Her whole body burned with pain, each fibre seemed to be against the other in a battle for supremacy she couldn't stop or understand. Each joint seemed to grate against the other whenever their respective limbs were used. Every step upon her tortured feet brought renewed agony that ripped through her like the tide rips through sand on the shore. Its onslaught was relentless, giving no time for recuperation or preparation for the waves yet to come, just dulling her to the pain of the last. Tears streamed down her tired cheeks from eyes reddened by emotion. Her chest heaved with sobs that sucked more air in to her lungs than she could exhale through her gritted teeth. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. The one foot she could lift fully off of the floor seemed to drag as pulled herself along. Each time she leant on her crutch for support to move her other foot it seemed to dig further into the ground, threatening to topple her, taking away her only means of balance.

It felt as if she was going nowhere, as if she were stuck in a dream where no matter how fast she walked or ran she was always trapped on the same spot, never to move anywhere else again, forever doomed to remain where she was. Even if she had walked miles there was nothing, no point on the horizon to make it seem as if that were the case. All there was in front was darkness, all their was behind was darkness, she was surrounded by a wall of darkness that seemed to be creeping in closer and closer, threatening to suffocate her. As it seemed to grow thicker and thicker in front of her sore, misty eyes anxiety began to grip her.

Shapes flitted past her eyes. Incoherent shadows blended with the blackness around them. In each of those shapes there was a potential to solidify, to show their true form, their silhouettes unmasked. One of them seemed to be transforming each time it threw off its shroud in invisibility, it seemed to be filling the space the other shapes had left behind. It appearances were becoming more frequent as it seemed to take on substance and colour. While it seemed to be dancing around her she kept moving, something told her she had to keep moving, she couldn't stop.

Whatever was following her wanted to hurt her, its intentions were surrounding it like a black cloud. She kept moving, kept pushing against the pain, step after step after agonising step, one after the other, dragging herself along, desperate, no longer crying but trembling with the fear of instinct. Her exhaustion was taken over by adrenaline, it forced her on. It seemed like she was getting away from the shape, from the danger-

Until…

Doctor Malone and Kathleen looked up almost simultaneously at a singular sound that seemed to hurtle through the air towards them and made them stop dead in their tracks. It seemed almost to echo around them for a few brief seconds before dying away leaving behind it a wake of silence.

"What was that?" Kathleen whispered afraid of disturbing a resurgence of the sound.

Doctor Malone took a few steps forward, a step back and then seemed to walk in an elongated circle.

"I don't know," He replied keeping his voice low also, "I'm not even sure what direction it came from. We can't split up to find it, whatever it is, it's too risky."

"It couldn't have come from behind us could it?"

"I hope not." Was the emotionless, doubting reply.

Kathleen was frightened. She wanted to cling to the Doctor for comfort, for support but it was an intrusion on his person she was too embarrassed to make. To be pushed away by him would make things awkward, something she didn't want in the light of the situation. They needed to be able to work together, freely able to rely on the other without difficulty of feeling. Right now the needs of the person that had screamed came before her own and she let her mind work overtime on what the direction of the cry could have been. It had passed so quickly and yet with such agonising slowness. Even now it seemed as if nothing had happened, there was such silence all around them that it seemed almost to blend in with the darkness.

Continuing to look around her in the vain hope that her ears might pick up the trace of the sound, Kathleen was startled slightly when she felt a hand clasp hers. Looking down she could see that the gentle yet shaky grip was not that of a phantom or a similarly repulsive creature but that of the man standing beside her. She took comfort from his touch, a sign that he too was afraid but feeling safe in the knowledge that he wasn't alone. Taking his hand in hers she looked at him as out of the corner of her eyes she saw him turn his head to face her. With a nod she began to walk forward, on a course she hoped would take them to the point of origin of that single scream.

For one heart stopping moment it had been there. He had been there. His presence had overwhelmed her, forcing her to the ground. It had seemed to drown out everything as it pressed itself closer, closer, closer still. She had felt his hot breath on her cheek, smelt his unique scent, felt his rough hands retracing steps long planted in her flesh. He had held her there. A man in limbo, neither spirit nor demon, neither bone, blood nor flesh, as insubstantial as air and yet as strong as concrete. Her heart had pounded as she had crumbled under those memories she had tried to suppress. They had flooded to the fore of her mind like a torrent being released through newly opened flood gates. There was no way to stop it as it swept right through her, devastating everything in its path. It reawakened the patched over memories of her mother's words, that truth that had bored its way right down to her very soul.

Poisoned by grief, overwhelmed by sensations of intense emotions, she failed notice a quite different presence resting somewhere above her. He had gone. Instead there was someone else there. A benevolent spirit that infused calm within her but did not dispel the feelings warring within her. Its palm traced her cheek, its touch soft, gentle. She opened tear reddened eyes, filled with desire to know which apparition wished now to confront her.

Once focussed, her eyes beheld the sight that stood over her. The sun had broken from darkness' hands blazing trails of gold and azure through the whirls of black still left in the sky. In the foreground of that lustrous visage stood that beacon that had called her back from the brink that had calmed her soul in its quaking fires.

"Cain's gone. He won't be coming back," The person above her paused, "Ever."

With a sympathetic smile the person stooped and held out one of his hands. With her good hand, Robyn grasped it. she allowed herself to be lifted into a sitting position and then on to her still tired but slightly relieved feet. All of her shock had fluttered away on the breeze that lifted the ends of her hair as if they were being played with by a hand of invisible fingers. The words had sunk in. She knew that he had gone, that the words were true.

Distant voices echoed through the empty, silent air. Detective Miller's face hovered near her own for a few moments. Moments enough for her to understand that it had been he that had written the note guiding Kit to her. He squeezed her hand once and was gone.

She was left alone, alone with thoughts that dug into her mind like steel barbs. They stabbed her with their poisoned ends inflaming her with renewed grief over the truth of her paternity, the feeling of being tarnished. All peace within her however tenuous was shattered.

A bitter taste formed in her throat that she found hard to swallow.