I just checked the date when I first wrote this fic...and I'm shocked. Two years ago! This means a lot of things—primarily, the fact that I should finish this up! whacks self

Thank you, loyal readers, for your patience! But, I implore you to stretch it a bit more, because everything is precipitating as planned.

Truthseekers
by mierin-lanfear

Chapter Twenty Six

Is there a heaven a hell?
And will I come back?
Who can tell?

- Jem, "24"

"Eight hours to go...approximately," Vera said to nobody in particular.

She stretched herself face-up on the bed, dressed in her black ballgown. She had shed the flimsy, Empire-waisted frocks the twins had made her wear. She held the white silk carnation above her, its petals catching the soft yellow light from the overhead lamps.

With a sigh, she brought the silk flower down, cradling it on her bosom. She turned her head to the window, watching the night fog crawl past the manor—grey mist against black sky.

Four sun-yellow butterflies flitted through the iron grills, entering her room without a sound. They skimmed the air in circles before alighting on Vera—one on one of her feet, the other on her lap, another one on the carnation, the last one on her cheek, like a kiss.

"Please, keep me company for tonight. Talk to me," she breathed out, as the butterfly on her cheek fluttered away and dropped silently on the bed. Its tiny feet barely dimpled the sheets. The other three creatures took flight, responding to some unseen signal. They dive-bombed in graceful arcs on Vera's face, bestowing airy kisses on her, before melting into the air.

A pale, redheaded woman sat beside Vera, her weightless form scarcely displacing the mattress springs. Her gentle, smiling amber eyes glowed with the lamplight.

"Thank you for taking care of Lene, Ms. Gale," the woman said, as she reached over and touched Vera's hand. "You would have been a wonderful stepmother to her."

Vera sat up, the silk carnation tumbling down to her lap. "Frau...Meier..."

"Call me Penelope, Ms. Gale...Vera." Frau Meier inclined her head, a small smile quirking from her lips. "You...called for us."

"Frau...Penelope..." Vera picked up the flower by its stem, twirling it around. Her green eyes reflected a sad, somber light, tracing the irregular edges of the petals. "I want to ask you something."

"Hmmm?"

Crushing the carnation with her hand, Vera looked up at Frau Meier. "How does it feel to die?" She raised her hand, silencing the redheaded lady as the crushed flower bounced from her lap to the hardwood floor. She forced out a laugh. "It's just...amusing that a few months ago...or a century from now...oh, I don't know! I wished to die...and now I will."

Vera sighed, folding her hands on her now-empty lap, fingering the old scars on her wrist. "I always thought myself brave enough to face death than to face life...but, now..." She faced at the lady. "I want to live, Penelope! I want my life back!"

Frau Meier looked somberly at the distraught woman, then opened her arms. "Come, my dear girl..." As Vera embraced her, burying her face on her shoulder, she whispered, "There's nothing to fear, Vera, dear. Death itself is nothing but a...change in view." She clasped Vera's face in her hands, smiling into the tearstained jade eyes. "The way to death is...painful, yes, but the transition is nothing to fear."

Vera broke away from the gentle amber gaze. "I'm not afraid of pain, Penelope...but..."

"You will feel lighter, as if all threads anchoring you to this world are cut. But...for my case, as with the others...lighter does not mean freer than before. You know that we are bound to the Magus' bidding."

"I don't want the threads to be cut!" Vera cried out, pulling away from the ghost. "Cutting them will hurt me more than the pain of dying itself! Those threads..." Her voice trailed off.

"...are your relationships with the living. Cutting them will not hurt..." There was a small hitch in Frau Meier's voice. She looked away from Vera.

"You're lying, Penelope! You miss Lene, don't you? And Johann?" Vera demanded. As the ghost-woman remained silent, she continued, bitter words flowing out, "Why didn't I die before, on the bridge, in my year and place? Why send me here? Why make me forget and heal...?"

Frau Meier began to fade away. "It's not pain, Vera. It's the feeling of sadness...of loss... I'm sorry if I wasn't able to help... I'm sorry..."

When the phantom disappeared, Vera picked up the crushed silk flower and straightened the petals one by one. "Sadness is not the most painful feeling...it's hope." Glancing at the window, into the night sky. "Why did I have to meet you, Holmes...and hope?"

A single tear from Vera became the carnation's dewdrop, as she cried herself to sleep.