I looked at him, and I knew my face was betraying the host of emotions running through my fragile mind. "So, are we going to talk?"
His face took on a pained expression, and I moved nearer to his side, taking his rough hand in mine. "Rory... who 'mentally attacked' me?"
He gulped quietly, and looked me directly in the eyes. I gazed back, trying to read what was running through his head, not just the thoughts he projected.
"My father, Line. It would of been him... It was him."
My mind raced, but I held onto the control of my paper wall. I projected my thoughts slowly, not allowing them to crash violently into his mind for him to deal with, but thinking them out slowly enough for it to be a little softer than usual. "Your father's alive?"
He moaned into his hands, then ran them frantically through his hair. "Yeah, yeah he is. But Line, I didn't want to lie... I hated it, but it was necessary at the time... I didn't think I'd end up here with you!"
I nodded my head slowly, absorbing his hurried words. "So, when you knew, that I was your partner, for life... Why didn't you talk to me?" I asked, my tone changing from confused and questioning, to angry and accusing.
"I-I.. I didn't want to..." He trailed off, seemingly looking for the right thing so say, to calm me.
"What, be honest with the girl, you say you love? Tell her what she should know! Warn her, that perhaps her partner's father might attack her!" I shouted, and he cringed at the edge in my voice.
"No, Line... I'm... I'm ashamed of my lineage, okay? I thought, which I know now to be stupid... But I thought you couldn't love me if I told you who I was!" His voice shook at the end, and his head fell into his hands again. He didn't seem able to pull his face up to look at me. My eyes burned into his chocolate hair, furious and hurt simultaneously.
"You thought, that I wouldn't love you, because of your family?" The anger had dissipated now... all I could feel was the straining pain in my chest, pain caused, because he thought of me like that... My voice broke at the end of the sentence, and my eyes burned in such a way to warn me that the tears were not far.
He looked up swiftly at the sound of my pain, and pulled me into his arms, my head against his chest, my tears spilling over, creating a patch of wet on his shirt.
"It's not about you... it really isn't, Evangeline. I just... have never been able to accept who I am... I just can't... and the thought of you knowing..." He trailed off distantly, and I knew he was remembering his thoughts... the way his parentage seemed to make him feel.
I looked up into his eyes, and whispered softly. "Rory, I love you, no matter what, and I couldn't give a damn who your family are, unless you wanted me to. I will always love you, and nothing can taint it. I do wish you had talked to me though... I am here, for you, always."
He smiled sadly down at me, and held me closer to his chest. "Ditto," He said quietly.
I smiled at him, then pushed across to the other edge of the bed, holding open the covers for him. "Come on... in you get, I think you're as crazy as me," I said teasingly.
"I don't disagree with you there, hopscotch." He smiled, and climbed in beside me.
I laid my head against his chest again, and waited patiently. After a while, as the silence continued on, the tension becoming thicker with every passing moment, I spoke.
"Rory, you need to tell me, okay? And everything will be just fine, once we've talked."
"What makes you so sure?" He turned me around so I could see him... I looked into his desperate, pleading, brown eyes and felt my heart break that little bit more, seeing him so.
"Because, once I know, I can talk to you about it, and we can face it together. We'll move on from it, and we can go kick some Kashian stone ass," I said, smiling at the end, hoping he would bite the joke.
His eyes remained anxious, but he took a deep breath, and begun.
"I was born into a rich family... big house, mother and father, one brother. My Dad worked constantly, always abroad, always busy. My mother was always the one to be there for me and my brother. Without her, it would of just been us and the Nanny. But one day... when I was about twelve, and Jack sixteen, my mother came down to the kitchen and asked us to sit down at the table. She proceeded to tell us that she had to go away, for a long time. She didn't know how long she would be gone for, but she would miss us terribly, and we were to be good for Dad, and try our best at all our ventures." He looked at his hands, his face ashen and pallid. "It didn't feel right... it was like she was saying goodbye for forever when she hugged us goodbye... Turns out, she was," He broke down into tears and I held his hand gently, unsure of how best to comfort him. They dropped slowly from his face, and he closed his eyes momentarily, remembering what I could only imagine.
He took another calming breath, gave me a small smile, and continued on. "She left that evening, with a rucksack full of weird quirky things, a jumper and photographs. Jack became more like a father to me than my Dad had ever been. He was the responsible adult, trying to manoeuvre life as best he could, trying to ensure I was dealing with life okay too. He made sure I studied, ate, and tried to minimise my suffering when we got the letter, letting us know that we would never see our mother again," He paused for a while, the tears rolling silently down his tortured face.
All I could do, was to sit there, closely with him, and rub little circles into his palm. Nothing I could think of would be helpful... what could help his grief?
"Anyway, it was about five months after the letter, when Dad walked into the room, and gave a brief speech about Kashian Protectors, the importance of the Tahistori, and what faced us."