Bo downed the tequila shot in front of her quickly. This day was getting from bad to worse. The idiot underfae were starting to take a toll on her, despite her accelerated healing. The past weeks she had spent chasing down leads to help Lauren and week after week it was a dead end. And now the Morrigan of the Dark fae was asking her to take up new jobs for her, stating that her unaligned status was becoming more Light, day by day just by association with the detective pair Dyson and Hale. The worst news was that Lauren was still slipping in and out of consciousness, unconscious being the constant state she was in whenever Bo dropped by.

Trick handed her another shot and she threw it back quickly. The bad news about her resurrection was the increased metabolism that came with the speedy healing. This was her seventh shot and she only felt the burn of the liquor sliding down her throat and nothing else. Maybe Lauren could do something about it.

"Whiskey for your thoughts?" inquired Trick, placing two lowball glasses and a bottle in front of her.

"What else? I'm so tired, Gramps. The Ash is just as bad as the Morrigan, making me fetch this, stop that; go here, blow up there. And I'm not getting any closer to finding a cure for Lauren."

"I'm sure the part about blowing things up was only you, Ysabeau," Trick gave a hearty chortle. "Anyway, I came across something that may help."

"Not again, Trick. I hunted a bunch of fairies through the woods only to be caught mid-orgy and I had to collect - no, scrape - their… splooge," Bo gave a shudder as she recalled the incident, "off the floor. Even I got turned off and I'm a succubus."

Trick only laughed harder, refilling both their glasses. Bo rolled her eyes, that was a particularly bad day for her. At the same time she was trekking through the woods filled with moans and, what could only be described as two pieces of meat slapping against each other, she received a text from Kenzi that Lauren was waking up. Feeling the urgency in completing her task, she stumbled into her second Eyes Wide Shut orgy in a month. Usually she would have participated a little, but like the last time, she had no urge to do so. She just wanted to get back to Lauren's side as soon as possible, leaning into the uncomfortable chair that was by the bed's side and trying to fall asleep.

By the time she returned to the Dàl, Bo was more than exhausted but she hoisted herself right off the barstool and went straight to Lauren who, for crying out loud, was back asleep. The lab staff had offered to wake the doctor but Bo knew she could not be selfish, since she did not know what was wrong with Lauren just yet.

"Bo, I know you care about Lauren but why are you so desperate for her to remember - what? What was it that you wanted her to remember anyway?"

"You're right, Gramps, I care about her and I want her to get better, that's all."

"Sounds like you're taking after me a little with all the secrets," he chuckled softly. "And go easy on the whiskey! It's a 200 year bottle!"

The succubus sighed, knowing what direction this conversation was heading. Out of spite, she finished the remainder of the drink quickly, forcing Trick to refill her glass. It was partially for her too, she needed the liquid courage. She did not know why she needed it, it was a relatively easy story to tell but then again, she had always resented her grandfather a little for leaving her in the dark about her heritage amongst a multitude of other things. Maybe she wanted a little secret over his head. Or maybe not, he was offering to help anyway.

"So."

Trick nodded, leaning forward eagerly to take in each word from his grand-daughter's mouth.

"About ten years before Dyson and Hale found me, I lived in a little town north-east of here. You know the story about me running after… feeding off my first 'boyfriend'," Bo air-quoted the word. "What you don't know if that I was in love at that time."

"Kelvin? Karl?"

"Kyle, but no, not him. He was unknowingly my beard, meaning he was my cover for my secret girlfriend, Karen Beattie."

"A cover?"

"You have to understand, Trick, that people in a small town gossip more than the fae you know. And they are religious to a fault. Being a girl loving a girl was more than just something they frowned upon, it was a big no-no and I was a coward. They found out about us and I just retreated into the safe cover I had, letting Karen take the blame. After a month of being closely monitored by all members of the society, it was our prom and we… reconnected that night."

"Reconnected?"

Bo shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Trick, you're my grandpa and I'm filtering words for you."

"Oh." Now it was Trick's turn to squirm.

"Yes, oh," Bo stifled a little chuckle. "Anyway, I was all ready to settle back into the mask of our relationship then I… fed for the first time. I ran after it happened, I was so scared and helpless and I didn't know what to do. I just ran."

"It's not your fault, Bo, you couldn't - "

"I know. I know that now. But at 16, I thought I was a fucking - pardon my French - monster. It doesn't make it any better or easier to live with."

"Nonsense, Ysabeau! You are not a monster! How can someone like you - someone so full of love and understanding - be anything close to a monster! Monsters don't love, Bo! Monsters don't regret!"

"And this is why you're my grandfather," she reached over and gave him a hug, feeling better about her past.

This was an internal war long fought, a struggle she had been having with herself since the night she ran away after the disaster that happened with Kyle. Not that she needed someone to assuage her guilt, she just needed someone to know that she was sorry about her nature, about everything.

"I apologise, my grand-daughter, I still don't know how this is connected to Lauren or what you're doing at all actually."

"Trick," Bo looked up into her grandfather's eyes, holding his gaze. "Lauren is Karen. Well, Karen is Lauren. Karen was my first love then and my first love now. I left things sloppily with her the first time - with the running away and all that. I want to make it up this time."

"What! What? How?"

"You sound just like Kenzi! As did I. Well, in my head at least. I was still in and out of consciousness when I figured it out. Oh wait, you mean how did Karen become Dr. Lauren Lewis? I have no idea, Gramps, I need to figure that out too."

"Kenzi knows too?! Who else have you told, Bo?"

"What does it matter? Why do I feel like you know more than you're saying, again?"

For a moment the Blood King looked constipated, so Bo decided that this was the time to keep pressing for information.

"Trick, we've been through this! Stop hiding things from me to protect me, it didn't do any good with the stupid hybrid actually killing me. I spent two years dead, two years!"

"And I can't be more sorry for that, but Ysabeau, I honestly believed that I was keeping you safe!"

Bo was going to argue that if she had all the information she needed from the people around her, she would probably have had a better chance at finishing the horrendous beast earlier, without the life sacrifice.

"Forget it," Bo said, pouring Trick and herself two measures of the whiskey each. "I just want to know what you know."

Trick gave a huge sigh before turning to go retrieve something from his library. Bo, on the other hand, was honestly trying to not lash out at her grandfather. She understood his reasons, she did, but it did not stop her from feeling cheated by the people she loved - again.

The old fae quickly returned with a thick, leather-bound tome that landed with a dull thud on the bartop. The thousand-year dust flew everywhere as he flipped the pages rapidly to get to what he wanted to show Bo.

"You know I can't read it without Lauren's translations right?" the succubus snapped.

Bo watched her grandfather waddle through another wave of shame. She reeled her anger in.

"I'm sorry," Bo apologised. "I didn't mean it that way. Please translate it for me."

Trick gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes, but began to read anyway, "Daughters of Mnemosyne can bestow the power of lethe, non-memory. They can take away the pain of losing loved ones or alter sequences in the mind. They can hide away vast secrets and change perspectives."

"So I need to find a daughter of Nemo? As in Finding Nemo? Should be better than running through the damn woods."

"Bo," Trick rolled his eyes, giving an exasperated sigh. "Mnemosyne. She's the Greek goddess of memory and her daughters have the ability to take or alter memory."

"Let me guess, they're all fae?"

Trick nodded.

"Great! Where can I find one?"

"I don't even know if this is what you're looking for, you still haven't told me."

"Lauren-slash-Karen doesn't remember me, rather she remembers Beth Dennis but she doesn't seem to know I'm her."

"Have you tried telling her?"

"Yes! I mean, no! But shouldn't she recognize me? I look exactly the same, well maybe a little more now but I'm essentially the same."

"Fun fact, our brains can trick us. Understand that these fae are dangerous, and their powers require sacrifice to work. Also this does sound more like a glamour charm than memoriel alteration."

Bo rolled her eyes, "How about this, grandpa. I'm going to go tell her now and if you can, try to find one? Please, pretty please?"

"Fine," Trick muttered, continuing his mumbling about karma and his ass being bitten while Bo skipped out of the Dàl.

Lauren blinked and struggled to keep her eyes open. Her brain was all mushed up again. Goddamn painkillers. She silently congratulated herself for training her staff well to keep her mind all befuddled with the cocktail they had pushed into her bloodstream. She licked her cracked lips, her mouth felt like cotton and her throat felt like it was cleaned with sandpaper. Reaching to the bedside table, she was surprised at the gift basket of tequila, chocolates and frozen pizza.

She smiled, not really sure who had sent the package. But it was a thoughtful gesture that she deeply appreciated even though she hardly consumed any of those items. This was the first time in a long time that she had received a gift of any kind, they were usually just a reciprocation of the kindness she showed to her patients. Her eyes began to tear up when she realized that her slavery had hardened her in every way possible.

"Dr. Lewis," a voice startled her as she craned her neck to see who it was. "I'm glad you're looking better."

"Ash," she returned the greeting, bowing her head slightly. "You'll forgive me for not being able to kneel."

"Of course, child. How are you feeling?"

"A little dazed, I don't really remember much. Thank you for your concern, sir, but if you don't mind me asking, how long have I been here?"

"Just two days shy of three weeks."

Lauren bit back her gasp, but could not contain her curiosity, "What! How?"

"I'm not sure if I can explain it better than you," Mykael shrugged, placing her own charts into her hands.

He was right. Even if he did explain it all to Lauren, she would not have believed him. It was horrifying to have spent years looking at the flimsy clipboards to find one with her name printed across the top now. The chart stated that her vitals were stable and there were no signs of any damage done to her body or brain. It also stated that she was found unconscious in her apartment before she was brought in by…

"Sir," Lauren asked hesitantly. "Who's Bo Dennis?"