Fiona supported Misty as they walked the distance from her shack to the mansion. Misty had insisted on walking by herself, but after almost dropping twice from exhaustion, she caved. Fiona felt weird having the wild child's arm around her neck and her body pressed against her own like that. She had been Misty's adoptive mother and provided for her for nine years, yet this was the closest they had ever come to a hug.

Spalding supported Misty on the other side. The both of them were needed to hold Misty, as neither had the strength to do it alone. Fiona thought they must look pathetic. The scant strength the chemotherapy let her keep, she had used to knock out the old maid and whatever strength Spalding's frail body still contained, which could have supported Misty alone had been spent dragging Delphine to her final feast. Fiona couldn't say she wasn't pleased with the thought that Delphine might finally experience a bit of that skin peeling herself, however disgusting the mental picture was.

When they reached the doorstep, Misty withdrew her hands and made them let her go.

"Trying to play tough, are you?"

Misty didn't answer. She looked exhausted and her appearance didn't help the picture. Droplets of blood mixed with the sweat on her face and she still had on the blood stained dress with the bloody shawl wrapped around it. She hadn't wanted to change, because the blood would soak right through the new dress anyway. She would scare the hell out of Cordelia. Misty shifted her weight and bared her teeth in a snarl, as if she could scare the pain away. She drew her breaths in careful, labored drags, but she could stand upright now. Fiona thought that was at least something. A sign she was healing. Her rapid restoration never ceased to amaze Fiona. She trusted this strange power to be enough.

Fiona opened the door and prayed that she could catch her daughter, before she saw anything.

She was in no luck. Cordelia came out of the kitchen right as the three of them came in. Her eyes scanned the scene and all the color vanished from her face.

"Cordelia, it's not as bad as it-"

"Misty!" She rushed right past Fiona with an expression of unconcealed panic and cupped Misty's face in her hands. "Misty, are you okay?" Cordelia didn't let Misty talk, but looked to the blood on her clothes. Her hands trembled as they reached out for the shawl, but she changed her mind, withdrew them and looked at Misty's face again. "What happened to you?!"

Fiona noticed how the pained grimace had disappeared from Misty's face, as if she didn't want Cordelia to see how much it still hurt. She tried to stand on her own, but had to grasp Cordelia's shoulder for support. Even so, she drew out a small smile.

"I'm okay, Delia, it's just a cut. Takes more than that to get rid of me." Her voice was soft and warm now and her smile set askew. Fiona thought it was bullshit, but it seemed to calm Cordelia a little.

"Take all the credit, why don't you?" Fiona said and wiped her own face with the back of her hand. She had spatters of blood all over too, but Cordelia hadn't even noticed.

They both ignored her. "You can't stand here like this, come on inside", Cordelia said and led Misty into the living room. Just then Hank came down the stairs.

"What's going on down- what's she doing here?" His eyes caught the back of Misty's head and rushed down the last steps.

"Not now, Hank", Fiona hissed at him as she followed him into the living room.

"You should lie down, Misty", Cordelia said. Her voice shook and she kept eyeing the blood on Misty's dress.

Fiona caught the brief glance Misty shot Hank, before she said: "Don't need it." Fiona almost wanted to laugh, as Misty sat down on the couch and her eyes closed for a moment, as if to shut out the pain. She was hiding her weakness like animal refusing to give up dominance, only because Hank was in the room with them. Fiona followed the silent fight between them. She wasn't sure whose gaze expressed the deepest hate.

"Will someone please tell me what happened here?" Cordelia asked, looking from Fiona to Misty, her eyes still filled with tears.

"Delphine happened", Misty said. They all listened for a few minutes as Misty told them how Delphine has knocked on her door and stabbed her. "She came for revenge. For back then. She always hated me for bein' what I am. Woulda been in real trouble, if Fiona hadn't saved me." At that she looked up at Fiona and the gratitude was real.

Cordelia turned around and looked at her too. "You saved her?" It was as if she only now realized Fiona was even there. Then she smiled through her tears. "Thank you." Fiona thought she felt something break inside her at the sound of these words.

Cordelia looked back at Misty and their hands found each other. It barely seemed a conscious act, just an impulse neither of them thought to fight. "It's all my fault, Misty, I'm so sorry. I never warned you that she was back."

"Didn't you do that the other night?" Hank asked from the back of the room, where he stood leaning against the doorframe with an angry look on his face. A loaded silence followed.

Fiona thoroughly enjoyed watching Hank trying to guess what had filled the blank space of that other night. She realized she had given the man too much credit over the years. She thought he might, at the end of the day, have a certain handle on Cordelia, which she never possessed herself, but he was about as observant as a blind man. It baffled her to no end how he had managed to not see this. It shone from her.

Cordelia turned to look at her husband, apology written all over her face. "Something came up. It's not what you think, it was someone from Misty's past who had attacked her and she was upset, so I forgot."

"How many enemies can you gather in one swamp?" Fiona asked Misty, who bared her teeth and snarled. She still looked drained, but the motion hinted of a little more energy. Hank was about to say something, but before a multi front fight could break out, Spalding interrupted them. He came in from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of water and a towel.

"Spalding?" Cordelia's expression was one of utter disbelief. For a moment, Fiona had forgotten all about him. He went around the couch, placed the bowl on the table and offered Misty a wet towel. When she nodded and lay back, he gently placed it on her forehead.

"Thanks Spaldin'."

He smiled at her.

"Where did he come from? How is he here?" Cordelia asked, while looking from Misty to Fiona again.

"He found me", Fiona explained. "He's the reason I found Delphine. We should probably give him credit for that."

Cordelia's eyes widened and she turned again to look at Spalding. In that moment no one would be able to tell that she had been appalled by him her whole life. "Thank you." Again, the two simple words came from a place so deep within Cordelia's heart it made Fiona's own heart flutter. Spalding smiled back as an answer.

"So that's your old butler?" Hank asked. He sounded pissed off, like a resentful child who felt left out of the group.

"Yes that's him", Cordelia said in a distant voice. She was looking at Misty's blood again. "I need to see how bad it is", she told her. She untangled her fingers from Misty's and reached out, but Misty grabbed her wrist and stopped her. She looked up and the little towel fell down, so she removed it. The two women held each other's gaze for a moment in silence as everyone watched them.

"I can handle it. I need to know."

Fiona concluded that the force of denial was exceptionally strong within Hank, if he still thought he stood a chance after tonight. She studied her daughter as a silent argument went on between her and Misty. Fiona had come to understand that this was a secret form of communication between them. A language meant only for the two of them, like those of twins. And the air was so thick with the energy surrounding them both that they wouldn't have been more obvious, if they were making out right there on her couch.

Watching the two, Fiona couldn't help pitying boy Foxx. No one paid him any mind. Cordelia had only room for Misty and her injury, which might be understandable under the circumstances, and Misty herself held just about zero regards for the husband. Now he lurked in the back like some old poster on the wall, as if afraid to go closer. He always was scared of women, but this was reaching new heights. He looked laughably uncomfortable. Of course, Fiona thought, he was losing his wife to an illiterate swamp rat; the man must be in hell.

It might have only been seconds, but the silence seemed to stretch on for minutes on end, before the muted discussion was over. Misty let go of Cordelia's wrist and leaned back again. Cordelia hesitated a moment, then looked up a Spalding.

"Can you get me a scissor? They haven't been moved."

He nodded and went. Cordelia untied the shawl, her fingers more steady now. When Spalding came back and handed her the scissor, Cordelia carefully cut the bloodstained cloth away, opened up a hole to access the wound. It looked darker now as the skin around the hole had colored from the impact and the dried blood had stiffened around it. Cordelia's breath hitched when she saw it and her eyes watered up again, but she held it in.

"Why hasn't it healed yet?"

"Okay, maybe it was a little more than a cut", Misty admitted. "But don't worry, it'll heal. Just takes a little longer when it's myself."

"Shouldn't we get you to a hospital?"

Misty shook her head. "Hospitals ain't for me. You know that."

Cordelia nodded with a grave look on her face. "How long before it heals up?" Her voice sounded fragile again.

"In a couple days it'll be nothin'. Coulda been much worse." Misty's voice was light and reassuring, but at her words, Cordelia's tears rose and spilled over again. "Hey…"

"You can't scare me like that again."

"I'm okay, darlin', I promise. Save those tears." Misty reached up and touched her face with a delicacy Fiona didn't think she possessed.

Fiona stood back in the shadows and hated that Misty could comfort her daughter so effortlessly, while she herself was left to stand here and having her heart broken by a simple thank you.

Hank stormed out of the room.

"Hank…" Cordelia didn't say anymore. It was no use; the front door had already slammed. Cordelia stared past Fiona for a second or two, her features laced with sadness.

"Worry about one thing at a time, Cordelia", Fiona said and nodded at Misty. She sent Spalding a look and then they left the room.

"Get me a glass of water", Fiona ordered Spalding. If he was back to stay, she might as well put him to use. He nodded and went for it. In the living room, Fiona could hear them talk.

"Why can't you heal yourself as fast?"

"I don't know. Just doesn't work like that." Misty's voice sounded better too, less strained, but it might just be the company; Fiona had a sneaking suspicion that had something to do with it.

"At least let me clean it."

Spalding came back with a glass of water for her and one, with which he pointed to the living room.

"I'll take it", Fiona said. "Go see if there's a first aid kit with gauze somewhere."

Fiona walked into the room again with the odd feeling that she was intruding a private moment. Nothing should be private in her house, yet the hum in the air told her differently. Cordelia was busy dipping the blood away from Misty's skin with the wet towel and Misty watched her do it. She didn't utter a word – she was tough after all. When Fiona neared, she looked up. Her eyes clearly told Fiona that she was intruding. Fiona held up the glass and placed it in front of Misty, which caused her gaze to soften. Neither of them said anything.

Fiona left the room again, but she kept an eye on them from the doorway. She had never seen them together as adults, and while the same old sense of comfort had settled around them, there was something undeniably different about their interactions now.

"I want you to stay here until I know you're healed", Cordelia said and looked up. Misty shot her a glance. "Please? Just two days. Then… I'll talk to Hank."

Misty's head snapped up. "You promise?"

Cordelia nodded. "I promise."

One of the brightest smiles, Fiona had ever seen, broke out on Misty's face. Fiona couldn't help the little smile tugging at her own lips. Misty's mood was suddenly radiant. Fiona left the doorway, thinking that Mr. Foxx might as well start packing his bags.

O0O

Hank was sure now, having spent two days sheltering Misty and her recovery, that he knew what hell looked like. It was one thing to have Cordelia's dragon mother staring at him with disapproval, but the silent war he had to take up every time Misty so much as looked at him left him boiling with rage. He drowned his words in cheap liquor, but even in a nearly constant drunken haze, Misty got to him.

She rarely left the guest room at all – the one that used to be her old room, Cordelia had told him and he had to take another drink, because he wanted to scream at her every time she so much as mentioned Misty – and if she did, she was outside in the greenhouse. And Hank tried to camp out at the bars instead, but still he couldn't help catching them together. They never did anything that crossed the line, except that Misty somehow made every innocent touch look like crossing the line. Even talking. He couldn't get over how soft her voice was, whenever she talked to Cordelia. It was nothing like the woman he had met in the woods.

Cordelia was different too. He couldn't put words to it, but she was. They were both different people when they were with each other, as if they had their own little alternate world and he hated the sight. He would look at Cordelia after she had spent a few minutes alone with Misty – because he'd be damned if he was getting anywhere near that crazy alligator tamer – and she would have a look of inner peace on her face and hate came out of his pores.

By the time Misty finally went home to her shack, all healed up by whatever dark magic had roots in her body, Hank was so coiled up with rage, he jumped at the first sight of Cordelia's return.

She came into the living room, where he sat with a half-empty bottle of vodka. A headache was emerging from back of his head, creeping over his skull and even her gentle voice cut like glass.

"I'm back."

"I can see that", he snapped and got up. She cringed at his tone and moved, when he pushed passed her in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Hank. I know that was asking a lot of you, having her here, but I just couldn-"

"Will you just shut up about her now? Let me enjoy that's she finally gone!" He turned to see Cordelia recoil from his words.

"I'm sorry", she whispered.

"You know what, I don't think you are", he spat. The words started rolling off his tongue, a little too fast for his drunken mind to keep up. "I think you don't give a shit how I feel. Who the hell invites their mistress to a sleepover? I don't give a fuck if she's cut in half, that was over the line!"

"Please don't talk like that." Her eyes were filled with tears, but he ignored them. The sight might hurt, but the fog around his senses protected him. "I know this is awful, but I thought we somehow could-"

"Well we can't! I can't do this. I can't even look at you! So I'm gonna go somewhere, where you and your mean, condescending dragon mother can't find me."

"No, please don't." Her voice was a broken whisper. A quivering flood of tears. "Hank, please don't leave. I need you."

"Why? What exactly do you need me for, huh? It looks to me like Misty can do everything!"

"But I love you."

"Stop saying that!" He bellowed at her. He didn't even notice he had thrown his glass, until he heard it splinter somewhere in the living room. Cordelia started sobbing and clung to the doorframe for support. Hank didn't care. "Could you just not? Just shut up! It would make it all so fucking easy to understand if you didn't, but this…" His empty hands grasped in the air for the drink, he had just thrown. His throat felt strained already and forced him to continue in a lower voice. "I thought your demons was the enemy that you and I were going to have. And I could handle that. But not this. I don't know what that thing is between you two, but clearly I'm no match. She must have some spell on you or something. Me? I'm just good old fashioned in love with you, but that's not enough anymore now, is it?!"

He hated that he could hear tears in his own voice now. He wanted to yell more, but his voice wouldn't let him and the look on Cordelia's face threated to take the life right out of him. He watched as she crumbled to the floor, hid her face in her hands and cried. He snorted out a bitter laugh.

"I wasn't even supposed to do this with you. I wasn't supposed to love you. It was all my father's scheme, you know. He sent me to you to dig up stuff about your old crazy maid, so he could use it against Fiona. And I did. You really think the newspapers had so much information? I'm telling you, his campaign against Fiona came right out of your mouth. And I was free to go then, but idiot I am, I fell in love with you. Stupid fucking cliché. So this is what I get, I guess."

Cordelia showed her face again. The tears still ran, but she had stopped sobbing. Instead she stood up, looked at him with utter disbelief.

"I can't believe my mother was right about you. Why would you do that?"

He snorted again. "Come on, Cordelia, we both do too much to please our parents. So I guess I betrayed you once too. But not like this. And I've been there for you since, I should still get some credit, I think. I may not be as good a fuck-"

"Please Hank, that's not what it's about." Her expression had turned dark and though her voice still shook from crying, there was a new and harder shade to the misery. Disappointment, anger. But he didn't care anymore.

"How's Misty going to pay for all the doctors, huh? How's she going to help you get fixed?"

Cordelia choked out a painful chuckle. "That's the thing, Hank. With her, I don't need fixing."

All the air rushed out of his throat in an odd way as the words sunk in. A weird sound that wasn't even words came out of his mouth. It sounded a bit like laughter.

"Fine. That's fine, I'm done! I'm just gonna go out and tell the whole world what kind of witch you've rejected me for!"

He turned before he could catch the reaction on her face. He fumbled for the car keys on the table by the door, ripped the door open and left the mansion. Now he knew this was never really his home. He ignored Cordelia calling his name, threw himself in the driver's seat and backed out of the driveway without another thought.

O0O

Misty's patience was slipping up. Her whole world was wearing thin, as she waited for Cordelia to show up. She had promised to be patient, promised to stay away until Cordelia had sorted it out with Hank and came to find her. She would do that, give her the needed space, now that Cordelia finally agreed to set things right. Only it had been four days now and it felt like something was wrong. Like a little injured bird in her chest, fluttering around, calling for help. But she had promised her. And she knew that her being there in the middle of that conversation would ruin whatever scraps of a relationship with Hank Cordelia hoped to save. She didn't need two whole days back in the Goode Mansion to figure that out.

So, she tended to her garden, played every Fleetwood Mac song thrice and spent hours talking to Nick. Still, impatience crawled in her body like ants. Being with Cordelia had changed her perspective on solitude. It didn't use to scream like this.

Her wound was barely a scratch now. It had taken quite a while and it was still tender at places, but she didn't admit that to anyone. She needed to get out of that house. She couldn't be there as long as Hank was, the stench of their dying marriage stung in her eyes. It was too much, watching Cordelia torment herself like that. At least out here, Misty could breathe.

Late at night, the fourth day after Misty's return to the swamp there was a knock on her door. But it wasn't Cordelia. She knew that even before she opened the door.

Outside stood Fiona. The anger Misty had built up in those few moments before she answered, blew away when she saw the look on Fiona's face.

"What's wrong?" Misty demanded, icky heat already rising in her throat.

"It's Cordelia", Fiona answered. Her tone was so hard and cold, Misty almost didn't hear the fear underneath. "She's not herself, she's… Frankly, I can't tell you what she is. She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't talk. Hell, she doesn't even cry. Cordelia always cries. They're threatening to admit her, if she doesn't respond soon and I don't know how to talk to her. I never did. But you do and if anyone can get through to her, it's you." The dread grew in her with every word and when Fiona stopped talking, everything stopped for a moment. She had been right, something was wrong. Yet she stayed here and let it happen.

"What happened?"

Fiona sighed. There was an odd sense of defeat about her. Misty was just about to demand that she spit it out, when she said: "Hank is dead. Goddamn fool got himself killed in a traffic accident. And Cordelia is not taking it well."

Misty didn't even bother to close her door, before she started walking. "Is she home?"

"Yes", Fiona answered behind her. She could barely keep up, but Misty didn't bother to slow her pace. "I left her with Spalding. I didn't want to leave, but someone had to fetch you. Why don't you own a goddamn phone?"

Misty ignored her and kept walking, dread churning her gut.

"Tell me more 'bout what happened", she said instead, to try to keep her brain focused. It was spiraling into panic at the thought of Cordelia alone with her pain. Spalding could never comfort her.

Fiona came up beside her with effort. "The police came to us late at night four days ago and Cordelia went into her bizarre state of mind almost immediately. She turns into an empty shell and sometimes she hears things. It has happened once before, when Myrtle died. Back then she was admitted for several weeks, it was awful. I won't put her through that again. I took her to her psychiatrist two days ago, but I can't get her to take the medication. See if you can't make her do it, because I'm about one step from shoving it down her throat."

"You're not shovin' anythin'", Misty snarled at her. "Why didn't you get me sooner?"

"Excuse me, can you drive a car? Do you have money to go buy medicine? I was busy."

Misty didn't answer, because just then they reached the right street and Misty ran the rest of the way, leaving a panting Fiona behind.

"Delia, where are you?" She called as soon as she was inside. She received no answer. With a pounding heart, she marched down the hall to search, but stopped as Spalding appeared with a steaming cup in his hands.

"Where is she?"

He looked at her with sad eyes. Then he looked at the open doorway to the living room. Misty went in.

She saw her at once. Cordelia sat in a chair over by the far end window and looked out into the emerging darkness. She sat with her hands in her lab, eyes fixated beyond the window glass and she didn't move an inch. Misty heart pounded even worse. Everything was still about her, too still. The hum Misty always felt in her presence had vanished, as if sucked into the vortex of darkness that currently resided in Cordelia. Misty could feel it even from this distance.

"Darlin'?"

Nothing. Cordelia didn't even turn her head.

Somewhere behind Misty, the front door closed, but Fiona kept away. She didn't interrupt as Misty carefully tread closer to the chair and the silent body in it.

Misty stepped close, hovered over Cordelia for second. It was as if some invisible wall had been raised around her, blocking the treads of their connection. Even the usual magnetism seemed to have lost its pull. As if her pole has been turned off.

For once, Misty didn't know where to start.

She kneeled down beside Cordelia, took her hand. It remained cold and immobile under Misty's fingers and she had to swallow the lump in her throat, before she could talk.

"Cordelia, look at me." Her voice came out harsh from fright, but it worked. Cordelia finally turned her head to meet her eyes. What Misty found was a quiet emptiness, bottomless and dark. Misty felt cold as a sudden unknown and paralyzing fear overtook her body. It was as if Cordelia wasn't even there. And there was the strangest kind of injury hiding in her body. Misty could feel it, but she couldn't touch it.

"Misty?" Even her voice sounded distant. Like an ephemeral ghost just passing through the room.

"I'm here, darlin'", she choked out. "I heard about Hank. Delia, I'm so sorry."

The words barely registered in her face. It looked like every emotion had been wiped out of her features, and left was only a mask of something so empty it scared Misty to tears.

A muscle in Cordelia's hand twitched and Misty tightened her grip.

"They say it's all my fault", Cordelia said in the same distant voice as before. It sounded hoarse too, as if it hadn't been used in a while. "They say I did it, because I let him leave."

"Who does?" It was a reflex to think of Fiona, but something told Misty, she wasn't to blame this time. Not with the way she came begging Misty for help.

Cordelia lifted her hands to her head, rubbed her temples in symmetrical circles and her empty gaze started to swim. Misty noticed little red claw marks on each side of her face. Then she looked at Misty again and with her right hand, she pointed at her own head.

"Them."