an: Thank you to my beta, shelter, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It really makes my day. I am sorry I did not upload yesterday. I am back to work full time and am still adjusting to that schedule.

It was late that night when Teresa left, and Irene was emotionally exhausted. They had talked about Clare for a long time, though Irene could tell it pained Teresa. She had died to give Clare a human life, which had been for nothing. Irene did not envy her, having to go back to her apartment and pretend like nothing was different.

But Teresa really was a good actress.

Irene slept poorly, but that was no longer due to nightmares. Not entirely, at least. She had expected her nightmares to stop after she remembered her past life. But now, they were just different. She dreamed of Priscilla far too much, of Teresa's head flying through the air, of her arm being ripped from her. However, she'd had years of these nightmares in her other life. She was accustomed to them.

What kept her up now was her worry over Teresa, over how they would repair their relationship, how they could move on from this. Teresa could apologize all she wanted, but it did not change everything that had happened, both in this world and the last one. She could not forget the pain Teresa had caused her in the old world, though she knew there was nothing to do about it now. In the old world, she had blamed herself and blamed Clare for the destruction Teresa's desertion had wrought. But now...

Teresa was right. She was softer in this world. Her emotions, her empathy, were easier to access here where she had not been battle hardened. Now, she remembered everything Clare had suffered, and it hurt her heart. No child should have to experience those things. Not Clare, not Teresa, not her. No one was to blame for what had happened except the men of the Organization who had exploited them, used them.

How could she possibly look at Clare again without weeping?

As she sat drinking her coffee the next morning, she tried not to be disgusted at her own lavish lifestyle. So very different from a single room cabin in the mountains.

It felt wrong to have so much, to need so much. Her immediate impulse had been to liquidate her assets and donate the lot of it. That, however, would not work here. She had a responsibility to her Foundation, to her employees, to her family.

They weren't the same family she had lost, but they were close, and she loved them, even if she did not know how to talk to them now. She did not know how Teresa could have such easy and natural conversations with her parents, how she could pretend like everything was normal. Irene was struggling to just text her brother every few days so he wouldn't worry about her. A real conversation was out of the question. Even the mention of Elda was almost too much for her.

Her phone buzzed, and she frowned as she picked it up. Teresa would not be calling her this early in the morning.

Her father.

After a moment of hesitation, a moment where she remembered the screams of her other father as he was eaten alive trying to protect her, she answered. "Hello?"

"Irene. It's your father."

"Yes, I know."

"Ah. I wasn't sure if you'd deleted my number."

She had to set her jaw, her lips pressed together. He was her father in this life. He had helped raise her, however poor a job he had done, and she did not want to lose the one parent she had left. So she bit back her retort.

"I'm not that petty."

"No, I suppose you're not."

"Why are you calling me? We haven't spoken in months."

"I've been concerned for you."

She almost laughed. "Ah. I see. You've seen the rumors that Teresa and I broke up." Silence answered her. "Well, we haven't. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Irene, please."

His voice sounded different, not arrogant and cold as usual. Strained almost. It gave her pause.

"What do you want? Do you need a kidney or something?"

"Of course not. I just wanted to call you."

"Now isn't a good time." Her emotional state was already too fragile to deal with him. She did not have the energy to be angry at him and Teresa simultaneously.

"The last time we spoke, I was too hard on you. I've done a lot of thinking since then, and I don't want that to be our relationship."

"Oh. Now you want to be a father?" She could not stop the snort that forced its way through her nose. "Now when I need you the least? What about Paul? Have you considered calling him?"

"I have, Irene. You would know that if you'd spoken to him. He's worried about you, too. He said you've stopped taking your medication. That's part of why I wanted to reach out to you."

Irene knew she should have felt more shocked by this, more betrayed. But it seemed such a small thing in comparison with her new problems. Her tether to her life here was so much weaker than Teresa's.

"It's really none of your business."

"If you need help, Irene, I can arrange something. Like when you were in school."

This should not have surprised her. He always did want to just lock away his problems. She supposed in a way she was the same.

"That's always your answer, isn't it? Just take away your embarrassing child. Wouldn't want anyone to know she has problems."

"That's not what I meant," he said, starting to lose his soft tone. "I've never been good at knowing what you need. That was your mother."

"All you ever had to do was talk to me," she said, startled now at the emotion in her voice. Perhaps her tether was not so weak after all. Just because she remembered her old life did not mean the decades she'd lived in this world were suddenly gone. The pain here, however less traumatic, still affected her. "You just had to ask what I needed!"

"Well, I'm asking now."

"You can't give me what I need anymore," she said raggedly.

"Irene-"

"No, look, I get that you're feeling guilty now and want to make amends, but I'm taking care of myself. My doctor knows everything I'm doing, so don't worry yourself about it. And tell Paul to mind his own business. I'm fine."

"Is it true you're on sabbatical?"

She grimaced. "I'm taking time off. I think I've earned it."

"During Tax Season? You're not being audited, are you? I know some good lawyers."

Irene did laugh now. As if taxes were her biggest concern. "I'd never put my firm in a position where an audit would be a bad thing. As I said, don't concern yourself with me."

"If you're in trouble, Irene, you can tell me."

Frustrated, she rubbed her brow. "I'm not in trouble. I told you, I'm fine. If you want to make amends, then you should start by listening to me."

"All right. Fine."

"Good."

There was silence for long enough that Irene wondered if they had gotten disconnected.

"About this Teresa Blackwell-"

"Father, please. I don't want to hear it."

"All I was going to say is that if she...if she makes you happy, then I will learn to accept it."

Irene had already prepared a retort that she now had to swallow, blinking in surprise. "Oh. Well...all right."

"This is hard for me, Irene. After your mother died, I didn't know what to do with you. I'm just trying to figure it out. Better late than never, right?"

If he really was trying to ask for forgiveness, he was going about it all wrong. Irene's fist clenched, and she suppressed a growl. Her warrior side was far too feral for this world, always wanting to start something.

"No, that's not always the case." Her patience was coming to an end, and she still had to deal with Teresa today. "I meant it before. Now isn't a good time. I need to go."

"Irene, wait. I'm sorry."

Oh, how she had longed for those words, ached to hear them said with such sincerity. Years ago, she would have given anything, would have forgiven anything for them. Now, though, it was with detached calm that she answered.

"You're going to have to work harder than that if you want to be back into my life. Now, I have to go."

She hung up before he could answer and slumped in her chair. Arguing with him felt so tedious, so pointless. She had work to do.

Once she finished her coffee, she took a run. These were becoming a daily activity, a way to anchor herself, to try and control her emotions. Part of her contemplated taking up kickboxing or something like it, but she feared she would accidentally hurt someone. That had been why she stuck to track. In contact sports, her body had been too strong, too much. Now, at least, she understood why.

Perhaps she and Teresa could spar at some point, and she could really test her limits, so to speak. This would be a learning experience all over again. She could not assume anything at this point. What she knew in the old world was not true here, but she knew there was more to them than simply being stronger than your average human. The city, however, was no place to test her speed and strength. It could bring too much attention. If the government found out about 'super humans,' or whatever they were now, it could lead to more experimentation.

She'd suffered quite enough of that to last her a hundred lifetimes.

After showering, she saw she had a text and a missed call. The text was from Teresa and simply said -Hey.-

The call was from her brother. She chose to ignore that for now, and instead texted Teresa back.

-Hey.-

-Clare's at her dad's this week. Wanna take a trip to find this mystery collector?-

The address was upstate. They would have to stay somewhere overnight.

The prospect of being in Teresa's company for such a long time tore at Irene. There was a part of her, a rather large and demanding part, that longed to just put aside the past, their difficulties, and fall back into Teresa's arms. But she knew she could not do that. If she did, the lingering resentment would fester and rot and tear them apart from the inside out.

If she wanted Teresa, and God she wanted Teresa, then they would have to rebuild their foundation with trust and respect.

-All right. Find a place to stay the night. Book two rooms.-

She knew that would hurt Teresa, but it could not be helped.

-Okay. Pick you up in an hour.-

Irene was waiting by the time Teresa arrived, looking drained already as she got out of the car to greet Irene.

"I think there are some photogs around the corner. I want them to get a good look at us together. Maybe that will calm the rumor mills."

"Flora tells me she keeps getting calls at the office about it. I don't understand why your life is so fascinating to these people."

A tired smile tugged Teresa's lips. "Living vicariously, maybe?"

"If only they knew."

This earned her a true smile and a chuckle. "Truth is stranger than fiction, right? Anyway, I booked a place that looks pretty nice. Used a fake name. Hopefully they won't follow us out of the city."

"I'm sure you'll be able to lose them," Irene said as she slid into the car. Teresa was a terrifying driver. Irene supposed that driving dangerously was akin to the thrill of facing an awakened being.

"I'm certainly going to try."

Irene grasped the handle above her door in preparation, ready to brace herself.

They stayed quiet while Teresa navigated her way out of the city, very quickly losing the paparazzi on their tail. When they were on the open highway, Irene let herself relax a little.

"I never told you, but congratulations on your Globe win," she said eventually.

"Oh, thanks. It just means I really do have to have an Oscar speech ready."

"When you remembered who you are, why did you keep acting?" Because it was almost impossible for Irene to even look at her client accounts right now. This life was so mundane in comparison to her old one.

"Honestly? I was really good at it, and I like it." Teresa shrugged, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window. "And I didn't go to a fancy Ivy League school like you. I didn't go to college at all. I had no other skills, no other way to provide for Clare. Not a lot of youma around here to kill for a fee."

"And you like the accolades."

"What can I say? I like being the best, and I like people knowing it."

"It's been hard for me. Trying to act normal."

Teresa glanced at her for a moment. "I know. Hey, when I first got my memories back, I took a year long break. I had to get my head in order. So, I do know what you're going through. Take all the time off work you need. Hell, quit if it's what you want to do. I know you have money to fall back on, and even if you didn't, I would make sure you were taken care of."

"I don't need your handouts."

"I know that. I just meant that, whatever you feel like you need to do, I'll support you."

Irene leaned her head back against the headrest. "My father called me this morning. He wanted to fix things."

"And?"

"And, I don't know how to talk to him. Or my brother. I don't know what they are to me now."

"They're still your family. I mean, your brother is, at least. You don't owe your dad anything. Not after how he's treated you your whole life."

"I just...I lost everyone before. It feels like I should do everything I can do to keep this new family." She ran a hand through her hair. "But how? I can't tell them anything. I'm afraid to even talk about Elda with Paul. What if I say something strange? What if I talk about her as a warrior and they think I need to be committed?"

"With anyone else, I would worry," Teresa said gently. "But, Irene, you know your control is untouchable. You won't let yourself say something like that."

"Still, I've been avoiding Paul, and he's starting to worry."

"Eventually, you'll have to either cut them out of your life completely or learn how to be around them again. I went through the same thing. My mom looks exactly like me. More than my...my other mother. I've struggled with how that's possible, but what I know for sure is that she raised me, and I love her. That's all you can go off of for now."

"Does it get easier?"

"Yeah, it does. It really does." Teresa offered her free hand, and Irene took it, the first time they had touched since Christmas. It felt like an anchor, a life preserver in a raging ocean. It felt like home.

"I miss Clare," Irene said after a while. "I didn't think I would. Not this much, at least. I suppose after everything, I'm tied to her." If not through flesh and blood anymore, then through their shared history. "She's so different here. So happy."

Pain flitted across Teresa's face before she answered. "She keeps asking about you, and I know she doesn't believe my excuses. Irene, I need you to know that I've never brought anyone home to her before. Just you. God, it's almost like my body knew you were here somewhere and I just needed to find you. No matter who I dated, it never felt right, even before I remembered."

"I know the feeling. The closest I got was when I dated Sophia, but there was still something missing."

"She's not the one who cheated, was she?" Teresa's voice sounded purposefully light.

"Sophia?" Irene had to smile. "No. The one who cheated was just a human as far as I know. I think Sophia is the only one of us I've dated. She didn't show any signs of remembering, and she certainly didn't bring out my nightmares like you did."

"I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted."

"I think it means you and I have a stronger connection, obviously. You made me remember. She didn't."

Teresa eyed her, mouth pursed.

"What?"

"Nothing, just...so you had sex with Sophia?"

"Are you jealous?" Irene asked, not sure if she should be amused or concerned.

"What? No! Okay, maybe a little, but it's just weird, you know? You never had an interest in her in the old world."

"I think we were both trying to find something familiar." She gave Teresa's hand a squeeze. "It didn't last, and I haven't seen her in years." She rubbed her thumb over Teresa's knuckles. That always used to soothe her. "I know that things are tense with us. I'm working through a lot right now. But you don't need to be jealous of Sophia, of all people." Though Irene wondered if she should contact Sophia now, just to see if she had any inkling of who they were.

"I just don't want to lose you again," Teresa said, voice small and apprehensive.

"Well, we're here, aren't we?" Even if they would be staying in separate rooms.

"Yeah. We are."

The rest of the drive was peaceful, and Irene started to let her guard down. As much as she wanted to stay angry, it required so much energy, energy that was better spent figuring out what was going on.

The place Teresa had booked was a secluded Bed and Breakfast, tucked away in a sleepy town that hosted the rich elite of New York during the summer season. But now, in the middle of winter, only the full time residents were around, and the inn only had one other guest.

The woman at the desk obviously recognized Teresa, but she clearly had experience with high profile guests and showed them to their rooms with professional ease.

"I hope she doesn't tip off our location," Irene said once they were alone. "Staying in separate rooms won't help the rumors at all."

"My room is always welcome to you," Teresa said with a smirk.

"Don't."

"Right, sorry."

"I'm going to put my things up, then we can see if we can find this person." Irene retreated to her own room. She needed a breather from Teresa more than anything, otherwise she knew they really would wind up in bed together. That would only complicate matters further.

After a few minutes, she gathered herself and knocked on Teresa's door. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, one sec!" When Teresa opened the door, she kept her eyes locked with Irene's. "I'm sorry about earlier. I tend to fall back on innuendos when I'm nervous. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's fine." It wasn't, but she did not have time to start an argument.

"Okay. Well, I guess I'm ready." Teresa put on sunglasses that were ridiculous in the hazy winter light. "This would be a hell of a lot easier if I hadn't just won a Golden Globe."

Irene was inclined to agree, but their money and Teresa's name would probably prove useful in getting access to the elite of the art world.

With the use of her GPS, it did not take long to find the address Irene had been given. The home was old and large and screamed of money. Fortunately, Irene had spent her summers in the Hamptons as a child and was not intimidated by such grandeur. Unfortunately, there was a gate at the entrance to the drive.

"Looks like they're not fond of visitors" Irene said, eyeing the security system.

"Lucky for us, I'm pretty famous," Teresa said with a cocky grin. "People love me."

"If you say so."

Teresa leaned out the car window and pressed the call button.

"Vander Linde Residence."

Teresa shot Irene a triumphant smirk. "Yes, hello. I am so sorry to intrude, but I was trying to get in touch with Andrea Vander Linde about purchasing some of her collection."

"The collection is not for sale, and Ms. Vander Linde is not seeing visitors."

"Tell her it's Teresa Blackwell." She removed her sunglasses and looked up to give the camera a good view of her face.

"Oh my God," Irene muttered.

The speaker was silent for a moment before crackling to life again. "Ms. Vander Linde will not be seeing visitors at this time," the voice repeated.

In her embarrassment, Irene looked out her own window, where another security camera focused on her.

"Is Ms. Irene Winters with you?"

"Oh, uh yeah. Yes, she is."

There was more silence, then the gate buzzed open.

Teresa looked to Irene for an explanation.

"I have no idea," Irene said, though the name Vander Linde sounded familiar. "Are we about to get murdered?"

"Now that would be something, wouldn't it?" Teresa started up the winding driveway. She pulled up in front of the Victorian porch, and as they got out, a man in an incredibly stereotypical butler's outfit trotted down the steps to greet them.

"Ms. Vander Linde will see you."

Teresa pushed Irene out in front. "You better lead."

With a glare at Teresa, Irene followed the butler into the large foyer. The home was immaculately kept, with art on every wall. Irene was sure that each one was worth thousands, if not millions.

"This way, please." The butler led them into a large library. At the far end sat an attractive woman in her sixties, her gray hair pulled up in a perfect bun. She looked up as they walked in.

"Thank you, Jeffery, that will be all."

The butler bowed and left.

"Please, have a seat." The woman indicated two plush chairs in front of her desk, and Irene felt like she had been called into the headmistress's office. "I must say, I was surprised that Teresa Blackwell showed up at my door. Yours is not a name generally spoken in the art community."

"Well, I'm looking to branch out," Teresa said easily.

"Regardless, Ms. Winters here comes from a very well respected family. How is your father, dear?"

"My father?"

"Oh yes, I've known him a long time. He's often at the same auctions as I am. He has a fine eye." She said it with such an intimate smile that Irene's stomach turned.

"I see." She remembered now. Andrea Vander Linde was the woman her mother had always feared was having an affair with her father. "My father is well. I spoke to him just this morning."

"Please do pass on my regards."

"Of course." By her thigh, Irene's hand was clenched into a fist, and her nails dug into the skin of her palm.

Ms. Vander Linde smiled graciously. "So, you're interested in my collection?"

"Yes," Teresa said, placing a calming hand on Irene's arm. "Specifically, we're interested in a few pieces you sold recently."

"Oh. Which would those be?"

"Luciela and Octavia."

Ms. Vander Linde's shock was real and honest, cutting through her careful facade. "Why are you interested in those? The artist is unknown. They have little real value."

"They caught my eye," Irene said. "I wanted to know if there were more like them."

Ms. Vander Linde regarded them carefully, face closed now. "Yes, there are more, but I don't have them."

"Can you tell us who does?"

"I can, but you'll have a hard time getting him to see you." She pulled out a fountain pen and neat, expensive letterhead. In elegant script, she wrote a name and address. "He lives outside town and rarely takes visitors. I doubt your name will have much sway," she added pointedly to Teresa. She passed the paper to Irene who gasped when she read the name.

Isley White

"Fucking hell," Teresa breathed, leaning over to see. "Is that-"

"I don't know." Irene looked back to Ms. Vander Linde. "Thank you. This has been a great help."

Back in the car, Teresa took the paper and quickly typed the address into her phone.

"Goddamn Isley of the North! Are you fucking serious?" She shook her head as they pulled out.

"We don't know it's him yet," Irene reminded her, still shaken from the encounter.

"I feel like it's a pretty safe bet." Once they were back on the main road, Teresa glanced at her. "Hey, did you know that woman?"

"No. But...I'm fairly certain she had an affair with my father when I was young. It was before my mother got sick, but still."

"I'm sorry, Irene. I knew you were upset, but I had no idea why."

"I'm glad you were with me. I would not have wanted to face her alone."

"Of course. So do you want to go see Isley now?"

"Tomorrow. Let's just get something to eat and go back to the hotel."

With a nod, Teresa drove into the center of town. Many of the businesses were closed for the season, even for someone as famous as Teresa. But they were able to find a place to eat. They were careful not to speak of their past lives as staff flitted around. Instead, they spoke of Clare.

"She keeps talking about the art museum," Teresa said, shaking her head. "But she won't go without you. So she's sulking while trying to look like she's not sulking."

"I'll take her when we get back," Irene promised. "I didn't mean to just drop out of her life."

"That's not your fault."

"I'm just surprised she doesn't think I'm insane."

"She doesn't understand enough to think that. My parents, however, are very concerned."

"I don't know if I can face them again."

"It will be fine. I promise." She reached for Irene's hand, squeezing briefly. "I can handle them. It's Clare who's driving me up the wall."

"I guess I should be glad she still likes me."

"What's not to like?" Teresa was looking at her seriously. "She's got good taste."

"Oh, hush." She ducked her head to hide her blush, reminding herself she was still mad at Teresa.

"It's true! Look, you're good with her. She's a pretty easy going kid, but she's stubborn as hell. Always has been. And I mean always. You know that. But she genuinely likes you. Not just because I do. I take her to museums and all that, you know, enrichment or whatever. But I don't care that much about it. You do, and she's excited to have someone to share that with."

"What about her father?"

Teresa shrugged. "He tries, but he's away so much. He's always struggled with parenting. He's a very...free spirit. He's a good guy, but I've always had to be the voice of reason."

"You?"

"Hey, it's not that outrageous is it?"

"Here? No," Irene relented. "No, I suppose not. You're a good mother, and Clare is lucky to have you."

"I've tried to give her a good life. You know, to make up for everything." Irene knew she meant everything from their old life.

At the hotel, they stood in the hall between their rooms. "We should get going by nine," Teresa said.

"I'll be ready."

"Irene…" Teresa's eyes were deep with longing, and Irene had to work hard to keep her resolve.

"I'm getting there, Teresa. I'll see you in the morning."

In her room, she looked at her phone and dialed her father's number.

"Irene?"

"Did you have an affair with Andrea Vander Lind?"

"What?"

"Did you have an affair with her? Mother thought so."

"I-Irene, please, let's not talk about this."

"So you did."

"No! I never cheated on your mother. I loved her." He sounded sincere.

"What about after she died?"

He was quiet for a while. "I get lonely, Irene. Andrea has similar interests. I enjoy spending time with her. There's nothing wrong with that."

She rubbed her brows. "I met her today, and she mentioned you. I just…"

"I never cheated. I swear that to you, Irene. Your mother...I loved her very much, but she could be insecure." Irene knew it was true, even if she hated to admit it. "And Andrea respected her. We were friendly, but she never approached me until years after your mother passed."

"I see."

"Where did you meet her?"

"I'm...getting into art. She had a piece I wanted."

"Oh. Well, you know I do know quite a few people in the business. I can help if you really want to get into collecting." He sounded so hopeful, and Irene wanted to cry.

"I'll let you know." She took a deep breath. "I have been struggling lately. But I've been working with my doctor, and I'm better. It is why I took time from work, and I will go back soon."

"Are you really all right? I know we've had our differences, but you're my daughter. I love you. You and Paul are all I have left."

"I'm all right," she said, wiping away a tear that spilled down her cheek. "It's not like before."

"I meant what I said earlier. If I can help, I will."

"I know."

"I've missed you."

"Well...make it up to me."

They stayed on the phone for only fifteen minutes, but Irene thought maybe they were turning a corner. She went to bed feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

In her dreams, the one-horned monster was no match for Teresa's soft words and softer hands. In her dreams, everything was all right.

AN: Thank you for reading! Please take a moment to let me know what you think!