"Something I should know?"

The crackling silence was broken by her voice, almost hurt, almost afraid of what he had to say.

"Something you should have never had to know," was his dead toned reply. She licked her lips, throat dry and mouth sticky.

Words, complicated, harsh and she wanted to shout them at him, all locked up in her chest. She could feel her heart racing to get them out, to know as soon as possible. But then she didn't, she wanted Skulduggery to be that little bit of goodness she's always needed to hold onto, even thought she knew fine well that he wasn't.

Wasn't even fucking close.

And she was about to find out why, first hand.

"I always wanted to be punished for what I did... even though loosing... them, seemed like punishment enough at that time. I suppose this is one of those be careful what you wish for things," he whispered, hardly able to speak the words.

Ashamed? Afraid? Angry?

All of them, and more.

They painted a picture of a man that seldom reached the surface of his bones.

"I'm scared," she said, calmly, factually.

She heard him look at her. She knew most of his movements by every sense now. It was strange knowing so much, and knowing so little at the same time.

"Fletchers probably having some kind of fit," he mused, a forced light hearted tone to his voice. She laughed, and he felt relived.

"Bet he thinks I've run away with you," she tried to joke.

"...You always do."

The chains moved sometimes, oddly. They were on some kind of pulley system and had different tracks along the ceiling. She spent most of her time trying not to think, or talk to Skulduggery. Instead she just wanted to get to him. It took a lot of effort really, moving chains with links as thick as her arm forwards, after a good few hours of hanging and aching. It took her well over an hour, but she got there, in the end.

He was a bit surprised to find his partner dangling close enough for him to touch her with the slightest movement. He'd heard her struggling, but he thought it was just that – an attempt to get free, not an attempt to get closer to him.

"What are you doing, Valkyrie?" he asked, in a flat tone that didn't sound too impressed.

"I'm...well, not being over there anymore I guess," she tried to sound cheery, but her efforts were rewarded with the shake of a head.

"I thought... I just feel safer here," she defended her reasoning, settling as well as her sore shoulders allowed. She hovered a few centimetres away from him, his smell indescribable and his presence somehow soothing, but something was stopping her from toughing him.

It was that uncertainty again. She wanted to comfort him, she wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay. It wasn't right, not even a little bit.

Slowly, attentively, she leaned into him.

Not a murmur of protest, and only a slight sway as he adjusted to take her weight. She relaxed completely when he rested his chin on her head.

He wouldn't do this normally. Be so lenient with himself... let his guard down. But this could be it. This could be the last time she ever saw him like... whatever she saw him like. Her hero, her mentor, her friend. He stopped his head there.

She was shaking, and he didn't know what to do. She wasn't crying, he knew that. She was too strong around him, trying to be too much like him.

"Don't do that," he whispered gently into her hair. He wished he could run his fingers through it, soother her until she fell asleep, convince her it was all a dream. But he wouldn't have, even if he could. "I won't let him do what I did, I swear to you."

She snuffed a few times, before snuggling further into his collarbone. It wasn't comfortable, but it was him.

"I forgive you," she mumbled into the dark blue of his suit. He didn't react at all, mainly because he wasn't sure of what she actually meant.

"For everything," she continued, "For the things you did, and the things that he's about to do. So don't, for one second, blame this on yourself. You're not who you were," she said it so freely, like she knew, like she met him during the war and thought nothing of his actions. Still, those words, spoken by so few before, made him want to wrap her in his arms. Whether it be for her naivety, or her understanding, or even the strange sympathy that she was showing him, like what was going to happen was going to harm him more than her.

She could be right there.

In that second, Valkyrie felt Skulduggerys teeth brush against her forehead. And it sent beautiful chills running down her spine, like her first kiss with Fletcher. She didn't say a word, because she was sure he wouldn't want her too.

Through little sleep, she didn't dream at all.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of the pulley systems creaking chains as Skulduggery was pulled away from her. He wasn't moving, and it took her a moment to calm her panic and read his body language.

Meditating?

She didn't blame him, he didn't want to see this.

The man, flickering like he did, to different stations, with different sharp things, deciding on what kind of pain she should suffer today.

She calmed her breathing, until it was slow enough to make her lungs ache. She glanced up at the numb pain in her wrists, sticky with blood in a bright ring of red. She wriggled them, focused on the pain. It took her away from the room, in a dizzy feeling of weightlessness.

Not far enough. She could feel him numbly unbuttoning her jacket, then ripping through her top slowly with a knife. The sound filled her head, as she tried to drift further away.

Her chest was bear by the time she could feel the cold, damp, liquid pulp being smeared on her body in small rings and lines. She guessed they were incision marks, or symbols to aide him in his search.

Then, finally.

Sharp and shiny and painful.

From her chest plate to her navel, a thin line of blood was drawn. Her body edged away from the knife as she winced and squirmed, but he only laughed. Still her eyes closed, and she wasn't going to open them, and she wasn't going to cry out. She wasn't, she couldn't.

The knife travelled again, tortuously, tormentingly, down the same path, causing a fresh wave of hot blood filing down her torso.

"You know, he was worse than this," the voices said, filling her head with their presence.

"This was just how he started, simple, almost gently and unsure. He got braver, more creative, more bloodthirsty. Has he told you what he's done?"

Her lips remained tight. Not a word for him, not a mumble of pain.

"No? Where to start? Torture, of course, the classic. Murder, as in, no reason other than he could. He set someone on fire, from the inside, slowly. You'll not like that one. He used magic as his weapon of course, but he enjoyed cutting, feeling them squirm.

Oh, and of course, rape. Strange though isn't it? He's such a gentle monster around you."

Her heart fell cold. He was lying, he had to be.

Skulduggery would never, in a million years...

But she didn't know that, she didn't know who he was back then.

She shook herself. It didn't matter. He was her Skulduggery now.

The blade found her cheek, and caressed it lightly. Pain flared thought her body as he sent sparks of magic through the wound.

Then, suddenly a flash of white that burned, even through her eyelids. The pain stopped.

"He shouldn't have told me that the magic was somewhere inside me," Said Skulduggery, shaking off the bits of shattered metal that clung to his clothes. She cracked open her eyes, ready for a trick, ready for disappointment.

Her lips tugged themselves into a smile.

He was there, free, walking toward her.

He ignored her wound, her smile, her pleading face. Stiffly, professionally, like he was with a stranger, he simply reached up and began to pick the locks at her wrist.

He didn't know how to act now, now that she knew. He'd been meditating yes, though he was still aware of everything happening around him. He'd spent years exploring the recesses of his own mind, it wouldn't take him long to find his magic. Though, strangely, he could only harness it for a moment, in one spectacular burst of pure energy.

He was back to being a walking skeleton now.

And she was free, collapsed into his arms.

He lowered her to the floor, then stepped away from her. Unsure.

She wouldn't want him to touch her, not now, not with the hands that committed a thousand crimes.

Disgusting, filthy crimes.

His Valkyrie, there on the floor. Another victim.

Her hand was reaching for him, and he did nothing but stare at it. But it was too compulsive, to urging to ignore. He was with her, on the floor, and she was wrapped into him. Not crying, not trembling. Just sore, needing him to be there.

"Stop it," she said.

He made a noise of confusion.

"Not being you," she explained. "I care about what you did. It's just not real, not to me."

"Then you're foolish," was all he said. And she didn't argue, because she knew that no matter what he did, she's always think he was the nearest thing to perfect.

"Can you move?" he asked, and she nodded. "Good, he's not dead. We need to find somewhere safe... er."

And she was up, on her shaky legs, but he was there, like he always was. Only now that she was standing did she try to cover herself. But her hands were numb, and she couldn't use the latches. Wordlessly, Skulduggery offered his help. Without paying the slightest bit of attention to her... nakedness, he buttoned her up.

"The cut?" he said, gesturing towards her stomach.

"I'll be fine, can we go?"

As they moved, Skulduggery was half expecting the chains to stop them, but apparently, they were allowed to head in the direction they were heading. He explained to her that he thinks that she has a better chance of harnessing her magic again, because her powers still hadn't been set.

"You think I can find them?" She asked as they walked, seemingly aimlessly down the dark passage.

"When you were being..." he stopped himself, then coughed slightly, "You were already pulling away from reality. And a place like this, where the unreal is so close to us, I think you have a good chance."

"We're still his prisoners really, aren't we?"

"Yes, and we're going to remain that way unless we get rid of these chains."

"I wonder which one of us... made him," she said as they rounded a corner.

"Both of us. You don't want to destroy the world, and I wanted to be punished. I think this magic is dipping into both of our heads and pulling out the... good bits."

She laughed, nervously.

"Great..."

A/N: 'M ALERT! FEAR THE M!' D=

She was warm, and light. The air felt like clouds and the ground felt like velvet. Skulduggerys hand was on hers, and his voice was guiding her into her own mind. She felt safe, on the outside, and on the in.

She couldn't really hear him, though his instructions were clear. Just let go...

And she did, she trusted him to pull her back to reality, because so far, her subconscious was hauntingly wonderful. She imagined staying like this as her body wasted away. She'd never know, never feel it. She'd be so happy.

She was in her room. A man was looking out of her window.

He turned to her, and the jaw line, matched with the sharp blue eyes gave his identity away. She just knew it was him, even though holding his face was difficult. Again, something that was trying not to be real.

She passed her mirror, saw her reflection pounding at its glass, screaming. Her arm had a tattoo.

She joined Skulduggery as he stared back out of the window.

A war was outside.

Like a beautiful array of fireworks, dazzling the night sky and competing against the stars, people born of magic killed each other. The sight was captivating, and her face lit up with all the wonderful colours of death. The battle field was somewhere that shouldn't have been outside her window, but somehow, she just didn't care.

Skulduggery was holding her hand, she noticed almost passively. But he was warm, and fleshy.

She stared at his face, at him, but her head still couldn't hold the image.

"I'm here to find my magic..." she said. He smiled at her.

"I know, I'm here to help."

And he leaned in and kissed her, just like that. Though her head, logically was screaming 'I don't know how the hell this is going to lead to my magic,' she kissed back anyway. At the warmth, at the softness, at the realness of it all.

She felt that something was very wrong with this, like it was living one of her fantasies, like intruding on Skulduggerys personal space.

But, he kissed first.

He took hold of her shoulders gently, guiding her backwards. All the while their lips never lost contact for more than a second, dancing and melting together. The back of her legs hit the wood of her bad, and she fell backwards. He landed on top of her, kisses becoming more furious, more desperate. She matched his pace automatically.

His hands reached down to unbuckle her coat, and she reached for his suit, fingers tugging awkwardly at the black pinstripes until they fell from his shoulders. He shrugged it off, and she did the same with her coat, leaving her chest bare. He stopped for a moment, admiring her plain beauty in all its magnificence, eyes scanning her as if she was some finished masterpiece. He leaned down and kissed her softly, bringing back all his control, now needing to savour her more than rush her.

Her skin tingled in goose pimples at ever brush of his lips. Slowly, as he kissed her neck, she unbuttoned his shirt. It fell away from him, reviling a pale, toned body. She brushed her hands over him, still silently amazed at his realness.

More kissing, lusty and full. She held him with her legs, pulling him closer. His hand travelled down her torso and his fingers unbuttoned her trousers.

For a moment, all the doubt, and all her rationality came flooding back. This wasn't him.

"But it might be," he said, with a lob sided grin. She look up, eyes full of confusion. "Everything here might be conjured up by both of your imaginations."

He continued to kiss her neck, her breasts, her lips. She didn't react yet, her eyes set on the ceiling, brow set in a light frown.

But he wouldn't do this, she said to herself. Even he wanted to.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't think about it, the mind might be willing... but the body?" the not so Skulduggery murmured as he worked at removing her trousers. Still kissing.

She looked at him. He was branded with a tattoo, just like her reflections... that tattoo...

Her head was spinning. She was numb to everything, but not all at the same time. It was like her mind was fragmenting, trying too hard to think.

She was completely naked now, and her heart was pounding.

"I... I don't want this," she said, pulling away from him. He held her down, not viciously. His eyes were questioning.

"What if I'm the part of Skulduggery that wants you? You can stay with me, and I'll protect you, from all your demons. I'll save you, even from yourself. No more Darquess. No more holding back your feelings from me."

She squirmed away from him.

"Firstly, my feelings are not for you. I... I have someone."

"Fletcher? Ha. You can stop kidding yourself."

"I'm not! I love him."

"Loved him."

The room darkened. Something tapped at the window. Both of them turned to look.

It started to bang. She was suprised it didn't break.

"What... what is that?" she asked.

He turned back to her, eyes slightly panicky. She frowned.

"Just ignore it. We can just sleep, you look tired," he pulled up the blanket and urged her to crawl beneath it. She shook her head, leaping off the bed and moving away from him slowly. She was backing towards the window. She wasn't sure why, but she had to open it.

"Stop it... Don't fret, I'm here. You're safe. Come back away from there and just sleep. I'll look after you."

"I don't need you to look after me," she said firmly. He was moving closer now, and she quickened her step. The banging continued. Urgent.

She pounced for the latch quickly, and he dived for her.

Too late. The window was open, and a very familiar Skeleton pounced through.

He was on top of the fleshy him before either of them could react. There was a slight struggle, but her Skulduggery had the upper hand.

She was frightened, something was different, something was... vicious.

He pounded at the other man with his fists, without pausing, without mercy. And he was yelling.

"You'll never touch her! You're pathetic!" And then his gun was out, and Valkyrie leaned forward to stop him, but it was too late. Skulduggery fired and fired, until he was out of bullets. And the man lay motionless, until he just disappeared.

They were alone.

A/N: Bet some of you feel deprived of a real 'M scene' between the pair! I was originally going to go through with it, but I just don't think Val would, when she knew it wasn't him. Well, I feel like I have to say here, just encase I can't get it across in the next chapter very well... That was the part of Skulduggery that he tried to hide. In other words, it was all his evil too.

Don't question it, if something doesn't make sense, just say magic did it! XD

More M... better M, in chapters soon to come.

And thanks for the reviews again. I'm glad a few of you like that I write Ghastly. I'll be doing more of it. Going to try and drag Tanith in this, in some twisted way of course.

Oh, and having a mother as a beta reader won't work. Not only do I only seem to write at silly times, I really don't want her to read Mness written by me. Sorry if the typos kill things):

See you soon ;3