"Go away, Tate," Lola warned as she hopped to her feet. "I don't want to see you right now."

"Don't tell me what to do," Tate fumed. He grabbed Lola's arms roughly.

Aaron protested from the ground, "Let go of her!"

Lola looked back at her brothers and shook her head, "I can handle this."

"There is nothing to handle. You went against me."

"For good reason!" Lola snapped. "You've been attacking my brothers. RJ is going to die if he doesn't get medical attention."

"Good!" Tate hissed.

Lola had had enough. Her hand curled into a fist. Her blow collided with Tate's jawline, knocking him to the ground. Satisfied with her punch, she turned and drop to her knees with the intentions of trying to get RJ and Aaron to their feet. She was going to get them help. There had to be a way.

"Lo!" RJ yelled in warning.

She was jerked from behind and thrown across the room. She crashed into a furnace. Her head cracked against the metal. The noise echoed for a second before RJ and Aaron's weak screams cluttered the room. Tate briefly looked at the motionless girl. He could deal with her later. First he had to get rid of her bothersome brothers.

When he cocked his head back to the two, they were struggling to rise to their feet. They were going to defend their family or die trying. Tate was going to make sure they died trying.

"I almost feel bad about this," He laughed. "It's such an unfair fight."

He knocked Aaron back into RJ. The two went stumbling to the ground. Tate waved his hand and a blade appeared. He took a few steps. Hovering over the two brothers, he stared down at their fearful faces. They were drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Then again, I've never really been into fair fights," Tate grinned.

He fell to the ground, cocking his head at the brothers. RJ lifted a hand. His fingers curled limply as he tried to make a fist. Tate effortlessly knocked the hand back down. He swiftly dug the blade into RJ's stomach. He lurched forward a few inches. Blood squirted out of his mouth. It bubbled on his chin, and then fell in globes on his neck. Aaron's eyes fluttered to the side for a brief second before closing. Tate could tell he was seconds away from death. Still, he pulled the knife of RJ's abdomen and buried it into Aaron's. He pulled the blade up and down Aaron's stomach, carving until there was nothing left but a heap of organs that spilt over onto the ground.

A few seconds passed before two translucent figures danced above the dead bodies. The figures quickly turned into brightly colored orbs that danced through the ceiling. They moved on fast- faster than Tate had ever encountered. Maybe it was because they'd been on the verge on death for so long.

Tate looked longingly at the dark ceiling for a few long seconds before his attention turned to Lola. Shit! She was still in a heap on the ground by the boiler. Tate tossed the blade aside and ran over to her body. She wasn't breathing. Jesus, she wasn't breathing.

"If you're looking for a pulse, there isn't one. I checked- twice."

Lola was leaning… floating... Tate could see grimy wall through her body. He stared for who knows how long. Her body thickened until he could no longer tell if he hallucinated her as a ghost or if she was still alive.

"Why?"

Lola's voice cracked as she finally spoke. Tate bit his lip as he looked at her.

"What?" He questioned.

"Why? Just why? Why did you ruin what we had? Why did you do this to my brothers? Why did you do this to me? Why am I not doing that orb thing like RJ and Aaron did? Why did I just become all fleshy like you?"

Tate shrugged, at a loss for words, "I don't know. I'm not an expert."

"Really? You're a thousand years old, and you've seen like a thousand ghost orb things. Expert status, Tate."

She had just died, and she still had that spark that he loved.

"Stop smiling and give me answers," Lola begged, her face wavering. "Please?"

"I don't know," Tate said, honestly. "I never saw people become… people… when they died. Just me. What happened to you- it happened to me."

"I'm not evil," Lola cried, finally breaking.

Tate approached the quivering apparition. He tried to wrap his arms around her, but she screamed and threw him off of her.

"Don't you dare try and touch me!" She howled. "Jesus, Tate! Do you know what you've done? You've made me a monster. You've killed my family. You've killed me. Tate, are you not processing this?

"I am. I do."

"I don't think you do!" Lola cried. She pointed to the two mutilated bodies on the floor. "Look at that! Look what you did!

Tate glanced at the corpses then back at Lola. He reached out a hand as he said,

"I've explained to you that I can't control myself. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry?" Lola yelled. "I'm dead, Tate! DEAD! I know that means nothing coming from somebody who murdered his own mother, but it sure as hell means a lot to me. I am no longer alive. I am not breathing. This flesh- this flesh isn't real, Tate!"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Nothing!" She screamed. "Nothing!"

Lola didn't know how or if she could even get out of that room. She pictured herself back home, snuggled tight in her bed. Her mom was in the kitchen preparing her a nice bowl of her homemade chicken noodle soup to warm her up after a long trip at sea. She could feel the thick blanket on her skin. It warmed her from the inside out. She could see her mom in the doorway with a tray. From the bed she could smell the broth. The steam traveled up and danced around her mom's face.

It all rushed back. The room faded. The smell of the warm soup was replaced by the cold salt of the sea. She could feel the water on her skin, taste it in her mouth. Beneath her bare feet she felt the old wood from the deck of the ship. The crisp wind whipped her hair. She opened her eyes, and she was back on the ship.

"No, no, no!" She screamed, stomping her feet on the ground. "I was home! I was home, damnit!

"It brought you back," Tate said dryly.

He was leaning against the railing. He looked perfect, like he was meant to be there. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and free of blood stains. The black suspenders hugged his body, twisting as he moved. His face almost calmed Lola. Almost.

Her voice cracked as she tried to speak through her heaves, "Why? Did… it… I'm not… Evil? Right? Please... just… I'm not evil, Tate."

This time when he approached her, she didn't throw him off. She was broken. She just wanted someone to hold her.

"You're not evil, Lola. You're perfect."

"You said all the good souls left. You said you became a person, just like I did."

"I know. I didn't think before I spoke. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You shoulda thought about that before you… killed me."

"I didn't mean to."

"You keep saying that," Lola cried with a weak smile. "But I don't believe it."

"What will make you believe me?"

"I will never believe you. But it would help maybe a centimeter if you would just shut up and hold me."