Seeming to no longer care whether or not I'm in the mood to be in her presence, Dani takes a deep breath and crosses the room, her sudden proximity forcing me to sit on the edge of the bed as she takes my hand and attempts to examine it. I rip my hand from hers, glaring.

"I'm fine," I snapped.

"Your doorknob is covered in blood, and so are your sleeves and the front of your shirt," she sighs. "What happened?"

I finally catch full sight of her face, and guilt quickly creeps back into my chest. She looks pale and tired, as though she hasn't slept in the week I've been avoiding her. She reaches for my hand once more, but stops herself, clenches her hand, and sighs.

"It's nothing," I grumble, staring out the bedroom window.

Her touch is gentle as she once again grabs my injured hand, and I stiffen, wincing as blood oozes from the wound. "Let me." Her voice is barely above a whisper, and I hate how my chest tightens at the sound of it. Carefully, she cleans the wound and smoothes out the ripped skin to help it heal faster, presses a bandage against it, and wraps a layer of gauze around my palm to help stop the bleeding. She stands in front of me as she does so, my hand in hers as she finishes, and I can feel that she wants to say something, but I desperately wish for her to remain quiet.

"I know you're mad," she whispers, fighting to find her words.

"I'm not," I return. And I'm not. Not at her, or even at my sister for that matter.

I'm angry with myself.

I'm angry for tricking myself into believing that I could have any sort of normalcy in this fucked up world we live in. I'm angry for thinking that, one day, when this is all over, if we survive this entire ordeal, I could be happy with someone.

With her.

"You've been avoiding me," Dani says. "Just like when I got bit." Her tone isn't accusatory, but it stings nonetheless. "I just..." She sighs, gently squeezing my hand before letting it go. "I just wanted to talk."

It's hard to form the words I need for this conversation without letting my anger toward myself feed into it, and my silence makes her wince.

"Cass, please," she all but begs. "Can you just say something?"

"I'm not mad," I relent, but I can't even look at her. I can feel her shift in front of me as she kneels, leaning against my knee as she attempts to get my attention. Even in my periphery, I can see just how exhausted she is, the dark circles under her eyes looking as though they were drawn in with Sharpie, and her hair is more of a mess than normal. Her disheveled look feeds into my guilt, and I swallow hard.

Three months ago, she had to force herself to share the same space as me, and only came close when I was injured so she could patch me up, then she would retreat back to being at arm's length, just out of touch. Now, however, it's as if everywhere I turn, I'm almost running into her. Nearly everywhere I go, I could reach out a hand and she would be there. Normally, I would be excited at this development, but now…

"I'm not mad at you," I clarify softly. "I'm just... stressed."

"Stressed enough to isolate yourself from everyone else?"

I know she's not intentionally meaning to make me angry, but instinct hits me like a truck and I slip my hand out of hers. "I'm not isolating myself," I snap.

"You haven't said two words to your sister," she continues. "You're out all day, either hunting or on patrol. You barely eat, you sleep on your own, and you hardly talk to the rest of us."

"Who cares?"

"I do!" I blink at her, taken aback, and she seems just as surprised at her words as I am. "We all do," she adds quickly. "Cass, you've been isolating yourself for a whole week, and I'm - we're worried about you. I know you're angry, but-"

"I'm not angry," I hiss again, and Dani flinches at my raised voice. The action startles even myself, seeing her flinch at me like that, and as I remember all the times she did so when Leon had raised his voice around her, it finally sinks in. I want to punch myself for not noticing it before, and my anger simmers, though only a little bit. "I wouldn't be talking to you right now if I was angry with you," I say gently, fighting the urge to grab her hand.

We're quiet for a long while, with Dani kneeling in front of me, watching my face carefully, and I'm caught in an internal tug-of-war between wanting to hug her and wanting to push her away.

"Is this because of what Octavia did?" Her voice is quiet, and the way she watches me like a child waiting to be scolded for something she didn't do pulls at my heartstrings, but I can't help bristling at the mental image once more.

"You mean when I saw you two Frenching on the sofa?"

She sucks in a breath and wipes her mouth, shifting away from me as though I'll lash out at any second.

"Cass-"

Whatever she's about to say is interrupted by a loud siren that rips through the silent air outside, making us both leap to our feet, and my skin prickles at the sudden noise. It sounds almost like an evacuation siren, and as Dani and I rush to the window to see what's going on, we can see Sparrow and Josh rush toward the barn, their weapons in hand, but they stop just shy of the doors.

"What the hell is going on?!" Dani shouts over the noise.

An undertone can be heard just below the ear-splitting sound escaping from the barn, and my heart sinks as I realize it sounds like banging. I struggle to get the window open, and Dani has to help me push it up, but once it's open enough for me to stick my head out, I shout, "GET AWAY FROM THE BARN!"

It's too late.

The banging sound I hear quickly turns into a metallic shrieking as a cloud of dust bellows from the partly opened barn doors, and Sparrow and Josh stumble back, careful to steer clear of the cloud.

The siren stops, and the air stills once more. Save for the blood thundering in my ears, it's dead quiet again.

A high-pitched whine that makes my blood freeze in my veins sounds from the barn, and the boys sprint for the house.