-The Cottage-
He stared at her as she laid on the stone table. Memories flooding back to a happier time. A place that held so many possibilities and promises. Damien felt his heart race at the memories of one summer back before their lives became horror stories. He remembered how soft her skin was, how he had longed to kiss her sunburned lips.

No, he had to stay focused. Those were memories long sense pasted and the woman laying in front of him wasn't the same. Hell, he wasn't the same man he was all those years ago and a man would be unable to live in just a memory.

Damien stepped closer and slid one arm under her shoulders, watching as her head fell back. His other arm slid under her knees, brushing back the silver silk slip Zak had clearly out her in after the curse. It took everything in his power not to lose himself in the powerful memories but the walk through the dark forest was more demanding.

It took longer getting to the cottage than it did getting to the manor. It was like the trees had moved and given him a clear path...or he just didn't notice it in the first place. Let's talk option two for the sake of his sanity. But then again, what was sane anymore. He was in a company full of supernatural beings, chicken headed mad scientists and Nazi's. Sanity wasn't a luxury he could afford anymore. Sure he was pretty level headed sometimes, but this.. this was beyond that. It had turned to a world of the biazarre, and to be truthful, he kind of relished it in. Perhaps in the mass insanity, he wouldn't be seen as such a messed up individual. Ah to hell with what people thought. People were sheep.

Damien shook his head and pushed foward to the manor house where he had chilled the blood. He knew he didn't have long and he had to keep moving. He had to get her there. To complete what Zak had asked of him. Then they could return to America, where he would go on to win his match against his partner from last week. No! Focus on the challenge ahead. When she wakes up, she's going to be hungry, and you don't want to be on the menu. You dont need the years of guilt weighing you down. She had her innocence taken from her, yet, in this state, she still seemed so peaceful. Had Damien done the right thing? Here he was, a warrior, a hero, and cradled in his arms was the woman he once loved, cold, yet living.

"Hold on Micah... we are almost there... Stay strong my little fighter."

Damien made it to the manor house and took her upstairs to be biggest room. He smiled and placed her down on the four post bed. He sprinted down stairs and grabbed the ice chest of blood that he had brought out, running back up the stairs with it. He waited, his eyes darting between the clock and her body. He didn't know how long it would take.

-Micah's POV America-

She couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. Couldn't stand, talk, eat...it was too much... her throat felt like someone stuck a hot poker down it and fuck...did it hurt! Her body fell to the floor, no movement, no breath.. just.. darkness

-Micah's POV England-
Micah's eyes slowly opened, squinting at the moonlight. Wait, moonlight? She groaned as she sat up, realizing she wasn't in Nova's lab. Her eyes looked over to the man sleeping in the chair next to the bed, a bag of blood in his hands.

"Damien..."

She crawled over and grabbed the bag, careful not to wake him. He looked so innocent in his sleep. The empty bag fell silently to the floor as she stood, looking out the window at the English countryside.

"This place holds memories...broken promises..."

She knew she was talking to herself...She smiled and walked over to him, covering him with a soft blanket.

"Sleep, my fallen one. For we have eternity to remember."

Her lips ghosted over his cheek before she walked to the door, silently opening it to explore what was once my home.

-Damien England Midnight-Damien sat straight up in his seat, the blanket falling to the floor. He looked across the room at the bed. Micah was gone. He shot up from his seat running to the window. He did not see her. He ran through the manor, checking everyone room, but still nothing, that's when he saw her outside the window, walking towards the stables. He tore out the door trying to catch up to her, not wanting to let her out of his sight, wanting to keep her safe.

"Micah...wait up. Come on Micah.. come back to the house."

He called out to her as he ran towards the stables. But by the time his mere human feet could get there, she was gone. He looked around and spotted her walking over the bridge towards him. He ran towards the bridge, keeping his well trained eyes locked on her. Making it to the bridge, his heart racing, and short of breath, all that training at the police academy never had him chasing after a vampire, hyped up on blood, reliving memories. As soon as he could breathe, he spoke.

"Micah.."

His eyes searched her face for some sign that she knew he was there. She turned to him and smiled softly.

"I used to live here."

Damien looked at her, it's as if she remembered everything.

"Yes. Do you remember Madyson and Mackenzie? Come on Micah.. let's get you back inside."

He looked at her as her head snapped up. Good to know her memories weren't erased when the body died. Did she remember everything? Did she remember what it felt like to die all over again? Did she remember what it was like to have her soul ripped into pieces? Damien held out a hand, urging her to head back inside.