Warning for previous MCD

'It was I who gave him my powers. It wasn't his fault. A Reaper's job isn't to kill innocent men.'

Kyrano listened to his daughter's pleading. In his heart he was so proud of her, but he knew he couldn't show it. No matter what she said Tanusha had crossed a line that no Soul Reaper should ever have crossed, and the consequences of which were unthinkable for him. He spoke as softly and as gently as he could, knowing she would not like what he had to say.

'So you feel compassion for the human.'

'Compassion? No – that's not –'

'Get your powers back and let him die. Tanusha, please. Or else the one who dies will be you.'

He turned to walk away, unable to see the look on his daughter's face, only to turn back. There was the slimmest chance he could give for them both to survive.

'You have until the full moon.'

And he was gone, Wayne moving with him. While Kayo called for them to wait she knew that they would not. With four more Hollows on the loose and Scott and herself incapacitated it would fall to them to sort this whole mess out.

Unnoticed by all of them, Conrad slipped away too. This was a turn of events even he had not foreseen, and he was not anywhere near strong enough to take on two such powerful Reapers.

It was evening by the time Kayo had helped Scott back up onto the roof and his body. He was in a bad way and she knew that she needed to heal him first. She lay him down beside his human self.

'If we don't heal your wounds now, before you return to your human body, you will surely die, both body and soul.'

Opening a small bottle she proceeded to pour the liquid out onto his throat and chest, using it to wash away the blood. Scott grimaced in pain as the liquid went to work, coupled with Kayo's ministrations it felt like he was on fire. But then…he could breathe again, even if he felt as week as a new-born kitten.

'What will we do? Kayo…'

But he couldn't say anymore. The pain, the fighting and the emotional turmoil of everything finally overcame him and he closed his eyes.

He dreamt of his mother.

She was in her beautiful white coat with the black piping, holding a light green gingham umbrella and kneeling before him. Her smile lit up the dreary wet day. And then she laughed and Scott's heart swelled.

'Ok. All better.'

He was dressed in his bright yellow raincoat and boots with a blue umbrella. He'd just been soaked by a passing car.

'Why don't you walk on this side?'

'No. On this side so I can protect you.'

She laughed again.

'My hero!'

Scott blushed and reached out tentatively. He was seven, he didn't need to hold his Mom's hand like Gordon and Alan did. And it was nice to get some time alone with his Mom. Not that he begrudged his brothers, far from it, but sometimes he wanted to be the one to hold her hand, to feel that security.

'Do you think it would be alright to hold your hand?'

'I was hoping you'd ask!'

They walked hand in hand across the bridge. Only – Scott stopped halfway. There – by the waterfront, was a girl in a pale whitish coat. She had short black hair and was soaking wet.

She turned to look at Scott and all he heard was the scream of his Mom, calling his name. Her voice was full of fear.

'Scott!'

When he came to he was lying on the ground by the waterfront. His Mom was lying beside him on her side, one arm draped over him. The rain was heavier.

'M-Mom?'

He turned to face her but she wasn't moving.

'Mom? Mom!'

But the two bloody gashes across her back told him she'd not answer him. Not now, not ever again.

When Scott awoke he was at home, in bed. His father was asleep in the chair beside him, and his chest and throat had been bandaged.