Nell was inwardly thrashing, screaming, clawing. Outwardly, she was as still as death, staring wide-eyed at the woman at the foot of the couch, neck bent at a jarring angle. Only her gasps filled the room and, for what felt like hours, she stared.

What hell was life if it could be this cruel to her? If it showed her this apparition night after night but never the man she loved? She pictured Arthur there beside her, telling her to breathe, but all she could see was his dead body, broad frame completely still at the feet of the bent-neck lady. The pit in her chest grew deeper, wider.

She tried to curl her hand into a fist, but it was like staring at the clouds and trying to fly. A wish. A twitch of a finger but nothing else. Her husband's murderer mocked her, and Nell screamed silent, horrible screams.

She heard her front door open. She stopped trying to move, holding her breath.

Arthur?

"Nell?" called a familiar voice and tears started spilling from her eyes.

Luke.

He walked into her living room heading toward her bedroom door when he saw her on the couch. Relief filled his face when they locked eyes and the tension in her chest melted. He knew what this was, recognized the signs. The string yanking her heart toward the black pit slackened with each step he took toward her.

He crossed to where she lay and knelt beside her. "Hey, Nell," his voice was soft and gravelly.

His hand found hers, touching her palm with tender fingers. Then he did something he hadn't done since they were sixteen.

He lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him. Her tears came faster. He smelled like home. Not the same home-smell she associated with her adult life and with Arthur, but that childhood-home smell that made her feel small and safe.

The broke-neck lady never seemed to move. It was something Luke discovered when they shared a room and he had gotten big enough to carry her. Now, Luke carried her into her bedroom, and the ghost remained behind them in the living room. Nell felt her heart rate slow, and then she became panicked again when Luke turned back to the door, one finger snagging on his shirtsleeve. He turned back, tracing the back of her hand with his.

"I'm just getting the first aid kit from the bathroom, I'll be right back."

He disappeared and Nell started flexing her fingers, feeling motion return to her body. When Luke reentered with a kit in hand and sat down on the edge of the bed, she was able to give him a bear-hug.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice breaking with tears.

"I thought you might need the company." She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her tears wetting his shirt. He held her until her breathing evened out, then gently pushed her back and took her hand in his, brandishing Neosporin and gauze.

"So, did you lose a fight with a curling iron?" he asked with a laugh. The way he said it was too casual, and he was avoiding her gaze as he worked.

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. Sure enough, she had a burn in the shape of her shower handle across her palm.

"Huh, I didn't feel that."

Luke glanced at her then. "You didn't feel a second degree burn?"

"No… I just… turned the shower handle."

"Ah. Well this should help." He tied off the gauze, and she held up her hand with a chuckle.

"It's like I'm wearing mittens," she wiggled her fingers. Her hand was a giant softball of cotton with a Mohawk formed of fingertips. He took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips with a smile.

"Wait! You should be at the clinic, please tell me you didn't leave for me," she demanded, grip tightening on his hands. The picture of him lying in an alley, all of it her fault, flashed before her.

"No, I got a day pass. I'm spending today with you, then I'm heading straight through those front doors of the rehab, promise. I'm bringing your brother back."

Nell felt her throat close, but she'd had enough of crying. She couldn't believe it. All this time missing him and here he was. She hugged him again, hardly believing he was there unless she had his warmth in her arms.

"Well what do you want to do?" she asked, and he checked her clock. It was 5:20 am.

"How about you get some sleep. You need it. When you wake up we'll go somewhere for breakfast and then maybe we'll go to the beach."

Nell pressed her lips together. "I don't want to waste your day pass. You'll have to head back tonight."

"Then we'll set an alarm. 9 am?"

"Try 8," she leaned over and set the alarm beside her bed, before glancing nervously to the foot of her bed. "You'll stay with me right? You've got to be tired."

"Sure."

Without asking or offering to take the couch, he took off his jacket and shoes and climbed into bed beside her. Nell was grateful. Begging not to be left alone might have been too much for her.

She turned off the bedside lamp and lay down. She curled beside her brother, and for the first time in forever, the darkness wasn't lonely.