I apologize for the shortness of the chapter; originally, I was going to interweave this with Vash, Knives, and Meryl's return to the Hellpit. However, I realized I'd gone almost a month without updating (mostly due to my losing my first draft of this chapter…still can't believe I did that), so I wrapped this part up and am sending it in. Yeah, I know it's short, confusing, and pretty weak, but don't worry: I have a definite idea of where this is going, and I think there are only going to be three or four more chapters. Oh, and things really kick into high gear next chapter!

Note: if you find yourself confused, refer back to Chapter Three.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these guys or the places they are at. I do, however, own what they say and do in here.

Chapter 9:

Realization

Milly

Time unknown

I get up from the chair I'd been sitting in and walk through the red curtains, into the hallway. I push against the curtains flanking the hall, but they don't give – i.e., there are walls behind them. I walk back into the room I was in, and feel along the perimeter, pushing the curtains. There's walls there, also, but only in certain places. Interesting…

So, I have four directions to choose from. Where to go, where to go…hmm…

I look down, at the zigzag tile design on the floor. Move in the direction they're going, or against the grain. I'll choose going with.

All right, Milly, remember the plan. Now go!

I take off and plow through the curtain in front of me, down the hallway and through that one into another room, through the curtain opposite it into another hallway, and so on and so forth.

My plan is twofold: go straight and don't believe. Last time I was running through this maze picking directions at random in a state of rapidly escalating panic, getting more and more lost until my mind was so frazzled that it must have been easy for this Higher Power (as the dancing man called it) to hijack my brain. But now I know better. If I stay focused and concentrated, it can't do anything. And if it throws something at me, all I have to do is remember that it doesn't exist. Like what Papa told me to do with the boogeyman when I was five years old. And as for going straight, that's simple logic: going straight will eventually get me to the edge of this maze. From there I can run along the edge until I find the exit.

And I'm not worried about food or water. When I was a teenager I was really into that whole "transcendental meditation" thingy and actually got pretty good at it. I learned how to slow down my digestive systems and metabolism so that, should needs be, I can go for up to two days without eating or drinking anything. Ain't exactly camel standards, but it'll do.

My mind stops as I enter a room and find someone sitting there. It looks like Meryl, but I know it isn't.

"Hi, there, Milly," the Meryl-thing says as it fixes me with it's blank eyes.

"Howdy," I reply.

She/it smiles. "You know you're stuck here, right?" She leans forward. "You know we aren't coming to get you."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, come on. Is this the best you can do?"

The Meryl-thing cocks her head to one side. "Why, Milly, dear, whatever do you mean?"

"I know you don't exist. I know that you're just a stupid phantasm, pulled out of my head." The thing laughs, a malicious cackle. "For one thing, you say you're not coming – but you're already here. For another, your laugh isn't like Meryl's at all. And third, do you think I can't see your stupid white eyes? I mean, that's just pathetic."

She/it laughs again, only the laughter has an edge now. The smile drops from its face and is replaced by deadly seriousness.

"Very good, little girl," the Meryl-thing growls in a guttural voice completely unlike the one it was just using, "well played. But keep this in mind; I and my kind are not the only ones in here. There are many rooms alike, and all are occupied by different spirits every night. I hope for your sake that you do not encounter them." It opens its mouth wide, double rows of needle-sharp teeth burst out of its gums and blood runs down its chin, scarlet splattering all over it's white shirt. It explodes in a flash of dirty-orange light, and when the spots leave my eyes, I see that the thing is gone. The bloodstains are still on the floor, though.

Well, that was interesting, I think as I start walking again.

I walk through three more rooms, but the bloodstains aren't on the floors, causing a tingle of victory to flow through me; I just love being right.

I run for a while without another incident. But I'm also starting to get a little freaked out. I mean, I've been doing this for about an hour now, I think (my watch tells me it's 14:67 on February 38th, which apparently is both a Friday or a Sunday; needless to say, I don't really trust it) and the scenery hasn't changed a bit. That doesn't bother me so much, though – desert vistas never change, either, and I'm used to them – but the lunatic hugeness of this place does. I mean, how many exactly similar rooms can there be? And how come whenever I made a change in one room beforehand, all the rooms changed – but not now? And how many more rooms do I have to run through until I get too theh edge? God, I could really use some pudding right n-

WHAM!

Oh, ow…

I pick myself up off the floor, gingerly feeling my nose. Nothing broken, that's good, but Christ that hurt!

…waitaminute. I ran into a wall where a door should be. Does that mean what I think it does? Only one way to find out.

I open the curtain and am met with a wall. Yup, that's what I thought: I've reached the edge of the maze. Which way to go now? Hmm…left or right, left or right, left or…

Left works for me.

Through another hall, into another room. I check the curtain to my left. Still a wall. Next room, wall behind the curtain. Same with the next room. Next room, same. Next room, same. Same, same, same, same, same.

Eighteen rooms down the line, I open up a door and find a shuttered window. This is promising, if I can get the shutters open to see where it goes. I wedge my hands in the crack between and pull with all my might. Nothing at first, then there's an enormous KRAK! and I fly backward and land on the statue, knocking it and the pedestal over. For the second time in fifteen minutes, I pick myself up off the ground and stretch out, feeling the cricks in my back and neck. I feel a sharp pain in my leg and notice a marble shard sticking out of the back of my thigh. I pull it out, and not that much blood flows out, so I think I'm safe in assuming that it's just a flesh wound. Good thing, too: I am not pulling down my jeans to get at it, not while I know I'm being watched. Limping a little, I walk to the window.

Of all the things I was expecting, this was most definitely not one of them.

I freeze, feel my eyes widen in shock and I turn around and back up so sharply my back slams against the wall next to the window. I squeeze my eyes shut and jam my fist into my mouth and bite down to stifle what might be the only scream of terror I've ever uttered since puberty. Finally, when I get my breathing and heartbeat under control, I turn back around and look back out the window, hoping blindly that what I saw was just a hallucination. But it isn't. It's there.

This isn't Gunsmoke. It's oblivion. Not darkness, but oblivion. I recognize it for what it is because darkness isn't alive, it doesn't pulse or writhe or expand. And there are things in there. Bad things. Things huge and black and almost without shape. Things with fiery red eyes, flat eyes, eyes with no soul in them. Things that only want to kill and consume and suck out all that is good in this world and replace it with death and darkness.

I want to tell myself that it's just an illusion, that it's just the Higher Power screwing with my head, but this is real. I just know it, deep in my soul.

But dear God, what are they?

"They are the future, my dear," a familiar voice says from behind me. "The future of your puny universe and every other."

I shut my eyes again. Don't listen to him, Milly, he isn't really there.

"Oh, but I am, Milly. I'm here just like you are." The voice gets closer. "I can see you haven't entirely enjoyed your stay here in my little abode. So, I shall make it up to you. Open your eyes, my lady, and gaze upon the true inhabitants if this universe. We lost our foothold here once, but never again. We may now take back what is rightfully ours, in a large part thanks to the generous energies donated by my son, whose form I now wear."

My eyes open in a shock that burns me to the core, but I shut them firmly again and keep my back to him. It's all a lie, a great big lie, that thing isn't his father, it can't be, I won't believe–

"You best believe it, dearie." The thing's right behind me now, and I can feel its fetid breath on my neck as its voice drops to a whisper. "He'll be coming here, along with his imbecile brother and your lady friend." It chuckles low in my ear and places its hand on my shoulder, and I have to make an effort not to shudder at its wormy touch. "I left a welcome wagon for them, but I'm sure they'll take most of it out. In fact, I suspect they should be along at any moment." Its lips press against the shell of my ear and my disgust triples. "And when they finally come in," it breathes, "the fun will really start." I feel its cold, slimy tongue slip into my ear canal and the dam bursts. I spin around and slam the thing in it's false face with all my might over and over and I can feel the skin of my knuckles break, but I don't care. I pummel it again and again in its face, its gut, its groin, all the while screaming in pure fury. When I finally stop it doesn't look even vaguely recognizable; it looks like my doll that Big Big brother burned with a magnifying glass when I was seven and he twelve.

The ruined face contorts into what was supposed to be a smile, but now looks like a sadistic grimace. "You have a lot of spirit, girl. I'll let you live for now. Perhaps I'll even give you a ringside seat for Armageddon. Just wait for the deathflash." It laughs and disappears in another flash of orange light.

I run as fast as my wounded leg will let me, not looking back, not looking to either side, just running and ducking through curtains and trying not to lose control. It was all a lie, Milly, just keep telling yourself that. That's it. All lies. Why would that thing tell you the truth, it's a liar, it has to be, he can't be his father, his father, he can't be, there's just no way

(in large part due to energies donated)

no, he didn't give up any energy ever, except maybe –

(I call it my angel arm)

stop thinking that, he didn't know what he was doing, besides he was being forced to do it, that's what he said, that's what he told me and he wouldn't lie

(energies donated)

(angel arm energy donated)

(two cities angel energy)

(two cities destroyed lots of energy)

(July Augusta)

(energies donated…during the destruction?)

I stop running and fall into one of the chairs.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God…it's all true…

I can't cry. Not now. Not while that thing is watching me. But…but…oh dear Jesus how can he be it's son?

"I'm not sure, Milly. He just is."

No. Not him again. Not again. Never again. I feel rage building up inside me again. How dare it come back to me in that form? How dare it? Hasn't it already done enough to dirty his name? In one swift move I leap up and charge into him, fists and feet and teeth flying. Why won't this miserable bastard just leave me alone? Why does it have to guilt-trip me and violate me every chance he gets? Why why why why WHY?!

"Milly! Milly, stop! It's me. It's me!"

He catches my hands and holds them and forces my eyes to meet his, but they're not blank. They're deep and rich and alive.

"It's just me."

It…no. No, I want to believe it, but I can't. Not after what I've been through. Besides, he's dead.

It nods. "I am dead, Milly. But I'm really me. I'm not one of his minions."

I shake my head. "I…I can't believe you. I'm sorry, but I just can't."

He takes my hand in both of his and holds my gaze. "Do you want me to prove it to you? Do you want me to tell you how I know you like chocolate pudding the best because it was the first kind you ever had? Or how you got so good at chess because your brother made you play it with him all the time when you were little? Or how your first pet dog got run over by a drunk driver and you cried for a week because you felt you were responsible? Or how you got your first kiss under the mistletoe at a Christmas party when you were 16, and afterwards you wondered what the big deal was? Or-"

"STOP!" I scream, trying to hide my tears. "Just…please stop."

"Or how I told you that, no matter what you did in this world or the next one, I'd always love you?"

I stop trying to hide it. Great, heaving sobs hitch out of my chest and I bury my face in his shoulder and wrap my arms around him. It is him. It really is. It's really Wolfwood.

"You did a great thing, you know," he whispers in my ear once I get myself under control. "For Knives. You were able to do what no one else did. You did more than heal him, you saved him. You made him sane again."

I look up at him, surprised. He nods and smiles. "Oh, yes, I know about that. I've been watching you for a while. In fact, I've, uh, been your guardian angel." His smile fades. "But it's been hard following you in this place."

"What is this place, anyway?"

He shrugs uncomfortably. "It's, um…I'm not sure I can explain it, at least not without blowing your brain apart. You better sit down for this." I do, and he sits next to me and takes my hand in his.

"You see, Milly, this isn't real. Well, no, it is, but…" his brows furrow, deep in thought. "It's a different kind of reality. In this place, all the laws of physics are completely thrown out the window and everything is done according to a single design. Even time is funky; a day over here can last months over on the other side. Now, originally, this was a prison for a really nasty thing I'll call BOB, but-"

"BOB?"

He waves his hand dismissively. "It's a name he went by once. Anyway, BOB's been able to gain control of this place somewhere down the line, but it's only partial control. He can't influence things directly, but…"

"But he can influence the mind of anything that comes in here," I finish.

"Exactly. But since everything's fundamentally different, it takes a huge effort just to be here, and I already got tired and blinked out once. That's why I wasn't there for you when he…when…" He hangs his head. "When he violated you." Anger starts creeping into his voice. "I'm so sorry. Words can't say how sorry I am. I know that just sounds corny, but it's true." He laughs bitterly. "Here I am, charged with a task by God himself, to be looking out for you, and I wasn't when you needed me to the most. I could have stopped him, or distracted him, or something, but I didn't!" He gets up and shoves one of the lamps over, then slams his fist into his forehead. "I didn't do anything! Not a goddamn thing! All because I got tired and let my watch drop! Aw, God, I completely fucking abandoned you, Milly!" I take his hand, but he avoids my gaze.

"Nick, it's okay." He shakes his head. "No, Milly, it isn't. I mean, what he did to you was the absolute worst thing that can happen to anyone, even death." Tears of pure rage stream from his eyes as his voice starts rising. "I mean, when you're dead, that's it. Dead, gone, no one can do anything else to you. But rape, rape you have to live with, forever! People say you get over it eventually, but they're fucking liars. It never goes away! Never! And I let it happen to you Oh God I'm so fucking worthless!"

"Stop it!" I slap him across the face, and he quiets, the rage in his dark eyes replaced by shock.

"That was for calling yourself worthless. You can't beat yourself up over something you had no control over." He opens his mouth to protest, but I hold up a hand and he shuts it again. "Whatever happens to us happens for a reason, and there was a reason you weren't there, that you 'blinked out.' " I put my hand on his tearstained cheek. "Nick, if it hadn't happened, I would have never figured out how to beat this thing, this BOB. I would never have figured out his weakness."

A thin smile spreads over his face, and I return it. "And what you told me that night holds true for you too," I say. "No matter what you do, in this world or the next, I'll always love you. Always." I lean forward and kiss away his tears, and he laughs and wipes away the rest. "Well, Milly, if nothing else, you can say you've seen an angel cry."

"Nick, is what he – BOB – is what he said true? Is his son really–"

"Yes," he replies, all jocularity gone too.

"But…but then…" something comes together in my mind and I feel fresh horror wash over me. "My god…the deathflash…" I whisper.

"What is it?"

"He said to watch out for the deathflash. I just figured out what he meant!"

"Milly, what's a deathflash?"

"When we die, we lose all our life energy in one massive surge. They call it a deathflash." I lean closer. "Don't you see? I'm bait, Nick! I'm here to make sure his son will come! And when he does, BOB's going to kill him! And then he'll use the energy from the deathflash to get free!" I jump up off the couch and run to the curtain. "I have to get out of here and warn him!"

He shakes his head sadly. "No you don't, Milly. It doesn't matter anymore."

I spin around, shocked.

"Milly, they're already here. All three of them. That's what I originally came here to tell you. It's too late."