Gah, so many reviews! T.T Okay, first: thanks for all the congrats! ^^

Second: I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN NEARLY TWO MONTHS! I AM NOT WORTHY! X_X, ok, sorry. My computer crapped out on me and I had to save up to buy a new one, then I was suffering from writer's block (STILL), so sorry if this chapter just...sucks T.T

His shadow wrapped tightly around her as they pulled her struggling body into his. He hugged her close, bowing his head until his mask touched her ear. He whispered incoherently in her ear until he felt her body go limp. She was breathing hard, the warm puffs leaving her mouth hitting his chest. His shadow slowly fell from her and he felt her lift her arms up. Death was partially prepared for her to just pierce his body and tensed, but she only gripped the back of his cloak and let out a loud sob. The madness wavelengths leveled themselves out, he noticed with relief, as the air in the room became noticeably lighter. Spirit reverted back to his human form, shuffling over to Marie to look at Kid.

"I-I...!" Ophelia whimpered, burying her face in his cloak. He held her up, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It isn't your fault, Ophelia." It's mine. The missing part of his sentence hung heavily in the air. Marie shifted uncomfortably by the wall, holding the hiccuping baby. Ophelia looked up at Death, her blue eyes filled with remorse and tears.

"I hurt our son!"

He sighed heavily, his head beginning to pound.

"I didn't mean anything I said! I love Kid! I could never hate him! You have to believe me, Death!" There was a shiver of madness once more as she began to plead, causing both weapons to tense. Her grip tightened on his cloak and she buried her face back in his chest. Spirit planted himself in front of Marie and Kid protectively.

"Please, love, calm down. There is no need to get yourself worked up. I know you didn't mean anything you said." Her body shuddered.

Death looked up over Ophelia's head to Marie. He gestured to her. Her eyes lit up with realization and she handed Kid over to Spirit.

"Ophelia, if you can still hear me, nod your head." He murmured softly.

There was a brief pause, then a small nod. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back from his cloak. Her eyes were diffident as they stared up at his mask. "Marie is going to heal you. Is it alright if she touches you?"

Ophelia hesitated, looking like she might yank herself from his grip. He tightened his grasp momentarily before pressing, "You trust me, don't you?"

She nodded immediately. He turned her around so her back was against his chest. Marie came over, smiling calmly at his wife.

"It's alright, Mrs. Ophelia; it won't hurt at all." Marie outstretched her hand, which began to glow a warm, golden color. Ophelia stiffened as Marie made contact with her chest before her body sagged. Her head fell back against Death's shoulder, her eyes closed. Marie dropped her hand, the glow leaving it.

"She should be okay; my wavelength just made her a little drowsy. I don't sense anymore madness coming from her."

Death nodded gratefully at her, picking up Ophelia's unconscious body. "Thank you very much, Marie. Spirit, if you could put Kiddo back in his crib?"

Spirit obeyed, cooing at Kid, the baby laughing. He straightened up, noticing Death's presence was no longer in the room. Marie looked at him before looking away again.

"I should go find Stein; he might need me to soothe his wavelengths after being around Mrs. Ophelia." She quietly dismissed herself.

Spirit closed Kid's door behind him as he went to find his meister. He passed Death's bedroom doorway and paused. Death was carefully tucking Ophelia into bed. He pushed her hair out of her face, bending low to murmur something inaudible to her. She breathed deeply, rolling onto her side. Death straightened up and silently watched her.

For a moment, Spirit wished he could see his meister's face to truly discern what he was feeling. His body language only partly conveyed his duress. His mask was crinkled with worry and Spirit could imagine his teeth nibbling at his lip as he contemplated his options. His tall body, usually held up so proudly and confidently, was stooped over as though it had aged within the minutes of dealing with his wife's madness.

Spirit fretfully wondered just how much time Ophelia had left before she was unable to revert back to normal. He didn't think he or Death could handle being the ones to end her miserable existence.

"Death Scythe." He flinched at the sound of his name coming from the death god. It was not the voice he was familiar with; it was the harsh, gravelly one. It was not as fierce as it could have been, though; it was weary.

"Yes, sir?"

"You may leave. I have things I must do." Death turned his attention back to Ophelia, who had muttered something in her sleep.

Spirit wanted to object; it was his duty to stand by Lord Death as his weapon, after all. However, Death's tone left no room for argument, so he softly bade him a good day and left Gallows Manor.

Once he was alone, Death removed his mask, and knelt beside Ophelia. He buried his face in his hands, his fingers gripping his jet colored tresses. He bit his lip until he tasted blood, feeling the unmistakable welling of tears building up.

"How can I call myself your husband when I can't even do anything to save you?" He growled at himself. He pulled on his hair, frustrated with his own uselessness. His wife was dying from madness and all he could do was stand and watch. He couldn't bear to think of the other option and there was no way he'd let someone else do it for him. There had to be another way to save her.

Eibon. The thought struck him as he released his hair and looked up. He hadn't seen his old friend since he rooted his own soul to Death City. He didn't even know if he was still alive, the only update he received being a couple hundred years ago when Miata last visited.

"I could always send one of my Death Scythes to find him." He thought aloud before dismissing the idea. He didn't need to trouble his weapons with a possible wild goose chase.

Of course, Eibon had this way about him where he seemed to just know when someone needed him. If the wizard was still alive, Death had no doubt he would be seeing him in a few days. In the mean time, he would just have to hope Marie's healing soul wavelength was enough to stave off Ophelia's madness.

He stood back up and glided out of the room to go to Kid's. Kid was sleeping soundly in his crib, his thumb in his mouth. He was only wearing his diaper and Death had a swift, sickening feeling of fury when he saw the purple bruises blossoming on Kid's delicate skin. He was filled with a desire to hurt Ophelia for what she did to their son. That cerebration sobered him up, though he was visibly shaken by the dark consideration.

"The madness wavelength must have affected me as well." He mumbled, taking a seat in the rocking chair beside Kid's crib.

The thought didn't leave him. He could almost feel his hand around Ophelia's fragile neck, he heard the snap of her bone and the sound of he lifeless body slumping to the ground.

"Stop it!" He hissed, gripping his head.

Some part of him, the part that has lain dormant for nearly eight hundred years, had awakened from the madness. And it wanted compensation for the harm brought upon its successor.