A/N: What's up, bitches?

The concept of this comes from a bit of Jewish tradition, called tikkum olam, repairing the world. I'm not gonna go into tl;dr here about it- look it up if you want to learn more.

The actual title, however, while dealing with the concept of tikkum olam, comes from a Chaim Potok novel, The Promise. Go read it; you won't be disappointed. But read The Chosen first, as The Promise is the sequel.

Anyways, bits and pieces of this were attempts to do the Seven Deadly Sins challenge but the various versions- both from South and York's POV, never really worked for the challenge, and were simply too much material for a oneshot. This prologue, however, is something that came to me on the spot, and I must thank the amazing Melreincarna for helping me with the last section. The human Delta strikes once again!

I'm going to consistently update this for a change, mostly because about a third of it is already completed. And yes, I am in the middle of re-writing the second chapter of Beautiful Thieves, if anyone actually cares.

As always, reviews are love, and crit is more so.

Love possess not, nor will it be possessed, for love is sufficient unto love- Kahil Gibran

She wanted to walk away.

To say, "Fuck you," and never look back.

But looking into those eyes, those piercing blue eyes that reflected that held a pain and sorrow she didn't understand. A burning torture that she couldn't fix, no matter how much she tried. He was beyond fixing and that scared the shit out of her.

Watching him self destruct, writhing with whatever hell the AI was putting him through; she knew that she could never give up.

For there was still a spark within him; the only remnant left of what he used to be.

Love.

It was a weakness, binding, drowning, falling deeper into an uncertain chasm she couldn't see the bottom of.

Her weakness, for despite it all, she still loved him.

And that would prove to be her destruction.

Unraveling.

Sadness.

Pain.

Anger.

Pain that burned the fabric of his mind, a pain that threatened to rip his soul in two. A pain that lingered in his sleep; in his waking hours; with or without his helmet.

An unraveling he could never escape.

Screaming.

Crying.

Pleading.

Pacing.

Emotions that changed as quickly as the wind; images that flashed before his eyes no matter how much he begged it to stop.

Oh, how he begged!

But the AI had lost control of itself and was dragging Wash along the path of self destruction no matter how many times he tried to fight it.

The flashes were stronger now, more vivid- mental agony turned physical as he thrashed with each new horrible detail, losing who he was in the process.

In between the flashes was pure numbness- not even the bitterness he had first experienced, which had left a foul taste in his mouth, his lips tingling.

Now he would see himself speaking, moving, eating, but he could never recall what he had said.

He could see her- Cassie- her eyes filled with tears as she reached out, grasping onto something, anything of the person she loved. But he pulled away; so much he wished to explain but never could.

My love…

Until the day came when all was lost, and he was too, a blackness from which he would never emerge.

Delta whirred as he programming sorted his host's thoughts into some sort of organizational system. It was not required of him, and York certainly didn't order his AI to do so, but Delta felt it was the easiest way to analyze York's feelings.

Granted, he didn't understand most of them- the flighty ways of human emotion were foreign to him, for they were simply not logical. But it was his function to assist his host in battle, and he could not do so without giving York the clarity he so obviously required.

There was one emotion, no matter how much he tried to look at it from a human perspective, he would never fully understand.

Love.

He could understand the theories behind it; it was part of the greater complex human mating ritual. It also, again in theory, was to provide a more stable environment for the process of rearing offspring, drawing on the strengths and complementing the weakness of both sexes, and on the partners as individuals.

But sadly for the humans few things fit theory.

The other emotions were majorly constructive or destructive. It was Delta's job to utilize his objectivity to assist York in finding the benefits of the latter and maximizing the former.

But there inlaid the problem. Love's strengths and weakness were exactly the same.