Orange.

I got out of the Bentley, and hurried around to the other side to help Valkyrie. She was already half-way up the stairs, and I caught up with her quickly. "Nye said you should take it easy, remember?" She gave me a "look."

"Okay, first, I can't believe you just quoted Nye, and second, I think he was trying to tell me not to practice martial arts until the stitches are out." She was probably right, so I didn't say anything back. She shuffled around in her jacket for her key, holding it up triumphantly when she found it. She opened the doors and led me inside.

She looked around her house, clearly glad to be home. I could hear Echo-Gordon in the kitchen, talking to himself. I watched Valkyrie take off her coat. I could see it pulling at the stitches on her chest, and I wanted to help her, but didn't. Valkyrie didn't like being offered help, even when she needed it. She hung it up and started for the stairs.
She started to climb, and I knew that she was pushing herself on purpose, testing how mobile she was. I stayed behind her, nervous. She came onto the second floor, and began the next flight of stairs. Valkyrie's room was on the fourth floor. She wasn't seriously going to climb three flights of stairs with stitches across her chest, was she? I could see Valkyrie leaning against the railing slightly, and I wanted to offer my arm to help her up.

But she would probably just glare at me. So I watched as she began the last flight of stairs. My cell phone vibrated. I reached into my pocket to check it, and that was when Valkyrie fell. She put her foot in the wrong place, and slipped. She slammed into me, and I took my hand out of my pocket to steady her, but we were already falling. I pushed at the air, trying to cushion our landing.

We hit the stairs and rolled, the world blurring into a jumble of eyes, elbows, and legs. Then it was over, and I laid there, waiting for my vision to sharpen. I could hear Valkyrie trying to recover her breath, feel her chest against mine. As my vision focused, and her breathing became even, I suddenly became aware of her. Her legs were twisted around mine, her hands gripping my jacket tightly. My arms were around her, still trying to protect her from the fall.
She suddenly went still, and I inferred that she had come to the same awareness. Slowly, I unwrapped my arms. She let go of my jacket and untangled our legs. I got up first, and turned to look down at her. Her eyes were closed, cheeks faintly red. She made a slight move, as though to get up, and her face twisted in pain. She opened her eyes and held out a hand.

I grabbed it and pulled her up next to me. She stumbled, lacking my amazing sense of balance. I placed my hands on her shoulders, quietly assessing her stability. She slid a hand into her shirt, and when she pulled it out, her fingers were red. "Shit," she muttered, "I think I tore my stitches." The blood was soaking through her shirt, a wet darkness. I hated blood. It was inconvenient. It had ruined far too many suits to count.

Valkyrie turned towards the stairs again, and took a step towards them. She grimaced and put a hand to where the stitches must have split. I walked beside her and offered my arm. I expected to be pushed away, but after a moment of silence, she slipped her arm into mine, and I helped her up the stairs. She leaned on me as we made our way down the hall and into her room. I sat her on her bed, and then waited.

"I'm going to check the stitches. Turn around," she instructed. I did as I was told, and stared at the white walls of her room as though they were the most interesting painting I'd ever seen. I heard her sharp intake of breath as she pulled off her T-shirt. Fighting the urge to turn, I listened as she poked the cuts, muttering curses under her breath. There was a moment of silence. She wasn't moving, she was sitting still. I could feel her eyes on my back. "Skulduggery," she said finally. "I need your help. Will you stitch a couple parts back up?"

"What makes you think I know the first thing about stitching?" I asked without turning.

"You went through a war, didn't you?" She had a point. I had sewed up more than my fair share of friends. "I just don't want to go back to Nye," she continued. She sounded nervous, as though she thought I would refuse. I couldn't.

"Thread and needle?" I asked.

"I think I have a sewing kit on the top shelf of my wardrobe." I went to the mahogany cabinet and swung open the door. The floor-length mirror that used to hang on the inside was shattered. I averted my gaze from the sharp pieces still clinging to the frame, and reached for the box on the top shelf.

"Valkyrie, this thread is all orange," I said over my shoulder.

"I don't care. Hurry up, I'm bleeding on the carpet," she responded. I turned to face her. Two rows of stitches formed an X on her chest, and there was blood running from them, soaking into her bra and then dropping to the floor. She was blushing, which would have made me smile if I hadn't been eternally grinning.

She was a good-looking young woman, which I had been noticing for a while. She was, quite honestly, beautiful. And it wasn't only me who had noticed. People had been tripping over themselves to help her while we were investigating. And yet she still felt bad about her body, always pushing herself to work harder and eat less. And now she stood before me, her cheeks red, waiting.

I pulled my focus back to the cuts across her chest. I crossed the room to her. "Lie down," I told her, and she did. I reached into my pocket, and pulled out a leaf Nye had given me for her pain. Valkyrie popped into her mouth with enthusiasm. While I waited for the medicine to hit her nerve centers, I sat next to her on the bed and cut away the broken stitches. My gloves were getting blood on them, so I took them off. The thin bones of my fingers were more accurate when there wasn't fabric in the way.

When the bad stitches were out, I started to sew. The orange thread overlapped the black, giving the wounds a nightmare, Halloween look. Valkyrie looked down at herself and smiled faintly. "I look like a torn rag doll."
I left to get a cloth, and when I came back, she was trying to get up. I pushed her head back onto the pillow and washed off the blood, trying to be gentle around the new stitches. Once, one of my knuckles brushed her collarbone and she shivered. I kept my cold fingers away from her skin after that. When her skin was clean, I handed her the first shirt I could find, an orange tank-top with a black design around the bottom.

I helped her put it on so that she didn't use her arms too much. She was struggling to get up, so I slid my arm into hers and pulled her upright. Her skin was warm, too warm. I put a hand against her forehead. It was hot. She sighed as my cold bones touched her, leaning into my hand. Worried, I walked her over to the window and opened it, the wind blowing into the room, a cool spring breeze.

Valkyrie closed her eyes and tilted up her chin, opening her arms and letting the wind blow over her entire body. I left her there and went into her bathroom, pulling out the fever medication. I hesitated, unsure about combining regular medicines with Kenspeckle's herbal pain killers. In the end, I only brought her a glass of water. She drank it gratefully, then pointed to the window.

"Skulduggery, look at the sunset, it's beautiful! Can we go onto the roof and watch it? Please?" I followed her finger to the world outside. The sun was low in the sky, a powerful, burning orange. The clouds around it were tinged with the colour, contrasted against a purple-blue background of sky. When I turned, the light shone through the window, illuminating Valkyrie's eager smile.

How could she still look so young sometimes at nineteen? You couldn't say no to those eyes. I held out my arm, and she ran to join me by the window, wincing as her steps pulled at the new stitches. I stepped onto the sill and wrapped an arm around her waist. I've been trying to teach her flying ever since she reached the surge, but she can't seem to pick it up. She just doesn't have the patience for it.

She hung onto my shoulders, and I stepped off the landing. The air swept around us, lifting us upwards. I don't even have to use my hands anymore. We landed on the black-shingle roof of Gordon's home. Valkyrie climbed onto one of the peaks of the roof and dangled her feet off, facing west.

I sat beside her, and we watched the sun set together. The fiery orange of the sun slowly sank underneath the Earth, and shadows swept in to take the light's place. The sun was gone, but its light still turned the clouds a light orange shade. Valkyrie leaned her head against my shoulder bone, yawning.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?" I asked automatically. She moved her hands outwards, a gesture that encompassed the whole world.

"For everything you've done, all the times you've saved my life. I really don't know where I'd be without you." She got up, and walked to the edge of the roof. I followed her, and lowered us back to her bedroom. She leaned against the wall, and I went and got her a pill for her fever. She swallowed it dry, and then laid down on her bed, stretching out with a contented sigh.

"God, I'm tired. It must be that leaf-medication stuff." She yawned again, and I pulled the blankets over her. She settled her head against the pillow. "Good night, Skulduggery," she whispered.

"Good night," I replied, and turned off her light. I opened the window again, and prepared to step outside.

"Skulduggery?" Valkyrie said, and I paused, turning back. She was sitting up, her dark hair loose and tangled. "I love you. You know that, right?"

She's told me that once before, years ago. But back then, she was in pain, and confused, and I doubt she really knew what she was saying. It was rare that she let down her guard any more. She was always laughing, always pushing the serious things aside and making jokes. I suppose we were both like that.

"I know. I love you, too."

I don't think I've said that in centuries. It felt nice to say. I wonder who I last told that. Valkyrie is lying back down again. I can hear her breathing, slow and even. I wonder if she even heard me before she fell asleep. I turn back to the window, and step out. I turn around and close it, then let myself drop to the ground. I get into the Bentley, and begin the drive to the main road.

I have a gun to recover, and I still have to track down whoever hired that Necromancer. The sun is well and truly gone, and the orange has been replaced by the black night.

A/N: Hello again. I really have nothing new to add. Ticklethedragon1 is still amazing, I still would love for you to review, and I am still grateful for you reading my story.

Coming next-

Yellow: In which Skulduggery has an epiphany at the beach, which ends up being an unfortunate place to zone out.