He stood in silence, watching the blades sheathe, and listening to her as she spoke. The growling that rolled from her throat turned to words. She was speaking to someone, someone he didn?t see, but rather felt briefly, before he realized they were alone in their once shared home.

In one way it was like her body was starting to heal itself. It was like he could see the shards of her sanity repairing itself, not unlike a shattered mirror pulling itself back to completion in a solid oak frame. He wanted to wait, watch for the recognition, and then she spoke again, the words cutting deeply as he understood what she said.

?Please don?t judge me. I did what I had to do.?

He could feel her waiting for the blade to drop. She saw him as an executioner. How cruel the powers that be, who would send the man she looked for, the man she wished for, the one that she wanted, after a string of playthings, to be the one to place judgement on her dark head. The ultimate torture. The ones you truly loved, placing judgement for your sins.

Her hands left the blades resting in their sheaths, and began to fuss with one another, almost as if she was unsure what to do with them. Dark hair was shorter now, but hid her face from view while she kept her gaze lowered at her lap before finally looking up at him, the ink gone, replaced by her eyes. The eyes that held love for him, now held an uncertain curiosity as she watched him standing over her.

Finally her hands dropped to her lap, and she looked defeated...fragile. Greg moved closer, wanting to take her into his arms, and she spoke again. Mentioning a child, and being damned. Madness and insanity, then finally saying it was time for her to be judged for her crimes.

There was no sadness.

She expected what was to come.

It would not come this night.

?Sidonie, love...I am not here to judge you. I am here to be with you, and I literally went through hell to get back to you.? His voice was quiet, serious in tone. The way he?d talk to her through the nights after they?d made love and started to drift off to sleep. The way a man in love spoke to the woman of his dreams... and she was that woman to him. ?I couldn?t judge you, as I am not without sin myself. I am your Truth, Love... feel that, please.?

Greg knelt down into the floor, before he finally, carefully wrapped his arms around her, and made a silent vow. If her mind was shattered beyond repair, there would be a war in hell like they?d never seen.

?Now tell me, please... who are you talking to??