Searing, scorching, blinding pain wracked his every nerve. Within himself, he recoiled from it. From the caustic pain of which the likes he had never previously experienced. From the wholly startling realization that he lived. This indisputable fact was made manifest by the erratic cadence of his pumping heart — by the shaky rise and fall of his chest. This pain was different and so beautifully alive.

To say that the dead felt no pain was inaccurate, and laughably so. For in that dark place just beyond the material plane of existence, he had suffered. That pain, however, differed from this completely. As his body adjusted to the now foreign sensation of life, he thought hard. This, he had always been taught, was an impossibility — the dead were just that. The reasoning, or lack thereof circled in his head, causing more pain.

He supposed that one did not cut and then make whole the threads of life without consequence. In this errant thought he found acceptance. Actions came with consequences.

Violet eyes shot open to regard the waking world once more. His vision blurry and sluggish. It took more time than he would've truly liked just to make out more distinct shapes. His eyes locked onto a hint of movement in his peripheral. Squinting, he peered at the shrouded, mysterious figure.

"Ah, good. You're finally awake."

This figure - no, woman, seemed markedly familiar, from her somewhat harsh, no-nonsense tone, to the odd hunch in the way that she stood. Still, his vision was not yet true, so he could only suspect.

"Wh-where am I?" He choked back a cough, voice hoarse from lack of use, then reached up to rub at his head.

The pain still lit his nerve endings on fire, and the force of the cough rattled his head in a decidedly uncomfortable way.

"Come now Facilier. You're in the bayou — my home."

The realization struck him like a ton of bricks.

"Mama Odie," he hissed out through clenched teeth. His vision was slowly returning to him, and now everything became clear. "You did this?"

She cocked a brow at him, swaying as she navigated blindly around the cracks in her floorboards. He counted himself fortunate that the pallet he laid across was over the more structurally sound portion of the boat.

"If you mean to ask if I saved you, yes." She replied sagely, seeming unfazed by his apparent distaste.

Various emotions assailed him at her answer. His head shook.

"Why?" The single word was all he could muster. He found that he lacked the strength to display the venom that he would have in his previous life.

"Because you have a greater purpose. A price that must be paid for what you did."

Irritation flared as his features twisted into a dark scowl.

"Don't talk to me about payment," he ground out. "You can't even fathom the pain I was put through — the pain I'm in now."

Silently, she raised a wrinkled hand, and shook her head.

"No, Charles. The pain you feel now is self-inflicted, as was what you suffered on the other side. Now, you must atone for the wrongs you did on this earth. You breathing comes with a cost as well."

He balked at the familiar use of his name, momentarily thrown before adopting a glower.

"I told you never to call me that. Charles is dead."

She appeared unimpressed with his petulant outburst, merely shaking her head.

"Charles is laying on the floor of my home. The Doctor is dead."

He winced. Was it true? Where was his shadow?

"Yes," she confirmed. "You've lost what you had. But, not permanently. I can teach you the proper way — how to pull your magic from a place of light."

She paused, blind eyes seeming to pierce through his soul, even from behind her sunglasses.

"Remember that everything has a price, Charles. Even the light."

He scowled, fatigue suffusing him completely. Though he had no desire to hear her, his limbs had other opinions. So he continue to lay prone on the mat with closed eyes, not even raising his head as she stood over him.

"You speak much of prices, old woman. Just get to the point."

She watched him silently, unnervingly so.

"You must find love within a year's time."

His eyes shot open, head canting violently to look at her with slackened jaw.

"Wh-what?" He sputtered.

"You heard me — love. True love."

"How?"

Mama Odie shrugged unhelpfully.

"That's up to you. But you'd better hurry. A year isn't very long."

This whole situation was becoming rapidly comical. Surely, she was joking. As if reading his mind, she spoke up.

"It's no trick. You may spend the remainder of the day here to get your bearings, but then you must get back to the city."

He had no choice, as unappealing as both prospects were. He nodded his acquiesce, and laid his head back down. This disturbing revelation would have to wait.

Until then, he fell into a fitful sleep.