Author's Notes: I'm working on so many things at the moment. So, you know, I decided to start something new. Give me a second (hits head hard). Oh well, here's the first chapter: Oh yes, in this Crona is a guy. Why? Mostly because I said so. Yes, I know there is more proof he is a girl, and near the end I've got to say I lean more toward he is a girl. But I've decided that for my needs he's a guy. Deal with it. Why? Because there is enough unclear fog that I can't say for sure which he is for sure. Also, I've only seen the anime, the manga actually kind of bored me.
Music: What a Shame by Shinedown
Summary: Ragnarok, Ragnarok is gone and Crona is now left with a weapon who wishes she is witch, and who is determined to kill their parents, and not knowing whether his mother or former friends are going to be the death of him first. Combine that with a little romance, a lot of blood, questionable morals, and a new interest in anatomy and Crona is way over his head.
Warning: this chap not much but an OC, whole thing… yaoi, smut (maybe), violence, yuri, cross-dressing, gender confusion in general, some characters acting like close-minded pricks, abuse, neglect, general family problems/hatred. AU, but after what will be up to you to decide.
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Not mine or there'd actually be strong female character. Belongs to Atsushi Okubo and published by Square Enix apparently (shrugs).
Chapter One
As the Sky Falls
Crona curled a little around his stomach. It hurt. He had suffered so long and when he finally had found a semblance freedom he was looking for, all he felt was hurt and empty. Ragnarok had been part of his life since he was a child, as much as he had resented the Demon Sword, he had also been a constant companion. Now he was gone, driven to pieces by a betrayed Maka and Soul. Crona shivered, and here he was, now making sure that the Sword would never return to his life.
Lavender hair stuck to the young man's face as he forced himself forward. Why did she have to live in such a remote and unfriendly area? He wasn't sure how he was going to deal with her as it was. He had met her, briefly, he didn't remember much about her, and most of what he did know his mother had told him. She was the daughter of a powerful witch who had interest similar to his mother but with little power of her own and had isolated herself away from the rest of the world to concentrate on "body" magic during her "trial" period. The last he'd heard of this specific witch was she that she was still trying to learn the basics, but had perfected spells that specifically had to do with the body, which he supposed was "body" magic. Maybe she could fix him.
"Who's there…" the voice was shaky, cautious and shivering. Crona almost sighed in relief. There had also been a rumor that the witch had killed several of her sisters to help expand her powers, but it seemed that the other was just cautious, so scared by her lack of power she hid herself in the desert.
"Listen, I've got some nasty roots here that'll force you into your animal and you will stay that way until you find someone else. So I suggest you leave," hissed the witch, though the threat was ruined a little by the slight hitch in her voice. Crona laughed weakly anyway. He wouldn't turn into anything. He wasn't a witch.
"Who's is… who are you?" Crona looked up through sweaty bangs to see the witch crouched a few feet from him just staring.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she was trying to sound forceful, and her tone pitched slightly at the end with fear. Perhaps his black dress was making him appear as an enemy.
"Crona, I need your…" his mouth was gummy and dry. The words stuck with a darkening vision. The world had stopped spinning and his breathing caught.
"No don't…" but fainting was fun, and the sand would probably be more comfortable then some of the areas he had passed out in. Hopefully the witch wouldn't kill him on principle.
--
His head hurt. Why did he get a headache after passing out? No matter what, even if he hadn't hit his head, he always had some kind of headache. It seemed like a requirement at this point. Now his mouth was a desert, his body couldn't decide if it was hot or cold, and he had a headache. There was probably more wrong with him, but those were the ones he could diagnose at the moment.
"Are you really Crona?" he turned. She was mildly pretty, reminded him of Maka a little. She had long blonde hair, bushy, with two small braids done from the bangs and trailing back. Her face was rounded, checked with pimples just below the surface. She had red eyes and a flattened nose. Her clothes were rather standard for a witch, black with a pointy hat, small black gloves, a puffy purple-undersided skirt, multicolored leggings and standard high buckled boots. "My face is a hell of a lot more north, though at least you're not looking at my cleavage."
Crona turned an interesting color, and then buried himself under the covers.
"I don't know how to deal with something like that," he shouted and squirmed under the covers in protest. He almost thought he'd hear Ragnarok's voice telling him something like he could kill her, or picking on him, but there was nothing, his blood didn't even flow quicker in his veins.
"Hey, I didn't even do anything why are you crying!" and now the witch was getting worked up. "I know! I'll make some tea! Tea fixes everything! At least now I know you're Crona, with an answer like…"
And she fell on the ground.
"Are you alright?" asked Crona peaking from his covers to see the underside of her skirt. He faltered; face tensing as he hid again. "I don't know how to deal with it!"
"At least I'm wearing leggings, or you'd have… Oh, please get out of the covers, you have to drink something for the dehydration!" said the witch. "Come on, you remember me, I'm Death Light, remember? We met when we were young; our bitch mothers hate each other because they're trying for different thing the same way."
"You remember me?" asked Crona, sticking his head from the covers. The witch was dusting off her skirt and gave him a smile before sitting back in the chair by the bed.
"Of course, we had quite the adventure when we were little," said the witch picking up a glass of water off the stand. It shook in her hands as she handed it over to Crona. It only shook a little less in his hands.
"I remember that," he said with a small smile. It had been the only time someone had forced him to deal with a situation without resorting to madness, in fact, when he had started to slip Death Light had slapped him until Ragnarok was out cold. "When you did that trick, I thought that'd you'd turn out to be a witch even more powerful than my mom."
"Well, my specialty will always be with the body, but I use my powers for more benign reasons. Mostly helping medically for weary travelers, though there is a group nearby that relies on my magic from time to time. Now Crona, what brings you here? Not trying to recruit me for your mother are you? I'll just disappear," warned Death Light with a slight smile while her hands strangled her skirt. Crona smiled nervously and some of the water slipped between his teeth. He swallowed.
"No, I came to ask a favor," said Crona and then thought about the right way of asking.
"Ah, well, let's see, the last time I saw you there was some sort of Sword inside of you," said the girl and she fished out a cigarette. "You mind if I smoke?"
She was still shaking a little. Crona shook her head.
"Well," Death Light took a drag of smoke and let it pass her lips slowly. "I don't think there's much I can do in that situation. He's bound to you for life; you can't survive without the other. I could try to take some his power away so he can't bully you so much I suppose."
The cigarettes seemed to be helping her to relax. Her fingers only trembled ever so slightly and her gaze seemed leveled and calculating looking down at the technician.
"He's dead," said Crona and tried to stop the tears that wanted to fall. "They killed him when they found out I was still working for my mother."
"Who found out?" asked Death Light, her entire body looked tense.
"Maka, Shinigami, Soul, technicians, weapons…"
"One second, that's the enemy, what were you doing with them?" demanded the witch.
"Yes they were trying to teach me how to be a good meister," said Crona while fiddling with the sheets.
"While you were spying for your mother," Death Light clarified and then sighed. "How did they find out? Your mother tell them it was you as an experiment? Or did that demon sword of yours do something stupid?"
"They saw her or something. Ragnarok said some really stupid things, but if he hadn't I don't think I would have gotten away alive," said Crona and then shivered. He could only imagine the death that would have awaited him at their hands. He would have been defenseless, and they were too angry to worry about the ethics of torturing someone.
"Hm, well, I'll see what I can do, for the moment rest and drink, not too much, I don't want you vomiting all over my covers," said Death Light standing. She stared down at the sad looking Crona for a second and then sighed. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Crona's forehead. "Don't worry about it so much. You'll find working without anyone is much easier, trust me."
Crona didn't feel reassured. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't know how to deal with something like that. It had been so long since he had been alone. The very first memories were still with Ragnarok, bursting himself from Crona's back and besieging him with abuse and pain. He had grown used to it. It was something of a routine that he could easily fall into. What would he do without the Demon Sword? He was a meister; he needed his weapon to defend himself. Without a weapon he was useless, left open to attacks from anywhere. It was crazy, especially getting rid of the black blood, but what else could he do? He wasn't even sure if it was death he feared anymore, it felt like something more sinister then that. But it couldn't be madness, he knew what that felt like. A creeping along his back that set his toes curling and his hair on end.
He'd been stupid, and Maka had been so upset with him. It probably hadn't helped that Ragnarok had to then give his two cense about the situation. It sucked, really, he found a family member that he might be able to get along with and what did he do? Screw it up royally.
"Hey, come on Crona, you need to drink something," the black blooded boy blinked in surprise as the cup was put in front of him. He drank it greedily, not realizing how thirsty he was until the cool liquid touched his parched lips. "No, I'm sorry, but we have to be careful with this. Give the water time to settle. And keep the covers on; you'll need them when you feel cold again."
"Cold?" asked Crona as sweaty fell in rivers down his body.
"You've been having hot and cold flashes all afternoon. That battle did a number on you, it's surprising that you made it this far to be truthful," said Death Light and brushing at Crona's forehead with a towel. "It looks like I'll have to put you up for a few more days before I can take the black out of your blood."
"You can take away the madness?" asked Crona excitedly.
"I'm not sure about that," said Death Light, not looking at him and her hands tapping against the places she smoothed down methodically. "But I think that I can get rid of the black. I'm not positive mind you. I may just end up draining you of all your blood. The black might have combined too permanently with your blood. It's your call."
"I want it gone," said Crona with a sigh, looking with even saggier eyes than normal at the ceiling. "I don't want to deal with it in my blood anymore."
"I can understand that, I suppose, and on the off chance you do die it doesn't sound like I'll have to worry about too many people looking for you… alive anyway," said Death Light with light humor. She ground some green herbs into the water and pressed the glass against Crona's lips again. "Well, we'll see how you feel in the morning. The sun's just falling asleep now."
"No food?" asked Crona turning to see Death Light standing, her gaze still off to the side.
"No, not good. When you leave I'll give enough food with instructions on the dehydration. Some of it might be hard to follow because of your journeying," said Death Light and he noticed that she was taking out another cigarette.
"I can't stay here?" asked Crona, not actually expecting much out of the witch.
"You want to bring your troubles to my doorsteps?" asked Death Light without turning back to him.
"I might have brought it just by being here," said Crona grabbing at his arm. "And I might be able to help?"
"Oh, really?" asked Death Light, her voice crystallizing slightly. "I suppose that Ragnarok had no control over how you moved."
Crona blushed and pushed himself under the covers. He hadn't expected anything different, not really. Death Light placed the glass on the table next to him with a slight click and was out the door with a light thump. She probably wanted to go out for a quick smoke, settle her nerves again. It seemed that Death Light had taken to depending only on herself and living a life of seclusion. While he had been left to a life with his mother and Ragnarok constantly as his companions. Whether for bad or good he had never learned how to be alone.
"I don't know how to deal with this," he said weakly into his covers. He couldn't cry, that would waste water anyway. At the worse Death Light would throw him out as soon as she got rid of the black blood. At best she would give him a day to rest and then throw him out the day after. Sleep was a covering, away to escape from the bleeding moon.
"Hey come on Crona, I gotta get you water and prepped," Crona looked up in confusion. Maka's voice and wasn't this soft or shaky. A witch's hat made him start suddenly. He looked up to see a surprised and slightly shaky Death Light looking down at him in surprise. Right, his friends had found him out after Stein had gone insane. Ragnarok had been destroyed; he was now making sure that that was true.
"Thank you Death Light," said Crona and gave her a small smile and drank down the water before the witch took the cup with an irritated. Right, she had told him not to drink too quickly. But he was so thirsty. "Do I really need all these blankets?"
"Just in case," said Death Light shaking her head. She pushed them down and started tugging up on Crona's dress. Crona turned an angry red and started pushing back on the hands. "Stop that, you have boxers on right? I need access to your skin to make this work."
"You know how to fix it already?" asked Crona his eyes looking away as he felt a cool breeze blow against him.
"I think," said Death Light and moved took off her gloves. She placed her cold hands on his ankles and started to rub. "It's the best I think I'll ever come up with. I know the body inside and out, and the longer we wait the better chance that it will build enough for Regnarok to reappear, and even if you end up missing him, I think the world is better off without the Demon Sword."
"You're not a very good witch, not wanting to stir things up," mumbled Crona as the witch started moving up his body. Her eyes fixed on the section her hands were rubbing against.
"If I was a good witch, I would be part of a coven, have joined your aunt Anachre or whatever your aunts name is, or at least do something malevolent with the spells at my disposal," said Death Light and then chuckled, her hands moved to press just inside Crona's boxers. "Damn, and here I was half expecting frilly girly underwear with that dress."
"That's not a nice thing to say," muttered Crona and tried to keep his gaze away from the pressing hands. They weren't arousing or anything, each time she ended there was a sharp pinch in the area she was touching, but it was still a girl who was touching him so thoroughly.
"How did your friends react to you wearing that horrid dress anyway? You tell them it was for some weird religious reason?" Death Light still didn't seem to be paying attention to him. It was odd, he wondered if she talked to everyone who came for help this way. Just keep talking to their body parts and watch how they respond. Maybe she pretended whatever body part she was talking to was responding. She seemed jumpy around people, but confident in her knowledge of the body.
"I think they thought I was a girl," said Crona trying to lie completely still as the fingers traveled under his armpits. "My mother might have said I was her daughter. So the dress was rather common place."
"You're kidding me," Death Light paused with her hands and giggled at Cron'a s arm and then picked up the black blooded boys wrist and started pushing in. "Though that's not too surprising, your mother always did want a daughter."
"And she got me instead," said Crona sadly. Death Light stopped him from curling and he was looking into those blood eyes and a sort smile on her lips.
"She should have realized the gift she had. At least she won't trouble you anymore," said Death Light and then took Crona's other arm.
"I doubt that, she'll see it that way. She'll probably hunt me down," said Crona miserably.
"She won't find you if you hide yourself well. And don't whine about her snakes. My mother's animal is the fly and she hasn't found me yet, and believe me, after that last fight she's been looking for a while," said Death Light with a nervous laugh.
"But I found you," pointed out Crona in confusion.
"Yes well, I can whip up a spell like that. Yours will actually probably be a bit more useful as long as you don't settle in a populated area," said Death Light with a small smile. "See, mine let's people in need find me. So, yes, if my mother had some physical ailment that I could treat, then she could in most likely find me. But for you. I'd suggest settling down somewhere overseas, change your hair color, get colored lenses if you can, change your name, your background, and as much of your personality as you can manage, and don't get close to any witch or shifty character. Also either go for densely populated or practically deserted. Don't trust those small towns, they can have some seriously messed up shit going on in the background and they will drag you down with them."
"So, you think this'll work, since I found you?" asked Crona nervously.
"There is a good chance," said Death Light. "Now I need you to relax." She reached the juncture between the neck and shoulder and pulled. Suddenly he couldn't feel anything below his neck. "Stop hyperventilating, and don't tell me you don't know how to deal with this or I will seriously duck tape your mouth closed."
"How is this going to work?" asked Crona instead, his eyes shaking since his body couldn't.
"I'm going to send a potion through your blood stream; it will catch the black blood and bring it to your right wrist where the cleared blood will be able to move forward, the black should have attached itself to the potion. You'll be low in blood, but I should be able to replace it. I'm going to be hurrying the process a bit so I can coach you on how to recover and put that spell on you in the morning and send you on your way," said Death Light, dragging out a bucket of dark green goop that looked like pounded spinach with a touch of olive. Smelled like it to. She then took out an empty bucket and put it on the floor. "Now, before I do this I need you to chew on these until you're to numb to do so anymore. Don't worry about feeling any of this; you'll be so out of it that even if you do die it'll be like falling into a drugged sleep nice and peaceful."
Crona sighed but did as he was told. Death Light didn't want him to stick around, the longer he was there the more chance of his mother tracking him down and giving away Death Light's current position away. He knew that, it's just he really didn't know how to deal with being alone, and no matter how many times he told himself that she would throw him out he couldn't help but hope she would change her mind, let him stay, give him some sort of job. She didn't even have to be nice to him or anything. He was used to being degraded and hated, he was used to beatings and going sometimes days without meals.
"I just…" he stumbled his tongue clumsy. The room appeared to be spinning slightly. "I just…"
There was a pinch on one of his arms. He hardly had the will to flinch and he felt himself gently rocked into a shallow sleep with Death Light's tuneless humming.
----
"WAKE UP!" his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. The fluttering was faster than a mouse and he hardly could catch his breath. "Breathe you stupid yuppie."
Odd his mother didn't uselessly curve on the insults like that.
"That's because I'm not your mother you stupid trolup, now get up before I set fire to your ass to get you moving, we're under attack," said Death light with irritated clipped voice. Crona was up and running from their "safe area" in less than a second. This was good because a demons claw broke apart the wood in a flurry of shrapnel. They dodged to the best of their ability and Crona noticed that almost the entire house had been leveled.
"Damn it and the blood hadn't quite been purged yet, there's still black blood in your veins, and I was so close still," said Death Light, spitting slightly. "When I get my hands on them."
"What's going on?" asked Crona and glanced up from their new hiding place. On second glance he noticed that only half of Death's Light was now strewn across the desert. Though, now that he could virtually see all of it and the inside he noticed the back had something like a greenhouse, with dead plants now invading the ground, some becoming quite agitated in face of their destruction. Besides that there appeared to be a hoard of demons. "There's no way that they sent those after me."
"Not even your mother?" asked Death Light irritably and grabbed Crona, taking him away from another attack.
"She doesn't control a horde of demons," squeaked Crona and tears sprang into his eyes as he was dragged away.
"No, but if she got together with my father… well, how do you feel about working together?" asked Death Light dragging them into a well hidden area. Demons were generally more dense than humans. Proof of the fact was they were now just tearing around blindly trying to find them when they had been in plain sight only a minute ago.
"What, but you…" said Crona and then made a whining noise in his throat. Death Light held her hand against his mouth.
"Don't tell me you don't know how to deal," said Death Light. "You ever think there's a reason that I live alone?"
"Wh-" it was hard to talk with a hand over ones mouth.
"I'm not technically a witch. I just know some tricks that allow me to pass as one, but what I really am is a weapon," said Death Light and she brought one hand back where the fingers fell together in a slice of metal. "And no, not a demon weapon. I'm just a weapon, trying to stay away from that sort of corruption. But you said you had a weapon, which means that you are a technician. That was why Medusa kept you alive, right? Because you could be of use that way. So, use me instead. It shouldn't be too hard, right?"
Death Light took her hand off Crona's mouth and looked at him imploringly.
"I don't…" trembled Crona, his heart still felt like it was beating a mile a minute, and whatever had knocked him out for the procedure was making him a little dizzy.
"We don't have time for you to learn how to dea-" but they were flying in seconds, their protective hideout destroyed by a reckless swipe of demon claws. Crona somehow landed on his feet with Death Light beside him. He frowned; he could almost hear Regnarok telling him to kill. And these were demons. Demons were meant to be killed; he knew that, that's what they had been trying to tell him. He glanced to the side. He didn't even know if he was a true meister, and he didn't know if he'd be able to use her. But Death Light was looking at him with hope, so he took her hand.
He brought her in front, the weight changing instantly in his hands. Crona let a gentle breath loose. He could only see her for a moment, but that was enough to send chills down his spine. Mostly because she felt right, even more right than Regnarok had. Of course, there was also the fact that she was beautiful. Which was odd thing to say about a weapon he thought. She was slender under his fingers, a flush of movable metal shaped as a fan, and trailing from where he gripped were ribbons, ones that seemed to extend toward delicacy instead of battle.
The first demon came at Crona hard. He moved to the side more from instinct than anything else. He moved with precision, dodging the demons claws and moving fluidly through the demon with a swipe of his fan. He moved with grace over the sand. He caught his footing as a new red soul appeared in front of him. Pain, Crona turned and swiped, destroying the thing that had caught his shoulder. He'd have to be more careful, Regnarok wasn't there to stop the blood flow or turn his blood into anything helpful. It was a bit of a bother, Death Light was just a weapon, a separate being than himself, and she wouldn't fight for him. Still, she felt so light in his hands. He didn't know how to fight, but her light weight allowed him to jump and move around with ease.
Of course his lack of concentration almost got him killed and only a last minute move away from three converging demons. The very air drained him. Still, he easily killed the first one with one swipe, and then using one of the ribbons he threw the fan. Crona chuckled; he didn't think that Death Light would like him talking about her as if she were only an object.
A blade bit into his shoulder, and he gasped.
"Would you pay attention!" shouted the weapon. Crona caught Death Light's reflection on the surface. "Stop acting like some sort of dreamy girl or we're both dead. I can't fight by myself, I can't get the sliding blades right and cut down the… damnit Crona pay attention!"
The shout just saved him again. A quick move had the demon a red soul. There were too many of them, all bearing down on only him and Death Light. Crona swallowed. He had killed a hundred men before under his mother's spell, and yet there seemed to be nothing that he could do against all of them. Not with Death Light. She couldn't save him, not the way Regnarok could.
"Why you little…" and another one was torn to pieces. But still, at this rate they were dead. Death Light was new, and obviously only knew the basics of her own power, which meant that she had no idea what any other tricks she might have were. She wasn't even close to size that most weapons were. Just a little big for a normal fan with irritating ribbons that Crona was half scared that he'd trip over them instead of getting her back like last time.
He bounced with a back flip over the next demon, hardly landing a scratch on its back in the confusion. Crona swore as he landed in the sand, right in the middle of a group of demons. There were too many… he had to stop being so pessimistic, Death Light couldn't fight by herself. They were in the middle of the desert with nothing around and over one hundred demons. There was nowhere to hide. Even in the forest there was no clear place. Demons could sniff him out once they stopped acting moronic and got his scent.
He caught the talons of the next and threw one of ribbons into the next demons chest… because he apparently could do that. He rolled under the things legs. Something caught him on the shoulder and blood stung his eyes. Crona blinked his eyes in irritation. This sucked. But they had no choice, he couldn't runaway. He could just scream and be mauled down, but that wouldn't be fair to Death Light, she had taken her time and resources to try and get rid of the black blood, and now he was letting his now red blood splash all over the sand.
It was over before he knew it. He cursed his luck. He'd done so well, it had been a lucky hit, there were only a few left and now he was falling to ground. It had to be fatal. Well, maybe Death Light could fend for herself now.
---
"Shit, you stupid boy, the next time you're going to fall into blood lust, you warn me," snapped Death Light. She ran a hand through her hair. Cursing she wondered what she could do. Not much, not in this situation. Still, the demons had run away, and Crona was still breathing. But he'd lost too much blood.
"Unless, but that's… I'll have to do a test," she muttered to herself. She glanced at Crona in irritation and sighed. She needed him now. The demons would get back to her father, he'd find out she was a weapon, Medusa would find out she was a weapon. "Let's just skip the whole parents force us together. Well, I guess in a way that's what they're forcing us to do."
Death Light dragged Crona's dead weight across the desert, trying ignore the blood that followed in his wake. She set him on her counter, one of the few things left in one piece. Her house was a wreck, destroyed. "They're not going to let us go Crona. They're going to force us to be together one way or another, and I refuse to let myself fall into evil after all these years."
Death Light found the remains of the plant she wanted. It was stupid. This wasn't a good idea. But just finding Crona's body… no, Crona had never done anything wrong. To let him die would be a sort of evil. She had promised that she'd always try to save anyone that needed it. And Crona needed it, even if he was apparently a cross-dresser. But that wasn't his fault, he had a messed up childhood thanks to Medusa. Still, she could fix that. There was no way he was wearing anything that tacky if they were going to be traveling together.
But first thing first. She had to save his life.
Finding a sampling of his blood was laughably easy. And it looked like a match. Well, if it was the only way. There was not clear what would happen. She could just be damning herself. But Death Light had not been lying, she couldn't fight on her own, she couldn't seem to make it work, and being tossed around in Crona's hands seemed so natural that she knew she would have to be wielded. So, that meant making sure that he had enough blood.
It wasn't hard to find her equipment. She knew this was going to be crude, but her test had also shown poison in his blood. It might just be the residue black blood. But with Cona having hid blood already beating fast through his body and the blood spilling from his many wounds he'd acquired. Death Light wondered if Crona realized he'd fought in only his underwear. Death Light tried to stifle a giggle. She bandaged him quickly, running her herbs over the open wounds and dipping her own hands in cleansing water so she wouldn't be poisoned.
She moved quickly finding her tubes, bag, herbs. He would have to be quieted a little, plus a little extra to help remove the poison. She prepped her needle and quickly shoved it into his skin and started to take some calming drugs herself. She could do this. If she went fast enough she could save him and have someone with fighting experience on her side. All she needed to do was do this right. She connected them and through her spirit energy into what needed to be done. She felt the herbs catch the action.
Death Light hoped that no demon came back, because for at least the next twenty-four hours they were going to be dead to the world. Death Light smiled lazily as she slowly lowered herself. Her arm ached from where she'd been stuck the needle, but that was in the past, and she was quickly falling asleep, her eyes drifting closed. This had to work. Was her only hope as she fell asleep, lacing her hands lazily with her new friend.
