The Last Message:

Chapter Three

The clock on the wall is deafening in the empty room. It's just me and the mirror and the seconds that tick by. Everything else has faded into oblivion. I honestly can't remember if there's a bridesmaid with me or not. And who is walking me down the aisle? In my fragile state, all the details I stressed so carefully over are forgotten.

I keep looking back and forth, from the ring to my arm and back again. You would think, of all the details a bride keeps track of she would remember who she is marrying. But the longer I stand there, the less sure I am. Who am I marrying?

After the incident with the pack, I saw my friend maybe 5 or 6 times over the next couple of years. He showed up once when he knew there was going to be another raid for Mels (unsuccessful). Or another time he came on Christmas day while Mother had to go into work. It became a tradition of sorts to visit on my birthday as well. The first couple of times it was awkward and strange. I couldn't quite get used to his tall form sitting ram-rod straight at our kitchen table. But as time passed, it grew easier.

Following every visit, I picked up some new post hypnotic suggestion. Wearing my hair in braids because he commented it looked nice, doing dishes with Mother because he thought it would improve our relationship. I never noticed the changes or wondered where they came from, until his next visit where I promptly scolded him for influencing my decisions. He laughed and said he couldn't help it; it was a natural facet of his species.

In the moments when I could remember, he was my best friend. In the long days of real life, I was lonely for something I didn't know was missing. It was a strange way to live, bouncing between two worlds of consciousness.

This was the pattern of my life for several years, but the day of my seventeenth birthday changed the status quo of my existence forever. Most notably, that was the day Mother died.

It started out as a beautiful summer day. Mother baked my cake and I lay on my bed, my silent sitting on the floor.

"So let me get this straight," I said, "You're hunting a girl so she can kill a man, so he doesn't open a crack in the universe, so the world doesn't end?"

He laughed and nodded, "Ridiculous as it sounds, it's the truth."

"I don't even believe in aliens."

"What does that make me then?"

I smiled fondly and patted the top of his skull. "You're as human as me. Just a little different. Special."

"Cora, I don't even look human."

"Well, you've got eyes and hands and walk upright. You've got as much of a nose as Voldemort, so that's human enough for me. Mouths are overrated anyway."

"I have a mouth. All silents do."

I paused, my face falling as I remembered my father. "Yes, I've seen them."

"Sorry. I forgot you wouldn't have seen them in pleasant situations."

"No."

There was a noise in the kitchen and I was grateful for the distraction. There was an unspoken rule in our friendship never to speak of the dead, especially the dead either of us had caused. Hunting your best friend's species isn't really a lively topic of conversation.

"Mum?" I called. "You okay?"

There was no answer, but the noise didn't stop. Pots clattered and all at once I heard a scream.

"Mum!"

I was off the bed and down the hall, before I had even really processed anything. It could have been something as simple as a small kitchen fire, but I didn't take chances with the one parent I had left. I reached the kitchen in time to see the lights flickering and three menacing fingers towering over Mother, who held only a paring knife for defense.

"Mum, NO!"

The gun was downstairs and the silents were between me and the good kitchen knives, but it didn't matter. I couldn't stand by and watch another parent die. I was at her side in the time it took to blink, pulling her backwards, praying they didn't have enough electricity yet. We were almost to the hallway, when the first flash caught her square in the chest. The current passed through us both and I caught my breath in a half gasp, half shout. Being shot was sharp, but being electrified to the point of incineration was fire, a thousand pricks of heat at every point of my body. I closed my eyes, expecting the relief of death any moment.

All at once, it ended and I was pulled roughly away from Mother. Intensely strong and utterly inhuman, his arms caught my waist and dragged me from danger. I screamed and fought against his hold, reaching for Mother. I watched her body's destruction through wild eyes even as he broke into a run. This was not the comforting death of my father, with a last look, a last smile. This was cold torture, burning like liquid nitrogen through my body.

My silent kept running for miles and eventually I gave up fighting. When he finally set me down, the running only continued. My wrist was captive to his hand and we ran together through the property, past the maple grove, past the creek where we met, past field after field after field. The landscape grew unfamiliar and after several miles, my body couldn't keep up. I stopped outright, throwing my weight against his.

"I can't" I gasped through uneven breaths. "I can't keep going."

At last his hold was released and I collapsed to the ground. Only then did the tears finally catch up with me. I let them fall, forced them angrily from me, purging every feeling from me. Words eventually came. Furious, hateful words. I purged them too.

"How could you?!" I accused, turning the hate on my silent. "You just left her! My Mum! You left her! You let her DIE!"

"Cora, I didn't—I'm sorry. I—"

"You what?! What could you possibly to say to make things better?" I longed to turn from him, to drown in the drowsy existence of the real world, but I knew with that hazy forgetfulness I'd lose the last memory of my mother too. I'd never know what happened to her. I wouldn't even have a body…

"There was nothing I could do."

"You could have saved her!" A sob caught in my throat and my heart collapsed. "I could have saved her."

"That's not possible. Even if you had killed those three, there would have been more. They're looking for something."

"Well in case it's news for you, I'm not hiding Mels in my basement. I haven't spoken to her since someone messed with my life and manipulated me without my knowledge"

"You weren't even friends with her to begin with."

"I could have been! I guess we won't know now, will we. Thanks to you."

"What's the matter with you? I saved your life."

"What's the matter with me?" I stood abruptly, hands clenching. "What's the matter with you?! My mum just died. Doesn't that even register with you? You're such a machine. Don't you even feel? You can't cry, you can't frown, you can't even smile! I mean, don't you care about anything? What kind of creature doesn't have a heart?!"

He took a step back as if he had been slapped, and I immediately regretted my words. Only hours before I had insisted on his humanity. I crumbled to my knees again, my anger finally released. Now the numbness, the hurt, the regret set in, incapacitating me in a way the hatred couldn't. I hid my head between my knees, wrapping my arms tight around myself. Somewhere between the shoulder-wracking sobs, I felt another pair of arms surround my body, cocooning me in warmth.

He held me, rocked me through my grief, and stroked my hair as if all these human gestures came naturally. In reality, I knew he must have felt so unsure, so fearful of my shattered self. I loved him for that.

"I'm sorry, Cora." He whispered into my ear. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

Over and over again, his words became a mantra, a lullaby meant for my fractured heart. I let them catch me up, cradle me. He pled for forgiveness, but I knew that really the burden should have fallen to me. And it would, I knew. I would have to face my mistakes, beg for his forgiveness in return. But not then. Then, all I needed was sleep. Sleep, and blessed ignorance.

I woke up all alone in my room. I was muddled and confused. My soul felt like broken china and my body was stiff and sore. I tested each muscle, grimacing with pain. What happened? Why did everything hurt? I pulled into fetal position. The stiffness was manageable but my heart groaned with a very physical, very real weight. Something was missing.

I forced myself from the bed and walked the length of my room, trying to dispel the feeling. Something caught my attention. There was a note on my desk….. I opened it, shocked to see the words writing in ink that could only have been blood.

Cora,

I'm sorry, for everything. You are right, I cannot smile or cry or really show any emotion at all. But I do have a heart. I do care. I care about you. Try not to get into trouble. Please be careful. I'll be back soon.

P.S. There's money on the counter. You need to pay the rent.

The memories, loaded with all the pain and harrowing grief, were not unfamiliar to me. I must have known everything somewhere inside me. My body couldn't forget the worst day of my life so easily. And yet, through the pain, there was something else to, a kind of warmth and companionship towards my best friend in the whole world. I had been wrong, so wrong, to say all those things. I smoothed the paper gently, wondering how soon, soon was.

I was reluctant to let go of the note, knowing I would forget as soon as I did. But there was work to be done. I would have to support myself now, take over all the many things Mother had done for me. Still, I looked at the note with a smile; thanks to my silent, I knew at least one thing would definitely get done.

A/N Well there it is folks; I've definitely crossed into the realms of parent-cide now. I hear that get critiqued so much now a days as a plot device, I just find it funny. Really? We have to be picky because there's another story without parents? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Reviews are welcome and loved. As expected, I don't own Doctor Who. Also, can I just say, probably the trickiest thing about writing this is the Silence. I mean do you refer to them as silents or silence or Silence? So, I apologize for any inconsistencies of that kind in the writing. I haven't started the next chapter yet so I'm not sure what's up next... probably another note, a glance at why the silence came to her home, and possibly some insight into her wedding beyond the stuff at the top. Guess we'll see.