Something didn't feel quite right as she swiftly yet carefully ascended the ladder towards her goal. Her eyes hadn't left that small scrap of blue peeking over the edge of the platform, since she'd started climbing it hadn't moved so much as a millimetre in any direction. A matter of seconds' climbing found her at head height with the platform. Reluctantly she peered over its edge, almost afraid of what she might find there. It took her brain a moment to fully calculate what it was seeing and even when it had she still didn't quite understand. Lying there on the platform, with nothing else around it, was Sportacus' hat. A frown of worry creased her brow. Something told her that there was more to this situation than met the eye and the flowering bud of curiosity demanded more information. Positioning herself better on the ladder she reached over and picked up the hat. She knew that her fears hadn't been unfounded when she saw a small patch of blood near the back of his hat. Folding it up with one hand she stuffed it in a pocket in her trousers before climbing a little further and moving herself onto the platform.

Being that she was a foot shorter than he husband Greta had little trouble reaching the mouth of the platform. Lifting her hands upwards she grasped the edge of it and pulled herself upwards. Balancing on her hands with her arms outstretched on either side of the mouth she pushed herself back so that she could rest her bottom on the side. This done, she swivelled on her bottom and pulled her legs in at the same time. With her whole body now in the airship, she stood up.

Looking around her she could see nothing but chaos. The lights concealed in the ceiling flickered on and off intermittently. Each flicker sent waves of light across the floor that reflected off the surface of a substance she had encountered on the platform. It was hard to tell just how much blood covered the floor and she didn't have time to estimate, she had to know what was going on, what had happened here. Letting her eyes slide across the floor she spotted a broken figure lying near the piloting section. From the distance away she was at it looked as if they were lying partly on their side and partly on their stomach, the blood looked thicker here as if the were the place they had been settled for some time.

Without wasting any time she ran over to him with her head bowed to avoid striking it upon the ceiling. Despite the mess on the floor she knelt down. Her fears and questions were answered when her eyes fell upon the face of Sportacus. Running a hand over his cheek she was shocked when it felt clammy to her touch and he was deathly pale. He had lost a terrific amount of blood and she didn't know how much longer he could last without medical assistance. Deciding upon a course of action she was about to lift him from the floor when she heard a footstep on the other side of the room. Slowly, very slowly, she turned around and came face to face with the person that was responsible for attacking her friend.

"Lily!" She exclaimed hardly able to believe her eyes.

"Greta, it's been a long time." Came the sing-song reply.

"You're…you're…"

"Alive? Or were you going to say dead?"

"How?"

"That would be telling." Lily mocked a smile upon her face, "Tell me, how's the family? Are the grandchildren alright? I suppose you have great grandchildren as well by now."

"Stop talking and do whatever it is you're going to do."

"I thought you'd like a little light conversation before you die. Oh well, I guess not."

Lily's smile faded into a malevolent frown before she landed an open handed blow on Greta's cheek similar to the one the other woman had given her a few days before.

He opened the door slowly; everything was quiet in the room. Stepping into the room he closed the door softly behind him. He'd hoped she'd be sleeping but her eyes hadn't closed in repose since Cain's attack. She was terrified of the dark. Lying on her side, now, facing the back of the Chaise Longe she was stretched out on and had been for nearly two days, tracing the embroidery in the velvet, she looked peaceful enough but it was a deceptive serenity; one that belied the turmoil within her mind. Every movement in the silence would make her jump; every little shift in the air would spark off a dozen worries. No amount of persuasion had brought her round to having the lights in the room off for not even a second, just the thought of darkness made her heart tremble.

He wanted to help her but he didn't know how or where to begin. Of all the problems they had encountered together before nothing like this had ever arisen and it frightened him. She'd already suffered a break down and he was scared to death that she'd suffer another one. It was on the cards that if she did have another one it wouldn't be far away but that was something he couldn't bear to think about. She'd still not fully recovered from the last breakdown she'd had completely making her all the more vulnerable. No matter what he did he had to keep her buoyant, he couldn't let her sink beneath the turmoil threatening to drown her. No matter what it took he would find a way to make things right. If he didn't there was no hope for her.

He'd been in the room above two full minutes now and still she'd not noticed his arrival. Thinking it best to leave her rather than disturb her while she seemed so content in her occupation, he left the room and headed out into the main part of the club. Shaking his head slightly he sat back at the table he and Ché had occupied like vultures over the last couple of days. With a sigh he lifted his previously discarded drink, a whisky and water, to his lips and took a long draught. The whisky warmed his throat and revitalised his senses while the water helped to keep most of the less appetising affects of the beverage doused.

"You know what I want written on my gravestone when I die?" Kit asked everyone and no one placing his glass back on the table.

"What?" Ché asked having watched Kit in silence for the last few minutes.

"Bugger,"

A slow smile spread over Ché's face before he gave way to a low chuckle which slowly turned into a laugh. His laughter was joined with that of his companion but it seemed as if it came from a stranger. The laugh was hollow, almost without emotion, not the kind of laugh he'd heard come from his friend before. It showed just how much the last couple of week's events had affected the clown and it made him feel cold inside.

Greta recoiled from yet another blow from Lily. She'd lost count of how many times she'd been hit but the amount of times she'd struck back rested heavily in her mind, two or three times at the most. Lily was too fast for her, every time she made to strike the woman she had been hit instead. She was becoming desperate in her defeat, her body was sore and she still had to save Sportacus. His time was running thin but while Lily was going at her full pelt she had no chance of removing him from the airship and out of danger.

Having successfully dodged another incredible blow from her opponent, for the first time, Greta was able to land an equally devastating blow on Lily which sent the woman sprawling across the ground but it still wasn't enough. Lily was back on her feet in no time and back on the offensive. Evenly matched in strength and stamina it seemed as if this was a fight that would never come to an end.

Until something neither person had expected happened.