Jacob could remember it all. He wished he could forget. He'd tried so hard, especially at night, when it was the worst. Once he had let himself fall into habits of drinking with Jerseyboy but that hadn't lasted for long. It frightened him too much to have his mind stolen from him, especially after all that'd happened. Tonight was like any other. He couldn't sleep. Even with the problems with Typhoon resolved and having made a friend there, it'd all dug up memories he didn't care to relive. He could still remember the anger in him. It'd burned worse than the fire that'd consumed his flesh and fur. He'd been furious and, though he knew he had a right to be, he hated the thoughts that'd come to him. That was why he ran. He knew now what he was capable of, or at least what his mind was capable of dreaming up, He was just glad the woman hadn't found that, that she'd only latched onto the fire. Since then, the smoke had come to him more frequently and in greater amounts but he was used to that by now. No, what was worse was what he saw before him. Being kidnapped had dragged up something worse than memories; the guilt that ate at him for being a coward.

Whether or not it was true, he blamed himself for all that'd happened. If he had paid more attention, he might have been able to predict the fire that took his flesh and took his Pa's life. If he hadn't been so proud and left the city sooner, his Ma would still be alive. Then there was the fact he couldn't even bear to tell his Babbo of all that'd happened. All he knew was that Jacob had moved due to his Pa and Ma's deaths. He didn't know of the bandages or his limp or the hallucinations and night terrors that plagued him. Then again, no one knew of the hallucinations. He knew Jersey must suspect the night terrors. They'd lived together for quite some time now and Jacob was sure his lack of sleep and the mumbling and sleep walking was obvious. He supposed his brother was able to dismiss it easily. After all Jacob had been through, such things were to be expected.

Tonight, though, the fire didn't plague him. No, instead he saw the man that he'd told to run. That he'd threatened, that he'd held on the ground and wanted to choke the life from. He hadn't done any of it and the thoughts terrified him but that didn't make it alright. At least his figure didn't speak. Sometimes the others would. His Pa and Ma would beg for help or cry that they loved him. His Babbo would hurl insults at him about running away rather than facing their enemies. His Babbo wasn't a cruel man, at least not to Jacob. He'd always been gentle and kind but the hallucinations brought out Jacob's deepest fears and he wouldn't be able to stand the way Vito was sure to look at him when he saw what he'd become. A coward, dashing from one place to the next in a desperate attempt to find sanctuary.

The fire burned around him and he hadn't been able to bring himself to go outside all day. He needed to move but the burning figure of his Pa stood at the entrance and he couldn't bring himself to face it, not after being captured, not after having his bandages and sweater torn from him. Those were the only things that brought him any peace. He'd seen the way she looked at him. She'd been disgusted. He knew he shouldn't base his value off what a woman who captured him thought but he'd seen the look on her face. How many people would look at him like that? The only one he could trust was Jersey, he was sure of it.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't just sit here and feel bad for himself. He couldn't let the fire consume him. Not anymore. He needed to make it go away. He let his eyes flicker to his Pa, who still stood at the entrance. He forced himself up and let his paws wrap around the guitar. He'd seen a song some time ago that he'd told Jersey he wanted to sing with him. Maybe he'd practice that so he could play it a little better the next time they decided to try it. So, he began to strum the chords. It wasn't meant to be preformed that way but this was all he had so it would do. As he closed his eyes and listened to the music, the roar and heat of the fire began to fade. It wasn't gone, it would never be, but it was more manageable with his eyes closed and a guitar under his paws. "We may not yet have reached out glory, but I will gladly join the fight and when our children tell our story, they'll tell the story of tonight..." he sang the words, soon replacing the words Jersey would need to sing with chords before he'd continue, "Well, let that lonely feeling wash away..."