Warning: This is really drastic, I'm sorry

Also, if you haven't read the other FanFic posts in this series, I suggest you do, or it won't make much sense.

It was four days after the wedding. Picket had kissed Emma and walked down the halls, outside, and to where the other Fowlers were already training.

“Ladybug,” Helmer scowled, “you’re late. You missed the first exercise.”

“Sorry, Master.”

“It’s fine just join the others.” Picket did. They were resting and stretching. Ever since the wedding, Helmer worked practices quite differently. He assigned them each a task and after which they rested for a little before the next task was demanded of them.

Picket realized that, yet again, Jo looked more tired and beaten-up compared to Cole.

“You okay, Jo?” Picket asked.

“Sure, I’ll be fine.” He warily looked to see if Helmer was in hearing range before he continued. “You’re lucky, Pick. I came five minutes late and…” He didn’t finish.

“It’s probably just favoritism,” Cole suggested. “We all know Picket and Master Helmer are quite close.”

“Or it could be hatred,” Jo added, sulkily.

“I’m sure–” Picket started, but stopped himself because Helmer was walking towards him.

“Enough chit chat,” He scowled. “I need one of you to do this. Any volunteers.” Picket raised his hand but Helmer ignored him. “How about you, Jo?” Helmer asked, a slightly cruel smile edging on his face.

“Yes, Master,” Jo answered softly. Jo walked over to Helmer, his head down.

“Take this.” Helmer tossed him a sword. Jo underestimated its weight and staggered to catch it. “Is it too heavy?” Helmer asked.

“No, sir.”

“Good. Now follow my lead.” Helmer went through one immensely complex sword maneuver after the next. Jo could hardly remember it all, much less perform it with the heavy sword. No matter how hard he tried, Jo couldn’t do it correctly.

Helmer grabbed Jo’s wrist so hard that Jo was forced to drop the sword. Instead of letting go, he tightened his grip to the point where Jo dropped down in pain. Helmer still would not let go.

“Master!” Picket tried, put Helmer shot him a look that silenced him.

“You two should leave,” Helmer said to Cole and Picket. The two took a step back and stayed silent, but didn’t leave.

“Now,” Helmer continued, looking back at Jo. “If you can’t use a sword, what can you do?”

“I can use my bow,” Jo pleaded.

“No, no you can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Jo said. “It was an accident.”

“I don’t think we can afford those kinds of accidents.” Helmer drew his sword.

“Master, no!” Picket yelled running towards him. Helmer turned on him. His sword almost slicing him. Picket backed away, he didn’t know what to do. Cole had already run off to find help. He was helpless. But not as helpless as Jo.

“Please, Master,” Jo pleaded, trying unsuccessfully to escape Helmer’s strong grip. “Please don’t. I’m sorry. But please–”

“Silence!” Helmer yelled. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“But if you can’t use this hand correctly,” Helmer continued, raising his sword. “You don’t deserve it.”

All Picket could do was look on as his terrified friend braced for the sword’s impact.