a/n: I know it's been eons. I'm SORRY. I had a lot of technical difficulties with this chapter. I lost what I had written and had to start from scratch, blah blah blah cool story okay here you go. PS - this isn't the last chapter, just so we're clear before you come to yell at me.

"Sydney Sage," the familiar cadence of her voices washes over me in an unexpectedly comforting way. "Now there's a name I haven't heard in a long time."

"So, you do remember me." I say, feeling awkward.

She chuckles. "It hasn't been that long, Miss Melbourne."

And for some reason, I'm suddenly fighting back tears. I don't know why, it's the stupid old nickname that does me in.

"Yeah, well." I reply with a tight throat, "Forgetfulness seems to be going around lately."

"Should I flatter myself with the notion you're about to tell me where you disappeared to and why? Or shall we get to that after you tell me what you need my help with?"

Her tone is teasing, but the comment stings. "I didn't have a choice," I tell her. "The Alchemists...they found out about..." I stop short, for some reason I'm embarrassed to say it out loud. "how close I'd become with Adrian and the others." I finally settle on saying. "I never would have just left without..." I have to swallow back the lump forming in my throat.

"I had assumed as much," she says. "I was quite worried, you know. So much that I employed a rather questionable character to find and inform me of your whereabouts, for fear you might be in some sort of trouble. Once I knew you'd recommitted yourself to the Alchemists, I could only hope someday you might find your way back."

"I'm so sorry," I say miserably. "I'm sorry I made you worry. And I haven't recommitted myself to the Alchemists."

"Oh?" she's clearly surprised. "That is a rather interesting development."

"I mean, I suppose I have, technically." I sigh. "But I haven't, not really."

"I've never known you to speak so vaguely, Miss Melbourne." Ms. Terwilliger says, a slight note of disapproval in her voice. Then, all at once, she realizes. "Something is very wrong."

And it all just comes pouring out of me. The night they took us. The drug. What they did to Adrian. The deal I made with Stanton. All that time I spent, not even allowed to grieve or show any sign of defiance lest I fall victim to the same fate. Fighting every single day to stay sane. How much I missed him. Her. Everyone. My stupid, stupid plan of coming to New York to find him. Seeing him with Rebecca. How much it hurts. I'm crying like a child and my throat aches from forcing out the words but I can't seem to stop.

"I know you must be so disappointed in me," I croak. "After all you taught me, when I could have used it to save him-me...I didn't. I knew it was a long shot and I would make even more of a mess for myself if I failed but," I sniff loudly. "I should have tried."

"Oh, Sydney." she says softly and I am startled by her use of my first name. "You grew so much in our time together, you'd become so strong. I have no doubt you certainly had the power to do something. And you know, that's what anyone else in your situation would have done. People resort to their impulses, their gut instincts, when in that kind of danger. But, you, Sydney, you thought ahead. You had the good sense to know the odds were stacked against you. And in keeping your powers a secret, you not only found another way to save yourself, but to keep people like me out of trouble as well. I couldn't possibly be more proud of you."

After a very long moment I stutter, "Th-thank you, Ms. Terwilliger." Because I don't know what else to say. I take a deep breath to steady myself.

"Now," she says breezily, "Onto to the issue with Adrian. What do you know about the drug they gave him?"

"Hardly anything." I sigh.

"I see," she says. "Then all we know is that he's been given a drug that wiped away a few months worth of memories. Hmm."

Here it comes. Time to ask the question I'm terrified to know the answer. "Is there anything at all, a spell of some sort... that could...bring him back?"

"Not that I know of," she says and my heart turns to stone.

"There are several spells for remembrance," she continues. "Some witches rely on them when their minds are beginning to dull with old age. But these spells are for small things, like remembering where you left something important, keeping your mind sharp for when performing more complicated spells, that sort of thing." She sighs heavily. "He didn't forget you naturally. His brain was chemically altered in some way. These sort of spells certainly can't have any affect on that."

"Well," I say after a moment, "Thank you for telling me." I'm not altogether surprised. This was a desperate, last resort. A fairytale.

As if she's read my mind, she says, "Have you attempted to jump start his memory in any way? Perhaps by touching him, kissing him?"

I can't help but snort. I expected that kind of advice from Jill, a 16 year old girl. But not from a rational grown woman. "Funny."

Her tone is serious when she replies, "Love is a powerful magic."

"Not powerful enough, it seems." I say dismally. "The Alchemists don't do anything halfway. I know deep down what's done is done and his memories are just...gone, but...I guess I went a little crazy for awhile, letting myself hope."

"Maybe you should just tell him the truth." She suggests. "He deserves to know what's happened to him."

"I thought about that, of course." I reply. "But I really don't think he'd believe me. This whole thing is just hopeless. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought he'd see me again and he'd just remember. I actually thought that. That our connection to each other was so strong...I thought it would be like...like..."

"Like magic?" she supplies and I can hear the smile in her voice.

"I'm an idiot," I mumble, covering my face with my free hand.

"Hardly," Ms. Terwilliger scoffs. "I don't like the sound of you giving up. I told you the remembrance spells were non applicable but it wouldn't hurt to try. Hell, you're the strongest, most intelligent young witch I've come across in years. Make up your own spell. It just might be crazy enough to work."

Her words run soothingly over the cracks inside me and I smile, in spite of everything. "I appreciate the enthusiam and I'm flattered by your faith in me, but, I just don't think I can do this anymore. I can't hurt myself like this. I've seen that he's...okay. And...relatively happy, sort of. I think I just need to go home."

"This isn't you, Sydney." she says adamantly. And it's the second time her words have echoed Jill's. "Give me a little time to think on it. I'll ask around, see if there's anything else you can do. In the meantime, just keep a close eye on him."

"Time is something I don't have," I tell her. "if I'm not back the minute Stanton expects me, I won't be able to call and ask for help again a year from now, because I won't know who you are."

"That won't happen," her voice is fierce and protective. "Get some rest. I'll call you as soon as possible tomorrow to let you know what I've found."

"What if you haven't found anything?"

"Then," she says, "We'll just have to get creative."

I don't sleep, not really. I don't really try, either. Sleep means dreams. Nightmares. At the mercy of my unstable subconscious. Just another thing I can't control.

Ms. T calls me around six AM, but upon hearing I haven't slept, orders me to bed before she'll tell me anything else. I tell her I need to know if she's found anything, that my sanity depends on it, she hangs up on me.

I eventually force myself into an excrutiatingly long two and a half hours of what I suppose you could technically refer to as sleep. I think I feel worse upon waking. But when I call Ms. T back she takes pity on me.

"I didn't find anything we didn't already know," she tells me excitedly, and I'm too numb-tired to react, "But I did remember something-I can't believe I didn't think of it before."

"What?"

"There is a spell for cleansing," she says. "It is used on witches who've gone a bit power hungry, started to use their magic in a dark, unnatural way. In a sense, these witches have forgotten who they are, the spell is meant to clear out all the negative energy and thoughts built up inside them. It's not the same thing as what's happened to Adrian, but it just might be-"

"Crazy enough to work," I finish dryly. It seems ridiculous to me. But, this is it. My last shot. I sigh heavily, rubbing my eyes. "Okay." I say. "What do I have to do?"

"It's going to take a lot of energy," she tells me. "You'll have to eat something. And you're terribly out of practice. But no worry, I'm confident you'll be able to pull it off."

"Where am I going to get the ingredients for the spell?" I ask, doubt threatening to consume me again. "I don't have that much time until I'm supposed to meet Adrian today."

"Today?" she asks. "Oh no, that won't do. This is a spell that wil have to sit overnight. You'll have to call him and postpone the meeting."

"I can't do that," I tell her. "Things are already weird between us. If I bail on him today, he'll just think I'm being rude. Then he might not want to see me again."

"Oh, nonsense." she scoffs. "Just tell him something vastly important has come up and you're terribly sorry but you'd be happy to meet with him tomorrow. It gives you an air of mystery. Men love that sort of thing."

I blink a few times, unable to conjur up any sort of response.

"Fine." I say after a moment. "Give me a second to get a pen and paper and you can tell me what I need to gather for the spell."

"Oh, no need for that," she tells me airily. "This spell only requires one ingredient. An herb."

That's odd. Especially since it's such a potent spell. "Um. Alright. Well what herb, then?"

She gives a soft laugh, though her answer is far from amusing. "Sage."

"I..." I start to say, then just sigh. "Seriously?"

"I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried," she laughs again. "After you spell the sage, he'll have to ingest it."

"How on earth am I supposed to get him to do that?" I exclaim.

"Slip it in his drink," she answers, "bake it into a pastry. Really, Sydney, you act as if you've never drugged a man before."

I rub my now aching temples with my fingers. "This just went from might be crazy enough to actually insane."

"Perhaps, a little." she agrees. "But a little crazy never hurt anyone."

"Ms. Terwilliger," I sigh heavily, "I don't-"

"Now we don't have time to play around," she goes on as if I haven't spoken. "I'm sure there's a witch somewhere close by. I'll locate one and we'll get some dried sage from her. I'm afraid you'll have to hand rub it yourself, that's when you start to work the spell into it."

"Naturally," I reply dryly.

"Alright." she says with a decisive sigh, "I'll call you back when I've procured the sage for you."

"Wait," I say suddenly, a rogue, ancient thought comes springing to the front of my mind. "I..um..I just remembered. What ever happened to Ho-" I correct myself, "the callistana." I haven't thought about him in such a very long time. Though he was thrust into my hands as a nothing but a nuisance, he had soon become an essential part of my life in Palm Springs. And Adrian's. Our little dragon love child, we used to call him. Another unwelcome behest of emotion swells in my chest at the memories.

This time the silence between us stretches longer than reasonably comfortable. When she speaks again her voice holds a sad, consoling tone. "Ah. Well. Terribly unfortunate, though I know it couldn't have been helped, on your part. After I'd realized you were really gone, I took it upon myself to find it and make sure it continued to be fed. But like I told you long ago, the callistana needed you and Adrian to bond with it to stay healthy and strong. It stayed relatively active for a decent amount of time after you left. If I didn't know better I'd say it was almost as if it was waiting for one of you to show up. I must say, I think I was more or less doing the same thing. But then, after a week or so, it just sort of curled up into a ball and wouldn't move for anything, wouldn't take any food..." she pauses and a tender part of my heart I didn't even know existed is breaking. "So I decided to put the poor little thing out of its misery. Sent it back to where it came from."

"I see," I reply unsteadily. I bite back the tears as to avoid another embarrassing emotional breakdown with Ms. Terwilliger. "I'm sorry to hear that. Call me when you've got the sage. I've got to call Adrian and think of a reason why I can't see him today." And I hang up before she can respond.

I sit on the edge of my hotel bed, shoulders slumped. I try to picture Hopper in my mind, but the mental image is distorted and probably more my brain straining to construct him with false fabrication than reality. He was a smart little guy, we had found that out fairly quickly. Of course he'd notice us being gone, Adrian and me, but I didn't ever think of the negative effects it would have on him. In my time away, the only thing on my mind was keeping myself safe from getting my own memories wiped, and finding a way to get back to Adrian. I'd be lying if I said Hopper had been on my mind. He hadn't, really. And now I feel a little sick about it. The thought of him scampering around his aquarium, confused as to where the people he'd come to know as his parents had gone, and when they were coming back. And then, realizing slowly that we weren't coming back at all. And that realization causing him to shut down. It's not so different from how I feel right now. Like shutting down. Like closing my eyes with the hope they just don't ever have to open again. But I can't do that. Even though this plan is crazy and fruitless, I still have to go through with it. Because, I just have to. For Adrian, for myself, and I guess in a small, weird way, for Hopper too. His "death" won't exactly be in vain if I can help bring Adrian back to himself. At least, that's what I tell myself, and it gives me the strength to keep going.

"Hey," the sight of Adrian immediately spins me into anxiety. I don't know why I ever thought this was something I could do. "Glad you could make it."

"I'm sorry about yesterday," I tell him with a forced smile. The story I fed him over the phone was that I'd gotten an emergency call from work and needed to deal with it. He asked me what sort of work would call me when I was supposed to be on vacation. I'd forgotten I hadn't been honest about the Alchemy thing. I sputtered my way through something ridiculous and illogical, I'm sure. I don't really remember what I said. I had no experience lying to Adrian, ever, and I wasn't very good at it. I don't think he believed me, but I could only hope he thought perhaps I was stalling seeing him in person again as to avoid any residual awkwardness from our last encounter, and not that I was up to any arcane activities that involved him directly. It's so strange. Adrian had always been my partner in crime when it came to this sort of thing, now we find ourselves on opposite ends, and I hate the way that feels.

"It's not problem, shit happens." His smile is a little forced too. I'm drawn to the heavy shadows weighing down his eyes and I suddenly wish I had the power of healing at my fingertips so that I could press my thumbs to his face and wipe them away. He invites me in and leads me to the couch and we sit for a moment in silence. His posture is angled and tense. Aside from his sunken eyes, he doesn't look like he's in pain, but I can tell that he is. I can see him trying so hard to hold himself together, and I wish he knew he didn't have to do that, that he could break into a thousand tiny pieces and I'd spend all day picking them up for him, but since I can't tell him that, I don't say anything at all.

He takes the bait right on cue and gestures to the thermos in my lap. "What's that?"

And here we go.

"Oh," I say as if I had forgotten all about it. "I actually brought this for you."

"For me?" His eyes open wide and flash with surprise. A ghost of a smile plays at his lips. "What is it?"

"It's um, it's just some herbal tea. I made it myself." I extend my hand toward him and as he takes it from me our fingers brush and I try to ignore the warm electricity that sparks at the touch and I wonder if he's ignoring it too, or if he even feels it at all.

"You mentioned feeling unwell," I tell him carefully, "since you stopped taking your medication, I thought something nice and natural might do you some good. It can be very calming."

He stares at me for a moment, dumbfounded. Then his lips melt into a staggering smile. "That's really thoughtful of you," he says. "Thanks, Syd."

I choose not to react to that.

He takes a swig of the tea and I'm holding my breath and he squints his eyes and coughs slightly. "Ah." he winces, but follows up with another smile. "Minty."

"That's the sage," I tell him with a nod. I can't help it, the thought of performing magic on Adrian without his permission feels weird. I know if my Adrian were here and could see what were happening, he'd tell me I was being ridiculous. He'd want me to do whatever it took to bring him back, but that's not the case. At least telling him what's in the drink soothes my conscious a little bit. "It's said to be good for...clearing the mind."

He laughs. "Well, damn. I'd better drink up then, my mind's a god damn mess." And he takes another long swig of the tea. I'm certain my heart is pounding audibly. It's echoing in my ears.

"Sage," he says and I startle at the sound of it on his lips, but he's looking at the thermos. Then his eyes flick to me. "Isn't that your last name?"

I smile softly. "It is."

"Interesting," he muses, taking another sip.

"Well," I say, "They were all out of Ivashkov."

He snorts at that, then downs the rest of the tea and sets the thermos aside and rubs his hands together. "Well, let's get started, shall we?"

And nothing happens. And nothing happens. And nothing happens.

He sketches me and I sit there and the minutes tick by and minutes turn into an hour and more minutes and he keeps telling me to relax and I can't relax and nothing else is happening and I don't know why I'm getting so upset when I knew this whole idea was stupid to begin with and I was an idiot to think-

"Sydney?" His voice brings my attention to him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I lie. "Why?"

"You know I love that crazy-expressive face of yours," he says with a smirk. "But right now you just look...upset."

"Well I'm not." My voice comes out clipped and he cocks his head to the side slightly, clearly confused.

"You want to take a break?"

"It doesn't matter to me," I say tonelessly. He scrunches up his face, his confusion increasing.

"I'm sorry," I tell him honestly, trying to break free of my sour mood. None of this is his fault and taking it out on him is only going to push him farther away from me. "I'm just-I guess I do just need a break."

His smile returns. "Maybe you're the one who could use a little sage, Sage."

My heart stutters at the sound. I bark out a short laugh, shake my head slightly, and look away.

I feel the weight of him as he places himself beside me on the couch.

"You sure you're alright?" He nudges my shoulder with his and I just really wish he wouldn't touch me ever again but at the same time it's taking everything I have left in me not to turn to him and collapse into his arms.

I continue to stare out the window of his apartment. The apartment he shares with his beautiful girlfriend. The apartment that doesn't remind me of him at all. Maybe my Adrian is dead. The thought settles over me with an eerie calm. Maybe this man sitting next to me on the couch really is a stranger and always will be. Maybe it's time for me to accept that.

"At the risk of unleashing your fury again," he says slowly, "does this have anything to do with um..." he clears his throat. "your guy?"

"Maybe." I finally answer. I still don't look at him.

"You can talk to me about it, if you want." he says. "I promise I won't give you any more unsolicited advice. I'll just listen."

"It's a little embarrassing," I lean back against his couch and close my eyes.

"You don't have to be embarrassed around me, of all people." I wonder if he knows his words are mirroring mine or not.

"I did something stupid."

"I've done a lot of stupid things," Adrian replies gently. "I'm sure what ever you did isn't nearly as stupid as the least stupid thing I've done."

"I tried," I say wearily. Maybe this Adrian isn't my Adrian, but he's still Adrian. And I just need him to comfort me, as tragically ironic as this entire situation may be.

"Tried what?"

How can I put it in vague terms? "I tried to get him to come back to me." I finally decide on.

"Oh." his tone is stunted, like he doesn't know what else to say. After a moment he adds, "Is that what you were really doing yesterday?"

I nod slowly, eyes still closed.

"I see," he says, and I feel his weight shift slightly but I can't tell if he's moved closer to me or farther away. "I'm guessing it didn't go well."

I shake my head slowly, eyes still closed.

"Can I ask what happened, exactly?" his voice is soft, almost caressing.

I open my eyes, finally, and turn my head to look at him. "Nothing happened."

He holds my gaze for a moment, then nods as if he understands. He doesn't, of course. But that hardly makes a difference.

"You know," he says, leaning his head back on the couch, his face turned toward mine. "I did tell you that guy was a loser."

"He's not a loser," I say. "He's just...not mine anymore."

"That makes him a loser by default," Adrian smiles, and my brain switches places with my heart. I reach out and grab his hand, not knowing how he'll react. Not thinking. Not caring. Not in this moment. His face twitches in surprise but he doesn't pull his hand away. He squeezes mine softly. The warmth of his touch travels up my arms and spreads throughout my chest. He looks at me, and I look back until I can see myself reflected in his eyes. I inhale shakily. As far as I'm concerned, I have nothing left to lose. I have a decent amount of time left here, I suppose, but I'm not thinking about that.

I am thinking about what Ms. Terwilliger said.

About how love is a powerful magic.

He hasn't let go of my hand. And his face is so close to mine. His eyes are still locked on mine, and he says, "Sydney-" and then I lean forward and kiss him.

Adrian may not remember me, but his mouth certainly does. He reacts to the kiss immediately, his mouth melding to mine exactly as it should have been doing all this time. Of all the things I forbade myself to forget about him, his kiss was the one thing I clung to the most desperately. However, I see my memory has done it absolutely no justice. His mouth is so warm as it moves against mine, so perfect, fitting us together like puzzle pieces. Fiery trails of pleasure course through my body and I lean in a little more, pressing my mouth against his more firmly, capturing his bottom lip and tugging on it gently with my teeth because I know that drives him crazy and he groans in response and leans in to meet my intensity and for one perfect moment we're kissing, hard, and the world somersaults right into place.

And then that moment ends.

He pushes me away roughly, practically leaping off the couch. He stares at me, panting, then turns away.

I try to steady my breath. "I'm sorry," I say. Not because I kissed him. But it doesn't matter.

He turns around, his hand pressed up against his lips, it's shaking. He wipes it across them, as if to erase my touch. He looks at me, eyes alive and wild. "Why did you do that?"

"Adrian," I stand up and walk toward him. He stumbles backwards, like he's afraid of me. My voice breaks around the word, "Please."

"Please what?" he exclaims, still staring at me like I've grown another head.

"It's me." I reach up and take his face in my hands. My voice is pleading and my eyes are wet. "Your Sage. Your flame in the dark. Please. Just. Remember."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, grabbing my wrists tightly and jerking my hands away from him. "Sydney...I...I'm sorry. I know you're upset and you're going through a hard time right now, but...I think maybe you should leave now."

"You kissed me back, you know." This is it. This is all I have left.

He shakes his head. "I wasn't thinking-I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. But I'm...I'm not-Please, just go."

So much for powerful magic.

I stare up at him, his face blurry through my tears. I blink and let them fall. I let my hands fall slack at my sides. He looks at me with such a detached pity that it almost makes me sick. "I'm sorry," he says again.

I can't take anymore of this. I leave without another word. The door clicks as I close it behind me. The end.

The first thing I do when I get back to my hotel is pack. There's no need for me to be here anymore. The things about New York I found charming and romantic when I first arrived are now distasteful and sickening. Once finished, I realize I never got my sweater back from Adrian. A loud, painful sound comes out of my mouth that I think is supposed to be a laugh. I highly doubt he'll be calling me again to come get it.

The next thing I do is call Ms. Terwilliger. I tell her what happened, leaving out some of the more humiliating details, and she urges me to use the time I have left in New York as a distraction to the Alchemists while I travel to her. She says she'll find a way to protect me from them. I tell her I appreciate the offer, but I need to think about it. I don't know if that's what I want to do. The only thing I want to do is curl up into bed and cry. So, I do. For awhile.

I let myself cry because I love him and he doesn't love me and I'll never get him back and that was probably the last time I'll ever see him and he'll just always think of me as that crazy girl who kissed him and I've never been so sad in my entire life and I'm allowed to cry about it. Tomorrow, I'll wake up and force myself to be a strong indepedent woman, but today I'm going to cry.

I eventually get up, type out an email to Stanton to tell her I'll be returning home ahead of schedule. I can already picture her face when she'll open it. Smug and satisfied. Maybe I'll even let her wipe my memories, after all. Then she'd really be the winner. And I wouldn't have to feel this unbearable, unrelenting pain.

I stare at the monitor until my reflection appears before me. Face swollen and red from crying. And I'm disgusted with myself. You are not the type of girl who falls apart over a boy, I tell myself angrily. Get a God damn grip.

I click the Discard button and the email I just typed up disappears. I wipe at the unsightly mascara trails underneath my eyes and take a deep breath.

There's just one more thing I have to know. I myself can't know what was going through Adrian's mind when we kissed, but I know someone who can. I call Jill.

"Did you feel anything today?" I ask as soon as she answers.

"Huh?"

"You know, through the bond." I clarify. "Anything at all."

"Uhhhh, oh!" she says. "Well...hmm.I don't really think so. I mean...I don't know. Not that I noticed, not really. Why? Did something happen?"

"No," I lie. "I just wondered. I'll talk to you soon, Jill."

"Wait!" she says. "What's going on? You haven't updated me. Have you seen Adrian again? How is he doing? Is he more like himself?"

"He's..." I trail off. I consider lying to her, telling her things are going well and everything will be okay, I'm just sure of it. But she cares for Adrian too much and I care for her too much, to do that. "He's gone, Jill."

"Are you sure?" the sadness in her voice would break me apart if I wasn't already in pieces.

"I'm sure." I tell her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried."

"I'm not going to give up," she says adamantly. "I understand how hard this is for you, Sydney. I know it's even more difficult with the Alchemists breathing down your neck. But I can't give up on him, and I won't. So just...do what you have to do. And leave Adrian to me. I'll..." she pauses. "I'll hit him across the head with a cement block if I have to."

"That's about the only thing there is left to do," I almost laugh. "I'm really tired, though. Today was...exhausting."

"Okay," she says uncertainly. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Very sure."

"Get some rest," she orders me. "Maybe things will seem a little brighter in the morning."

"Maybe," I agree, just to appease her. "I'll talk to you later. Take care of yourself."

"Same to you," she says. After we hang up, I shower and change for bed. I'm ready to sleep for at least 10 hours. Or 10 days.

A piercing sound jars me awake. I jerk up in surprise and glance at the clock on the nightstand. A little past 2 in the morning. After a few moments I realize it's my phone that's making the noise. I grab for it and see a number I don't recognize flashing across the screen. I answer it and put the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?" I ask groggily.

"Ummmm hi," an unfamiliar voice says. "Is this Sydney Sage?"

"Yes, this is she."

"Oh. Thank God," the voice sighs. "Um. Yeah. This is is Rebecca. Adrian's girlfriend. We met a couple days ago."

Oh God. Is this seriously happening? Is she calling me to tell me that she wants to beat me up for kissing her boyfriend or something? This is literally, quite literally, the last thing on Earth I am able to deal with right now.

"Listen," I tell her. "I'm-"

"I'm sorry!" her voice squeaks. "I know it's super late and you must have been sleeping. But it's just...um...I need your help."

"My help?" I ask, completely confused by this turn of events. "With what?"

"It's Adrian," she says and I realize for the first time during our conversation how troubled her voice is. "He's not...he's like, not okay."

"What do you mean?" I ask, though I'm afraid I already know the answer.

"You know he's a Spirit user, right?" And my fears are confirmed.

I throw the covers off myself and immediately spring into action. "What's happening?"

"He's gone totally crazy," she whispers frantically. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, just try your best to calm him down. Get him some water-"

"No, you don't understand." she interrupts. "Like, crazy-crazy. I can't get through to him. He's saying things... I don't know. He's not making any sense. I'm afraid he might hurt himself. Can you, like...I don't know...come over here?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea," I say, though it pains me more than anything else that's happened. My heart pounds while my brain tries to come up with a solution. Then, the strangeness of this phone call finally occurs to me. "Wait. I mean, not that I'm not willing to help, but...why did you even call me in the first place?"

"I figured maybe since you used to be an Alchemist you might know of something that could fix it," she says. "And because, well, he keeps saying your name."

"Where is he?" I ask, once I arrive at the apartment to find Rebecca alone in the living room, clearly distraught.

"In the bedroom," she whispers. "He finally went in there after awhile and I just pushed something up against the door so he couldn't...well, you know."

I stare at her in disbelief. "You...you're afraid of him." The notion of Adrian being dangerous is so ridiculous to me I almost laugh in her face.

"He'd been doing so well," she says, her eyebrows knitting together. "I think he may have stopped taking his medication."

"You are correct in that assumption," I say and her eyes widen.

"What?" she gasps. "How do you know that for sure?"

"Because he told me," I say, trying not to sound smug. "He hated the way it made him feel and how it stifled him. So he quit cold turkey. Apparently not the best decision, as it turns out."

"Why wouldn't he tell me that?" she wonders aloud, her lovely face contorting in anguish.

"Maybe because you're the one who forced him to go on the medication in the first place."

Her eyes go glassy. "Is that what he told you?" She squeaks. "I didn't force him! I was just trying to help him. I wanted him to be happy...my grandfather was a Spirit user. I never knew him, he died before I was born. But my mom told me all these horror stories about bad the Spirit could get, how it ate him up inside until there was nothing left. I didn't want that for Adrian!" She's blubbering now. "I just love him so much."

Here I was, villainizing Rebecca all this time, because of she had been trying to fix Adrian. But...had that not been exactly what I was doing with the spell and the sage? I found it hard to discern a difference between us now, standing in her living room, both selfish and scared and blinded with love for the same man.

I nod slowly. "I understand, I didn't mean to imply otherwise."

She continues to sob, and I'm a little bit pleased to see she's a particularly ugly crier. "I don't know what to do. I've never seen him like this before. I can't, I can't...I can't deal with this!"

"Shhh," I hiss, not wanting her hysterics to rile Adrian, if he can even hear us. He might be too far gone right now to be able to. "Rebecca. You need to stay calm if you're going to be able to get him through this."

"I can't!" she whispers through her tears. "I don't know...I think...I'm having...a panic attack." She takes a few deep, long breaths. I reach out to comfort her, then pull back.

A terrible thought passes through my mind. I swallow and move forward, putting a hand on Rebecca's shoulder. "Rebecca," I say. "I um...I do happen to have a bit of experience dealing with Moroi who are under the influence of Spirit. I could probably bring him out of it myself. I don't want to impose or come across as inappropriate-"

"Seriously?" she practically shrieks. "Oh my God, can you really fix him?" There's that word again. It makes me wince. "Oh, please please please." she takes my hands in hers. "I'd be so grateful. Do you want me to leave?" Her eagerness is palpable. "I could go for a walk or something. Just call me when it's safe to come back." I force myself not to have a visible reaction.

She's almost out the door before I can even reply. "Rebecca!"

She turns abruptly. "Yes?"

"It's...after 2 in the morning." I blink at her. "I don't think it's very safe for you to go for a walk by yourself."

She gives me a wide smile, revealing her fangs. "I'm a vampire," she reminds me. And I nod. Fair point. Then, I stand alone in the living room. I take a moment to collect myself, then make my way further into the apartment, until I find the room with a chair shoved in front of the door. I roll my eyes. Lord have mercy on that girl. I move the chair aside and open the door to find Adrian curled up in the corner, knocking his head against the wall he's huddled in front of repeatedly. I walk over to him calmly and sit beside him. I'm surprised to see he's also drenched in sweat, and his face in scrunched up like he's in physical pain.

I catch the back of his head before he can knock it against the wall again and he jerks toward me, startled.

"Stop that," I command gently. His eyes have that distant, wild look about them that I recognize as Spirit taken hold of him. I sigh heavily. It never gets any easier, seeing him like this.

I place my hands against his forehead to find that he's hot to the touch. I frown. Spirit has never had such a physical effect on him before. I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that he went off his medication so suddenly. Or, I realize with horror, maybe the sage tea has had some sort of adverse effect on him. I feel disgusted with myself, for possibly being the cause of his pain.

"Adrian?" I attempt to get his attention. But he's just staring at me. Blankly. Not seeing. Not responding.

"Come on," I say, grabbing for his hands and trying to pull him up. He stubbornly remains put and I stumble forward, almost falling on top of him.

"I said come on," I say more firmly. And he blinks. I grab his hands again and this time he lets me pull him over to the bed. I feel my muscles strain as I force him into a semi-lying position. I pat his chest affectionately. "I'll be right back." I tell him. "Do not move."

I leave and head to the kitchen. I find a clean dishcloth and run it under cold water. When I come back into the bedroom I find Adrian unmoved, but shirtless.

"Why did you take your shirt off?" I ask him.

His head swings lazily toward me. "It's too hot." His voice is far away and strange.

"I know," I tell him. I've found in the past the best way to deal with him when he's like this is to remain calm. Be gentle, but firm. I hold up the dishcloth. "That's why I got this."

I climb into the bed beside him and kneel, pressing the dishcloth against his forehead. "Better?" I ask. He doesn't respond.

"Adrian." I say, "Talk to me, please."

He squints at me. "Who are you?"

"Sydney," I answer patiently. He doesn't react. I sigh and bring the dishcloth against his face and then down his neck.

"Go away," he whispers, closing his eyes.

"I can't do that."

"I can't do that," he parrots. "Can't do that..."

"Adrian." I say, not wanting him to fall any deeper inside himself. "Open your eyes."

"I can't," he croaks. "It hurts."

"What hurts?" I ask.

He rolls over and buries his face into a pillow. He starts to mumble things that I can't make out.

"What hurts, Adrian?" I ask again.

He turns his head slightly, still not opening his eyes. "You."

"You're not making sense," I tell him. I put my hands on his arms and rub up and down, it's something that's helped to calm him down in the past.

"Your aura is too fucking bright," he says angrily. "It's like the fucking sun."

I can't help but laugh. "Well, I can hardly help that, can I?"

He props himself up in such a quick, fluid movement it almost knocks me backwards.

"Who are you?" he asks again.

"Sydney," I reply, swatting his chest with the dishcloth. "I already told you that."

"Syd...ney," he says my name slowly.

"Good job," I say dryly. "Are you feeling better?"

"Better," he spits the word, giving a harsh laugh. He brings his hands up to cover his face. We're both silent for a few moments. Then he lowers his hands and rolls back onto his side, curling up slightly. I lower myself onto the bed next to him, sidling up until our bodies touch. His eyes fly open at the contact.

"I'm really losing it this time," he whispers. He taps the side of his head roughly. "I can feel my mind burning up. There's not going to be anything left. It's burning up." The terror in his voice rips me in half.

"No." I tell him, reaching up to cup his face in my hands. "That's not going to happen."

"It's already happening," he argues. "I can't fight it anymore. It's...too much. It hurts."

"You're stronger than this, Adrian."

"I'm not." He wrenches away from me.

"Yes, you are." I force him to look at me.

"Where's Rebecca?" he whimpers, closing his eyes again.

"She had to leave for a little bit," I run a hand through his hair gently. "She's just worried about you. She wants to feel better."

"She's my girlfriend." he mumbles.

"I know," I continue stroking his hair. "She'll be back soon."

His eyes flutter open and he studies me. "You," he says, squinting. "You...used to be my girlfriend."

I freeze. My breath catches in my throat. "What did you say?"

He shudders and then blinks a few times. The look in his eyes is almost lucid. "I don't know why I said that." He shakes his head and then he's far away again. He groans and rolls away, turning his back to me. I sigh heavily and let him ramble on incoherently for a few minutes. Then, I try again.

"Adrian?" I grab his shoulder and try to turn him toward me. He makes a pitiful noise.

"It hurts," he tells me again.

"I know it hurts," I murmur, rubbing my hands down his bare chest. "I know. I wish there was a magical way I could make it all better. Make it so you never had to hurt again."

He looks up at me and squints again. "Worth it..." he mumbles, his eyes rolling upward slightly.

"What?"

"You..." he breathes, "...looked happy." He mumbles nonsense words. "Your aura...the sun..."

My heart stops again. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner, but it suddenly occurs to me, that perhaps Adrian's own Spirit magic could have an effect on what was done to his brain. It seems ridiculous, but I've exhausted every other resource. And he's already in the throes of Spirit...

"Adrian," I say quietly. "Does your head hurt?"

His eyes roll back to me. "Huh?"

"If you head hurts," I tell him slowly. "Maybe you should try to heal it."

"No," he moans loudly, "It doesn't work like that..." and he's mumbling again. I feel idiotic for even thinking that could be possible. He slaps a hand over his chest. "My heart hurts."

"Mine too," I say, pulling him in close to me. I close my eyes and just hold him. He starts to twitch every now and then, his shoulders jerking forward violently. I bring my hands up to stroke his back and arms. "It's okay," I tell him. "You're going to be okay."

"Where's Rebecca?" he asks for the second time.

"I told you, she had to leave for a little bit."

"She's gone?" he looks up at me, his eyes wide and sad.

"Not for long," I promise. I place my hand over his heart. "That's why your heart hurts." I smile softly. "You know how people use the phrase heart strings?" He doesn't respond, but I continue on anyway."Well, when I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me that when you love someone, tiny little invisible strings tie your hearts together. And whenever that person is far away, the strings tug your heart right up against your chest." I laugh. "We used to play this game where I'd run away from her and she's clutch her heart dramatically and say 'Ouch! My heart strings!' And then I'd run back."

He's gone non-responsive again, eyes closed.

I've never told him that story before, I don't know why it came to me just now. I look down at him and smile. "I love you, you know. I'll always love you. No matter what." my throat tightens up, but I just keep talking. "And that's why the darkness can't have you. Because you're mine." I lean forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead. "Even though you don't remember me, even though you'll probably never think about me again, you'll always be mine. In here." I point to my own heart. Another stretch of silences passes and I realize his breathing has gone deep and even. I lean down to give him one last, soft kiss. Right on his lips. And then I crawl quietly out of the bed and call Rebecca.

"You're an angel," she tells me, as she gazes in lovingly at Adrian sleeping. "So he's...okay now?"

"He should be when he wakes up." I nod. "He just needs to sleep it off."

She moves forward and gathers me up in an unexpected embrace. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I give her a long, appraising look. "You really love him?" I ask.

She nods vehemently. "More than anything."

"Then you can't freak out like you did if this happens again," I tell her seriously. "He needs you to be there for him. "

She bites her lip, then nods. "I know. I will be. But hopefully it won't happen again."

"Yeah," I say, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Hopefully."

Albeit a little spacey and...odd. She seems like a genuinely good person. I suppose I can accept that she loves him. And I can almost believe she'll be able to be strong for him when he can't be strong for himself. It doesn't make it any less painful to leave him with her. But somehow, I do it.

When I'm finally back in my hotel bed, drifting off to sleep, my mind wanders unwittingly to the story I told Adrian about my mom and the heart strings. I remember, when I was little, I used to worry that if the person you loved ran too far away from you, would your heart rip right out of your chest?

I smile softly at the memory of my nonsensical child-like logic. Still, better to be safe than sorry. I imagine an invisible pair of scissors cutting right through the strings that connect my heart to Adrian's in one giant snip. I meant what I said about loving him, always. I love him enough to let him go.