Elizabeth and Emma the Dilemma where sat at the base of the tree, first planted from Elizabeth's liberated imagination all those years ago, the soft glow of the blossom all the light Dilemma needed to see the tears glittering within Lizzies eyes as she finished telling the woman all she could remember about the day Fred disappeared.

"And he just never came back?" Lizzie asked, her voice wavering as she took in what Dilemma was telling her, Dilemma nodded, swallowing around what felt like one of Jakes rubber bounce balls that was lodged in her throat.

"No, I waited for him. But he never came, he always promised he wouldn't leave…then when the darkness came-" Elizabeth watched a shiver wrack the young woman's body at the clearly distressing memory, Elizabeth didn't know what their world was like, had never really questioned where Fred came from as a child, had never asked about his world or where he was before he came into her life or where he would go after he left it. Elizabeth looked at the woman beside her, the dim light accentuating the childlike features she had noted upon first seeing the woman, making her look so small, lost beside the enlarged tree trunk she leant against, her legs tucked almost delicately beneath her where Lizzie had pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them. A childhood defense mechanism she had never really kicked.

Dilemma sniffed noisily as a sharp tug in her abdomen reminded her they were on borrowed time here.

"I need your help." She said softly, looking at the woman before her, more a child in this moment than she had been for years.

"How can I help you?" Lizzie asked confused, these where powerful beings surely Dilemma could handle this herself? "Aren't there others in your world that can help you? I mean, what can I do?" Dilemma shifted slightly and spoke at their air above Lizzie head.

"The walls of realities are breaking down. That's what's giving your son his nightmares, children pick these things up their like radio antenna's for the wavelengths other planes send off. That's why we interact with children, their open to us in a way adults often aren't." Lizzie gaped, mind reeling from the assault of information. "That's why my world isn't safe anymore, that's why...I'm not supposed to be here Elizabeth. I broke all the rules to get here; I stole magic and crossed the bridge without permission. I'm not a qualified I.F, you need to be qualified to gain a pass to this realm...I...I took advantage of attentions being elsewhere to sneak here." Elizabeth listened attentively, the walls around reality? Different planes of existence? If Elizabeth weren't sitting within a sterilized recreation of her childhood home beneath an oversized tree with softly glowing blossoms conversing with her son's imaginary friend she would be having trouble believing this. At this precise moment however she was willing to believe anything. "I've been lucky; the powers that be have far bigger things occupying them at the moment than a runaway soul." Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow at the word 'soul', it inferred...Elizabeth thought of Fred of his sparkling eyes and wicked grin...Soul, she had never thought about them like that. Had they corporeal existence at one point? Where they...

Elizabeth refused to even think the word 'dead', skipping over it in her thought process as Emma began to speak once more, her tone still urgent.

"No-one there would help me anyway, even without the bigger fish to fry." She sounded almost resentful...no wistful Elizabeth realized, lonely..."Fred's all I've ever had, before and since..." Her eyes shone in the glow, beseeching Elizabeth silently, her mouth set in a firm line, aging the young face. "And now you're the only link I have to him."

"I-I don't understand." The hard line of Dilemma's mouth seemed to soften without really moving at all at Elizabeth's words.

"Your link with Fred never really dissipated, it remained with you, all the years he waited in the jack in the box, staying loyal to your friendship and his duty as your friend..." She swallowed, thinking of the twenty odd years she had been alone, understanding why Fred stayed and yet resenting both him and Lizzie for it all the same. It had taken a long time for her to come to terms with and forgive Fred for leaving her that long...that was why she knew he wouldn't do it again, she just knew it. "All that time strengthened his connection to you, inside the box all he could do was feel. Observe from a distance as you moved through life trying to understand from echoes of emotion-" Elizabeth's heart gave a flutter at the thought Fred had tried, he had been trying to still be with her despite being stuck inside that box...he hadn't deserted her at all, in fact...Her eyes met Emma the Dilemma's and wondered about all that time her and Fred where forcibly separate. The soul's words 'Fred's all I've ever had' echoing in her mind, she wondered if Fred felt the same, the kind of loyalty he must have towards this girl, Elizabeth wondered if the erratic young man she knew was truly capable of such mature attachment. "You and Fred are unprecedented; an I.F has never been friends with a charge as long as Fred was friends with you." If Elizabeth didn't know better she would think she could hear bitterness in the other's voice...was that envy? No, she was overreacting..."That kind of connection can leave an echo, nothing as strong as what you had before, but it was still there, that's how I managed to speak with you. It's strongest while your asleep because he's plugged into your subconscious mind, I supposed he felt it would be safer for you both to hide his presence there...I saw it this evening an-"

"Saw it?" Elizabeth interrupted, inexplicably perturbed by the idea that she was somehow still visibly connected to Fred, how did it manifest itself? God please don't actually be Fred, hovering over her shoulder all this time without her realizing...That was just damn sinister.

"Yea..." Dilemma smiled the light returning to her dulled eyes at the memory. "It's a spark, green and bright and about the flightiest creature I've ever encountered. Besides Fred of course." She smiled towards the dark haired woman. Elizabeth relaxed a small green sparkle? That wasn't so bad, better than she had feared at any rate. "And it's the only hope I have of finding him again."

Elizabeth blinked before whispering; "How can I help?" Still overawed with the information which had been thrust upon her, her sleepy mind; running purely on the adrenalin of the moment, slowly picking its way through the mass and sifting out the relevant information. Emma the Dilemma surveyed the woman before her, the fine lines that had drawn her face during her relay of her story softening slightly.

"Your dreams Elizabeth, I need you to tell me if you've been dreaming anything strange anything out of the ordinary?" Emma leant forwards slightly, staring willfully towards the other woman as Lizzie pondered what unusual dreams might be to an Imaginary being, Lizzie dreams were frequently filled with scenarios which she would consider strange, however that was the nature of dreams wasn't it?

"Strange in what way?"

"Weird perspectives!" Emma Dilemmas hand flew up to tug at the tangled mass of hair atop her head, fingers catching in one of the ribbons securing her knotted pigtails. "Perhaps unclear visages, viewing scenes or scenarios from the corner of your eye, stuff you wouldn't usually dream of!" Elizabeth tugged at her lip, worrying it between her teeth, she couldn't remember dreaming of anything like that recently… unless…

"Like sensations? Smells?" Emma the Dilemma's eyes seemed to widen a fraction as she nodded, a hurried 'yeah' escaping, lost to Lizzie as she thought back to the dream from earlier in the day, when she had nodded off watching Jake playing in the garden, the strange way the dream had fallen away from her so suddenly, one moment sharp and vivid the next gone. "Blossom." Lizzie closed her eyes trying to pull the few sketchy details she had managed to hang onto after awakening that had been trying to slip away during the day. "I-I think…I was somewhere dark, I could smell blossom, only faintly though like it was far away or something." Sweeping a hand through her hair Lizzie shivered as a sudden coldness swept along her spine like ice cubes had been dropped down the back of her nightgown, the sensation reminding her of another figure in the darkness, slumped and shivering convulsing almost in the harsh chill around them…"There was some-one else there, maybe there was more I don't remember, it was all so hazy, and now I-I don't know whither I'm making this up or-"

"Tell me!" Lizzie felt small hands suddenly grip her own, the words desperate as the hold that took her hands away from where they were gipping her knees to her chest before Emma spoke, her voice soft, beseeching once more. "Please 'Lisbeth, even if you think it's nothing it could mean everything! What is it?" Lizzie eyes blinked open, the dim light of the tree invading her vision, her mind and mouth moving slowly as if she had just awoken from a long sleep.

"It was dark and cold, and there was some-one shivering…violently…." Elizabeth felt an echo of the shiver settle in her spine once more, remembering watching from a distance experiencing what they felt, she couldn't remember it all now but she knew, she knew it had been worse than what she was remembering now; it was like her mind was purposefully blocking it.

Her head fell onto her knees as bile rose in her throat at a sudden stab of fear in her gut, not fear for her present situation, but the ghost of the fear she had felt in that room.

"God I don't remember it properly, but what I remember feels so real…but not." Brown eyes, dewy with unshed tears Lizzie hadn't even realized where accumulating. "It wasn't real though, it was just a-a weird dream…it was wasn't it?" She looked up into shimmering green eyes bessechingly she implored once more; "Just a stupid dream..."

Fred's throat burnt a longing for something he hadn't needed for many years clawing at his esophagus. He tried to swallow around the sensation, a furrow crinkling his brow at the sandpaper roughness, his brain sluggishly removing itself from blurred memories once more.

Water

Fred's eyes fought themselves open onto darkness once more and he fought the urge to groan, knowing it would only make the thirst worse. Thirst that he shouldn't be able to feel Fred realized as his mind finally wrestled itself into some form of clarity, Fred hadn't felt thirst since before he had come to this world. Parched lips parted and his dry mouth opened onto even dryer air intensifying the fuzzy feeling coating his tongue as if someone had coated his entire mouth within thick pile carpeting. Fred definitely hadn't missed this.

"Unpleasant isn't it?" That same voice from before purred from somewhere within the darkness, rattling around his head. "A rather nasty effect this place has upon us. Memories are quite tangible on this plane as I'm sure you've already found. The merest mention can drag up things we have not pondered for many a millennia Freddie…"

"FREDDIE!"

Fred squeezed his eyes shut as his sister's confused face entered his mind, honey eyes wide, her little hand grabbing at the air, pawing as if trying to reach him as they were separated.

"Stop it…" His voice was barely a whisper as he tried to shift, his body as uncooperative as before stayed rigidly where he was slumped against the rough brickwork his back had become numb to by now. Fred's mind spun as he fought the memories away, now he knew he wasn't anywhere he had ventured before, he was somewhere foul, somewhere rotten as the smell within the air. His teeth gritted and ground together as something leathery brushed against his hand; if it were not for the feel of the dry crackling sensation that accompanied it he could almost mistake it for a comforting gesture. Fred didn't know whether he should thank the darkness rather than rue it as he had been previously…did he really want to see what was in here with him?

"Stop what?" The voice almost sounded smug below the hissing crackle that overlaid the others words, the sound enough would send Fred scarpering had he the use of his body, as it was he remained slumped over himself, legs splayed and body inert. "I'm doing nothing to you, everything that is happening to you is your own creation Frederick" Fred felt as if he'd been punched in the gut as the name slithered from the darkness and whipped against his form like it had a life of its own, a sharp gust of cold stale air stung his cheeks and ruffled his hair and before he realized what was happening his mind fogged and slipped away…

The morning air was crisp and sharp against Fred's skin, each sharp gust of wind cut through his thin excuse for a shirt and sliced at his sensitive flesh. Stomping his feet in an attempt to get some heat circulating through his body he glanced up along the line of families much like his own, a member from each clutching an envelope and awaiting their turn for admission to hell. Well Fred considered it hell anyway and he hadn't even been admitted yet. He had heard stories about workhouses, bad stories. He knew he would be separated from his Mother and that alone was a chilling thought, especially to a child who hadn't really spent a single day of the last couple of years too far away from his Mothers watchful eye. He also knew there was a chance he would be separated from Maggie, darling Maggie who was barely in her third year of life upon this earth. Instinctively, as if he feared someone would swoop and steal her away prematurely, Fred moved closer to where his sister stood her tiny hand gripped in an almost ferocious grip by their Mother who stared grimly ahead. Her blonde hair was pulled up into its usual high bun, tied tight and neat, her winter cloak wrapped around her shoulders, the hood pulled high to protect from the biting winds. Her grey eyes hadn't moved away from the building they stood before since they had arrived, she hadn't looked Fred in the eye since that morning when they had prepared to set off. Her behaviour was making Fred feel strange, like he was at fault for their predicament…

Maybe you are. A soft almost snakelike voice hissed deep inside his mind. After all you are supposed to be the man of the house, you promised Father you would look after Mother and Maggie and look where you've ended up! A workhouse of all places!

Fred sniffed and bowed his head, feeling as if the weight of the world were piled upon his shaking shoulders.

Noticing her brother Maggie, who was far too young to have any idea about what was going on or why everyone around her looked so strict and miserable, slid her hand out from beneath her own winter cloak and Fred's jacket that hung limply from her shoulders where he had draped it earlier (she had been so cold Fred could feel her shaking where he stood) and took hold of his pinkie finger and squeezed softly in a wordless gesture of comfort and support. Fred shot her a weak and slightly watery smile from beneath his wayward hair, his mother had tried brushing it out but it had simply become even wilder and now strands where beginning to hang limply before his eyes as the wind buffeted it about. A part of him was grateful Maggie was so young, he hoped silently she would be taken to one of the orphanages as he knew would happen sometimes, be taken and sent to one of the overseas colonies where she would lead a better life than he ever could have attempted to have provided for her. However the larger and more aware side of him knew it was unlikely, and her age would be against her here…he struggled to swallow the lump building within his throat at the thought of what could happen of what would be expected.

The workhouses as Fred had heard of them where cruel and comfortless environments, children worked alongside men and where punished as such too. They were a deterrent, an attempt to keep away all those except who truly had no other option…like themselves. Fred should have known things where bad when Mother mentioned she was discussing selling off the livestock to another local farmer but he didn't think to question it, and cursed himself now.

As they drew closer, finally crossing through the tall intimidating fencing that surrounded the outside of the workhouse building Fred began to be able to make out more of the actual establishment, the building itself and he wasn't sure he liked what he saw. It was tall, three stories of widows all looking dark and filthy stared at him like eyes surveying his every move, a chill run down his spine as a sudden thought dawned upon his young mind; the building looked like a fat squatting spider. Two wings, each one story, spread out on either side from the main building like legs spreading across the earth, the windows where its eyes watching them, its prey walk willingly into its cavernous mouth. The only entrance and exit from what Fred could see was the double doors at the front of the building, before which stood a large figure, hunched over slightly.

"Momma…"Fred's voice was timid and barely squeaked past his pale lips; something had just moved up in one of the windows on the centre floor, someone was watching them! Fred's Mother didn't react to his whimper, simply stepped in time with the rest of the families around them, Fred reluctantly stepping beside her, eyes not moving from the now empty window, waiting…

A silhouette suddenly popped up in the window again, Fred, startled, stumbled in his step and felt his collar being grabbed roughly by his Mother and tugged sharply as he righted his feet, too big boots staggering clumsily over one another as he refused to allow his eyes to wander even a moment from the figure watching them…A glint of light suddenly burst from within the room the figure was in, and although it was only alight a moment he clearly saw the female figure at the window. But that wasn't what made him cry out and attempt to hide behind his Mothers petticoats; it was the brief glimpse he caught of the pale, drawn face staring out at them. He had been wrong, there wasn't anyone watching them, the haggard old woman in the window probably hadn't watched anything for quite some time, for as the light cast her features into sharp relief, Fred saw to his horror (and in recollection at a later date sorrow) that her eye sockets where empty.

"Name." The man's voice was wheezy, despite that it still held authority…or perhaps it was his stature that gave him that. He was a large man, not only in height but body also, his stomach reminded Fred of when the Sow at the farm was pregnant and looked ready to pop. His rounded cheeks where red with burst blood vessels (Fred's Father used to call them Brandy bites whenever he saw someone with cheeks like this man, what that meant Fred had no idea) and squashed his eyes up so much so he was only staring out onto them through tiny slit lids. If it weren't for the situation Fred would probably have found the man himself quite comical in appearance, and had he been home would have mocked him readily. Here however he felt it may be an unwise choice.

"Mollie Howe." His Mother answered her tone of voice that which she would use when running the market stool, Fred instinctively pulled himself to his full height, but only succeeded in causing his throat to ache with the sudden inhale of cold air and his lungs to throb from the pain.

The man inhaled, an action that sounded like it should be rather painful if the rattle in his chest was anything to go by and asked in the same wheezing voice as before;

"And you're Children?" At this Fred felt his Mother's hand clamp on his shoulder and watched from the corner of his eye as Maggie tangled her hands within their Mother skirts, suddenly afraid of the giant before her. "Their ages, and your own." He was writing in a leather-bound book, a quill scribbling to and fro with an irritable scratching sound that grated against his every nerve like a cheese grater.

"My Son is Frederick Howe, aged Seven. My Daughter Margareta is three." The man nodded and took the despised letter from Fred's Mothers outstretched hand, glanced it over and then placed it within his pocket amongst numerous others. "I'm thirty." Fred heard his Mother say, her no nonsense tone was beginning to falter now.

"Possessions?"

"Only the clothes upon our backs." It was true; his Mother had sold everything else before they left in an attempt to pay off the last of the debts she owed.

The man grunted and scribbled something else down into the book, a part of Fred was curious as to what he was writing; he could be writing anything as far as they knew. Scuffing his feet against the ground beneath him Fred fought the very real urge to leg it and try to survive alone on the streets, it may not be much of a life but was willing to bargain it would be better than the one he was going to receive here. What he was not willing to do however was abandon his sister and Mother. That was what made him place his feet strong against the ground and ball his hands into fists inside his trouser pockets, mentally tying himself to the ground he stood upon.

"Reason for Admittance?"

"My Husband has passed and we can no longer provide for ourselves." Fred looked up at his Mother as she spoke, he watched as she blinked rapidly a number of times as if trying to blink the sun from her eyes, despite the fact it wasn't shining that morning, and even if it had been, the intimidating building before them cast such a large shadow it eclipsed them and the four groups behind them entirely.