Silk robe on hot skin, Brigitte drew a breath between her barely parted, glossed-over, ruby lips.  Silently she bound her hair up at the back of her head.  Already her heart was racing, the anticipation was intense.  It thrilled her like almost nothing else.  No drugs or lovers could make her feel like this did - this alive.  Closing her eyes she listened to the sounds of the distant crowd and let her mind wander where it would, to all the dark places she pretended didn't exist, the memories she wished she didn't have, and the regrets she'd never be free of.  

A knock.  Ambrogio's voice, but he did not enter the locker room.  "You ready?" 

Brigitte rolled one shoulder and then the other and then she exhaled.  "Let's do this."  She said standing up from the wooden bench walking down the long hallway to the brightly lit arena.  Luca's club wasn't anything like Rome.  This was a legitimate boxing ring and most days it was used in the way it was meant to be used.  Nights like tonight, however, cops were paid to stay away and the spectators wore three-piece suits though their ties were loose, cuffs rolled up and it wasn't their wives they daddled on their knees.  Rosalyn's girls waited tables when they weren't serving the desires of some of the richest men in the region.

The thundering voice of an announcer called over the din of the riotous drunken crowd.  Because of the intensity of the lights, and to protect the identity of Luca's high dollar patrons, the fighters could never see beyond the ring.  Darkness surrounded them.  All there was now, as she climbed between the ropes, was herself and another fighter.  Sweat.  Eventual exhaustion.  Blood.  Pain.

"... with fifteen wins, and four losses, the three-week defending champion please welcome back The Bloody Angel of Manhattan herself, VAAAAAALLLLL-KYRIE!"  Brigitte tilted her head back and smiled, eyes closed she felt the warmth and intensity of the lights on her skin as her red robe with gold angel wings on the back fell away to reveal her body.  Arms wide she imagined she was embracing the crowd, a room full of men who howled both in lust and thirst for blood in celebration of her arrival.

Someone came into the ring and carried away her robe as she played to the crowd, flirting with me she could not see, wearing the face the world wanted her to wear - that happy girl, that silly foolish girl, the energetic blonde hedonist with no real skills or talents to speak of.  She knew in her mind what they were thinking.  She knew what they wanted and as she stared into the black abyss that was the crowd she imagined meeting each man's eyes and letting him think for a moment she might be his.  He might be man enough for her, to catch her, to claim her in the way that her opponents had never done.  Not even the ones who had knocked her out cold.

The truth was, Brigitte knew who she was and soon, if only for a brief moment, they would see the real her.  She'd give them what they paid for.  She'd give them a show.  The pretty angel doing what angels did, not singing and dancing, but pouring down upon their foes the wrath of God himself.  All her hate, all her fury, just ... for one... a brief moment in time and then she'd go back to her role.  To the woman she made herself be - that face they all loved to lust for so very much.  The one none of them knew or understood or ever could.

The truth was, the young Irish man climbing into the ring with her now - he was the only one.  He would know her.  He would know her more fully than if she had stripped down and fucked him right here in front of the crowd.  He would see her eyes.  He would smell her sweat.  He would feel her pain and God willing he was good enough to make her work for it - pay for all she'd done and did not do when she had the chance.  If he did, in her own way, she would love him just as she loved Rex and all the other men who had stood with her beneath the unrelenting gaze of the mob.

"... Thomas 'The Calamity' SULLIVAN!"

The crowd called out its appreciation for the man in front of her.  She watched him as he danced around, his red hair glistening with water recently sprayed on it.  His eyes a fiery green seemed to glint in the lights.  He avoided looking at her, but she could feel how much he wanted to.  Well, either he didn't like the idea of fighting a woman or he found it to be arousing.  Either way, she'd use it to her advantage.  

Billy scoffed at the nickname they had given her. Or had she given it to herself? Either way it was not quite what he had in mind when he had nicknamed her his petit Ange. It wasn't completely wrong though, Valkyries were angels after all, chosen specifically to guard the All-Father in combat, to be his vanguard. It was not the first time Billy had drawn parallels to the Norse god Odin and himself, though it would be rare for anyone to actually hear it escape from his lips. Besides, legs and an eye were two different things to give up. Legs weren't something he traded for knowledge right?

He felt hot breath on his neck then and raised a finger wagging it just once and pointing it at the ring. The three girls around him were doing their best to ply him with food and drink, to keep him sated every way they knew how. They were good at their job too, and he was sure that at least one of them expected him to take her before the evening was done. Though he wouldn't do that, he decided early on not to give a name, instead to let his money do the talking. So when he arrived and met the doorman with a wad of bills the size of which the man had never seen, it was no surprise Billy was taken to a VIP box, to meet a man named Luca.

The view was worth the money he had spent, and the fact that the three women around him were all going to go home tonight barley having had to work at all? Well that was a plus too. Though none of it was a balm to watching his little girl, his oldest in the ring with anyone, let alone with a man he was sure under more private circumstances would have wrestled with her all the same.

It made him grit his teeth, which is, he was sure, why the girls all suddenly tried to kiss or touch him.

"Please, there is a fight going on. When I need something I will ask for it. Unless you plan on anticipating my every need, just enjoy the spectacle of the life before you. This is life ladies, real, gritty, raw, and there's nothing like it. Not drugs, not alcohol, not even sex. Nothing."

He flexed his own hands, recalling times in his youth where he could feel the viscera of another man sloughing down his face onto his chest, or the hot stench of a man's insides, or the vital twitches of a man struggling for air. All men, all deserved, and all more real than almost anything else in life.

A metal bell clanged and she stepped towards Thomas.  There were no real rules here though certain things were expected.  You'd stop when they called for it.  No weapons, of course.  They frowned on killing men here.  These patrons fancied themselves tough men, but the truth was if they saw a dead body they wouldn't know what the hell to do with themselves any more than she had in Venice ...

Brigitte landed the first jab and she followed it up with a wink and a growled, "Hello, Tom,"  she followed up with two more to his core before darting out before his massive fist swiped the place where she'd been only a moment ago. 

She blew a kiss at him to massive approval of the crowd, "Shall we dance?"

It went this way, for a while, Brigitte moving in fast, tagging him and darting out again.  The Irishman went from not wanting to hit her, to being so infuriated she could see him forgetting she was a girl.  Forgetting his ethics.  Instead, he saw only a fighter, a fighter who was besting him and making him a laughing stock.  She was toying with him  The crowd was eating it up.

"You ready to take this seriously?"  she asked him.
 

***
 

"Here we go,"  Luca said just loud enough for Billy to hear as if he'd seen this before and eagerly awaited it.  

***

Thomas wiped a bit of blood from his mouth with the back of his wrapped hand and then he spit the rest past the ropes.  He nodded and Brigitte smiled as the man came at her like a lightning bolt out of a clear sky.  He was on her and backing her up with an impossible flurry of fists.  She couldn't dodge them all - and she didn't want to.  She was taking it the way a bigger man might, the way no one thought she should be able to.

***

Luca smiled a toothy rictus, letting out a grunt as Brigitte took blow after blow.  He winced as if he felt her pain and yet his eyes sparkled as the whole room went nuts with a mix of desire to save her and a desire to make her bleed.
 

***

Brigitte slipped in her opponent's blood, hitting the mat hard before coming back up for more punishment of her own.

There was something about watching a man hit you, watching his face starting out with that all-consuming self-righteous wrath.  It was a pure thing, honest.  Honesty is a gift you give.  Never truer words.  

Then the hate slowly morphed, always.  Without fail, as weariness began to rear its head, there was always this moment when the man took back control from the beastial part of the brain.  That moment when the man looked upon his work and asked himself the question: Is this who I am?

***
 

"Come on... Angel... come on!"  He urged her softly, sliding to the edge of the seat, gripping the arms of the chair as Brigitte took a blow to her body that lifted her up off the floor.  The crowd gasped and groaned with her, unsure yet if she was going to be out of the fight after such a terrible amount of force had been applied to her seemingly delicate frame.  All of the air rushing out of her in a single, terrible, heartbeat.

All there was in that moment was white.  Brigitte couldn't see reality but she could see faces and people and places that had once been.  In this place, this place she always longed to return to - where the pain was so overwhelming, she could feel it.  She could feel what she should feel, what she wasn't feeling the rest of the time.

That cell.

That dark horrible place where no one should have to live.

Her mother.

That sweet voice, she could hear it singing her a lullaby, feel her hands warm on her skin, smell her perfume.  That woman whose brain was destroyed.  That woman whose little girl was taken, her freedom stolen, her life ... ended.  That woman who had loved and been betrayed.  Been abandoned.  Murdered.

Brigitte could hear someone talking to her, distantly.  A part of her wanted to run away from the voice back into the white void where Sarah still held her in that tiny bunk bolted to the side of the ship - but no.  She was doing something.  Something important.  Right?  What was it?
 

***

"STAY BACK!" what passed for a referee called out to Thomas, who was already beginning to celebrate his victory as the man went down beside Brigitte.  The blonde was struggling to catch a breath and stand. 

"Stay down..." the ref gently urged her.  "This ends if you just stay down."

Brigitte, however, was not listening. 

Grabbing onto the ropes she pulled herself up to the cheers of a crowd that was now on their feet chanting her name.  

Billy took a deep breath. Followed by another, and then another. It continued like that until he watched Brigitte go down. He had seen all he cared to see. It wouldn't matter if she got up or not. It wouldn't matter if she won or not. Billy had seen more fights than he could remember in his lifetime. He had seen enough fights to know why this went the way it did.

Brigitte was faster than Sullivan. She was smaller, and harder to hit, she had proven it by toying with him, making him angry to draw him in. But then he came at her all fire and fury, and the three times Billy watched where he knew she had a way out, she didn't take it. She just let herself get hit instead. She wanted to get hit.

Some people turned to alcohol, like his late mother-in-law. Some turned to nature like Gavin. Some turned to keeping their mind occupied like he did. Some turned to killing, like Aurora. Everyone had something. Everyone needed something. Brigitte needed to be hurt. That was her something.

Fine.

He turned to Luca. "Here's another million on the Valkyrie. I'm bored with this, if she wins split it in three, one part for the fighter, one part for you, one part for the girls who certainly didn't bore me this evening. If she loses, well, you're up a million." He smirked and tossed the man a wad of bills before turning his chair and making for the exit. Once her was outside he nodded and the car was off to the airport. Billy would be waiting in Brigitte's apartment. After all, he promised Tara he'd talk to her.

Brigitte stepped out of the car and ran for the door to her building, hand-in-hand with her companion.  Stopping at the door, Thomas pulled her tight to him and kissed her passionately.  His hand tangled into her blonde locks, drenched from the torrential autumn downpour.  Brigitte panted, a cloud of air between them as he kissed her throat.  Absently she brushed a hand down his cheek only to have him wince when her fingers went past the huge discoloration around his eye.

"I'm sorry..."  she giggled.  "I have a steak upstairs in the fridge."

"Steak?" 

She shrugged and stepped into his body tighter, "What can I say, I like meat..."

"If you don't take me to your apartment right now, Angel," He grabbed at her body, causing her to moan in a mix of pleasure and pain. "I'll take you right here."

Brigitte fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door as Thomas clung to her, kissing her every step of the way as she got the door open, went to the elevator and exited it on the fifteenth floor.

Falling out and back towards her door, the two crashed into the wall next to apartment 15B.  As her Irish lover nibbled at her, Brigitte giggled.  "Let me get my keys."  Thomas' hands wandered as she tried to work, Brigitte moaned in spite of herself as his arms wrapped around her from behind and she felt his amorous nature while exploring her nether regions atop her clothes.

Finally, she got the key into the lock and turned it, entering the living room in a flurry of thrown coats, frantic attempts to remove tops and her purse sailing unceremoniously towards the dining room table - and missing it entirely.  All the while their lips never left each other's bodies... neither of them noticing the man in the wheelchair parked in the dark living room not feet from them.

Billy simply raised his gun and cocked it. Waiting for the sound to change everything. And in that second, he was certain that it did.

"Sullivan, if you want to live, you leave right now. If you hesitate, I won't. If you make a move toward Valkyrie here, it'll be the last thing you ever do. There will be men in the hallway waiting to take you somewhere undisclosed. You will see my face again if you're smart in the next five seconds."

He did not turn on a light, nor did he move an inch. He had done this a few times before, and he could sit like this for hours if he had to. Not only that, but these two weren't used to the darkened room yet. The only reason Brigitte would know what was going on was because of the sound of his voice. And right now, with how angry he was, and how... distracted... she was, he wasn't sure about how well she would know him in the dark.

Brigitte gasped at the sound of her father's voice and instantly froze.  Thomas was a deer in the headlights of a car, for about three of the five seconds he'd been offered, long enough for Brigitte to give him a gentle push with the emphatic word, "Go." 

A moment later, Brigitte was standing in the doorway alone, closing the front of her blouse, trying to put together what the hell was happening, "Dad... I... I didn't know you'd be here."  She stammered, wanting nothing more than a very stiff drink and to be anywhere but here.

Billy put the gun down as soon as the front door was shut behind the young man, and not a second earlier.

"By the looks of the place you didn't know anyone would be here anytime soon." He nudged a bottle off of the end table and let it hit the floor. "So Valkyrie, glad to see you had more fight left in you after you went down. Did you win in the end? I didn't care to watch the rest. I saw what I needed to by the first three minutes or so."

He started toward the kitchen then, slower than he needed to, purposely, clumsily hitting bottles and running into strewn about clothing to slow himself down.

"I hope you have something decent to drink besides beer. Then again by the state of the place you don't even have that left." He shook his head. "Et tu les laisses t'appeler Angel?" He lowered his eyes from his daughter and pushed past her then.

Brigitte's face went from furious to heartbroken and back again.  Her fists clenched at her sides.  She said nothing as she watched her father struggle through the ruin of her apartment.  She hadn't done much since returning from Italy.  She hadn't wanted to, it was why she'd been spending so much time at her parents' home.  She couldn't bear to look at what had become of her personal life.  However, after Tara learning of her habits, she couldn't take the risk anyone else would too and so, it was back here again.  She told herself she'd get around to things, eventually, but she never had.  Her bag from Italy still sat unpacked on her bedroom floor.

Brigitte remained silent as her father went to the kitchen and was able to locate a bottle of her grandpa Gavin's whiskey which she'd lifted from her mom's stash some time ago.  About half the bottle was gone.  She only ever touched the Mezzo Whiskey when she was feeling especially shitty.  She didn't dare meet her father's eyes as he continued to assess the state of affairs in her home. 

Billy made his way over to a cabinet where he knew the glasses were and then waited.

"Brigitte, I cannot reach a glass, could you please help me? I will gladly get my own water, but I can't reach the glasses."

He then got out of the way so she could do as he'd asked.

"So. You still haven't answered me. How did the fight go?"

She whispered, "I won."  She pulled down a glass and gave it to her father, not saying anything else and still not looking at him.  The silence in the room was heavy it felt like a weight that threatened to crush her utterly.

She walked out of the kitchen leaving Billy to get a drink for himself since he said he could and walking over to her dining room table she picked up her purse and put it where she had meant for it to land.  

Sighing she sat down at the table.

Billy got himself a glass of water and then opened the fridge and pulled out a beer for Brigitte. He brought both into the dining room and set hers in front of her while settling in near where she sat.

"Well that's good to hear. Your mother said you were showing some promise in Italy. I'm glad it wasn't a fluke. So, want to tell me how long it's been going on?"

He looked toward the door then and nodded.

"Sorry for breaking that up by the way, he seems like a fine man, but you and I needed to talk tonight more than anything. Call it father's intuition."

He smiled then and picked up the glass of water, sliding it in front of Brigitte.

Brigitte didn't move for the water or the beer, instead, she put her elbow on the table to rest a side of her face against the palm of her hand.

"I've ... I've been fighting ever since I got back from Italy with Oriana and Tara."  She said her younger sister's name in such a way that strongly suggested she blamed Tara for the situation that she was sitting in on some level.  

"It's not a big deal.  I'm just blowing off steam."

Billy shrugged.

"Ok, if you say so."

He then put both his hands under the table and lifted, tossing the entire thing, bottles, glass and all to the side of the room. Then he shrugged again.

"No big deal, just blowing off steam." He smiled to his daughter then and started to wheel his way toward the door. "I guess you don't need me then, I'll just send your boyfriend back in and you can do whatever you want. You should know though that I did send for a maid to come clean up tomorrow." He stopped at the door and spun in the chair.

"Of course, you could stop lying to me about this, and we could be honest with each other and maybe, just maybe we can both act like we love each other and don't want to be hurting any more. Maybe we can both tell each other how shitty we feel for letting out family down. Or maybe you can just listen to me tell you and you don't have to say a word. Maybe you can realize that for the first time in weeks I've left the house because I'm scared that I'm losing my daughter. Or you can sit there shocked..." He struggled his way forward in the chair as he put a single foot on the ground. "...as I show you..." He pushed through the pain, every fiber of his body screaming at him to stop what he was doing. His back aching like it was on fire. "... how much..." He kept pushing, and then suddenly, he was out of the chair, and for a split second, the sweat that had begun to pour down his face was worth it, "..you mean..." and then it was over, and his legs couldn't handle it any longer and he was falling.

He hit the ground with all of the force the table did a second ago. All he could do then was mutter to himself. "Fuck if I didn't try to show off to you hun. Well, maybe next time it'll be impressive. Shit. Help me up." He reached for his chair and for his daughter at the same time.

Brigitte raced over to her father, "Papa!  Oh Papa!  Your legs!"  She dropped like a stone to the floor beside him and threw her arms around his neck.  

Brigitte began to cry.  First, it was a sob of joy and then relief, and then crushing guilt.  Her whole body began to shake with the sobs and then, as she sniffled, she actually cried out.

"Je suis désolé ... je suis tellement désolé, Papa!"  She clung to Billy crying the worst, most truly heartfelt cry she'd had in years.  No crocodile tears, only ugly truth, "S'il te plaît, ne me déteste pas, Papa. Je t'aime ... Je suis désolé, tout est de ma faute et je suis désolé!"

Billy shook his head, but held his daughter fast to his side.

"Mon petit. I could never hate you. I am sad that you feel like I don't love you all the time with every fiber of my being. I could never hate you darling. I'm not happy that those men stole my Ange from me, them I will kill and gladly. But you? Never could I hate you or hurt you. You are the most precious to me. I chose to spend the rest of my life loving you. Never forget that."

He could do nothing to shun away the unbidden tears in his own eyes, and so he had no choice but to hold Brigitte to him, gently as he could so as not to hurt her already bruised form, and let them fall into her golden hair.

"I just... needed to feel..."  She didn't finish the thought but rest in her father's arms in silence for a long while right there on the floor.

"I went to there, so many times,"  she whispered.  "I'd sit in the parking lot and stare at that bridge, where you tried to save me.  I can remember it perfectly.  Everything about that place, the sounds of people screaming, the smell of ... her unwashed body." 

Brigitte's voice cracked.  "What they did to her..."

She sobbed. 

"I should have gone in.  I should have told her I loved her.  I should have gotten her out of that hell... I couldn't even make it past the door Papa!  And my ... lack of courage, its why she attacked you.  She must have thought you took me from her!  She was a good person, Papa.  I know she was and I'm sorry that I feel that way... I hate it.  I know how much you've suffered and how much she took from you.  She hurt you, she... she... she took your legs... and made you so angry and sad... and I... I can't ... I ca-"

She caught her breath, "How can I love her when she did this to you!?!  I barely knew her!  What kind of person am I?  You chose me!  You saved me, Papa!"  Her voice trembled.  "I'm sorry!"

Billy shook his head.

"That's where you are wrong Brigitte. Sarah didn't take anything from me, and she didn't make me sad or angry. Sarah saved me. And you should love her for that. You should also love her because she brought you into this world of ours, and that is no easy task. Look at Victoria, look at Gavin, look at what your mother has gone through to bring you siblings to us. It is not easy."

He took a breath and nodded.

"Yes, my legs are still recovering, and it will still be a very long time until they work again, but they will. God made me sit down for a bit to learn and to listen, to watch and to talk instead of just doing. He made me rely on you and your mother and your sister and Oriana and your team. He made me learn how to be patient, and understanding. Sarah helped God do all of this. Are you sorry that I am alive here with you now and that I did not die in Italy hunting down Mattaranzi? Because I would have. I would not have been as quiet or stealthy as you. I would have turned too many heads and been killed. That's what happened last time after all."

He smiled.

"Love is not something you should ever feel bad for giving freely. Never shutter your love. You and I are the same in that Brigitte. We will always love those around us, no matter what harm they may do. You and I know better. We know how cruel and harsh this world is. I love your mother, but she never was wanting for anything in the way that we did. She never had to try and fish garbage from a dumpster to feed herself, or wake her drunk mother just so she could be beaten before asking how to get to school. I wish I could have raised you from the start and shown you the kind of life you deserved, but I failed you there. I'm sorry Brigitte that I couldn't protect you from everything. But I will always love you and I will always be here to hold you in my arms."

He pulled his way to the char then and climbed up into it. As soon as he was settled he took Brigitte by the hand and pulled her into his lap, and then laid her head onto his chest.

"Come on, why don't you go to sleep for a bit. I will bring you to bed and you can sleep and in the morning I will make French Toast."

"Okay."  She said softly.  As Billy took her towards her room she asked him, "Have you told the others yet?  About your legs I mean?  Mom knows, right?  She's gonna be so happy."

Once at her bed, Brigitte climbed out and into it, kicking off her shoes.

"And don't worry about Thomas ... he's not... well, you didn't ruin anything.  There's no one serious in my life right now.  No one that isn't anything more than a distraction.  I... I was being stupid.  Thank you for stopping me."

She sighed.

"But really, Papa, maybe next time leave a guy outside the apartment so it's not weird?  I would have sent him away and come up to talk to you without any of the gun business.  Someone could have been hurt if he made the wrong assumption and tried to play hero or if I hadn't recognized your voice."

Billy nodded.

"Fine, but just so you know. You wanted to get hurt in that ring? I wanted to hurt someone too. So I wouldn't have felt bad at all if he decided to be dumb about things. I'm not always a good person Brigitte, and tonight, you sent him away and stopped me from being a bad one."

He rolled up next to her bed and then watched as she climbed up into it. Then he turned the wheelchair to face the window and settled in so he could sleep.

He was never going to get used to sleeping in a char like his fath... like Gavin did. Tonight though? watching over his daughter? He wasn't sure he was going to sleep at all.