It was like walking into a chapter from his past. Everything seemed so familiar and he found that he could remember exactly what happened in each corner on each step of every winding ivory stair case. Hundreds of words rushed though his head. The very figures of his memories were walking around him and into him on the polished marble floor like ghosts. It was overwhelming to say the least.

"You'll be fine right?" Emerson simpered as he patted him on the shoulder.

Damien took a last look at his ghosts before turning to him and smiling, "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Well, it's hard for me some days even though I've lived here for seventeen years," Emerson sighed, honestly as they walked down the long white hallway with blood red carpeting.

Slowly a gentle cascading trill of notes fluttered into the air, crescendoing into a loud beautiful clear melody and then gently descending back. Damien smiled, knowing that it was in his head. He missed her no matter how he tried to force it out of him. It was simply impossible not to.

Petra watched Damien closely, after Emerson had left the two of them to themselves. She wasn't afraid of him and she knew that she had provoked him. She had followed him into a brightly lit foyer with a grand piano, surrounded by many large windows. The falling snowflakes were casting delicate shadows on the floor through the tall windows as he sat down at the piano, slowly opening the cover with a soft thud. 

Then even more slowly and carefully he began to play a very familiar tune. It was that song that Lyra would constantly play day and night. It was so beautiful and equally sad. He didn't play nearly as half as good as her even though he had taught it to her, but it was still much better than any average person's playing. A gentle sob, forced her out of her deep thoughts as she realized that the playing had suddenly stopped. She looked up horrified to see Damien leaning over the piano, gently shaking. It struck her heart enough to cause her to think she was in cardiac arrest. What was she to do? She almost felt like leaving him there to sort it out himself. In all the years that she had known him, she had never once seen him cry. How was she to react?

She knew that a rage unlike any she had seen in him before would soon replace his sorrow and she didn't want to be around for that because only Dane could control his anger. She was afraid of him just watching his hot tears hit the keys of the piano beneath his hanging head.

"You know what the funny thing is," his muffled voice came out before Petra had even taken her first step to leave as he gave an irritated sort of sniffle. "I can't use my power on myself. I've lied to you all of these years. If I could use it on myself I'd tell myself to die for God's sake!"

Petra blinked a few times, momentarily in shock. What? He hadn't used his power on himself? He couldn't? She smiled, of course not. "B-But how-"

"Leave me alone please just," Damien's quivering voice came out from his low hung head, "just for an hour or two. Keep Emerson away too. I can feel the anger crawling beneath my despair . . . boiling."

That was her cue, her escape route, quick and easy, but then why wouldn't her feet move? She sighed. She wasn't an idiot and she knew why. How many times had he come to her side when she was at her very lowest of lows. When she was humiliated and on the verge of becoming as meaningless as dust. Slowly she walked up to him and placed a hand on his back. She wanted to think that it had technically been over seventeen years since Lyra had died, but the fact that Jade had been her ghost and had haunted Damien, made her realized that he had lost her every day since he had figured out who Jade was. Alastair was a cruel man.

"I don't want you here!" He shouted at her, sitting up and grabbing her throat tightly. His elbow hit the keys making a clatter of noise.

"D-Damien," she croaked, "I will always b-be here for you as long as you are there for me. I'm not leaving."

He stared hard at her, slowly loosening his grip. Then closing his eyes and releasing her fully he fell forwards resting his forehead on her shoulder. She tensed up. She had never seen him so vulnerable. "Why don't you hate me along with everyone else? Especially after what just happened." He muttered into her shoulder, the hot breath tickled her skin. She felt like he was a ticking bomb about to explode at any moment. She wanted to run away from it to escape the damage, but again her feet were glued to that floor.

"Damien, no one hates you anymore," she sighed. "And . . . and that was really my fault. I made you angry."

"That isn't what I mean," he moaned slowly, "I mean you know the real me. You know how awful I can be . . . how I am. Why don't you hate me like she did? Like her damned father? Certainly I've treated you just as badly."

She frowned. There were certainly times when she thought that she could hate Damien, but she could never keep the feeling for any longer than a few minutes. Was it because he was all she had? No. She cared about him. Why though? "Because," she sighed. "Damien I am more flawed than you could ever be. I am sin itself and I cannot help it. I can't hate you because you are my hope."

That made him sit up and stare at her, baffled, "Your hope? What the fucking hell does that mean?"

"You keep me from . . ." she paused, "I live for our friendship, Damien, no matter how many times you screw it up."

"Why?" He almost barked. Could he really not understand it?

"Why?" She laughed at him. "because you have had so many more troubles than I have, but yet you still persevere. You remain strong. I want to be strong Damien, so badly."

"I'm a coward, Petra," he spoke through a grimace to her surprise, "an utter coward."

"How so?" She snapped. She didn't like to see him wallowing in self pity, but she couldn't find any annoyance in it because he had never done such a thing before then.

"It's unimportant," he sighed deeply, leaning away from her and laying his back on the piano bench, stretching his arms out above his head. She bit her lip as her eyes traced over the first scars of a trail of many on the very wrists of his arms. They were so deeply carved.

"Damien," she muttered, reaching out for his hand.

"Why the hell did I think I could come here?" He snapped at himself, sitting up abruptly and brushing her hand away like a gnat. "No person in their right mind would be okay with this!" He looked around the room, probably at the many ghosts that haunted him there and then spat, "Damn it!"

Petra frowned at him, clueless to what she could do. His past was so hideous. It was no wonder that he had finally found his breaking point. She was surprised that it hadn't happened sooner. However, maybe she could take his mind off his ghosts. "If you can't command yourself. Why aren't you affected by me?"

His eyes turned from where they were lingering in the corner of the room to her as he gave her a casual shrug. "I really don't know, love."

She frowned. He had to know because she knew. Why was he lying about it? Why had he lied about controlling himself? What was there to hide? She smiled, realizing that she had lied as well by playing along. "Was what happened in the bakery another show, another lesson?"

"No," he growled darkly, "I very nearly lost myself to you, Petra. But," he smiled, raising his eyebrows mockingly, "I know you're keeping the answer from me."

She looked up, shocked. How could she tell if he was telling her the truth? His eyes were smiling at her, but his facial expression seemed to tell her that he was angry with her. She sighed. She didn't want to believe that Damien could loose control like everyone else. Could she trust him?

"Hey," Emerson, poked his head around the corner of the door frame, "sorry, I had to get things situated."

"What things?" Petra frowned, turning away from Damien.

Emerson smiled, "Well, surely you didn't think that I would put Damien through the hell of living in this haunted house. I had a friend of mine use his power on the place so that Damien won't remember anything about Jade or Lyra while he's here. I think that it'll make the day go by smoother."

"What?" Petra snapped at him, "How long do we have?"

Damien gave Emerson a funny look, "I believe you forgot to mention that to me."

"Why does it matter?" Emerson shrugged with an indifferent yawn.

"Are you that much of an idiot?" Petra felt her breath beating faster as she began to panic.

"I really wouldn't mind forgetting for a while," Damien smiled to himself, but he didn't understand what it really meant.

"Well, in any case it should take affect in like half an hour," Emerson sat down on the floor, casually.

"Listen to me!" Petra nearly shouted at Damien, grabbing his hands and looking him dead in the eye.

"What?" He growled, trying to slip his hands out of her grip.

"Damien the reason you're not affected by my power is because well," she spoke out, beginning quickly, but slowing down to a snail's pace towards the end, "well-"

"Well, what?" Damien hissed, successfully jerking his hands away from her.

"Well," she said, "because you love Jade. It's the same with Drake and Erik."

"Love," Damien smiled at her darkly, "surely you are not telling me that in order to not be affected by you, one must simply love Jade or should I say Lyra McClair?"

"No! Are you stupid," she snapped, putting a frown on his face. He had played her game for as long as he had known her waiting for this moment. "You aren't affected if you love someone unconditionally and purely."

"I'm not pure in the slightest," Damien spat. "Besides, I knew you long before I ever even met Lyra."

"No, but love is pure even your's," she replied, "and you met Lyra when you were what, twelve? You were too young to be affected before you met her."

"Of course, true love breaks the spell," Damien laughed at her cruelly, "you truly are cursed, doll."

"Thanks," she hissed, taking a step away from him.

"Emerson," Damien addressed Lyra's brother, "please, do tell your friend to call off whatever he was about to do. I'd rather not find myself in the awkward position of desiring Petra DeVore . . . again."

Emerson nodded and left Petra and Damien alone once more. "So," Petra took no time to speak, "do you actually think that Drake will be able to find Jade?"

Damien gave her a cold sideways glance. Why was she bringing this up? Hadn't he insulted her enough to keep her quiet for a while? "But of course," he replied through an exceptionally thin lipped smile.

"And then what?" She persisted, watering his growing frustration towards her. He had made her angry and now she was returning the favor.

"And then," he said as calmly as possible, "then Jade will learn about everything and she alone will go back into the past and speak with Alastair."

"Which one?" Petra barely gave Damien time to breathe.

"The one where she isn't dead yet, of course," he snapped at her. " Are you an idiot?"

She looked up at him with a smile and began to walk around him, forming a wide circle, not dissimilar to a vulture circling a doomed animal. "My, my, you seem so confident," she laughed.

"What could go wrong?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, cooly. Was she challenging him? Where on earth was this all coming from? Was she mad at him about what happened at the bakery? She had every right to be. He silently cursed himself.

"Drake might not be able to find Jade," she began to list off the endless possibilities. "Jade may be so severely traumatized by Erik's death that she may be unresponsive. Your past self may have put her in a terrible state of health. Then there is the chance that Drake does find her unharmed and willing to return, but unwilling to help you. Why would she? And then-"

"Enough!" Damien shouted at her. He sighed, "I get it. I'm not an idiot."

"Clearly," she rolled her eyes, mockingly.

"Are you angry with me?" Damien growled that terrible question at her. The girl's dazzling eyes were lit with a burning green fire and her hands were in fists by her side.

"No," she smiled sweetly, trying to hide her anger. Damien bit down a smile of his own. She wasn't nearly as good as he was at hiding her feelings, but then again he hadn't found anyone who was. "Not in the least bit. I'm just concerned for my future, since you and Lyra seem to hold it in the palms of your stained hands."

Stained hands? Damien frowned, bloodied hands. "I see," he replied coldly.

"Great," Petra sounded out each vowel, lengthening them into a sarcastic string.

Damien sighed. She was angry then. "Petra, what do you want from me? I will give it to you if you stop this. I'm exhausted from holding down my anger and your's is about to explode mine."

A cruel smile curled her lips, wrapping itself around her face as her eyes shimmered with excitement, "Me?" She laughed, musing to herself. She placed her hands on the piano bench on either side of his legs and leaned in close to him. "What should I ask from the man who can grant any wish? Hmm," she shot him with another smile as she stood straight, "I simply want you to leave Jade to make her own choice about our future."

"What?" He laughed, eyeing her up and down, "Since when do you give a damn about Jade?"

She rolled her eyes, glancing up at the golden chandelier hanging, suspended above their heads. "You have dictated her entire life, Damien, moved her like a puppet on strings, her life has been played to your script. I can't stand to watch it!" She stopped to smile to herself, looking at the polished floor, "Besides, I'd like to see fate work on its own accord for once."

"That's it then?" He said stiffly, "Of all the things in all of the worlds, this is what you want?" He frowned, hoping that she didn't know that she was trapping him, but she probably did. Why else would she ask such a thing? Could he convince her differently? "Are you absolutely sure, love-"

"Yes, Damien, although the idea of making you never call me love, doll, darling, sweetie and what not is very, very tempting trust me," she snapped.

Damien nodded angrily. However he knew that if he allowed his anger to shine though it would only fire her's further and then he'd get nowhere with her, so he replied, "Forgive me, Petra." He paused finding that word didn't fit in his mouth like a key in the wrong lock. When had he ever called her by her name? "It's . . . a bad habit. I'll do what you ask and Jade will have her way even if it sets my doom in stone. Can I ask though, what do you get out of it?"

Petra laughed at him as if he were a child asking why rivers are wet, "Damien, I am not you. I am not selfish and cruel. All of the worlds are screwed up because people keep demanding what they want, maybe one selfless act can begin to fix things," she turned away flipping her long curly hair and walked out of the room, leaving Damien speechless.

Her, selfless? Of all the people who had the right to be selfish she had the fairest. Damien tried hard to shove down the admiration that he was beginning to feel for her and replace it with indifference, but he couldn't get her out of his mind. "Maybe so," he sighed at long last into the empty room.