Stars and Boulevards

Night of the Full Moon
Early Evening
Sometime after Lesson One


The garden was a nice place, really. Peaceful. The smell of flowers fragrant without being overly sweet to her sensitive nose. At the moment, it was also empty.

Ondrea drew a vial from her pocket, scowling at the contents. Her mother may have succeeded in making Wolfsbane that didn't need to be taken fresh and could be kept for up to two weeks, but the teen was certain her mother had made no improvement in its taste.

"Godawful stuff," she grumbled in English, uncorking the vial. Her senses were on such high alert - as they always were directly preceding the full moon - that she had largely tune them out. It was the only reason she missed the sound of approaching footsteps as she put the vial to her lips and tipped the contents back into her mouth.

For a garden that was supposedly secret, it was a simple place to find. And really, the garden was a better place to be then - well, wherever Julian had been previously. He spent his days walking around in such a zombielike state that he wasn't even sure where he was most of the time.

Scuffing his sneakers along the ground, he took deep breaths of the evening air. Moving around was better than staying in the common room. Rubbing at his blonde head, Julian glanced down at the cat on his heels. The house-cat sized panther blinked up, weaving her way through his legs for a moment before pulling away, glancing ahead of them before taking off.

"Wha - Nightie!" He scowled, muttering under his breath before taking off after her. Running wasn't one of his strong suits. Short distances, sure, especially when he was running away from danger, but luck could only serve him so long over long distances.

But Nightmare didn't run very far away. Bounding towards the werewolf, the Familiar paused for a moment before jumping onto her shoulder and then head, purring. Appearing moments later, Julian shook his head at the scene in front of him, a tiny real smile gracing his lips. "Sorry about that," he said, taking the opportunity to catch his breath, ignoring the jabs of pain that were starting up in his throat.

Ondrea finally did hear approaching footsteps - and a familiar voice - as she was about mid-swallow. It was a wonder she didn't choke in surprise. Fortunately, she didn't, but she did freeze as first the cat then Julian made their way around the bend in the trail. Nightmare stationed herself atop her head as Ondrea shoved the cork back into the vial and attempted to pocket it.

She fumbled it, instead, dropping it on ground where it rolled away from her feet and closer to the boy.

"It's fine," Ondrea responded immediately. Taking care to not displace the cat, she quickly moved to pick up the potion bottle.

Blinking curiously at Ondrea, his gaze flicking from the little vial in her fingers to her eyes, Julian opened his mouth to question her before deciding to save his poor aching throat for more important questions.

Watching the girl cork the bottle from her perch atop her head, Nightmare used the moment to lean over, meeting the girl's amber gaze with her own before giving her a friendly meow and moving back to her original position, curling up and promptly falling asleep.

Shuffling from one foot to the other, Julian rubbed his arms, frowning as it suddenly occurred to him that they were sore. He wasn't still sore from getting beat up, was he? That would be ridiculous. Shrugging it off, he attributed it to a lack of sleep and food.

Flicking his gaze down to the little vial as it rolled towards him, Julian stepped towards it, reaching down to grab it. Straightening up, he glanced at the vial curiously, twirling it around his fingers to get a better look at it. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really. But the smell seemed vaguely familiar. Maybe they'd studied it in one of his classes? Shrugging, he tossed the vial back to Drea.

Ondrea was a bit surprised that Nightmare seemed to like her, at least a bit, but made no remark. She knew she was no ordinary cat. Perhaps that accounted for her odd liking for herself. And vampires, for that matter.

She caught the vial, relieved that the boy hadn't seemed to recognize the potion. A lot of people wouldn't, really, but it would be just her luck that the person catching her taking a strange potion would identify what it was.

"Are you alright?" Ondrea asked him, being a bit blunt. "You've been moving stiffly - all year, so far. And you look dreadful. It's not like you, at all."

Giving Ondrea a little smile as she caught the vial, Julian absentmindedly reached up to rub at the shoulder where he (well, Karma, but as he had felt it, it was practically the same to the Prideux) had been shot. Looking up, he watched the darkening sky for a moment.

Turning back to the Angelique, he watched her for a moment, his blue eyes oddly emotionless as he struggled to come up with words. When he finally did speak, his words were clipped, not out of any emotion, but simply because it hurt to speak. "You're the first person to ask me that. Well, the dreadful part I've got from Nine, but everyone else sort of tiptoes around the 'what's wrong' question."

He shrugged, reaching up to rub at his throat, flinching at the raspy quality of his voice.

"Getting almost killed isn't fun. And -" he frowned, cutting himself off. If he told her that he was wanted for kidnapping his sister...well, that really wouldn't end well. And besides, she didn't really need to know that. "And my little sister's sort of -" he trailed off, not really wanting to say it, shrugging.

"So no, to answer your question, I'm not alright. But I've been worse."

"Yeah, well... I don't do much tip-toeing, anymore," Ondrea said, slowly taking a step closer to the boy, posture as nonthreatening as she could achieve.

Holding his gaze, she continued, "I'm taking out my wand. My mom's taught me a few spells that would help your throat." She matched actions to words, moving unhurriedly, tone soft. Ondrea didn't even consider touching the boy.

"Getting almost killed isn't fun," Ondrea agreed quietly. "Though, I'm sure my experience was very different. I... I was attacked by an animal. Not the same, at all." Something in her expression betrayed that she didn't wholly agree with the words she was speaking. And she didn't. Given the chance, Ondrea knew she would kill the werewolf who'd murdered her brother and left her cursed. It was a simple matter to remember to take wolfsbane, or keep oneself far away from people every full moon. The wolf who had attacked them hadn't even tried to make amends. They knew what they'd done and made no attempt at reparation.

Ondrea would never forgive them.

"What happened to your sister?" she asked before she could stop the words. The girl shook her head. "You don't have to tell me.

"Does your throat feel any better? There's also potions that could help, but..." she trailed off a bit, "if your throat keeps getting damaged, they won't do much good. You'd grow resistant to them after a while, anyway." Her amber gaze slipped away from his a bit; avoidance. She'd touched on the topic as much as she dared, especially since it was only a suspicion.

"Thanks for that," he said softly, nodding. Watching her step towards him, he gave her words another nod, his gaze watching her every movement. "Thanks."

"Still, I think animals sort of know what they're doing." Julian shrugged, or at least lifted his shoulders and let them fall, gaze drifting upwards to the kitten on her head, his lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile. "Not that that makes anything better." he added quickly, meeting her eyes again. "But on the bright side, if you ever saw that animal again, it probably wouldn't try to finish what it wasn't able to do."

Rubbing his shoulder, he frowned slightly. Hadn't Karma mentioned something about Nightmare mauling his father? Glancing back at the sleeping cat for a moment, he returned his gaze back to his feet. If his father so much as tried, Julian didn't doubt that the Familiar would kill him. But still, Nightmare had to go back to Karma eventually, and they almost hadn't shown up in time.

Looking up at Ondrea, he let go of his shoulder, biting his lip. "It's fine," he shook his head slightly. "I actually don't know. She - she disappeared." He flicked his gaze quickly away, not wanting to see the pity he expected to find.

"It does, thanks again." Frowning at her choice of words, he momentarily stopped breathing. She couldn't. She didn't. He was just overreacting. "It doesn't," he said after a moment. "Get damaged a lot, I mean."

"I suppose not," Ondrea said neutrally. She reached up to gently remove the sleeping familiar from atop her head, cradling her in her arms for a bit, instead.

Amber eyes slid to the sky. Dark had quickly swallowed up the remaining daylight. It wouldn't be too long before the moon was risen. Ondrea would have known that from the itching sensation along her spine, even if the sky wasn't in view.

She looked back at Julian. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said sincerely. Ondrea didn't bother with empty platitudes. 'I'm sure she's alright' or 'she'll be found soon' were not words he would need to hear. Furthermore, they might not even prove true. A lot could happen to a person, after all.

Ondrea held her breath as he held his, the action on his part practically an open confession. Her suspicions were right. Julian... A muscle in her back shifted, and Ondrea started breathing again.

"That's good," she said quietly. "See that it doesn't." The girl held Nightmare out for him to take.

"I have to go," Ondrea told him, words a bit too rushed to be casual. "It's gotten dark and I've things to do before I go inside. Good night, Julian."

Turning, she started off, pace quick. It wasn't far to the place outside the palace grounds where she usually changed, but she hoped her hurry would discourage the boy from following her. Ondrea had been half-horrified when he had chanced upon her in the first place; she did not need him learning the truth about just what it was she had been attacked by two years before.

If wishes were horses, peasants would ride.

"If I could choose who or what attacked me, because this is me we're talking about, I get beat up all the time," he let out a little snort, rolling his eyes, "an animal it would be." Animals didn't threaten you. Animals didn't have the same damn eyes as you. It was a thousand times simpler to deal with the aftermaths of an animal attack.

Watching the Angelique with the cat in her arms for a moment, Julian gave them both a little smile before following Ondrea's gaze up to the sky. Being outside hadn't stopped him from missing the sunset. Shaking his head at himself, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah," his voice shook, and he tore his gaze from the sky to fix it on the girl beside him. Pain flashing across his face to be replaced with an almost melancholy expression, he muttered, "I was too."

Taking the sleeping Familiar back, he balanced her carefully on one arm, using the other one to run through her fur. "I will," he answered, just as quietly, having nothing but paranoid suspicions that she knew just what he put his throat through.

"Alright," he said slowly, frowning at how quickly she'd said that. Was she trying to avoid him? Had he done something? And why in the world was he being so needy and second guessing everything? It was probably nothing, but his curious nature wanted to be appeased. His frown only deepening at her quick pace, Julian barely noticed Nightmare awaken and jump out of his arms.

"Hey Drea," he called out, stepping towards her. "Wait up." Glancing down at the cat beside him, the former soccer player took off after her.

Rather than slow down, Ondrea picked up the pass. The woods... the woods... Surely, he wouldn't venture into the woods at the edge of the grounds? Julian Rousseau was more cautious than that.

Right?

Darting from the edge of the gardens, Ondrea soon passed the treeline and wound her way between the trunks to where her clearing was located. She was - Ondrea let out a soft whimper as muscles in her back shifted - cutting it close.

She shucked off her pants and underwear, folding them roughly and tossing them in a pile before peeling off her shirt and sports bra and doing the same. The long scars marring her back caught the moonlight, even as another muscle shifted under the skin.

Maybe the clearing was too close. Perhaps, she should go further into the trees?

But it was too late. The Moon had taken her place in the night sky, forcing the girl's form into full bodily change. Ondrea fell to her hands and knees, an agonized cry escaping her lips which soon turned into a howl.

After an eternity of pain which was really but a few scarce minutes, Ondrea rose to four feet, shaking her brown-furred form to rid herself of the remaining tingling and phantom aches from the change. She huffed. It wasn't as bad as the previous time, at least. Perhaps, in time, the change wouldn't hurt at all? Though, whether it was actually becoming less painful or she was simply growing accustomed to it, Ondrea was uncertain.

Turning to pick her clothes up in her mouth and stash them somewhere for the night, the werewolf froze, amber gaze settling on a certain blond.

Oh, shit.

Why wouldn't she stop running? Gritting his teeth, Julian only sped up, frowning as Ondrea seemed to be leading him and Nightmare towards a forest. But what business would she have in a forest? As they entered the forest, he simply let the Familiar lead. Her senses where better than his, and he couldn't exactly see the Angelique anymore.

As the girl came into view, Julian sighed softly, slowing down. But why was she -? Blinking hard, his eyes widened as he watched her strip. He really should say something. Standing here watching made him feel a creep, but he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't enjoying it. His eyes flicking over her body, he frowned slightly. Had she always had those scars?

About to open his mouth and finally announce himself, fully expecting to be hit for it, he snapped it shut, flinching at the sound of Ondrea's cry. He - he should do something instead of just standing here watching her in pain like some sort of sick psycho. If it was him, he'd want something to do something.

But the Prideux was frozen, her pain bringing back his memories and for a moment, he was lost in them. But a nudge from Nightmare brought him back to the present. Staring at Ondrea, his breath caught in his throat. She - she wasn't just in pain. She was changing.

His gaze rising slowly to the moon, everything clicked into place. Was that the real reason her eyes changed colour? They'd been amber tonight. Did they get lighter as the full moon approached? Did the same thing happen to her personality? He hadn't failed to notice the difference when her eyes were lighter. It explained why she was so strong. She hadn't just been attacked by any old animal; she'd been attacked by a werewolf.

As her pain subsided and a wolf stood in her place, Julian stared at her. She wouldn't attack him, would she? But it was then that he finally remembered why her vial's smell had been oddly familiar. Wolfsbane.

Letting out a soft sigh, he rubbed at his face for a moment. Pulling his hands away, he let out a sheepish little smile as the wolf's gaze fell on him. "Um, hey. Can you even understand me?" He frowned, shrugging as he took careful steps towards her. "Well, I hope you can. So I pretty sure I get why you were so eager to get rid of me." Laughing nervously, he rubbed the back of his head. Just because she knew what she was doing didn't mean that she couldn't chase him off.

Glancing at Nightmare for a moment, he raised his gaze back to the wolf that he had to keep reminding himself was Drea.

Ondrea's ears canted backwards at his question. Yes. Yes, she could understand him perfectly well, thank you very much. She hunched down a bit as he came closer, amber gaze never leaving him.

"You stupid idiot! Why did you follow me?" she demanded, though all that came out was a series of agitated yips and short barks.

He knew. Julian Rousseau knew her godawful secret. Soon, no doubt, his entire fanclub of bleeding gossips would know as well. Her ears pinned fully back against the sides of her head, chin lowering just enough to show her embarrassment and horror without indicating any sort of submission.

Ondrea tensed as he stepped closer. And then, abruptly - wholly against her dominant nature - she turned tail and ran, her clothing entirely forgotten.

Tilting his head slightly as she tried to communicate with him, he shook his head softly. "I have no idea what you're trying to say." But nonetheless, he took a few careful steps backwards. Just her tone was enough.

Watching her for a moment, Julian thought that for at least a moment, he had an idea of what she was trying to communicate. He spent enough time with a cat who couldn't talk to understand animal facial expressions. "Hey," he said softly, stepping forward all over again. "Don't be - I'm not going to tell people, if that's what you're scared of."

And then she was gone. "Well then," Julian muttered, watching her run off. Shrugging, he stretched out on the ground, staring up at the sky. It wasn't like he had anywhere better to be. And Drea would have to come back sooner or later for her clothes, so he'd just stay here.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, staring up at the stars, when he felt it. What was it with Karma and getting hurt? He was going to have a very long talk with her. Sitting up to clutch his right leg, he hissed in pain, scowling. But for a few moments, nothing else happened and against his better judgement, the Prideux relaxed, rubbing his leg.

But then the fear began. Starting, he glanced over at Nightmare, who was agitatedly pacing. His breath speeding up, he let out one lone gasp as the pain began all over again. But this time, it was worse. Worse than the beating he'd received over the summer by at least tenfold. Julian felt like he was being ripped apart. His eyes rolling back in his head, he shuddered, falling flat on his back. Beside him, Nightmare was nothing more than a blur, shifting from panther to house cat to kitten and then through the whole cycle again.

Julian Rousseau was only conscious for a few more painful seconds before he reached his pain threshold and his world was plunged into darkness.

The following morning...


Ondrea made her way back towards the clearing. As usual, her body was a bit sore, all over, her legs and arms a bit moreso. Granted, she spent the majority of the previous night pacing all through the bloody woods.

Stalking into the clearing, her amber eyes narrowed upon the boy laying there. Her clothing was once again forgotten.

Hands resting on her hips, she glowered down at him, wholly unbothered by her present nudity. The werewolf trembled with so many emotions, she couldn't even begin to name them. And that was how she was still standing when the boy awoke.

Julian's dreams were weird. Though, if he was able to, he would point out that they were much, much better than his nightmares. Behind his eyelids, he was wandering around the school, clad in nothing but a hoola skirt. Pulling open the door to the Come and Go Room, he stepped inside, his breathing stopping as he stared at the scene inside.

His ears full of buzzing, he stepped forward, eyes fixed on the body inside. It - it looked like her. From the blonde hair that splayed out on the floor underneath her, to the closed eyes that he knew were blue, to the red boots that she seemed to always wear.

She couldn't be - but how was she even here? The thought crossed his mind for a fraction of a second, but he pushed it away as he reached her, his knees suddenly weak.

"D - Dilly?" His voice barely a whisper, he reached out to touch her, to at least make sure she was breathing. And that was when he heard her voice.

It was clear as day, as if she was right behind him. His heart speeding up, and momentarily forgetting what was in front of him, he turned around, expecting to see her.

Instead, it was a tape recorder in the hand of Alec Blanchard. Staring at the younger boy, Julian had barely gotten the boy's name out before Alec had reached him.

"You know," Alec said, tilting his head slightly, his light tone not matching the eerie coldness in his eyes. "Your father's right. There really is nothing worthwhile about you."

Julian didn't notice the knife he held in his hand until it was much too late. He didn't notice until the blade was already pushed deep into his chest, the hilt the only part visible.

His lips trembling, he stared down at the blood. There was so much. How did that all even fit?

Adrenaline had kept him from feeling pain as he watching the blood flow, too mesmerized and terrified to do anything. But that only lasted so long.

And when the pain began, Julian screamed.

Bolting up, he clasped his hands over his mouth, staring around the clearing wildly, breathing hard. It was a dream, he tried to reassure himself even as his fingers ran down his chest. A damn dream.

Realizing that he was being watched, he glanced upwards, jumping when he met Ondrea's gaze. "Um, hi." he squeaked out, last night flooding back. Hugging himself, he struggled to keep his gaze on her eyes. "This - this is a nice way to wake up."

Part of the girl noted the panic with which Julian jolted awake. The rest of her was too... everything to care. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl at his remark.

"What part of me walking away from you says, 'oh, yes, follow me?!" she growled, tone indignant fury. "Are you happy?"

Her trembling became more pronounced. "Now, you know my deep dark secret. Are you happy?!

"I guess that makes us fair, though, doesn't it?" Ondrea continued, lashing out rather than allowing the boy to see how raw and vulnerable she felt in the light of her exposure. It was clear in her eyes, however, in that vivid amber and the sheen of tears which refused to fall. "Y'think I haven't noticed how you're steadily getting thinner? How the stench of bile clings to your nails after you've shoved your fingers down your throat?"

Her voice was steadily growing louder, even as her composure just as steadily collapsed. "AND FOR WHAT, JULIAN?" she demanded, a totally different sort of torment entering her gaze - torment over what was happening to him, and not herself. "So you don't gain a single ounce? Or because you have no other way to hide from whatever bastard keeps littering your body with bruises?"

A choked sob tore its way past her lips and she sank limply to the ground, hands bracing against the grass.

"Now we're both exposed for what we are," Ondrea cried. "The monster and the boy with no place else to hide."

Still trying to slow down his heartbeat, Julian's fingers absentmindedly drummed across his chest. Flinching back from Ondrea's voice and words, his gaze rested on his lap, not wanting to look up at her.

Why had he followed her again? Everything before Karma getting attacked - oh, God, Karma. How was she? Was she even - she was alive. He could feel it. Comforting, but not necessarily helpful in this situation.

Glancing at Nightmare for a moment, he watched the steady rise and fall of the sleeping cat's chest for a moment before snapping his gaze back to her. Part of him wanted to reach out and - but the last time he'd touched her, he'd hit her. And he wasn't going to let that happen again.

"I don't know, alright? I don't know. You really think I plan out every single thing I do?" He snapped at her, eyes flashing. "You know me. I'm an idiot."

Oh God. She - she knew. Her words rebounding over and over in his head, his only answer was whimper. Was he getting thinner? Frowning down at himself, he ran a hand across his shoulder blades, wincing as he realized how far they jutted out. Staring down at his nails, his gaze hardened as her voice raised. Clenching his hands into fists, he glared up at her.

"Don't." Julian said, his voice oddly soft and not matching its cold tone. "Don't." He choked out before swallowing hard, his voice now rising as he narrowed his eyes, becoming more and more hysterical. "Just - just shut up. You don't get it, alright? You - you can't just pretend like you get it. So what? Who cares what I do to myself? If I want to slowly starve myself to death, then let me."

Bubbles of laughter bursting from his throat, he ran a hand through his hair. "Who says someone beats me up? What makes you think I don't do it all to myself? It wouldn't be hard."

Watching her sink to the ground, he reached out a hesitant hand before yanking it back. "You're not a monster." Julian said softly. "No more a monster than a vampire, really."

Ondrea gave a hysterical laugh of her own. "Right!" she exclaimed. "Because I've always been so very normal! How could I possibly get it?

"Who cares?" the girl echoed. "Who CARES??" One of the tears she'd been so valiantly holding back broke loose, rolling down her ebony cheek. "What about me?" Ondrea asked plaintively. "What if I care? Or I suppose I don't count?"

She simply stared incredulously at the ground as he spoke. What makes you think I don't do it all to myself? Did he really think that sounded believable? Ignoring his claim that she was not a monster - she knew that he was wrong - the werewolf looked up at him. And then her hand raised, swinging towards his face, closer and closer, as though to strike him. Her action was rewarded with a violent flinch from the boy.

But the slap never landed. Her hand had stopped a few scarce inches from his cheek.

"Then, why do you flinch?" Ondrea asked, the well of tears in her eyes breaking fully loose to stream down her face. Then, her hand did make contact, the barest, most gentle of caresses. She had started to cry. "Why, Julian? If nobody hurts you, then why must you flinch?"

"Oh right, I forgot, stuttering and - and not sleeping, they're so similar. I must've missed the memo." His tone dry, the sixth year rolled his eyes.

Staring down at his lap, he raised his gaze in time to watch the tears began to fall. Ignoring them in lieu of her words, he raised and lifted his shoulders, not really enough to be called a shrug. "Sometimes you realize that the people you thought cared, don't." Breathing deeply, he traced circles in the grass beside him. "Well, do you? And if you don't, I'm not going to cry over it. Which you shouldn't do," he added in afterthought. "Cry. It's not going to change anything."

As she raised her hand, about to slap him, he flinched, squeezing his eyes closed. When he finally dared to breath again, he blinked his eyes open, staring into her wet ones. "I don't want to," he muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest. "It's all involuntary. My sister, my nine year old sister, she - she'd hug me, and I'd freak out even though I knew she wasn't going to do anything."

Closing his eyes at the mention of Dilly, he shuddered. When he reopened his eyes, he swept a glance downwards, momentarily forgetting Drea's lack of clothing. Despite himself, he couldn't help but let his eyes linger. Slowly raising his gaze to hers, he stammered out, "You - your clothes - I - I'll just -" pulling himself up, he glanced down at her before heading to where she'd stored her clothes.

Grabbing them, he raced back, almost scared that she'd be gone by the time he got back. Handing the pile back to her, he sat back down, staring pointedly back at the grass.

"You forget," Drea growled, "learning that your birth parents wanted to kill you for having magic. Being afraid of everyone - of simple muggles - terrified they might try to kill you for something you can't control."

Her tone grew very quiet as she bared the tales that never got easier with the retelling; including the one she'd never before uttered aloud. "And let's not forget seeing your best and only friend, your brother, have his throat ripped out by some beast because he threw himself in the way to try to let you escape." Ondrea's eyes scrunched shut, the agony of that memory vivid in her expression.

"Did you really think you're the only one who has trouble sleeping?" she rasped.

"I do," Ondrea said quietly. "Not entirely sure why - it's not like we're really friends or anything. I just... care, anyway."

The girl gave him a broken smile. "You don't have to lie to me, Jully," she murmured softly. "I won't tell anyone you don't know want me to."

Ondrea gave a soft laugh, scrubbing her face with both hands as he went for her clothing. Accepting the pile of garments, she proceeded to put them on. "Merlin's sake, Rousseau," she teased, though her tone was still a bit rough. "It's not like you haven't seen it all before."

"So sorry for not remembering your whole life story, I'll work harder next time." Frowning at the words be said, he clapped his hands over his mouth. What the hell. Was he trying to piss her off? The only good thing was that that sounded like something the old him would say. "Sorry," he whispered through his fingers, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that and that, all that you've been through? That sucks. My problems don't exist compared to yours." The lie glided off his tongue, and he regretted it instantly. What was with him and lying? One day, no one would believe a word he said.

"Every night?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you wake up screaming every night? I got kicked out of my dorm for it."

Looking down for a long moment, Julian struggled to come with the right words. She cared. That was nice he supposed, but he'd been absolutely awful to her back in their first two years. He didn't deserve it. Finally, he met her gaze, "Thank you." he whispered, clasping his hands together.

"It's not a lie," Julian choked out, his eyes wide and for the first time looking almost vulnerable. "I'm such a mess that I don't want even my baby sister to touch me. And now she's gone. I set a man's head on fire over the summer. I'm a godawful wreck."

He shrugged, running his fingers across the rumples of his shirt. "That was fun," his eyes misting over as he took a trip down memory lane, he rubbed the back of his neck. "That was a fun summer. Good times." He sighed, smiling fondly. Back when he'd been normal.

Ondrea's teeth ground together audibly, though it was doubtful Julian's hearing was sensitive enough to pick it up. She ought to slap him for that; hurt him for making light of her brother's sacrifice. The only person she had ever confided that to and he had walked all over it. Then, he further insulted Owen's memory by trying to mend things with a lie she could easily smell.

She'd never tell anyone again.

Ondrea kept her head bowed, the better to hide the muscle that was twitching in her jaw. Drawing in a slow breath, she finally looked up at him, expression momentarily blank. "What do you think silencing charms are for?" she questioned in response.

"I'm sorry," Ondrea spoke quietly, sincerely. It wasn't a matter of who was more screwed up in her mind. To her, it wasn't a contest - they were both damaged beyond repair. But she didn't hurt herself, so her problems mattered less.

"It was a good summer," she agreed, pulling her shirt on. It had been the first time she could recall feeling almost normal. There had been no more stammering and anxiety, and she had finally made it past her crippling grief. "Fun times."

Taking a few steps away from him, Ondrea gazed up into the sky. "You really don't have to lie to try to appease me," she reiterated, though her tone grew a bit detached as she thought of how Julian had responded to what she'd seen the night Owen died. "I can smell it when you lie. You're not that good at it." She looked down at the ground, her voice growing incredibly soft.

"So, just... don't," she pleaded.

"Listen, Drea, I didn't -" He trailed off, suddenly realizing just how bad what he'd said had been. If someone had just said that to him if he'd told them about Dilly, he'd hit them, not caring about his self imposed rules. "You know what?" His eyes darkened, disgust and anger directed at himself brewing in the pit of his stomach. "Hit me. I - I fucking deserve it. Who knows?" he smiled widely, but there was nothing happy about his expression. "Maybe I'll finally grow up and not flinch." 

He was walking a very dangerous line between no longer caring and actively seeking out pain. But really, Julian had crosssed that line so long ago, he barely remembered where it was.

"That would involve me being smart," he scrunched up his nose, frowning as he gently smacked the side of his head. "I think part of my brain died." That idea had never even crossed his mind. Nor his dormmates, but Julian suspiciously thought they were glad to kick him out.

Nodding his head slightly in agreement, he ran a hand through his hair, smoothing out his bangs absentmindedly.

"I'd do anything to go back to then," he murmured. "I'd just go back and live in the past. Everything was so much simpler than."

Frowning down at his hands, his eyes pricked with unshed tears. He wasn't a good liar? So why in the world had the people he'd been friends with since that first carriage ride - he didn't call them Angels for nothing - failed to notice at least the bruises? How good could an eleven year old be at hiding those? Of course, there was always that possibility, the one that made him want to curl into a ball and sob. The one that said that they knew, they'd known this whole time, but they hadn't given a damn.

"Aye, aye, Captain Montgomery. Only the truth for you." he tried to give her a smile, but the seeping cold he felt and the practically dead look in his eyes and his monotonous tone made that next to impossible.

Ondrea gave him a wan smile. "I don't think hitting you more will make you flinch less," she pointed out. The girl sighed. Why get worked up? Damaged or not, she never really expected Julian Rousseau to be exactly selfless. "Furthermore, the familiar got twitchy when I wasn't really going to hit you, I don't think it will let me follow through in earnest." The werewolf inclined her head towards the cat in question.

"It could slip anyone's mind," Ondrea offered. She didn't point out that part of the reason might possibly be that Julian was subconsciously crying for help, the screams ignored by his dorm mates a cry for rescue. Julian wouldn't want to hear that, furthermore, she doubted that he would believe it true.

"Simpler," she echoed. It was, indeed a simpler time, but much as she missed her brother and would readily die in his place - really, it ought to have been her who'd died, anyway - she didn't want to go back. Apart from Owen, the past held nothing for Ondrea. Compared to then, she had so much more, now.

Ondrea had not realized how very selfish she was.

She turned back to him, noticing the way her frowned himself and guessing what must be going through his mind. The girl reached out to touch his cheek again, if he'd let her. Why his cheek - why such, well, intimacy - she could not say.

"Allow me to rephrase," Ondrea reassured him, "you're not very good at lying to a werewolf. You're a little too good at lying to everyone else." Giving him her own strained smile, she withdrew her hand.

Keep this up and we're in danger of being friends or something. The words were on her tip of her tongue. A remark to affect the situation, to ease it, to make it... less. Ondrea didn't say them, though. She was afraid he would agree. And Ondrea didn't want to be nothing to Julian Rousseau.