"Bella Donna, we have to talk." Remy said.

Bel looked up from the book she was reading. "Well hello to you too. You ever hear of knocking?"

Remy shut the door and sat down on the chair at Bel's desk. "I'm serious, Bel. We have a problem."

"When do we ever not have a problem, Remy? Look who you're talkin' 'bout." Bella Donna replied, putting down the book and looking at him.

"Oui, I know. But dis isn' jus' a normal problem, Bel. It's a problem dat needs de attention of both of us, now." Remy sighed. "I hate to tell you dis, it's only gon' make you mad, prob'ly at me, mais, I can' get 'round it. I walked into de kitchen a few minutes ago an' I found Gris, Fifolet an' Questa tryin' to kill Genard an' Emil. Now, I don' know 'bout you, but I t'ink dat's a problem!"'

Bella Donna looked at her ex-husband and sighed. "What d'you want me to do, talk to dem?"

"I don' know, I guess so. I already talked to dem, but I'm getting de impression dey're not gon' listen to me. Maybe dey'll listen to you. De bottom line is, I don' want what happened today to happen again."

"I'll do what I can, mais I can' really promise much." Bel told him with a smile. To an extent the blonde-haired assassin still loved Remy, and she would do what she could to help him even if it wasn't easy.

"T'anks Bel. Even a little bit's better den not'ing."

After Remy left the room again, Bella Donna sat on her bed for a long while, lost in thought. Things had been touch-and-go in the Guild since the unification, and convincing the assassins to leave the thieves alone was going to be easier said than done. She knew how the assassins thought, being one herself, and she knew they got a weird sort of pleasure out of beating up on the thieves, especially Emil, because he often instigated it himself, giving them an excuse.

Bel also knew the assassins didn't like the unification and were only going along with the truce because she asked them to. The thieves knew this as well, somewhat, and they tried to keep the peace as best they could. While Bella Donna herself, as well as Singer, tried to do this as well, knowing it was in the best interests of the Guild, the three male assassins, Gris, Fifolet and Questa, had a hard time with it.

The rivalry, the hatred, between the thieves and the assassins had been part of their way of life for over a century. Bel knew it was unthinkable and unrealistic for anyone to assume that just because the two Guilds had joined into one, they would automatically lay their differences aside and be friends. Bel knew they would never truly be friends; the assassins had done too many bad things to the thieves in the past for the thieves to go along with anything other than a fragile truce.

Bella Donna sighed and got up off her bed, intending to go and talk with the other assassins about how they were going to make it a new rule not to hurt the thieves. "Dis is so not gon' be easy…" she said softly to the ceiling before she left her room.

While Bella Donna was looking for the assassins, the thieves (minus Genard and Emil, who were at Tante Mattie's house) were gathered in Mercy's room, discussing what was going on. Needless to say they weren't all that impressed with the events or with the assassins themselves.

"I can' b'lieve dey did dat!" Theoren exclaimed. "Dis Guild isn' s'posed to be tryin' to kill each other!"

"We're tryin' so hard to make dis unification work, an' it's startin' to look like we shouldn' even be botherin' wit' it. Dey obviously don' want it." Claude commented.

"You t'ink it's obvious to you, you should try bein' us for day." Genard joked as he and Emil joined them. "We don' know what we did, exactly, but dey really don' like us!"

Emil was strangely quiet; he just sat down by Mercy and wrapped his arms around himself, silent. It was hard for his friends to read the look in his eyes, but he didn't really want them to anyway. He was hurting, physically and emotionally, and he didn't want to talk about it. He knew the others could see the dark purple bruises on either side of his neck from where Gris tried to strangle him. They couldn't be hidden. What his friends couldn't see were the massive bruise on his back and the three cracked ribs, which were the result of his getting thrown across the room and hitting the refrigerator.

Mercy felt the hurt vibe radiating from her young friend and put her arm across his shoulders, giving him a little squeeze. He let out a pained sigh that seemed to come all the way from the tips of his toes, turned and gave her a faint but grateful smile.

Genard, aside from the gash on his arm that he knew was going to leave a scar, was fine, just a little angry at what had happened. He knew Emil was much more hurt than he was letting on, and that made him angry too. Like the others, he was starting to get more than a little angry that Gris kept singling Emil out the way he did. Sure, they all knew that over half the time, Emil started it by saying something stupid, but Gris really took things too far and it bothered them.

"So are we going to get them back for this, or what?" Zoe asked. "I mean, they're not going to get away with it, are they?"

Genard shrugged. "Remy said he'd talk to dem, an' I know he's getting Bel involved, but dat's it as far as I know."

"I don' t'ink dat's enough." Mercy commented, keeping her arm protectively around Emil.

"We can' do anyt'ing else. If we do, we'll jus' be stoopin' to deir level, an' dat would make us no better den dey are. An' we know we are better den dem." Theoren said.

"Dat's true." Claude replied thoughtfully. "I jus' hope Remy an' Bel can make dem smarten up. If dey can', I t'ink we should stage a revolution an' break 'way from dis unification. For our own safety if for not'ing else."

A little while later, the thieves broke up their meeting, deciding it would be better to get a good night's sleep before finding out what kind of luck Bella Donna had had in getting the assassins to back off. Emil had remained silent for the duration of the meeting, resting his head on Mercy's shoulder and listening to what was being said around him. When the meeting broke up, he slid off the bed and followed Genard and Zoe out of the room, still silent. The only sound he made was a slight groan at the pain moving caused his back and ribs.

The door closed behind him with a soft click. Theoren, Claude and Mercy sat there and looked at each other, matching looks of worry and concern on their faces.

"I don' t'ink he can take much more of dis…" Mercy commented quietly, tracing the pattern on her bedspread with her finger.

Theoren glared at the ceiling. "If Gris lays on more hand on dat kid, I swear, I'll give him reason to wish he was dead. True, Emil can be obnoxious, but he does not deserve to be treated de way Gris has been treatin' him."

"I'm worried 'bout him." Claude said simply. "I t'ink dis whole t'ing wit' Gris has been takin' more of a toll on him den any of us realized."

"He looks tired. More tired den a kid his age should look." Theoren said.

"He needs us, guys. Whether he'll talk about what's goin' on in his head or not, he needs us." Mercy instructed. "It's up to us to take care of him, now dat Jean-Luc's gone. You know after Emil's family was killed, Jean-Luc always took care of him. Now it's our turn."

"Maybe we should go see if he's okay…" Claude returned.

The room was dark. This made sense; it was nighttime and the lights were off. Emil had turned them off for a reason. He wanted to go to sleep. However, he was starting to think that wasn't going to happen. He sat on his bed, face buried in his hands, back and ribs aching with every movement, tears running down his cheeks.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting like that; nor did he know when he was going to be able to stop crying. He felt so helpless, so alone. He didn't know what else to do. In his desperation the tears just came, and he welcomed them, trying to find solace in the fact that he could at least comfort himself.

The door opened and closed again, but Emil didn't notice. He continued to think he was alone in his dark room until he felt the three other thieves around him on the bed. Claude flicked on the lamp on the table beside the bed and gave Emil a lopsided grin.

"Hey there, kiddo." He said, reaching over and wiping a tear off Emil's cheek.

Theoren and Mercy, one on either side of Emil, wrapped their arms around their shaking friend and held him, trying to calm him.

Emil, valiantly attempting to catch his breath and control his tears, looked at his three friends through his water-logged blue eyes and sniffled through his sobs,

"I…can'…do dis any…more…I can'…take it…I jus' can'."

"Shhhh…" Mercy soothed, running a hand through Emil's thick red hair, looking at Theoren and Claude over his head. He was emotionally and physically drained from what had been happening, they all saw that now.

Theoren, feeling an immense hatred for Gris that he had never felt before, pulled Emil closer to him and did his best to say something that would comfort the young thief.

"Emil, we're here, kid. We're not gon' leave you. An' if we have any say in de matter, you'll never have to take any of dat nonsense from Gris or anyone else again. I promise."

Emil smiled slightly at what Theoren said, but the smile faded quickly as the tears started up again. He was just so tired of it all. Sobbing quietly, he sunk against Theo's chest in a silent plea for help, unaware that his three friends were sitting there wondering if they were going to be able to help him without killing a certain member of the assassins guild.