Your Enemy Is My Enemy[Stella, Solomon]

Composure was never his greatest strength. He recognized that as well as anyone. Of course, that didn't mean he was a man prone to significant extremes of anger. No, he was an honest man who wore his emotions on his sleeves. He celebrated every victory as a young man should. He welcomed every day with an indomitable spirit, a ceaseless passion reminding him that he would one day rise to where he desired to be in life. He was blessed with wealth but felt his resources were better suited to aiding the world at large.

He genuinely cared for all of those who called him a comrade, a companion, and if he ever fell in love, he knew wholeheartedly that he would protect his beloved with his life---and yet, in the blink of an eye, it felt like his life had shifted from tranquil peace to veritable whirlwind. Nothing was in his control. He had hurt Violet with his words and left someone else to correct what he viewed solely as his error.

His composure was replaced with a fury so palpable that he pondered visiting Stella in the first place. Murderous thoughts flashed through his mind for the second time in his life. Ichigo Kurosaki no longer stood at the center of his boundless ire.

No, perhaps he thought him a pitiable man now. After all, he was a hero once, and though he knew not what led him to his current lot, perhaps he was in no position to judge the man. Even more, he never laid a hand on Stella. He was thankful for that. Of course, the same could not be said about the individual without a face. Pictures of her bruised and battered body, bound by rope. Mocking words celebrating their victory.

Mark my words. Should I ever find you, I will kill you

Solomon told himself those remaining words as he silenced the violent thoughts dancing in his mind, maintaining his composure as he stepped forward. Reflecting on these terrifying thoughts would do him no good, even more so when there was no current solution to his brutal imaginations. Furthermore, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten the nurses, to say nothing of the woman he was visiting today. Stepping into the room with a gift basket in hand, he flashed a warm and inviting smile, occupying a seat at her bedside. For her sake, that was the least he could do.

"There is nothing to apologize for. As terrifying as this ordeal has been for me, I'm relieved to see you're alive."

Solomon offered those assuring words as he set the basket at her bedside. Regardless of his inner turmoil, the last thing she needed to do was apologize for something outside her scope of experience. He lost far too many battles to understand how it felt to be overwhelmed by an experienced fighter. Pulling a cold drink and a loaf of sweetened bread - prepared by his butler - from the basket, he set them down on her lap as an offering. Ruffling her hair softly, he leaned against his chair.

"We can train as much as you want after you recover. I'm just happy you're not dead right now. I can't exactly hide how angry I am... seeing you like that, unable to do anything but hope you escaped... or that bastard had a change of heart and set you free."

"..."

Solomon paused at her words, his expression regretful as that pang of guilt assaulted his mind. For a moment, he wondered... Had his training proved inadequate? Did he prepare her for the field of battle? Did any lesson prove useful? Or, perhaps, she had been caught off guard and there was little reason to reflect so poorly on his efforts.

At any rate, he knew the mood might shift quickly, and he resolved to present his ideal expression here - one of reassurance and motivation. He softly reached out to hold her hand as he shook his head. He recalled his experiences during the battle with Ichigo, and decided to reflect on the positives he took from a battle where so many of his peers suffered, and he emerged as a survivor.

"In times like these, I tend to ask myself a similar question. When my fellow soldiers die, I always ask myself... should I have been the one to die? Or sacrifice myself to ensure their safety? Time and again, I've learned to look at it from a different perspective..."

He carefully held her hand as he continued, reminding her of her worth even in a difficult time.

"No matter what, as survivors, we must move on to honor their memory. We can lament. We can regret. We can even cry until we can cry no longer, but for their sake, it is pertinent we grow stronger, all so we might one day avenge them."

Of course, that wasn't to say he hadn't caught her descriptor of the woman who assailed her. He would be sure to engrave it within his mind. After all, if there was any possibility he found her, he had zero intention of letting her escape. No matter the resource to explore, he would stop at nothing to find her.

His expression was brave and solemn, a strong front to assure her that it was all right to release any emotion she was holding in. Even so, in actuality, that was all that it ultimately was - a defense mechanism to bear the painful scene as it unfolded.

Familiar with the grieving process by now, though not so immensely to this degree, he knew this form of release was necessary. Shedding tears for those who met their untimely end was not a sign of weakness, it was a sign that she was human - that a human heart still beat within her chest.

"There is no need for apologies, Stella. This matter was out of your hands, and you were merely doing your best to fight her and avenge your fallen soldiers. Cry on my shoulders as long as you need. I'm here. And I'll always be here."

"Again, you have nothing to apologize for, Stella. As I said, it is more than alright to shed tears. The last thing I want to see is you holding it in for my sake... or anyone else for that matter.

Solomon offered her a reassuring smile, softly patting her cheek as he allowed her a moment to regain any semblance of composure she desired to hold onto. To him, there was nothing to be ashamed about. She had experienced a devastating event and reacted accordingly. Anyone who might have thought otherwise simply didn't possess a heart.

No matter what, now, more than ever, he wanted to ensure that this event would never come to pass again. Whether training or teaching her a new technique, whether supporting her or assisting her on all her missions - wherever he was, he wanted to avoid seeing her shed so many tears.

"When your body has healed properly, know that I am but a call away. As much as I desire revenge, I acknowledge I don't have the immediate resources at hand to find her myself. Even so, that doesn't mean she'll be able to walk away freely. What I can do is ensure you're prepared next time... and that you can be the one to make her pay. I know you're capable of it. After all, I've always had high hopes for you as a Quincy, Stella. As a dear friend, I hope you know there is never a battle you have to fight alone."