Summer was all about art therapy, as it turned out.

I spent the better part of the first three months learning how to do pottery, paint watercolors, and even decorate the interior of the sanctuary with chalk murals. Anything that kept my hands moving, my energy flowing, and my mind on the mend. I wasn't sure what Lily was actually doing except offering me a respite, but so long as I stayed, the pain didn't engulf me.

That didn't mean it was gone. There were still terrifying moments. Still nights where I woke up in a cold sweat and Lasciel's name a silent scream in my mind. I'd had a dream one night where every faerie I'd met in Summer had turned blank eyes on me, opened their mouths and began to dribble black ooze onto the floor of the sanctuary. Every vein stood out on their skin, no matter what the race, no matter what the color, all of them running with the black stuff. It moved slowly, with the consistency of congealed blood. I hadn't dared let it touch me. I knew that if it did, I'd be gone more surely than if Lasciel had ripped my mind apart.

I'd woken with her invocation poised on my tongue. It had taken distressing minutes to convince myself it was a bad idea, and another ten to calm myself enough to sleep again.

I received visits, now and then. From Harry, mostly. I'd gotten a full, detailed description of what the fae were now calling the "Donut story." It'd made me laugh, and that had made Harry smile.

He brought Burger King every time and kept me updated on my father's progress. The doctor said he might be up for short jaunts in six months. Lily said I wouldn't be ready to visit my family for at least twice that. Bones mended, but minds often did not. I was not to walk into the mortal world with all its raging magic and emotion and risk further injury.

I sent letters instead. Always light and superficial. I wasn't ready for the conversation that was coming. I wasn't ready to accept the forgiveness I knew he'd extend. So I stayed put. We talked about the family. He promised to visit when he could. It was enough.

But it was Sanya's visits that I got the most out of. Because he alone, out of all my supporters, actually knew what the hell I was going through. It'd surprised me, initially, to learn about his history. He seemed too sturdy to fall prey to a Fallen. It was hard to picture him holding Magog's coin. But I'd have said the same thing about myself before encountering Lasciel. People in glass houses and all that.

He came before the dawn and settled onto a bench nearby, chewing thoughtfully on a bear claw as I finished off the chalk drawing of Hannah by the light from a glowing orb. Faerie made, and thus not likely to be easily destroyed by my magic.

I'd been thinking about Hannah a lot in recent weeks, worrying about what was going to become of her. The Fellowship had cut her off after it was clear she wouldn't recover enough to fight. I'd been paying her bills through the fund Lasciel had set up for me. But I'd found myself completely unable to access the account shortly afterward. I didn't know who was taking care of her. I wasn't sure how to get in contact with her and in the end, Lily refused to let me try.

"You miss your lover?"

I let out a soft laugh. "God, I'd almost forgotten about that lie. She's not my girlfriend, Sanya. She was just a fellow soldier."

"Shame," he said with a shrug. "It would have been sexy."

"Pig."

He grinned unrepentantly.

I sighed. "She got hurt badly. Nicodemus promised to get her a coin to help with the healing but never followed through. I'm worried about her. I miss her, a lot."

"I can track her down if you like."

I glanced up hopefully. "Would you?"

"Of course." He examined my face critically, even as he polished up his donut. Mine lay a few feet away on another stone bench, awaiting consumption when I was through. "But she is not the only one you pine for."

Tears sprang unbidden into my eyes. My emotions were always close to the surface now. I hated it. I hated feeling like an open wound all the time.

I wiped my nose on my sleeve with a laugh entirely devoid of mirth. "It's stupid. She's a demon."

"But you loved her, at least a little. You had a relationship. Dysfunctional and abusive, but still a relationship."

"You don't seem to pine after Magog," I pointed out. "And you were with him for five years. I only had Lasciel for a little over two."

"What is that fruit metaphor...kiwis and kumquats?"

That drew a laugh from me. A real one this time. I was guessing he'd done that on purpose, though I couldn't be sure. He smirked and continued;

"Magog did not care for me. It seems as though Lasciel did care for you, in her way. Magog did not try to destroy me when I dropped his coin. He simply did not care who bore him, so long as he had a pliant wielder."

I sniffled and the words finally poured out.

"You're right. Sometimes I miss the hell out of her. She was a deceitful bitch but she was my deceitful bitch. I feel so goddamn empty inside now. And each and every day I wake up is a reminder that no matter what, we start this life alone and we end it alone."

Sanya stooped, took my hand, and squeezed it gently. He wore a tiny smile, and he shook his head.

"Nyet. You are wrong."

"What?"

"We are never alone, Molly. Not truly."

I snorted. "You don't believe in God, Sanya. Don't try to sell me on the idea that he's gonna be watching over me. Or have you changed your mind on that point, now?"

"You are not alone. I am with you. Your family, Dresden, and your associates in the Summer Court. We are all here."

"Promise?"

"A team of wild horses couldn't tear us apart, da?"

"The King?"

"Better music than the Song of Solomon, I think."

"Don't let dad hear you say that."

Dazzling white teeth showed and I smiled a little in spite of myself.

"I won't tell if you won't."

I finished the drawing and climbed onto a stone bench beside him. We sat in companionable silence, watching the sunrise. It was a measure of comfort, even if it didn't assuage my fears entirely. I slid my hand more firmly into his, clinging to the only other person in the world I thought could truly understand.

And words crept into my mind, then, and I could almost hear my father speak them softly to me. Joshua 1:9.

"Be strong. Be brave. Be fearless. You are never alone."

I smiled into the still morning. It would be enough for now.