Disclaimer: I don't own the Hollows or any of the characters associated with it, nor am I associated with KH or her publishing company. I am not making any money off of this publication. I'm just playing in the sandbox.

Last Time:

"Well, damn my dame! It IS you, Rachel Mariana Morgan!"

Oh shit.

Chapter 5 – I Am Not Myself, You See

I immediately recognized the tone in Al's voice. It was his pleased voice, as if he had conned yet another demon out of something particularly valuable, or maybe he had caught an idiot human in his web of lies, or he had stumbled upon something so expensive, that he couldn't wait to sell it off. I turned to look at him, seeing his usual frock and coat, the small glasses perched on his nose, and his top hat. What scared me, though, was the look on his face, that of a cat with the canary finally in his clutches. My Al wouldn't look at me like that anymore; he knew that I was under the quasi protection of Newt. This Al was probably still thinking of me as his personal property. I had to disabuse him of this notion and fast.

Before I could even think of what to do next, a blur of motion flew past me towards Al. Ivy. Shit. I couldn't follow her movement, as she was moving with the speed of her race, bolstered by the powers of the night around us. Still, while I had trouble seeing Ivy race towards the demon, Al had no issue with capturing her movements. Quickly he lashed out, sending Ivy flying towards the back of the church lot. She hit hard, which didn't so much bother me, as I knew how tough Ivy is. What did bother me was that Ivy didn't move to get up right away. I hope Al didn't permanently hurt her, or there would be hell to pay. Despite my great desire to run to Ivy's side, I knew I needed to deal with Al first; he would have no compunction about hitting me in the back as I went to check on my lover.

I grabbed a hold of the line in our backyard, spindling up as much energy as possible. Al quickly noticed what I was doing, eyes widening at the amount of energy I was holding. A gleam of avarice showed in his face, with a vestige of fear hiding there as well. I obviously became that much more valuable in his reckoning, as well as becoming much more dangerous. Sensing the conflict within him, I smirked at his obvious reticence to start something that he might not finish. I remembered a spell he taught me that could bind most demons, preventing them from harming you. Al had intended that this spell help protect me on my visits to the Ever After, but why not use it on him as well? I am sure he wouldn't give me any spell that he couldn't counter, but I wanted this Al to see what I could do. I hoped that this would increase that reluctance in him, preventing a long battle that I would probably lose.

Creating a ball of blue fire in my hand, I threw it at Al, intoning the spell, "Funis ardens obsequii!" While casting still felt weird due to the lines being off, I was happy to see the ball turn into a rope and twist itself around Al multiple times, binding his arms and legs together. The shock on Al's face was quickly replaced by anger and pain. This binding spell burned at the souls of demons, but would not ever hurt any mortals; that made it a very effective defensive spell for me to have. Still, as I had expected, Al quickly muttered something, causing my spell to dissipate. While the pain had fled his countenance, the anger was still there in full force.

"How in Hell did you learn that spell, witch? Who taught you? Some demon has to have been teaching you, for you to spindle leyline energy as you did, and cast that spell. No one knows of that spell, excepting Newt and myself, so how in all the Hells did you learn it?" He strode quickly up to me. Hastily I erected a circle around me, but I had no aspirations that it would hold for very long. I had neither the time nor the ingredients to make a stronger circle. I'm not even sure a stronger shield would stop Al. Still, I kept feeding energy to the shield, hoping that it would at least slow him down. I needed to think of something else to distract him.

Unfortunately, my thoughts were not nearly as fast as the demon striding towards me, He swung his fist at my circle, easily taking it down when he made contact with it. What surprised me was that he stopped mid swing, looking at his fist. Then he peered at me for a moment before his glasses reappeared, perched on the end of his nose. The anger had left his face, which was good and bad. Yes, not having a demon look at you angrily was always a good thing, but he looked troubled and perplexed. I had to wonder if he was finally noticing that I was different. His hand came up swiftly, grabbing a hold of my chin, moving my face to one side, then the other. His brow creasing further, Al looked like a child being given a highly technological toy and having no idea what to do with it. He'd eventually start asking questions, so I thought it best to keep my mouth shut until then. No sense in pissing him off even further. See, I can be taught!

Al started muttering to himself, which was almost never a good sign. He was deeply disturbed by what he saw, I could tell. Still, trying to be patient while a demon is holding your face, all the while wondering if the love of your life is hurt, is not an easy thing to do. Finally, the silence got the best of me (I suck at waiting, not that that's a shocker) and I wrenched my face from his hand. The motion pissed him off, but I was tired of being looked at like I was a two headed snake or one of the other weird things Jenks would show me on the Internet. My anger showed in my voice when I told him, "Al, get off! You want to look, feel free, but stop treating me like an animal you are inspecting at the state fair!"

For a moment I thought I saw a brief glimmer of amusement at my words on his face, but if it was there, it was quickly quashed. If anything, he looked concerned, which really concerned me. Al was always the cavalier type, with no worries in the world. Everything was played out for his benefit, which is why he would get super pissed if things ever went wrong. Still, I was in a bit of a shock when he questioned me. "Who are you? What are you? Where are you from? You're wrong, for sure; you aren't the Rachel Mariana Morgan that I knew. Why are you here?"

The tapping of his feet, which increased as his questioning went on, really alerted me that Al was upset about my presence and unsure what to do with me. That made me nervous. Even when at his worst, Al always presented an air of calmness and confidence. It was almost like he was scared, which was very concerning.

"Al, I am Rachel. I was in a lesson with you 2 days ago when someone came to your rooms and picked a fight over me. I was trying to line jump home when something hit me from behind. I woke up here. How did I get here? I know that I'm not where I'm supposed to be, but how do I get back to where I do belong? I was hoping you could answer these questions, and with as little grief as possible for a change." I paused here, hoping that my demonic teacher would come up with a grand and magnificent plan to get me back where I belonged. For the first few minutes, he kept repeating the word "lessons" with a shocked look on his face. Soon after that, though, came further peering at me and more mumbling. I was not feeling too hopeful at this point; my Al would at least have started lying that he knew what to do, but he needed the right book to do it. The fact that Al was preoccupied didn't give me much confidence that he had any kind of answer. Soon I got a response, but not one that was thrilling.

"I'll be back. Stay here! Don't make me come find you!" With that, he disappeared into the lines. I had to wonder if stay here meant this exact spot or just the church in general. I had started to go check on Ivy when the sound of displaced air indicated another arrival: Al and another demon had shown up. Dali! He, at least, was fairly honorable as demons went. I felt a lot more at ease with his steadying influence on Al. I had a lot more confidence in Dali's abilities and demeanor, which meant that I had no fears about going up to him to ask what the plan was. Before I could say a word, though, a gesture from Al froze me in place. I couldn't move any muscles, including those necessary for talking. Great; the slab of meat is now on display. Thankfully, my eyes were already fixed on them, so I could see what was happening.

Despite the fact that I was frozen in place, I could still feel what was happening. I felt one demon draw from my line. (Yes, my line, even though I was sure that others used it. I was possessive and protective of it.) Then I definitely felt the creep of curses over my skin, probing me in a rather invasive way. If I could move my mouth, I'd definitely be giving them a piece of my mind, so maybe it was best that I couldn't. This process went on for a good 10 to 15 minutes. I positively suck at waiting, which Ivy could attest to, so I was feeling more and more angry that I was being poked and prodded like I was a horse for sale. Al was just standing there, letting Dali do all the work. Al wasn't a particularly patient demon, so it didn't surprise me that he finally spoke up.

"Do you see it, Dallkarackint? At first I missed it as well; it wasn't until I felt her circle directly that I could discern a difference." Al looked very concerned and almost fawning. Something had to be different here with Al's standing; I'd never seen him kowtowing to any demon before. Dali was actually looking at me rather closely, but seemed a bit annoyed that he was even here. After a few moments of appraising me like I was a haunch of meat waiting to be cut up, Dali nodded his head almost imperceptibly.

"Yes, you were right to come find me. This is very bad," Dali opined, shaking his head. "Her presence here will disrupt the fabric of this world. We will need to send her back, as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I don't know of a way to do so. We can't simply kill her, as it wouldn't change her wrongness. Everything that is from her world needs to be returned. We're going to need help with this, Algaliarept. Every single bit of her will need to be cleansed in order to bring order back."

With those words, both demons disappeared, gone back to the Ever After, doing who knows what. I hoped that they would return soon with a solution, but I had bigger concerns at the moment, specifically Ivy. She had yet to get up from the blow that Al gave her. After Al and Dali departed, I found myself free of whatever spell they had put on me. I quickly walked over to Ivy, checking for a pulse first. I'm not sure that I could handle Ivy being an undead on top of everything else that had occurred in the past 3 days. Thankfully she was breathing; in fact, it seemed like she was asleep. A quick check with my second sight didn't show any curse on her, so I shook her awake. She was very bleary at first, but, as her wits came back to her, she quickly jumped to her feet, looking around.

"They're gone," I assured her. "Al told me I was wrong and went and got Dali. Dali said I needed to be sent back; he seemed very distressed at my presence. I'm not sure what they meant, but they were definitely worried about it."

Ivy nodded, not seeming in the slightest concerned. It probably fell into that whole magic category, one which she accepted the presence of but never quite understood nor accepted. Still, I expected something more than apathy from her. I studied her for a few minutes, noting that she was not looking at me. That's when I remembered what had happened early tonight.

"Ivy…" I started, unsure of how to address the issue, let alone bring it up. How do you ask your best friend and lover about your concerns that they might be a sociopath? Unable to think of a tactful way to question her about this, I decided on my tried and true tactic of being incredibly blunt. "Ivy, you killed those men. No, you outright murdered those two, who didn't pose any threat to me or you at the time. Why? It doesn't seem like you have any regrets about it, either, or at least I can't see any. We had beaten them. Why, Ivy?"

While I was speaking to her, Ivy could never meet me in my eyes, looking at just about everything else but me. My years with Ivy had taught me that she was going to deflect or outright ignore me about this. It used to piss me off when she did so, but I had started learning Ivy better since we had become a couple. This avoidance generally meant that she was ashamed of what had happened and didn't want to discuss it. I had slowly gotten her to accept talking to me about it instead of avoiding the topic, and I had learned to become more patient with her as she struggled against the notion that I would reject her over the problem. Still, I needed answers, and she had them. I reached over and gently cradled her face, moving her head so that she was looking at me. Ivy loved to be touched, so I knew that this would help mollify whatever negative emotions she was experiencing. I could see emotions warring on her face, until she finally sighed and decided to speak.

"I didn't tell you everything that has happened regarding that group," she started reluctantly. "They used to be a much larger group, eight strong. They showed up two or three months after the army had passed through. They never attacked me directly with everyone; they always used feints, attracting my attention with one group while another raided my crops. I'm really spread out, so it was impossible to keep them completely out. I made sure to injure them when I could, trying to prevent further losses of food that I needed. That first year was very rough; the little bit of produce I could grow supplemented the canned goods that I was able to scavenge. If they had stolen much more, I might not have made it. They never seemed interested in downtown Cincy; they were always after what I grew. None of them were recognizable, like it was being done as a method of revenge, so I'm not sure why they continually harassed me. I guess they decided that 8 on 1 was a lot easier than dealing with any other groups out there.

"About a year later, Erica came to find me. I'm not sure why or what had happened to have her come back to Cincy. I hesitate to guess, because I can only think that something happened to my parents. If my father finally died, Erica would probably have left them to seek out her last remaining living family member. She had never felt close to our mother, so my father was the only reason she stayed with them. At any rate, she came to the church when I was out, tending to a field some blocks away. I noticed movement as I was weeding the carrots. I knew that it couldn't be good, so I headed towards it, finding three of the hunters, those three I just killed, come to pillage. I confronted them and forced them back to their side of the agreed upon line. I didn't know it was all a feint; it all felt like a standard grab and run that I was used to seeing and stopping. Those three kept me busy while the others hit their true target: the church."

Tears had started falling down her cheek as she spoke. I really wanted to comfort her right then, but I knew that she needed to finish what she had started.

"Five of them converged on the church, with the thought to loot it, I'm sure. They thought it safe, as the others drew me away. They obviously didn't expect to find Erica there. While I was still with the other three, I heard the faint sound of gunfire coming from the direction of the church. I sped back home, running as fast as I could. It was daytime, so I was slower; it felt like I was running in slow motion, with no idea what to expect. I'm not sure it would have mattered even if I was faster. No more gunfire was heard on my trip back. I found the five of them stealing what they could find. I found my sweet, innocent sister dead in the sanctuary.

"Rage possessed me like never before. Erica never learned to fight or defend herself. She stood no chance against them. My rage overtook my conscious mind; I lashed out and slaughtered all five of them." Ivy paused for a moment, as if the memory was a harsh one. "It was a slaughter; several were torn in half over my grief and anger. I wept over her, feeling a deep hurt that had last overcome me that day when I found your body in Mackinaw.

"I dumped the dead bodies at the border, where the other three couldn't miss them. I wanted them to be angry, to feel rage; why should I be the only one who suffered? I think I scared them more than anything, as I didn't see them for several months after that. I took Erica home; it felt right to put her to rest at the place she called home for her entire life. She was too young to transition to an undead; she only had the one death. I was grateful for that, as I'm not sure I could handle my baby sister being a soulless being.

"That's why I killed those three. Erica would still be alive if I hadn't been begrudgingly accepting of their presence. I let them live in some misguided notion of morality, where I believed that life was sacred, that enough people had died already. If I had just killed them when I first saw them, my baby sister would still be with me. Erica paid the price for my morals; her death was ultimately my fault. There was no way that I was taking a second chance with those three; they would not have the opportunity to hurt you like Erica. I assured myself that they would never get that chance."

Tears streaked down my face at the thought of Erica, gentle, sweet Erica, being murdered by them. It made sense, at least in some way, that Ivy would feel threatened by them. No, Ivy didn't feel threatened; she felt scared at another potential loss that would tear at her soul, like the loss of Erica did. She had lost everything and everyone that was important to her; I really couldn't begrudge her feeling like I was at risk. I can't say that I would do the same if I were in her position; I've never been that traumatized, where a family member was killed and I felt it my fault. I knew that Ivy was taking this blame to the extreme, even though this action laid entirely at the feet of those 5 who slew Erica and not to her. Ivy had been hurt too greatly; she was punishing herself for imagined wrongs that resulted in the loss of her sister. Well, to be honest, she was probably punishing herself over my and Kisten's deaths as well. I knew that my Ivy blamed herself for Kisten's death, when it was easily placed on Piscary and Art.

I had no idea on where to go from here. Ivy was too imbalanced mentally to easily accept that she was not to blame. Too much had happened in her life that ate at her sanity. She was completely in survival mode, solely for herself until I showed up. Now she felt responsible for me and was willing to kill to ensure that no harm could come to me. I don't necessarily approve of this, but I can't see any easy way to address this with her. Should I chide her for this? Was she expecting praise from me for protecting me? What was she expecting from me? Did I even have the right to judge her? I wished that I had answers. While I sat here thinking on this story, Ivy was watching me carefully. Her blank face was present, leaving me no clues to what she was feeling. I had to say something; she did open up herself to me, exposing a deep pain that was probably still hurting her. In the end, I decided that she was still Ivy, even if she was not my Ivy, and I still loved her.

"Ivy," I started, still unsure what to say. Best to just wing it like normal. "God, Ivy, I'm so sorry." With these words, I moved to her side and hugged her; she gave what I used to receive from my Ivy: the wooden embrace. She certainly wasn't returning my embrace nor did it seem like she was enjoying the hug that I felt was genuine. "Ivy, I'm sorry for what I said earlier; I understand now why you did what you did." I don't have to say I approve of it, just that I understand it. "Please forgive me, as I judged you too quickly, when I should have given you the chance to explain."

My words started to have an effect on Ivy, as she began to relax in my arms. I never felt like she fully relaxed in my hug, but it was progress of a sort. I stepped back and looked into her eyes, seeing the sadness within them. I quickly stood on my tiptoes, planting a swift but loving kiss on her soft lips. Surprise blossomed on her face before she returned to her more stoic countenance. She gave me a soft nod and moved over to her grinder, as if the demon encounter and her tale of Erica hadn't occurred. I felt sad at this, as I surmised that this is how Ivy had survived, by focusing on what she needed to do to survive. Yes, technically it was living, but not much of a life. I watched as she bent to the task of grinding wheat under the pale light given off by my orb of light.

What should I do? I won't be here forever; should I try to get her to open up knowing that my departure would just be another hurt that she would need to endure? It's Ivy though; can I really not try to get her to be more joyful? My Ivy and I had been good to each other; we had both ensured that the other was happy at all times. We were both hurt by past events, that it was hard to feel that joy. We became what the other truly needed, which is why our relationship worked so well. Could I really not endeavor to give this Ivy the same experience?

I really couldn't predict what the future held. All I knew was that this Ivy needed to feel joy in her heart. She needed to feel loved and cherished. I knew that she was tortured with the feelings that Piscary had instilled in her; she felt like a monster, because of the blood rape by Piscary and her subsequent need to start needing blood again after her three year fast. I did all I that could do to convince her otherwise at the time, but it was still there when we became a couple. My Ivy had the benefit of my love to help her rise above these negative emotions that had plagued her for years. This Ivy hadn't had the chance to overcome these feelings before her Rachel, her Kisten and her Erica died. I knew that I had to try alleviating these feelings within her, even if I was here only a short while. I loved Ivy, no matter which one it was. She needed me right now, so I was going to do all I could to make her feel happy.

I walked over to her, gently putting my hand on top of her own that was turning the grindstone. She stopped grinding and looked up into my eyes. I projected the love I felt through my gaze that I held with her. I clasped her hand and withdrew it from the grinder. I pulled her along with me as I made my way into the church. I looked back at her occasionally; I could see the beginnings of a small smile forming on her face. She knew what my plans were without any announcements, which apparently made her feel happy, even if only for a moment. I completed my trek to our bedroom, still pulling her along. I released her hand as I sat on the bed, but immediately crooked my finger at her while giving my best seductive smile. She approached me, sitting beside me. Her hand came up to cradle my face, into which I leaned. The need for words had passed; other needs came to the forefront. It was time to feel.

Author's Notes:

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am not dead. Health issues seriously maimed my muse, who refused to answer my calls for a long time. Never fear; I've started on the next chapter, which I am hoping to get out a lot sooner than it took for this one. Speaking of which, I apologize that this chapter is shorter than prior ones; I am moving to a different retelling with the next bit, so I wanted to cut the chapter here.

I appreciate any and all comments and/or disparaging remarks you may have.