A/N: I just wanted to say thanks again for reading and showing me such lovely support. Have also gotten some very interesting comments, which really got me thinking, so thank you for that too ;) Anyway, here's the next in line:


The sound of the door slamming vibrated through her in violent waves and the silence that followed only seemed only to enhance the sense of invisible pain. Cordelia exclaimed a mix between a cry and a moan and fell back onto the couch. She buried her head in her hands and wished once again that the whole world would just go away. Beneath her, a black hole threatened to open. The churning in her stomach was the sensation of herself beginning to fall.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?" Fiona's voice came from somewhere far away, too sharp for her hurting ears to take.

She didn't. But on the other hand she did, because who else did she have to turn to now?

"Because it didn't look like your everyday squabble to me. Dare I hope you've finally asked the fox to run home to his cave?"

Cordelia didn't answer. She didn't look up either to see the gloat, she knew she would find in her mother's eyes. How could she have let it come to this? What she had done was awful as it was, but to let him find out that way. She hadn't even had the decency to tell him herself. And though she may have tried, she couldn't convince herself that it was what she had come home to do. She had been content with deceiving him for a little while longer, just another moment to hold on to both. She didn't deserve either.

"Does Hank know about Misty's ability? I assume it was about her, Lord knows her and those little beasts at school is all you ever talk about-"

"Could you just shut up and be a mother for five minutes?" Cordelia snapped. When she uncovered her face, Fiona was looking at her with shock. She sat down in the armchair.

"Certainly."

Suddenly Cordelia's heart began beating with anxiety. She took a moment to dry her eyes, hoping to stretch the minutes on. How on earth was she going to explain this? The bare thought of revealing this truth left her terrified. It wasn't as though she was coming out; she had done so already. Only it felt like it, because Misty was such a special case. She had been so thoroughly weaved into both their lives that introducing her like this was like making her a stranger again. Or making herself a stranger.

"Well?" Fiona raised an eyebrow. "Do you expect me to guess?"

Cordelia shook her head and tried to gather her courage. "No, trust me, you'll never guess this one."

"Now I'm curious."

Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment, prayed for strength and willed herself to speak, when she opened them again.

"The fight was about Misty, yes. You see, Misty and I, we… things have been different in some way since we met each other again. Our relationship has become somewhat… romantic."

She almost couldn't make herself hold her mother's gaze. She could see the change happen in her eyes as the news sunk in. Then:

"Oh. Oh that's rich! Ha!" Fiona clapped her hands together and flashed Cordelia a smile, she couldn't quite interpret. "I guess I should have seen it coming. You two always stuck to each other. Joined at the hip like some Siamese freak show." She scoffed. "And Myrtle knew it too."

"Auntie Myrtle? What do you mean?"

"Oh don't ask me how, but she knew." Fiona looked to the sky, as if asking her sister just that question. She shook her head, as she returned to the room. "She started dropping me hints around the time you were eleven. I told her she was out of her mind. She might have been, but I suppose she had this one right, huh?"

Cordelia was for a moment consumed by this thought. And she thought of what Misty had said about that night with the party. Maybe this had been in the cards for years before she had even given it thought.

"Did she approve?" Cordelia asked. She hoped for a simple yes, but Fiona waved her off with impatience.

"Don't be stupid, child, of course she did. She adored you. You could have married a goat and she would still think you walked on water. Although I suppose the marriage wasn't far off…"

"Do you approve?" The question was out of her mouth, before she could stop it. Even Fiona halted and looked at her with surprise.

"Why does it matter what I think?"

"It does."

Fiona leaned back into the chair and gazed at her for what felt like an eternity. As if she was taking her time to weigh out the pros and cons and Cordelia was about to beg her to say something, when her expression softened and she broke the silence with a question:

"Does she do a better job at keeping you happy than your Neanderthal of a husband?"

"Don't call him that."

"Does she?"

Cordelia had not been expecting this angle. At last, she nodded.

"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?"

"But…" They had talked their way in a full circle and arrived at throbbing, agonizing core of the issue. "I cheated on him. I've deceived him for months. He never deserved that. He has always been good to me, the best way he could. But the worst of it all, what hurts me the most is that I'm hurting Misty too. She doesn't deserve what I've dragged her into either. I shouldn't have let any of this happen, but I can't be without her, mom. What do I do?" She felt the tears rolling out a second time and she tried in vain to stop them all. She kept wiping her face, until Fiona stopped her.

"You have an enormous heart, Cordelia. I don't know where you got that from, certainly not from me. And your father didn't have your conscience either. Now, I don't think that boy deserves you, never have, but you can't let me make this choice for you, darling. Clean up your own mess, and I'll live with however you do it."

Fiona got up then, went to the kitchen and came back with a pack of tissues.

"Here."

"Thanks."

Cordelia dried her face and tried to ascertain what solution might emerge from the deepest talk she and her mother had had in years. Though nothing presented itself, she still somehow felt a little better. The hole beneath her closed up for now and she relaxed into a new mindset, one determined to find a solution. In the temporary ease, thoughts otherwise left alone came to surface.

"Do you have a friend named Pauline?" Cordelia asked. Fiona barely took time to think.

"I don't do friends. Particularly not people who goes by Pauline."

"Hank said you have an old friend of that name."

Fiona shrugged. "Never heard of her."

"She knew about Misty."

Fiona gave her a suspicious look, but Cordelia had no more information to offer. She shrugged it off again and fell into a long silence. Cordelia thought she might be speculating the matter, but she couldn't be sure. Her own head was empty. Determination or not, the shock hadn't quite worn off yet.

They sat in the same muted positions, until the door opened and the cold wind brought reality back in with it. Cordelia recognized Hank's steps within an instant and her stomach churned again. She looked to her mother.

"Can you give us some time alone?"

Fiona said nothing, only nodded and got up. She was out of the door, before Hank entered the room.

O0O

Fiona needed her fix tonight more than ever. She kept thinking of all Myrtle's ridiculous allusions. All the hints and knowing smiles she had given over the years, which Fiona had always brushed off with annoyance. Myrtle always saw the things Fiona couldn't. Fiona hated it, but she knew it was true.

She wondered, briefly, what the atmosphere would taste like when she came home. She would be blissfully numb to it by the time she got home again, but she did wonder. Hank had been crying while he was out. She saw it in his face in those seconds they had passed each other in the hall. The fool really did love her daughter. She knew that too. He had spent months courting her back in college and he had practically torn her front door down to get to Cordelia back, when Myrtle died and Cordelia had to leave campus to tend to her broken mind. It was the deepest hole Fiona had ever seen her daughter fall into. The first clue should have been the temporary shift from antidepressants to antipsychotics, but seeing her sit there… It scared Hank too, more than he wanted to admit, Fiona knew, but he stayed anyway. Maybe he would run this time. This was a different kind of enemy for him, but if she knew Hank right, and she was fairly sure she did, this one was no less terrifying.

The shift from the crowded Boston streets to the more peaceful ones of outer New Orleans was a welcome change, if she had to say it. Putting the noise and the thick air at a distance was good for her, the doctor had said. He had authorized her temporary part time working situation and Fiona was glad he had, with all that happened down here in the southern heat. If Hank planned to divorce Cordelia over this drama, Fiona was glad she was at least here to see it. She had rooted for that day a long time.

What gave her the most peace though, wasn't the change of the colors and the temperature; it was that the shadows didn't creep up so much here. That was, until tonight of course. Now she felt it again; the sense that the shadows took form and watched her. She had thought to mention this to someone, but she never did. The doctor would just tell her that she was tired from the treatments, and Cordelia had other things to worry about. So, she ignored the shadows and continued on into the small streets of New Orleans, hoping it was just a ghost. Maybe the spirit of Myrtle, back to haunt her. She always said she could spent eternity here, if she had had the money to move.

Fiona reached their custom spot. He stood down by the alley, leaning against the wall with the posture of a gentleman. She supposed he was. By his foot stood his saxophone case. Only it had been years since he had played the axe. He had told her that story on one of their first meetings, but she had forgotten half of it. Fiona cared much more for the new content anyway.

He looked up as she came closer. A skew smile played at his lips.

"If it isn't my favorite customer."

"The flattery won't earn you extra."

He chuckled. "I suppose not. But manners never hurt, even in my business. You sound upset today."

"Step in it, why don't you? Now get on with it."

He only smiled. "Always in such a hurry, Fiona. Don't you ever take a minute to chat?"

Fiona scoffed. Chatting would give too much away. She would sooner die than admit that she found his boyish charm alluring. And this was the essence of the dilemma: She might.

"I just need the off-switch, if you don't mind. My daughter already seems to think I'm dating you, let's not feed the fire."

"Would that be so terrible? I wouldn't mind being your off-switch, pretty lady."

Fiona rolled his eyes at him and looked to the side, so the darkness would cover her smile.

"Don't get your hopes up, lover boy. One thing at a time."

He sighed, admitted defeat and bowed down to open the case. From an inner pocket behind his neatly polished saxophone, he drew a bag of snowy powder and placed with in Fiona's hand with delicacy, looking her in the eye as he did. She handed him the money, no smiling back. His hand lingered for a moment before withdrawing with his payment. Fiona stuck the little bag into her purse.

"Who calls himself 'The Axeman' anyway?" She asked him.

"It's an homage to my first love, of course. The sax has always been the best way for me to express myself. But you can call me Cometh, if you'd like."

She scoffed, her mind already in a hurry to leave. To find a place to set off her escape.

"Good night, Axeman."

"Good night, Fiona. Until next time." He lifted his hat and smiled. She couldn't help returning the smile this time, before turning on her heel. There was a thought in her head, she couldn't quite kill. One that said she had yet another motivation to seek out Misty. If her body wasn't full of poison disguised as medicine and if a simple walk didn't make her tired, she might explore this train of thought, but life wanted it otherwise. Instead she pushed it away and her mind went back to this afternoon's great revelation. Not that it was so great after all; on the contrary, she felt foolish that she hadn't seen it coming. Misty and Cordelia… She wondered who had initiated the romance. Her first thought was Misty, but she never pushed Cordelia. She was the follower. But did her daughter really own the guts to pull a stunt like this? She would have to ask someday.

Fiona found her usual pub bathroom and made her escape before the thought of her daughter and the swamp witch together became too intrusive.

O0O

While Fiona walked the depths of New Orleans, Cordelia went to the forest. She had left Hank at home, thought it best to give him space to lick the wound she had carved in him. She didn't conceal where she was going, but she promised to keep it sober, until they had come to some sort of solution. He hadn't left her, like she thought he would. Like he should. He stayed, barricaded in their room with silence, but he was there. The least she could do was to keep a certain distance now to preserve the shredded remainders of his pride. She owed him that much.

Misty's expression, when she opened the door, varied a great deal these days. Her face use to always beam with levity, but now more often than not her expression was guarded. Today was one of the days, where the smile came a little slower.

"Hey", Misty said.

No matter how much Cordelia lectured herself on sparing her wounded husband any more pain, the sight of Misty always made her heart beat a little faster. But she would do it right from now on. Her arm still hurt from the panic Hank's hand branded onto her. It had become a faded palette of blue and purple, small markings of fingers in a line down her upper arm.

Cordelia pulled Misty into a tight embrace. And the comforting sense of home that eluded from these touches pulled her from Hank, more by the second. It was hard to let go.

"You okay?" Misty asked, when she did at last. She didn't reach for a kiss, but led Cordelia inside and closed the door. Her voice was full of worry. It sounded like she had a bad premonition.

"I have so much to sort out. I don't know where to begin."

"I'm sorry."

Cordelia shook her head. "It's not your fault. None of it is." She removed her jacket. The sleeves of her t-shirt were too short to conceal all of the bruising, and they spread out with faint colors on her pale skin beneath the edge of her short sleeve. She had thought to cover them up – perhaps it was cruel of her to expose Misty to exactly how bitter this situation had become. But she knew she wouldn't be able to hide it anyway. She could never hide anything from Misty.

Just as she expected, Misty saw it instantly and walked over.

"What happened there?" It was in her voice already, the suspicion. Cordelia touched it absentmindedly.

"It's not so bad, but can you heal it?" Misty nodded and gently pushed Cordelia's hand away. Her fingers brushed over the colored skin twice, before she closed her hands over it and Cordelia felt the familiar warmth seep into her flesh. When the warmth subsided, Misty loosened her grip, but only one hand left her skin. The pain was gone.

"What happened?" She asked again. Her eyes had hardened. The sky became dark in her gaze.

"Please don't overreact; he had every right to be angry. I promise, he only lost his temper for-" She stopped when she saw all the color draining from Misty's face.

"No", she said with a voice of a building thunder. "That's it." Then she turned around on her heel and headed for the door.

"Misty don't!" Cordelia grasped for her hand, but Misty tore it free and ripped the door open. Her face was pale and twisted into a mask of a rage, Cordelia had never seen before. She grabbed Misty by the wrist, harder this time, to keep her from getting away. The fury in Misty's eyes scared her.

"Let me go! I swear I'm gonna break his hand!"

"Misty please listen!" Cordelia saw no other way but to put herself in the path. She stepped in front of Misty and cupped her face in her hands. With her door blocked, Misty stopped. Cordelia could feel the woman's entire frame trembling and there were tears of rage building in the corners of her eyes. Her breaths came out uneven, barely controlled, but she didn't push Cordelia away. A cold blew around their legs in the open doorway.

"Don't be rash, love. Let me explain."

Misty drew a shaky breath and leaned against her forehead. Gave up. "He can't do that to you." Her voice shook with the same agonized fury that her body did. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he knows. He guessed it yesterday and I told him the rest. That's why he's so hurt he lashed out. It's my fault for not being honest with him. And for treating him like this. He didn't think, but let him have his space. I owe him at least that."

Cordelia felt arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. The warm from Misty's body seeped into her own and thawed her from the cold of the night. Cordelia could hear Misty's breathing return to normal and feel the trembling fade.

"Okay. I'll stay. But he ain't gettin' no space, if he does that again. I won't have it."

Cordelia nodded in agreement and stroked Misty's cheeks with her thumbs. This was the point at which she should let go, out of respect for Hank, but offering Misty comfort was undeniable. She knew what this should tell her.

"So now what?" Misty asked. Cordelia could feel the breaths of these words on her face. Misty's strong hands fisted in her dress and why was she still fighting this?

She loosened her grip and Misty mimicked without protest. They closed the door and sat down on the bed. "Now", Cordelia said. "I have to find a solution in which I hurt all of you the least. I'm not letting you go, Misty. I can't. But I have to figure out how to work that out with Hank. I love him too. You understand?"

To her relief Misty nodded and smiled. It wasn't as bright as when she was truly content, but it told Cordelia everything she needed to know.

"I need to keep things sober between us until then. Can you… Can you just be my best friend for a while?"

Cordelia realized that she was putting all the responsibility onto Misty's shoulders with these words. If Misty decided against it, if she kissed her right now, Cordelia didn't think she'd have it in her to stop it.

Then Misty nodded again.

"Okay."

Cordelia was so relieved she smiled, despite herself. She took Misty's hand and held it in her own, watched their fingers entwine. She might be crossing the line again, but honestly, despite all her promises, she wasn't entirely sure where it went.

"I told Fiona too... And she told me that Myrtle knew this would happen. You and I, I mean. She was special like that. Fiona didn't believe her then, but I suppose she has to now."

"What'd Fiona say?" Misty asked. The curiosity in her voice was just that. Cordelia knew that Fiona's opinion wouldn't change Misty's thoughts one bit. But the mention of Myrtle had cheered her up a bit, Cordelia could hear it in her voice. When she looked up, she found that some of the light had come back to Misty's face.

"She asked if you were better at keeping me happy than Hank is."

The rest of the world started to fade into oblivion again. Cordelia felt it float away at the end of her own sentence. Left was only the gaze which held hers and though the light remained, there was a gravity to Misty's stare.

"Am I?"

It was strange how her pulse reacted to such a simple question, but it was only because deep down Cordelia accepted the weight of her gesture, when she nodded.

"Your eyes don't say 'friend' right now, Delia."

It felt like her heart skipped a beat.

"I know."