"Nothing," he said, harshly and almost under his breath. "I don't trust you. I can't trust you. I can't trust anybody." He trembled hard. "I want to. So badly I want to, but I don't---I don't have that ability in me anymore. I don't think I can trust anyone. I can't even trust myself. How can I be expected to trust you?"<br/><br/>He wrapped his arms around himself. "You'll stand before me, but what good does that do for the people behind me? Assassins, Raven; none care about slipping a knife between your ribs from behind. Scruples don't exist, and the ends justify the means." He looked down, expression closed. "I learned that lesson a long time ago." He seemed lost in a memory.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He had been young. Six, or maybe seven. He was going through an affectionate period where he wanted nothing more than to hug and be cuddled, especially by his mother. He would go up to her and hug her by the legs, even when she was in the middle of something important.<br/><br/>Well, Coraline was tired of it. One day, when they were alone, she offered him a hug. Jakob was ecstatic and took it gladly.<br/><br/>His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. A knife had slid into his back, just past his kidneys. It was short and would do no permanent damage--or so the doctor explained later, when he awoke in the medical wing.<br/><br/>It was then that he learned he could trust no one. All intentions were to be regarded with suspicion, and everyone was an enemy. Even family.<br/><br/>Especially family.</span>