A/N: Happy New Year's everybody! Here's an update for you :)


Delphine stepped onto the pavement with the fury boiling just below the surface of her skin. How they had laughed at her! The whole station, as if she was some madwoman predicting the apocalypse. She should have known it would take more than one convinced soul to make the New Orleans state police believe there was a real witch in their midst.

It wasn't the end though. Delphine was nowhere near ready to give up. She had had some revenge on Laveau, even though it had cost her her daughter. She was not quite done here yet. She wouldn't be before she got the change to nail Madame Marie Laveau to a wall and peel her face off. But that was for another time. Now she looked to her latest employer. And her adopted witch child. They could share a fire in hell.

Delphine walked down the old street again, more cautious this time, so to not run into the daughter. Fiona neither, if she had returned to town already. No, she couldn't be seen by any of those two or her revenge would be rushed. She was never good with rushing. Lurking in the shadows – but with a raised chin and with pride unlike that poor mute – and waiting for an opportunity, savoring the moment, this was what she enjoyed most.

She had only seen one person come and go today and so she knocked on the door.

The husband answered it. How Delphine loved that she didn't have to answer this door anymore.

"Pauline! Hi." He looked at her with surprise. Ever so clueless.

"Hello, my friend. I don't believe I ever caught your name?"

"Oh. Er, my name's Hank. Did you ever get a hold on Fiona? She's back in town." It was obvious in his expression, that Hank did not appreciate this.

Delphine gave him a wide smile and said: "Oh I did. I met her in town. I don't suppose she would tell you this?"

He laughter, a dry one. "No, she wouldn't bother. So I suppose you're the one she's been meeting with?"

Delphine was not sure what to say to this.

"We have only met once. I've been a busy woman, you must know. I'm sure such is the case for Fiona as well." She enjoyed being able to call Fiona by first name, instead of the ever dutiful Madame. Fiona was not above her anymore. She lost the right to that, when she had Delphine arrested.

Hank chewed on this for a while, but shrugged his shoulders at last. "Sure she is. But you haven't seen Cordelia yet? I didn't say you were here, because-"

"Oh you just keep that secret for a while longer, my friend. I should have, but mother and daughter do not talk well at the moment, I must guess? If she doesn't know?"

The husband shrugged again. "I'm not sure they ever do. They have a strange relationship, but I guess you know this?"

Delphine nodded. "I'm quite aware. Now Hank, I must confess something to you. I couldn't make Fiona see reason, so I place it upon your shoulders now."

"It sounds serious."

"It is."

"Er okay… Do you wanna come in?" How polite of him. After ten minutes of conversation. Delphine could picture how Fiona must loathe this man and his missing manners. Oddly enough, that was always so important to her, despite her own lack of such.

Delphine shook her head. "No, I must be on my way soon. But it's about Misty."

At this Hank's expression changed completely, grew darker somehow. Delphine had a sense this was a sensitive topic.

"What about her?"

"Hm…" Delphine wondered how to begin. She loved that the curiosity in his eyes gathered strength with every second she waited. It was a vague emotion compared to the fright in the eyes of a vile thing, when she neared with the blade, but she appreciated it anyway. "I assume Cordelia has talked about her, yes?" Hank gave a hesitant nod. "Are you aware of her… powers?"

"What powers?"

"Oh how to put it. I hate to be the one to burden you with this, Hank. They call it healing, but I fear it's much darker than that, when it comes to it."

His eyes widened. "Cordelia's scars…" He mumbled, so low that Delphine thought perhaps she wasn't meant to hear it. She wondered briefly what these scars may be, but focused on the mission at hand.

"It seems you know of this after all?"

"Well, she… Cordelia did mention that Misty healed her – and don't tell her I've said this", his eyes spoke of dread and Delphine promised. "I thought she meant she had some great lotions or massaging skills or something. You know when we say someone have healing hands. Like it's just an expression, but maybe..."

"This is not I assure you."

Hank ran a hand through his hair and shifted his wait, as if suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear friend", Delphine offered.

Hank hesitated. There was a clear internal struggle happening right behind his eyes the moment, before they found hers again.

"Do you know, Cordelia and Misty, were they ever… more than friends?"

Delphine had never fully developed this train of thought before Hank's words blew life to it. But she thought back and she remembered seeing something that further enhanced her disgust with the messy savage child. The way she looked at Miss Cordelia. Delphine had seen it many times towards the end of her servitude. These looks of longing and adoration, looks that were not meant for another girl, let alone your sister. It was unnatural. It was a vile as the black ones. All the more reason to kill her.

And Delphine sensed she had found an ally in this particular matter. She put on her most convincing face and painted it with soft strokes of sympathy for good measure.

"Oh my dear boy, they were much more than friends."

O0O

"Tell me to stop", Misty whispered in her ear. Her breath warmed Cordelia's skin. Her fingers played with the edges of Cordelia's shirt and sometimes she could feel them against the skin of her stomach, where buttons had come undone. Cordelia sighed, closed her eyes. She wished the dark could swallow up the world the way it did the light. She wished that closing her eyes could wipe all her problems away, the shame and the guilt too. Just let them all vanish in the dark and float way.

"Tell me you don't want this." Warm lips on her throat. The heat followed her bloodstream from the point of contact and out to the rest of her body. She opened her eyes again and her problems weren't gone. She could still see the ceiling of Misty's shack. She could still hear a lone bird sing to the late autumn night and she could still feel the metal on her finger. Her problems were still latched to her body and the biggest dilemma of them all had taken it upon herself to beg for relief. They both knew it was empty prayers. She said it to make Cordelia choose. And Cordelia didn't know how. Instead, she let her hand slide up the back of the thigh placed between her own and Misty exhaled a trembling breath against her neck.

Unruly curls came into her view and soon after Misty's sad gaze. Misty had always been so untroubled, but lately this was her every expression. It tormented Cordelia. Everything did. Her wedding ring, her lack of ability to say no when it was essential months ago. The way she deceived Hank. Her mother too. Most of all it tormented her that Misty took it so much harder than herself. And Cordelia was the unfaithful one. She puzzled over why it suddenly plagued Misty so. Was there some trigger, she had missed, or was Misty just reacting to the battle she sensed in Cordelia herself? She would be the sort to do that. But either way, the trigger didn't matter, because elucidating it wouldn't ease the guilt or fix the problem.

"Tell me we ain't gonna do it like this no more." This time she hovered and waited for an answer.

"You know I can't just do that."

The hand disappeared from Cordelia's stomach and Misty sat up.

"Delia, I don't know how much longer I can stand this." Cordelia forced herself to turn her head and look up at her. Misty stared into space with that sad, plagued expression, hands gathered in her lap. They looked so lonely. Cordelia sat up and placed her hand on Misty's arm. She didn't move it. Cordelia could spend eternity studying Misty's skin. It was rougher than her own, but still so soft and so perfect it made Hank's skin seem crude and dingy.

"I don't know what to do. I could never give you up, but how am I supposed to throw away a whole marriage?" Misty didn't meet her gaze, her hands didn't move to cuddle around Cordelia's like they always did and Cordelia found herself battling the tears that stung in her throat and blurred her vision. "He's so brittle at the moment as it is. They're threatening to fire him and his father is over him like a hawk, a feeling I only know too well. And I'm supposed to add this to his load? It will break him."

"This'll break me."

"Misty…" Her chest tightened at the sight of Misty's unhappy eyes. She reached for her face, but Misty caught her hand and brought it to her lap with the other. Somehow it still looked so lonely. "You were always the strong one. Please be that in this too. And don't take my mistakes upon yourself, you're not doing anything wrong."

"But as long as you're with him, we'll never be real", she argued. "I feel like I only live for the days you're here, the rest is just… waitin'. And knowin' you're with him. That's what I can't stand."

Cordelia had no good answer. She felt cruel for asking Misty to settle. She felt like the most ungrateful shade of a person for doing this to someone as perfect as Misty, who loved her so unconditionally. She didn't understand how Misty could continue to forgive her for her cruelty, yet Misty did. Cordelia reached up one more time and this time Misty let her. She cupped her face, ran her thumb over her jaw line. Misty closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Misty. I don't know how to solve this." They leaned in to each other, rested their foreheads together and Cordelia prayed again for darkness to consume the rest of the world. Perhaps just evaporate it like the trail of water on her cheeks. Leave them alone in the dark and take away everything else. But her prayers were never answered.

"You gotta do it, if that's what you decide. You gotta stop it, 'cause I can't." She put her hand on top of Cordelia's, pressed it to her neck. Cordelia could feel the beat of a hectic pulse against her fingers. She thought the speed of her heartbeat meant that Misty feared Cordelia would actually be capable of doing so.

"You know I won't do that", she whispered again. Her own heart beat just as rapidly. The pull was relentless and at this close a distance, it was always too strong to ignore. It was beginning to haunt her. The lightest of sighs eluded from Misty's lips, a faint declaration of defeat, before she leaned in and caught Cordelia's mouth again. Cordelia did nothing to stop her, only gave as received. Soon she pulled her closer. This was another way to communicate the hurt, but it was also the best way to forget. Misty emitted a tormented whimper, pushed Cordelia back down and placed her leg as before. Their breaths rapidly grew short and Misty's hand was back where it had been only minutes prior. As if the conversation hadn't happened. This was their way lately. It didn't make any difference, because words led nowhere. Only Misty's hands knew what they were doing. They moved up, unbuttoning as they went. Their bodies worked separate from their minds, in parallel to thoughts of betrayal and guilt. They warmed up, craved. Cordelia's skin became exposed, but soon covered with Misty's hair and her kisses.

"I can't do without you", Misty muttered as she reached Cordelia's face. Her thigh pressed upwards, one smooth, merciless motion that sent sparks flying through Cordelia's system, igniting everything on their way. She burned for her crimes, but she couldn't bring herself to resent it. She choked down a moan and almost laughed. At what she didn't know. Maybe the absurdity that Misty would think she could ever live without this. They fitted each other like two pieces of a puzzle – how was she supposed to turn away from something like that away? Even if she already had a love and one she thought she could have grown old with.

"And I not without you. Never." She pulled Misty down for a kiss. This was all her mind could bear, focusing on the movements of Misty's lips and the taste of her tongue. Teeth held onto her bottom lip as Misty's skillful hands found their way inside her bra. This wasn't a teasing touch, but one of need, of claiming. There was no room for playfulness, not when the game had turned this serious. Cordelia arched up into the touch, lost herself in the sense of it. She wanted to be thrown off a cliff and she wanted Misty to throw her. She didn't need control today. All she needed was a reason not to leave.

O0O

Cordelia often wore a troubled look, when she came home these days. But tonight she looked broken. This above all settled it for him. Hank didn't want to say what was on his mind. The words were turning dry in his mouth, like a piece of meat he had spent too long trying to chew and now it was impossible to swallow without choking. But when she came in and she hugged him, he couldn't take it anymore. It was all over her and he didn't even need Pauline's words to know it was true. Not that they didn't burn in the back of his mind, when he smelled her skin. He knew the smell of her skin well at this point and he was done denying the change.

"I can smell her on you", he mumbled against her hair.

"Excuse me?"

Her voice, that sweetness of it, only infuriated her more. He pushed her away.

"I can fucking smell her on your skin!" He almost yelled the words at her.

Her eyes widened with shock, her hands held up as if to guard herself from his words. He could no longer control the flow.

"Well? Tell me I'm imagining it! Tell me you're not fucking Misty on the side!"

Her petite body flinched at every word and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hank…" She whispered it. And he knew. The rest was only torture to make sure the message sunk in.

"I want to hear you say it."

She closed her eyes, but Hank didn't let her disappear this time. He caught her upper arm, pulled her close to his face so he couldn't miss it. She looked miserable, but not half as much as he felt.

"Hank, I'm so sorry. I don't know what we are, but…"

"But you did fuck her?"

Her voice was barely a whisper: "Yes."

Hank hadn't realized how much a single word could hurt until she said it. It felt like having his insides ripped out in a single stroke. He thought that if he looked down now, there would be a pool of blood at his feet, the remainders of his guts swimming in it. He hated her in that moment. He hated her, but he loved her and he wanted to not touch her anymore, but he was afraid that once he let go, she would stop being his.

"How could you do this to me?" He choked out with the bloody remains of his throat and lungs. All his muscles tightened as he cried out this one thing, he needed to know.

Cordelia only stared at him, at loss for words, her tear soaked face twisted in a pain he didn't think she deserved to feel.

"Tell me", he hissed.

"Hank let go please, it hurts."

"HOW COULD YOU?!"

"Ow, you're hurting me!"

With a furious groan, he shoved her arm away, so hard she had to back a few steps to regain her balance. The back of the old armchair prevented her from going any further, and she put a hand on it for support. She cried and rubbed the arm that had been his only anchor to her. Now it was gone.

"Well you hurt me first", he said. His voice mellowed out. He wanted to yell more, but the words cut his throat so much he could barely manage a mutter.

Cordelia looked desperate. She took a step towards him, but changed her mind in the process. She went to sit on the couch instead. For a moment, she hid her face in her hands. It was at times like these Hank would go sit beside her and comfort her, but today he held his stand. He tried to enjoy her pain and failed miserably.

Finally, she looked up at him. He always thought she had weird eyes. Now he wanted to think it was too weird to make her beautiful, but he couldn't do this. He couldn't comfort himself with her flaws and he couldn't hate her. He wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her not to leave him, but he stayed put, trembling in his lonely spot.

"I don't know how it happened", she cried. "I didn't mean for it to be like this, I just…" She stopped, swallowed once to regain control over her voice. "It just did. I never wanted to hurt you or be cruel to you in any way. I tried not to, but we have so much history-"

"Yeah and you kept that from me too! I had to find it out from Fiona's friend! Did you honestly think you could hide it forever? Do you think I'm that stupid?"

"No Hank, I don't! Wait, who told you?" Suddenly she looked confused, as if she for a moment forgot that they were fighting.

"Pauline! What does it matter? You should have told me, Cordelia! No, actually you shouldn't have done it at all. Am I not enough for you? Is that it? What makes her better than me?"

"Please don't do this", she whispered.

"Are you just gay now? Have you been playing me this whole time? Is that why you're always so cold?" A million questions formed in his head and he shot them out at her as they spawned, throwing them at her like rocks and she crumbled under the attack.

"No I haven't, I promise. I love you-"

"Don't say it!" He bellowed. "You don't get to treat me like this and still say that! Do you know what she is? She's dangerous! Pauline told me that too. She's a real witch, isn't she? She's not just good with her hands, although I bet she fucking is! And you didn't tell me that either. You didn't tell me fucking shit, you just left me to my own devices, while you were out having fun with- fuck!" The picture of them emerged. He had never even met Misty and he had no idea what she looked like, but trying to imagine Cordelia being naked and vulnerable with someone else, like she was with him, was enough to slay his words. It might have been a fun thing to imagine once, but not now. Never again.

There was a short pause, in which the only thing saving him from silence was the sound of Cordelia's tears and steps on the staircase, which had yet to fully enter his consciousness.

"I should just tell everybody what she is, shouldn't I?"

"No please!" She got up again and reached out her hands for him, but he pushed them away. One more touch and he would lose it. "Don't take it out on her, I'm the one you're mad at."

"How dare you defend her?" He spat. "How dare you take her side? I'm your husband!" He stopped for a moment, scoffed. "If I'm even that anymore."

He could see the words getting stuck in her throat. New tears came and fell. She wanted to say something, but just then, Fiona walked into the room. Her expression told him that she was aware of the atmosphere even before she saw their faces and he hated her with every part of his broken body for not having the curtesy to leave them alone.

"What's going on here? Some of us are trying to sleep." Her voice was cautious underneath the ever-condescending tone. She looked at Cordelia, not him.

"None of your damn business!" He yelled at her. She jumped and her eyes narrowed when she looked at him.

"Don't take that tone with me, boy."

Hank groaned and turned to leave. He couldn't stand being in the room another fucking second. The walls were bursting with his despair and he longed to go drown in a bottle somewhere.

"Hank, please don't go- Where are you going?" Cordelia called after him, but he didn't answer. He couldn't even look at her anymore.