A nice long chapter for you lovely readers. Enjoy some out of character Skulduggery because sleep deprivation is a bitch and I'm horribly sadistic.

Oh, and for clarification, the flashback is set before Skulduggery was killed.

Chapter 8 – Not the Only One

For the next week after Clarity's friends left, four of the Dead Men remained at Edgely Manor, looking after themselves and the Pups. Speaking of which, the three children were proving to be quite the handful. Husky and Dingo were deliberate troublemakers, it seemed; surprisingly devious for three-year-olds. Wolf was quiet, but he had a tendency to wander off and disappear, causing Erskine (who had grown overly attached to the Pup) to go off into a panic that was worthy of any parent. All in all, the three had adjusted well to life in the manor.

However, the same couldn't be said for Skulduggery, who was struggling to cope with life in general. He kept throwing up whatever he ate, and often got extremely worked up to the point he had to be restrained in order to be calmed down. The insomnia certainly didn't help, either. Since he'd gotten back to the manor, he hadn't got even a wink of sleep, and it was showing. To put it simply, he looked like a zombie with nervous tics.

On the seventh night, Erskine came into the kitchen at three a.m., intending to get a drink. He hadn't expected Skulduggery to have beaten him to it. The man was rifling through cupboards for something he could stomach for longer than five minutes, and Erskine had a clear view of his dangerously prominent ribs through the light grey shirt he wore.

"Trouble sleeping?" he enquired, causing Skulduggery to jump and hit his head on the worktop.

"What do you think?" Skulduggery growled, rubbing his head. He was still sour towards Erskine for obvious reasons.

"I think Clarity left some soup in the fridge if you want to heat that up," Erskine continued.

Skulduggery scowled and walked over to the fridge, grabbing the Tupperware bowl of soup. Marching to the microwave he put the soup in and set the timer to thirty seconds.

Erskine sighed. "Skulduggery, I-."

"I'm not forgiving you, Erskine. You betrayed us, lied to us, threw our country into-."

"Then stop taking out your anger on Clarity. If you really do hate me that much, then take it out on me, just stop being so harsh with them. They had nothing to do with my plans."

"Your plans could have got them killed."

"What?"

"Think about it, Erskine; what if you had succeeded? Not only would you reveal the existence of sorcerers, but other magical beings as well. Mortals might welcome you with open arms, but the same can't be said for creatures like vampires, yetis, the list goes on. They could try hunting them down, and Clarity could end up being on that list. Did you ever think about that?"

Erskine was silent, and Skulduggery continued.

"Clarity took you in; the man who could have set in motion events that could have led to their death. Did that ever cross your mind?"

"I… no. No, it didn't…"

Skulduggery snorted. "You're even more self-centred than I thought."

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"It's too late to say that, don't you think? I'll let Clarity protect you, but if you ever betray them the way you betrayed us, and try to get involved with that ridiculous revolution of yours again, I swear I'll make you suffer even more than Darquesse ever did."

At the mention of Valkyrie's true name, Erskine's eyes widened in fear. "I never had any intention of doing that."

"Strangely enough, I find that very hard to believe."

"I-."

"You tried to murder Ghastly and Anton…"

"I didn't want-."

"…In Mevolent's realm, you turned to him for aid. Mevolent! What the hell were you thinking?!"

"I know, but-."

"And like a coward, you ran from Darquesse while the rest of us risked our lives to stop her. Saracen and Dexter almost died, did you know that? They were stuck in comas for six goddamn months!"

"And where were you?!" Erskine snapped. "After that precious sword broke, you disappeared, too. If that's not hypocrisy, then I don't know what is!"

"I came back, which is a damn lot more than what you did!"

"I was bloody terrified! Skulduggery, you've never felt anything like it! The only thing that managed to top it was the pain I felt in that goddamn gaol!"

"Well it can't be anything worse than getting raped and killed!"

Erskine was caught off guard by Skulduggery's outburst, and was struck into silence for a few seconds. "I… w-what?"

Tears were immediately streaming down Skulduggery's face, and as he desperately tried to wipe them away, he managed to choke out, "I-I didn't… I've never told anyone e-exactly what happened before he killed me…"

Horrified, Erskine had to lean against the worktop lest he collapse from shock. "Skulduggery, I…"

"Shut up! You have no bloody idea what it's like! You've never-."

"I do," Erskine interrupted, his eyes firm, but only to hide how haunted he truly was. "I spent the better part of six years thinking the same way as you; feeling like no one else knew how I felt."

He couldn't have gotten a better reaction if he'd stepped forward and slapped Skulduggery in the face.

"Those… those bastards!" he choked. "I-I'm so sorry! N-no one deserves that, not even you. Goddammit, why didn't I notice?"

"It's not your fault," he whispered. "I only have myself to blame."

"I'm such an idiot."

"Not as much as I'm such a prick. I'm sorry."

"So am I."

The two broken mages remained silent until the microwave emitted a small 'ding!' They retrieved the reheated soup from the microwave, split it between themselves and went to the living room to eat it, taking opposite couches to each other. Much to Skulduggery's surprise, he didn't feel sick the moment he was finished.

"Is that why Clarity got you out of the gaol?" Skulduggery asked, voice hoarse and still shaky. "They saw what was going on?"

Erskine winced. "They saw the warden trying to claw my eyes out," he explained, voice quiet and haunted. "After battering him to a pulp, they corralled me into telling them what had happened. You should have seen them; I was well past scared out of my wits."

"I can imagine."

"It took them a month, but they got me out eventually. I was an absolute wreck, but they've been trying to fix me ever since."

"Definitely something they'd do."

They continued to talk like that for a while, but very quickly, Skulduggery started doing more yawning than conversing. Eventually, he started nodding off, and fell asleep halfway through a sentence. Erskine smiled sadly, and once he was certain Skulduggery was sound asleep, he adjusted him so that he was lying down on the sofa, and placed a blanket over him.

"Out of everyone, it was your forgiveness I sought out the most," he whispered into the sleeping man's ear. "And… you have no idea how thankful I am that I've received it."

After having spent so long without sleep, Skulduggery was overwhelmed by the pure bliss that washed over him when he finally let it take over him.

Of course, when he slept it gave the nightmares full opportunity to harass him. That was one thing he hadn't missed when he was dead.

Especially when the nightmares turned out to be memories

Flames licked the building as terrified screams pierced the ears of the Dead Men. Skulduggery was frozen in horror; the nightmarish image of his own child burning in that same inferno invading his mind's eye.

"Skulduggery!" Ghastly snapped, breaking him from his trance. "Get a move on! We need to put out these flames!"

Spurred on by his friend's yelling, he raised his hands and forced the flames to bend to his will. Corrival and Ghastly were both doing the same, and he expected Erskine to be following suit, however the brown-haired Elemental was nowhere to be seen.

"Ravel!" Corrival roared. "Get back here, you crazy son of a bitch!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Skulduggery saw a figure dash into the fire, however he ignored it and blocked out everything; the screams, the snapping of wood and the collapse of the beams; and focused on quelling the raging flames.

Eventually, the searing heat of the blaze died down to nothing. Only the charred skeleton of the building and the smell of death remained. No one was screaming any more.

In the back of his mind, That Voice in his head was relishing the lingering power of death. It was as if he had a Necromancer lodging in his subconscious.

The same figure that had charged headfirst into the building whilst it had been engulfed in flames stumbled out; covered in soot, hacking their lungs out in an attempt to clear them and cradling a small body in their arms.

Corrival was on him in an instant. "Erskine, you madman!" he howled. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?!"

Erskine just stared at him blankly, eyes almost dead. "I…"

"Do you have any idea how stupid that was!?"

"I couldn't leave her in there!" Erskine yelled, clutching the body closer to his chest. The angry defiance that blazed in his golden eyes was washed away by horror when the girl in his arms let out a small moan of pain.

"Oh god," Erskine breathed. "I-I'm so sorry. Listen, it's going to be okay."

Denial drowned his eyes as he carefully kneeled down and rested the girl on his knees. Charred black hair topped her head, and her face was a tapestry of ugly red burns. Her breathing was laboured, wheezing out of her chest painfully, and blood dripped from a wound in her stomach. Skulduggery had to beat away the mental image of his own child in the same state with a spiked mace.

"Wh… where's my mommy?" the girl whimpered. She sounded so weak and vulnerable, it was obvious that she wasn't going to survive.

"She… she didn't make it out of the fire," Erskine replied, barely keeping the tears out of his voice. "I'm sorry."

Skulduggery kneeled down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. They locked eyes; violet with gold; and silent understanding passed between them. The girl was going to die.

"What's your name?" Erskine asked, shifting his grip slightly so he wouldn't hurt her.

"R… Rose…"

"That's a really pretty name."

"Thank you."

A weak, throaty cough stuttered out of Rose's lungs, and Erskine's shoulders visibly shook.

"It… h…hurts…" she wheezed.

"I know," Erskine whispered. "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can-."

"Eat this," Anton interrupted, holding out a few medicinal leaves. Chances were that Corrival would grumble at him for wasting medical supplies, but the Adept clearly didn't care. "It'll make you feel better."

"Like magic?" Rose asked as she tentatively chewed on the offered leaves.

Anton nodded. "Like magic."

"It'll make the pain go away," Erskine reassured as he gently stroked Rose's hair. "It'll all go away soon."

Skulduggery noticed his voice was shaking, and the darkness in the back of his mind was showing uncharacteristic sympathy. The Dead Men all held silent vigil as they waited for Rose's final moments to pass…

Rose was dead before nightfall. Corrival didn't protest when Erskine insisted that they buried her, and no jokes were made when he spent the rest of the night drowning his sorrows in one of the bottles of whiskey that they'd brought along for a special occasion.

Skulduggery joined him by the campfire, but he didn't help himself to the alcohol. It wouldn't do to have two drunkards near an open flame.

"Mortals d… did it," Erskine slurred. "S… Saracen t… told me." He was still shaking, like he had been since Rose had died in his arms.

"Did he know why?" Skulduggery asked. Although he hadn't been as badly affected as Erskine, every time he thought about Rose, a picture of his own child replaced her. The image was disgusting, and the fact that someone had knowingly burned down that house with the knowledge of children being in there made him feel sick.

"M… m-money… Her father was in… in debt. The people he o… owed w-weren't… weren't happy."

The bitter disgust in his voice was evident, even thought he was drunk beyond reason. Gentle clicks sounded in the air, and Skulduggery realised that Erskine was snapping his fingers repeatedly. If he wasn't careful, he'd summon a spark.

"Don't," he said firmly, holding Erskine's hands still. A small growl of approval sounded in the back of his mind.

"Wh… why did… why are people… l-like that?"

Skulduggery sighed. "I don't know."

"S' not right… She was so y…young…"

The floodgates opened, and Skulduggery could only hold Erskine close as he sobbed uncontrollably. At some point, he cried with him, and the voice in the back of his head was whining, too.

It seemed even harbingers of death could mourn the very thing they swept the land with…