by it. Under his almost completely worn boots the floor of concrete, which as well as the bare walls radiated only icy coolness. With its iron claws it reached for him, crawled under his torn and dirty clothes and his unwashed skin, tugged at his limbs and wanted to bore deep into his bones, but he slipped away from it again and again. She screeched in frustration of the missed meal and decided to punish him even further with her sharp knives, some of which just slid over him and left their marks. But neither these nor the complete uselessness of his eyesight were the worst part of this situation. It was his thoughts, which felt like two voices - that of his heart and that of his brain. How long since I have been here? How much longer? Soon? In a short time? Today? - 'Never?’ - What would the Clave say? Can I risk it? Should I do it? He's a mundie... - 'No, he's a monster.'

In the next instant, pain exploded on his chest. A tingling and burning sensation stretched across it, momentarily robbing him of all breath. Staggering, he strode back, his hand over the cut feeling the pulsation and heat of his blood. Gasping for breath, he fell to his right knee, trying to control the pounding of his head as well as the dizziness that seemed to overtake him. He had not considered this possibility of attack and had not reacted quickly enough. Inwardly he scolded himself for this, he should have thought of it. "Better and yet... fatal", his counterpart instructed him with a neutrality, as if he did not see the wounded teenager in front of him, as if he had not caused the injury. "On your feet!", he ordered. While the cut wasn't too deep, it still threw Leonidas completely off his game after hours of training and the small amount of food he had eaten over the past few days. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't get back up anytime soon. "Again," his counterpart now growled, eyeing the blood on his blade just as callously as the boy himself. "Up you go!" the words rang out to him. Gathering all his strength, he tried to struggle to his feet, feeling the queasiness rising within him and choosing to ignore it. Nevertheless, he did not return to the fighting position. Black dots danced up and down before his eyes. His heart raced wildly in his chest. Stop it... Stop... Just... stop! A metallic flash... darkness...


Again and again these questions circled around in his head, haunting him until they suddenly changed. A bitterness resonated in them, as well as the rumble of determination that brought the voices to an agreement. No longer. - 'No more.'
The sweet metallic taste of blood still on his tongue, he startled at the sound of the door and jumped to his feet. The nightmare still deep in his bones, he instinctively reached for the pistol holstered at his side and pointed it at the figure. The sudden light made him blink hard a few times, but he kept his gaze and the unlocked pistol fixed and surprisingly calm on the person. A mixture of panic, pain and bitter determination flashed in his eyes, while his chest rose and fell in a rapid, almost hysterical rhythm. Only slowly did he perceive where he was. No basement... A young woman on the other side of the bed... Not him... "Serafina?", his voice brittle and rough, almost hopeful and at the same time uncertain, while his hands were now clearly shaking. First slowly something, when he had realized, he was no longer there, but here, in the institute, and suddenly rapidly as if by a tremor, when he had realized, it was his friend standing there. Swallowing heavily he lowered the gun, his eyes glancing wetly with upcoming tears he tried to suppress.

The sensation of the nightmare still clinged onto him for a couple of moments. Every bone of his body ached in sympathy phantom pain. The wound which Reggie had caused in his dream had healed and just left a medium bold scar which still burned after waking up. Every inch of himself remembered what it had been like, training day by day, earning bruises for not thinking every possibility through, being too slow, too undecided, too shy, too soft. Over the years he had changed to a more stoic self, enduring every kind of terror and fighting through it, learned to adapt swiftly to every scenario and to keep his emotions in check, suppress them even. No one should be able to read him, guess his next move, probably even think he was just a harmless boy – or now, young man. No one should want to hurt him, guess they could be able to. However, there was something inside of him, still luring and waiting for the right moment. Almost like he had different stages. Roughly sketched: The first one was the rather seemingly gentle one where he would argue with logic and rationality and simply dodge attacks, the second where he fought to bring his opponent to surrender without major damage, the third to knock the other one out and the forth to kill. The latter one could be divided into even more precise stages, rating from those with mercy and humanity to the one where he had only one goal – to assassin every target. The latter bigger stage he stepped into extremely rarely. However, he had had outbreaks before with his … ‘trainer’. Everything was alright till you would note a change. Not particularly in his body language or fighting techniques – in his eyes. Once Reggie phrased it this way: “There is a fire inside of you. A flame that can’t be extinguished. And behind it lurks a lion ready to break free and ravish anything and anyone in your way. Together - the fire and the lion are unstoppable.” But he never was in his dreams. His nightmares only showed the darkest side of it, the times he got injured, he was alone – oh so alone and vulnerable.

The moment he heard the door open, he was on his feet and ready to shoot. The gun in his hands, a Beretta M9, he could quickly grab the army knife at the pocket of his leg or one of his chakrams which were secured on either of his sides. In this moment, he clearly did not care about any manners, only to survive a potential attack. Taking some time to recognize her, he did not shoot and asked questions later. Watching her with eagle eyes, her nod wasn’t enough to convince him. The back of his shirt damp from sweat the cold hit him again, oh so familiar the feeling. What if she was just an illusion? A trick of his mind like everything around him and he was still in this dark … No! Tilting his head slightly he lowered his gun slowly, still prepared to lift and shoot as he did not secure it. Only when the dagger disappeared out of her hands and she relaxed visibly, did he do that without even looking at his hands. His eyes on her, he slowly got rid of the images and negative thoughts inside of his head which tried to trick him into thinking he was still back there. Sliding the gun back in its holster when she was standing in front of him, he looked into her face when she phrased the obvious. However, this time no smile appeared magically on his lips like it always did when she was around.

Nonetheless, his heart had started to slow down and fell back into a strong and faster but still gentle rhythm. Not thinking about that now, he snatched her wrist out of the air as she tried to touch him. A little bit too harsh and fast which he realized himself. Loosening his grip, he lifted her hand and gently, soft kissed its back as a sign of being sorry. Through his wild strands of hair he shortly closed his eyes during that before he opened them again, locking eyes with her. ”I am sorry…”, his voice still rough like he was about to start to cry every second now. Swallowing hard, he lowered her hand before he let go of her wrist completely. ”I didn’t … I couldn’t… I could never…”, he stuttered silently, exhaling deeply to calm his nerves. ”It’s been rough...” Was he really ready to tell her? At least a bit more? Not everything, that was too much. But just… Would she still want to stay here after what she had just witnessed and experienced? Would she want to hear it?

In this moment he showed his vulnerability, his suffer. The mirrors of one’s soul, called eyes, opened up towards her, cleared the view only for a few seconds but enough for her to be able to see parts of his broken soul. The crying boy in its center, still trying to smile through the darkness around him to keep up the light he was radiating whilst an adult version of himself took in every stinging pain, every torture, to protect the little one. Nearly pinned to the ground, held by invisible chains around his arms and legs. Like different shells they tried to keep the boy inside him safe. The one who could still smile, grin, laugh and bring joy and other emotions to the surface. The one who could joke around. The one who was his old self, his old persona. The one who could still love. This boy was so precious, so much more worth than anything, he kept him buried deep inside him to protect him. At a first glance, you wouldn’t understand. Most people just got to know the distant, cold, analytic and rational Leonidas. Few remembered him, realized how his personality had changed. Even less would ever hear the whole story behind it.
After his arrival here he tried to sleep in the bed but as soon as he laid down to rest, he couldn’t fall asleep. It felt… wrong. The mattress, the warmth, the comfort… everything felt awkward. At first, he had slept in one of the chairs but after waking up with several spots of pain in his back and neck, he had preferred the floor. Carrying all the weapons made him feel more comfortable than with just one or two by his side. Besides he was always ready when he wore his full outfit.

Her expression changing from surprise to one full of pain, claws grabbed his heart, tried to crush it and to dig their sharp nails inside him like small blades piercing it. The same tears clouded her eyes, however, he did not know why. Why would she cry? He hadn’t … He didn’t… hurt her…? Did he? Aware he hadn’t shot, he couldn’t categorize nor locate the source of her own pain besides… him?! That wasn’t possible, wasn’t logical, wasn’t rational… Her wincing was another sign he realized when he grabbed her wrist out of a self-defense-reflex. What was he afraid of? Not her, definitely not her. She could be dangerous and deadly if she wanted to, but in this case with him… no. But she could the skeptical doubt inside of him, the caution whispered in his mind, tried to wrap him into their reality of everything and everyone being able to hurt him, want to hurt him. However, he shook it off and apologized for his mistake with gestures and words. When he was able to look at her again, he froze. Tears ran down her cheeks, glistering in the light. More needles were punched into his hammering heart with full force. The pain spreading to every scar around it, following the cross-ways of every oh so small line of healed tissue, connecting his chest with his arms, his neck, his stomach, his back all the way down to his lower body, so that his whole body felt the burning ache. When she grabbed his hand softly, realization hit him like a truck. He was the cause of all her suffering, her tears. Exactly what he never wanted, what he had told her, he didn’t want to be…

Only able to nod slightly, he felt her taking in the same position like a few days ago. Burying her face in his soft skin, while her hands grabbed his shirt and hair. Exhaling shakily and deeply, his own arms wrapped around her instantly. Their full-body contact not worrying nor un-comforting in the slightest, he pressed her closer so not a single thin page could fit in between them. Inhaling her scent he calmed down in a matter of seconds, the majority of his muscles relaxing. Only those who held her still tensed, like he was afraid if he let her go, just loosened his grip slightly he would loose her. One hand in the middle of her back pressing her close softly, the other one rested at the base of her skull on the back. Gently buried in her hair, he nuzzled the joint between her skull and neck with such care and loveliness you wouldn’t think he was able to. Closing his eyes he couldn’t prevent his own tears running down his cheeks, sprinkling on her cheek as well as they held each other close. ”I hear you…”, his cracked voice whispered husky, ”… I see you...” Trying to calm her down, he was just focused on her own well-being. Tender his upper hand moved, caressing her through her hair. Surely, they were able to feel the others heartbeat hammering against their rip cages, felt the pain of the other one through it. Every beat of hers his started to tremble, forcing itself to change its rhythm, adapting to hers till they beat synchronously. ”Don’t cry… please… don’t cry”, he begged her sobbing as he felt his heart breaking more and more every passing second, well aware it was far too late for asking her that. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being in this state because of him. His own shoulders shrugging, his body shaking from his own tears of sadness and pain.
Loosing every track of time, he couldn’t tell how long they stood there, embracing one another heartily and closely. Feeling his eyes drying he wasn’t able to cry anymore. His body only slightly shivering as a left-over and from the cold sweat drying. Their puffed cheeks together, he didn’t dare to separate them, at first. ”I never wanted to leave you…”, he whispered into her ear. Not anyone of his family, not his friends, not the Shadowhunters. But he knew he couldn’t promise her to never do it again. Their life wasn’t without risks and he didn’t wanted to swear something he couldn’t keep up. The thumb of the hand on her back drawing small circles. Parting their cheeks only for a few inches, he kissed hers softly, showing her his affection before leaning his against hers again slightly. ”I will tell you… parts of it… if you… want to…”, he could finally manage to say.

An open book. That's what she had always been. Her emotions served on a silver plate, he didn't need much knowledge or skill. Just his eyes, just watching her. The drop of her expression, the slight frowns, the twitching of the corner of her mouth, the rolling of her eyes, her lips pressed together - all details he took one with just a glimpse and could read her emotions from that. Most - even himself after his training with the Mundane - considered it a weakness, showing those so openly. However, deep inside him he knew they could be the greatest of strength, a source of energy.

The first few days, he thought about his family and friends constantly. Were they looking for him? Would they find him? When would they be here? To save him. Weeks passed, then months, a year, two, till reality hit him hard. No one would come, no one found him - of they had even searched for him. The only one who could save him was he himself. Life taught him the lesson, he could and should only rely on himself. However, he didn't adapted that completely. Still he was a good team player, more like the leader, and certainly a protector. The latter not proofed to Sera till now. Holding her tight and close he almost seemed like he wanted to shield her from everything around them, wanted to take away her pain. Without a question he would if he could, would infuse it into himself, trading it with parts of the light from the boy inside of him, just so she wouldn't feel it, so she would smile again. Normally, he didn't show how broken he is. Not around others at least. However, Serafina brought out a completely different side of him where he allowed himself to remove his mask and show what's underneath. He didn't have to be strong around her. Almost like a miracle. Between them was some kind of bond, broader than normal friendship, which connected them somehow. Even after all those years she didn't need to earn his trust as he still did trust her blindly. During their first training session he had realized it ultimately. The chemistry between them, their bickering, their … whatever it was, grew stronger every second they were around each other.

The soft chills and shivers they had were caused by one another's slight moves. Their breathes tickling their skins. Her fingers curled deeper into the fabric of his shirt and hair as she tried to hold onto him, feel him with every fiber of her being. They knew they had never wanted anything that happened the past five years. And now they enjoyed for single second together. Shivering he prevented himself from sighing at the soft brush of her nose against him. Drawing back a bit he looked into her eyes, shortly catching a glimpse of the rest of her face to see her smile. One forming on his own lips, it was overshadowed by a bit of silent pain, almost a bit shallow like one saw his smile on the surface of the water. Nodding slightly that he had understood. Forcing his eyes to stay on hers, his skin twitched under her touch, his chest shivering had he felt the phantom pain there lately. However, they hands worked some kind of magic, stroke it away. Would she feel the slight ups and downs of his scars under his shirt? Trapped in her ocean eyes, he drowned in their soft glance. Holding his breath when her hands met his cheeks, his heart drummed faster with this strange sensation from the past days every time they got this familiar. Listening to every word he felt the pain, the sorrow. His heart ached and burned, skipping and jumping inside of his chest like a bird trying to free itself from the cage called his rib cage. His voice shaking, he was so honest: "I have missed you too" it wasn't a small speech like hers but the emotions in his voice were enough to convince everyone of its truth. Turning his head slightly, he couldn't decide whether side to turn to choosing her left, he leaned his cheek into her hand and closed his eyes again. Taking some deep breaths to calm even more, the sound of his name out of her mouth let his eyes fly open immediately. Leaning down a bit towards her, he helped her to reach his forehead and place a kiss on it. A smile tugged on his lips as his heart started to roar with applause and happiness. The next he did not expect but smiled gently at her. His eyes flashing loving, his hands which had rested on her lower back, still more on the upper part than the lower one, moved up a bit and snaked towards her side. "Pardon me but you are one to talk", he returned the favor. Keeping the eye contact he lifted her up the next moment, her body lighter than he had estimated. Holding her gently and securely he walked with her towards the bath room, setting her back on her own feet in front of the shower. Their lips shortly brushing over each other. "Both of us could need one", it was obvious what he meant. And he would let her go first. Fresh towels draped over the towel rack, enough for two even if she would use two towels for herself. Still he stayed with her, drowning in her blue marbles. His lips still prickling from their contact. "Take your time", he added softly, only slowly and internally resisting against stepping back, turning towards the door. If she did not stop him, he would leave her in the bath, closing the door behind her and waiting till it was his turn.

Glad to have each other back, he was still faced with a very big task - letting his family know. How he was going to do it? Possibly he would talk to Sera about it again. But these thoughts were banished to the back of his mind for the time being. Instead, the emotions burst upon him, pulled him off his feet and literally rolled over him. She made an important contribution to this. Her mere presence was enough, she herself was also overwhelmed by feelings. Why he was so vulnerable with her of all people? He could not explain it to himself. One part of him wanted to know the answer, another part didn't care at all. As long as they had each other... It was ... strange and just good, perfect. Even earlier, as children, they had harmonized together. And he was the one who had mostly gotten involved with the girls' fluff. By that he meant not only Sera's, but also Lydia's. What rivalry existed between the two, he did not know then as now. If he had to, could he choose one?

Even after they had both calmed down a bit, he didn't immediately notice their close body contact. For him, the only thing that counted was how they were both doing emotionally. If they needed it, he would continue to stand close to her. For him this was not a problem, he did not even think in any other directions. Later he might notice that they had been relatively close to each other, very close. An embrace among friends of a different kind? Rather, he would again be preoccupied by the strangely irregular beating of his heart, which played madly at the slightest gesture of Serafina. Not to mention her touches.

But now the spell between them seemed to be broken. His spontaneous and somehow almost unrecognizable reaction was immediately rewarded with a screech of his name, which only made his smirk finer and wider. For his sake, she could quietly giggle his name more often. And right there it was again. How did he come up with such thoughts in the first place? Almost as a kind of kick, his heart jumped against his chest at that moment. What did this want to tell him now? Unless it was completely out of control again? He would certainly rack his brains over that later. Now he carried her safely the few meters to the shower, where he set her down. To stand directly under it with her did not occur to him. If they were at a lake, however, he might have simply thrown her in completely at a deep spot.
In order not to appear impatient and strange, he already turned away to leave, but was held back by her "wait". Turning to her, he was quite aware of her hand, which had wrapped itself around his. Shortly the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but he skillfully ignored his formal caution at this moment. Staring blankly at her, he needed a few seconds to process her statement. Far too much of his attention was focused on her hand, the touch of her skin. What did she mean? Ahhh, clothes. To cover this brief moment of his trance, he ran his free hand through his hair. "Un momento per favore," he asked her, briefly raising the index finger of the released hand, its fingers still tingling from the gentle brush of hers over it. Something inside him just now was a little... displeased with the quick release. By the angels, what was it? Not wanting to let his distraction show any further, he had made his way to the closet. Dark wood processed with black metal and a mirror. All in all, it measured easily two meters and was actually much too big for Leonidas. He kept his clothes simple and minimalist, as well as his furniture. 10 long-sleeved shirts, 10 pairs of jeans, a total of 3 pairs of shoes, 20 pairs of socks and underwear - all in simple black and all the same model. That facilitated, or rather saved, one the search for a suitable outfit enormously. With all but the shoes carefully stacked on top of each other, he returned to the bathroom and placed them on a small chair, which was specially prepared for this purpose. By stroking through his hair, his strands became even more wild and stood out even more because of their self-will. "Here. Problema risolto," he concluded with a slight upward tug of the corner of his mouth. "Towels are hanging fresh there. Just help yourself." With that, he now left the bathroom to her alone and sat down at his desk to make himself a cup of coffee. Should she also want one, he would then make her a fresh one. Afterwards, he would go into the bathroom after herself with a fresh bundle of clothes of his own, and after a good five minutes, rejoin her fully dressed, but still soaking wet, yet neatly streaked hair.