"There. You're good for now." Her voice sounded unsure. Misty withdrew her hands, but her gaze lingered. She kept staring at the spot on Fiona's stomach she had just released her hands from, as if it spoke Russian profanities to her. Her forehead creased and Fiona had about had it with the mystery.

"What is wrong with your face?"

She hesitated, eyes narrowed as they stared at Fiona's skin. "There's somethin' in there I can't reach. Somethin' new. It's gettin' worse." Misty finally looked up and her eyes were serious. There was no pity in her gaze and only a minimum of compassion. All the filters she used to cushion Cordelia from worry were nowhere in sight, when it was just the two of them. Misty never felt the need to go easy on Fiona. It wasn't a courtesy, as much as it was plain dislike, Fiona knew that, but she appreciated it anyway. She would rather know sooner than later. Whatever demon disease it was she had to fight this time, at least she knew it was there. And she had some idea of its origin as well.

"My guess is this is what they call alcoholic liver disease", she said with airy indifference. "I hear that happens. I hoped you could get rid of that too, but sounds like my luck is up."

It wasn't worry in Misty's eyes, but something close. Well concealed behind her disapproval. "But you don't drink no more, do you? You quit, didn't you?"

"I find your concern touching", Fiona snapped. "Same time next week?"

"I don't think I can help you for much longer if that thing gets worse." She stared at Fiona's stomach as if it was mocking her.

Fiona waved her off. "Stop staring at me like that. You worry about what you can fix, alright kid?"

Misty reluctantly nodded and Fiona turned around to leave the room, which used to be Misty's old bedroom, but had now become hers – the reversal of their positions had a sort of bitter taste, Fiona could never quite ignore – when Misty said:

"You didn't answer my question."

Fiona scoffed. "Persistent, are we? Are you going to stop healing me if I say yes?" Misty gave her an annoyed glance and Fiona felt like lighting a cigarette. But she reigned herself in.

"Just answer."

"No. There's no drinking." She let the lie settle for a few seconds to make sure Misty bought it and then left. It wasn't a big lie, which was what made it convincing. She hadn't really slipped, only taken a sip once in a while, if the stress boiled over. And Cometh always watched over her, got her back on track. Hardly a problem and hardly of any concern to the witch who stood before her like a superior, sleeping in Fiona's old bed, acting like she was now head of the house.

They would never be.

Despite herself, Fiona went to the doctor. Misty might be magical, and she might have some intimate knowledge of disease that no one, no matter how hard and long they studied, would ever achieve, but she was no scientist. She wasn't an x-ray machine. And Fiona needed one of those to figure out for sure what she was fighting this time.

She wasn't nervous when she had the tests taken, nor when she waited for the result. She made sure Misty thought she was so uninvolved in whatever couldn't be cured, she wouldn't ask about it. And hopefully she said nothing to Cordelia. Fiona counted that she wouldn't. Cordelia seemed frailer these days, darker of mind and she didn't sleep well. There was an unspoken agreement between Misty and Fiona that neither would give her more excuses to worry, if they could get around it. Misty hated it, that much was obvious, but her urge to be honest with Cordelia was often overpowered by her wish to protect her. Fiona had never struggled much with honesty, but she understood protection well.

When the day came and she sat in front of the doctor, she wasn't nervous either. She was sceptic above all, not about the diagnosis he was about to make – and she could see it in his eyes that it was coming – but about the whole education system. Who allows for doctors to be that young? Surely civilization was evolved enough now at the end of the 20th century to end child labor in developed countries. The boy in front of her barely grown a beard and there he sat, ready to hand her a death sentence. At least the doctor who diagnosed her with cancer was old enough to be able to dust off his diploma.

Now the man-child's face, no doubt as smooth as Cage's behind, creased with worry and he announced that he had bad news.

"Spit it out, kid. Don't waver like that."

"I'm afraid it is cirrhosis, ma'am." He paused for a minute as if allowing her to take it in. Fiona stared right back, only annoyed with the silence.

"So? Do you expect me to come up with a treatment plan or are you going to make some suggestions?"

His eyes widened a little, but he collected himself fast. Shame, Fiona thought. She would have enjoyed watching him squirm in his seat.

"Well your condition is quite progressed, if I'm being honest-"

"I damn well hope you are."

"Of course, ma'am. My point is that at this point, the only option left is putting you on the list for a liver transplant."

So, she was really dying now. And she was outside Misty's help. Fiona sighed, took in the realization. There was a finality about the notion, heavy, but steady. She could take it without dissolving in despair, which she thought perhaps she would have only a few years ago. Now… Well, it was bound to get there someday, she thought. She had let Misty cheat her death for years already, but as the swamp witch always said; nature wins in the end. Papa Legba would get her at last; life had finally grown weary of having her around and was giving up on her, despite all the help.

"Well do it then", she said.

He nodded and scrambled a bit with his papers. Fiona sat back and waited impatiently. The doctor looked up – almost reluctantly she thought – and said: "There are some, um, formalities. And we need to discuss a few things first."

"Such as?"

"First of all I need to know if you're sober?"

Fiona raised an eyebrow and shot him a piercing look. "Do I look drunk to you?" She asked, which made him shake his head quite insistently. It would have been hilarious, if the situation wasn't so grave.

"Of course not, ma'am, but given your history, we need to vouch for your sobriety before you go on the list. And we can perhaps discuss organ donation from a family member?"

Fiona shook her head. "No, there will be none of that."

"You should know that with the transplant list, it can take up to-"

"I said no. You write down whatever you need to write down and I'll be on my way. I have to pick up my grandson in half an hour." The child doctor opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him again. "And I will take care of the bill here, don't you dare have it sent to my house."

With that, Fiona got up and left the doctor's office.

O0O

Zoe sometimes forgot that Cage wasn't Misty's child, biologically speaking at least. He looked nothing like her, except for the blonde hair – which was more Cordelia's light blonde and not the golden one like Misty's anyway – but there was a little wildling inside him. Just in the short time Zoe had really known him, he got more secure on his feet and now he ran around the garden like an unstoppable bundle of energy. Nurture over nature it seemed, because she had only ever seen Misty run around with him like that. Cordelia was the responsible parent, the one who cooked and had him put to bed at the right time. She had even heard Misty join in on Cage's pleas to stay up once, which Cordelia did not find funny. The rest of them did.

It was a bright day, the perfect day for running around in the garden. Zoe wasn't supposed to babysit today, since Misty was home for the day, but she sometimes liked to come over here anyway. It had quickly become a second home. She wanted to make a third – or a new first more likely – with Kyle alone, but they hadn't settled on anything yet. He had sent her a text saying he had some big news for tonight, and there was a part of her that hoped he would show her some new apartment he had found. One where they could both live, as opposed to the tiny one he rented for himself in the most crowded part of New Orleans. He had taken the first chance he could to get out of his childhood home and it came with an all-night beat of music from the nearest pub. Zoe hoped he had found some nice, quiet space by the edge of the city. Just like this, only a place they could actually afford.

Child laughter interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to find that Misty had caught up to Cage and they had fallen to the ground together. Misty tickled him until he squealed and wiggled out of her grasp to run free again. She watched him run and have his attention drawn by butterflies in the air.

Moments later Misty got up and came to sit beside Zoe. There was dirt and grass stains on her dress, but she didn't seem to mind it at all. On the contrary, it suited her. It reminded Zoe more of the woman she had met in the swamp four years ago, a little more free of mind and perhaps a little less tame. Misty had confessed to her the restrictions she felt living here and while Zoe never thought of anything like that, the look of dirt on Misty's dress somehow made her realize how different Misty was.

"It's a nice day, ain't it?"

"Sure is", Zoe agreed. "Where did Cage go?"

Misty took a quick look around. "Over by the porch I think." She laid down on the grass and closed her eyes with a smile on her face.

"Shouldn't we get him?"

"Na, give him some space. He needs that sometimes. I made sure he can't get outta the garden." Cage's laughter rung from the other end of the garden as if to confirm her words.

"Do you think that Cordelia is too strict with him?" She asked, sensing this lay between the lines.

Misty shook her head and ruffled her hair into the grass in the process. "I didn't say that. But she scares easy. Boy gotta figure out the world on his own sometimes."

A question Zoe often hesitated to ask, tickled on her tongue again. Now seemed a good time. "Misty, can I ask you something?"

She opened her eyes, squinted at the sunlight. "Yeah?"

Zoe chewed her words for a moment, figuring out how to ask without sounding insensitive. Misty only looked curious, welcoming her words and she said: "I know you were… left in the woods as a kid, you know, in the swamps. I just always wondered, how did you survive that? I don't mean to pry, I'm just so amazed and I don't understand. I mean I would live for like a week out there in the swamp and that's now."

She shrugged in the grass. "I just did. I learned to read nature, learned to avoid the bears and foxes. I don't get sick in the winter or when I drink bad water. And I just took it one day at a time I guess."

"It's incredible, you know that right? You should be a legend or something."

Misty smiled and propped herself up on her elbows. She opened her mouth to speak, when something changed in her gaze, as if she picked up on a sound Zoe couldn't hear. She sat up straight and looked around. Her eyes went to the tree and they widened.

She was up and running towards it before Zoe even realized that Cage had decided to climb it. He had somehow gotten four feet up, but now his strength was lacking. His tiny feet and hands couldn't quite hold on and he slipped before Misty had a chance to catch him. With arms gasping desperately, he rushed down the tree and his body hit the ground, before she could throw herself under him. His scream pierced the air. Zoe scrambled to her feet and ran to them.

"Misty! Is he okay?" Cage's crying almost drowned out her words.

"Yeah…" Misty said, but she dragged. Only when Zoe got there did she see why; he had scratched his arm on the tree as he fell and a cut almost as long as his little forearm had burst open. Misty was busy picking out splinters and Cage cried as she did.

"Oh God, Misty we need to get him to the hospital. Oh poor little guy."

Misty didn't move immediately, but sat down and tried to shush the boy. He kept crying. Misty's eyes were fixated on the wound, her fingers carefully cleaning it.

"Misty, we-"

"No", she said. Her voice was firm, but not harsh. Zoe stopped in her track, confused.

"But…" She didn't say more, because something about Misty made her disconnect from her own thoughts. An aura of sorts had come over her. Her eyes were still zoned in on the boy's arm with remarkable concentration, taking the boy's screaming into consideration, and it was as if the world had ceased to exist around her. Zoe doubted if Misty had even heard her speak. Misty held Cage close with one hand and the other she put over his arm now, covering the injury.

Cage stopped crying at once. He sniffled a bit, but no other sound came over his lips. He looked up at his mother with wonder, but not shock. Not like the shock in Zoe's face, when Misty moved her hand and revealed perfectly fine, intact skin.

Zoe's otherwise firm understanding of the world and its metaphysics snapped out of place as her brain tried to comprehend what her eyes were telling it. She stared at Cage's arm, waiting for the wound to reappear when he turned it, but there was nothing. It was as if the past two minutes hadn't happened.

"How did- w-what? Did you just…"

Cage cuddled into Misty's embrace and Misty looked up. She waited calmly for Zoe to stop stammering, before she said: "You can keep a secret right? You can tell Kyle, if you trust him, but no one else, okay?"

"Wh- yeah, sure."

"Good. You got time for a story?"

Zoe dumped into the grass beside Misty and nodded, sensing this would be quite a one. Her mind felt empty yet too stuffed at the same time. Then Misty began to explain.

Zoe went home that night, her head full of things she didn't think possible of this world. She went home a little bit wiser on Misty's survival and that incident none of them wanted to talk about, but also with the feeling that she knew nothing of the world she lived in. Actual magic. Healing, revival. She was so preoccupied she completely forgot about Kyle and his big news. When he came over to her parent's house that night, she blurted out her own news at once. She told it in a whisper so her parents wouldn't hear in case they decided to pass the door just then.

"… But you can't tell anyone. I promised Misty I would keep this between us."

Kyle had sat down and he looked like someone who had just drunken a large beer too fast. His voice sounded dazed when he said: "I doubt anyone would believe me."

"You have to promise me Kyle!"

"Hey, hey I promise, okay?" He took her hands in his and squeezed them gently. He had large hands and the way her tiny ones disappeared in his grasp made her feel slightly more relaxed. As if she knew he could keep her safe and in extend keep their secret. She planted a kiss on top of his hand.

"Thanks."

"So magic, huh? That's something. It kinda took the gust out of what I was about to say, but that's that. Not everyday you find out your employer's girlfriend's a witch, am I right?" He winked at her.

Then it hit her. "Right, tell me your news! I'm sorry, I was just so overwhelmed, yeah, like you say. But what's the news?" She looked at his face, hoping to find a lopsided smile and see him pull out an add from his apartment search. Instead, his gaze turned insecure for just a moment. This was rare for him and Zoe's heart began to work up a hint of anxiety.

"Well it's not a thing as much as it's a thought. But I want to go to New York. I want to go to law school or something like that. Get away from here, you know. Start fresh. And I really want to see the big cities, just like you have." Zoe sat back, unsure of what to say. She didn't want him to see how her dream crashed inside her, shot down by a wish she couldn't possibly deny him. But he saw it anyway. "Zoe, say something please."

She fought to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but even so it came out too thin to fool him. "I can't say you shouldn't go. You know that. But I thought we would live here?"

The light that had appeared in his eyes before, as he talked, fell. "Zoe, you know I never wanted to stay. Not here, where my mom lives. I gotta get away. And I want you with me."

"A-and I want to be with you, but my mom and dad are here. I missed them so much while I was away."

He sighed. All the cheerfulness from a minute before had ushered out of the room. "We don't have to decide anything right now. But I'm going at some point."

Zoe sniffled the tears away. Nodded. Kyle didn't say more, but pulled her close and they cuddled up in the bed together. He ran a hand through her long hair. Kissed her gently.

"We can handle long distance, if it comes to it. We've done it for the past three years already. And we'll do it again, when you go back to college sometime in the fall. Maybe I'll just be calling you from somewhere else."

Zoe knew she was being unfair, crying over this. She had done it, of course he would too. Only she didn't want to escape New Orleans. She had a good family to return to and she always would have. When Kyle finally left, it would be to run away.

O0O

After Cordelia had put Cage to sleep that night, Misty came up to her. They were alone tonight; Fiona was at Cometh's and whenever she was that, Spalding withdrew to whatever creek of shade he hid in. The house was quiet.

Misty had a serious look in her eyes, when she sat down on the couch beside Cordelia. She took her hand, kissed in and put it in her lap.

"I gotta tell you 'bout somethin' that happened today and I wanted to wait until you had spent the day with Cage so you could see that he's fine."

"What happened?" Cordelia asked, already worried despite Misty's obvious effort not to make it so.

"Cage climbed one of the trees in the garden and fell down. He cut his arm pretty deep-" Cordelia's mind instantly went into a sickening spiral at the thought of Cage being hurt, not unlike those dreams that tormented her. She desperately wanted to think back, visualize his arm and search for damage, but she was able to take comfort in knowing that he had been fine all afternoon. Misty had made sure of that. "-and I healed him. So he's fine."

"He seemed that way, yes. Thank God you were there, love, but why do you sound like I'm about to get mad at you?"

She swallowed once and said: "Because Zoe was there too. She saw and I told her everythin'. I imagine she's told Kyle, but she promised to keep it between them."

Cordelia said nothing at first, her mind working its way towards a response she could justify. Worked a line between the worry and the anger. A slow sort of panic emerged, mixing with the ghost of the words her auntie Myrtle had once spoken, her warning that Misty should not show her abilities to anyone. She withdrew her hand from Misty's grasp and Misty's face fell.

"What if she tells someone anyway? Misty someone could hurt you! We're already vulnerable because half the town thinks we're crazy, both of us. You think I'm the only one they talk about at work?"

"I trust Zoe and I don't care what people say", Misty argued with calm.

"Well maybe you should!" Her voice raised with her fright and the change of tone changed the light in Misty's eyes. Cordelia saw it, but continued anyway: "You can't be this careless anymore, not in this life. The things that worked in the swamp doesn't work here."

"But I don't wanna be here!" It came out of nowhere. Rather, it wasn't exactly nowhere, because Cordelia knew Misty wasn't satisfied with living her life outside the forest, but the drastic turn it made in their discussion left her stunned. Misty got up, too agitated to sit. "I can deal with this house, but I never wanted this role. I don't fit into this life. I ain't your new Hank, Delia!" The words were barely above conversation level, but they hit her just like if Misty had shouted them. Cordelia recoiled and stared at Misty's suddenly angry face.

"Why would you say that?" She said with a whisper. She felt the tears sting in her eyes and the whispers at her ear. Too good for her, they said. Misty was too good for her, and she was her own. It was one of the things Cordelia loved most about her and now it tore a cliff between them. "I would never want you to be."

"Then stop tryna change us into what you had."

Cordelia stood up too, but with less stamina. "I don't want you to change. But I want you to acknowledge that I can't provide for this family by myself and I need you."

The flashing of Misty's hard eyes faded. "I'm tryin', but…" She sighed and walked closer. Took Cordelia's hand again and studied it while she gathered her words. Then she looked up again and her gaze softened. "You're going cold on me. I need you to act like you need me and not only the money I make." The look in her eyes tore at Cordelia's chest, made it tighten with regret.

"Oh Misty, I'm sorry. It has nothing to do with you, I'm just…" She trailed off. She didn't know what to say, or how to excuse that she took all her mental chaos out on Misty. Or that she in an attempt to shield herself shut the whole world out. Even the part of it that was weaved so thoroughly into hers as Misty was. It felt like she was shutting out a piece of herself too. For most of her years, she thought that was just who she was, this dull grey shade of a person, but having been with Misty for four years had showed her she was more. Now she knew that she was only half herself these days. And the ground had begun to crumble because of it.

Misty's hands came up to cup Cordelia's face. Cordelia didn't want the eye contact at first but Misty had a patient soul. When they met, her eyes were full of worry.

"Darlin', are you okay?"

Cordelia sighed and said honestly: "I don't know."

"Do you hear them?"

"They never quite go away anymore."

Her psychiatrist had taught her how to deal with them, the voices, the whispers. How to live with them, push them to the back of her mind until they faded into oblivion. Or to act on whatever stressor that had triggered them. She knew that when they said things to her, commented her every action it was only her own feelings amplified and she could use them as guidelines. And she knew that when they started to talk about her, she needed to find Misty. Only when wrapped in her arms, listening to her soft voice singing, could Cordelia calm herself and resist the urge to scratch her temples to blood. Sometimes being with Cage also helped. He seemed to sense when she was in need of distraction. Tonight there was only vague whispers, called to by the fearful thought of having Misty exposed to the hostile environment that was Cordelia's everyday life.

She wrapped her arms around Misty's waist and buried her face in her shoulder. Misty kissed her hair.

"I know what I'm doing, Delia. They're my abilities and I ain't apologizin' for who I trust them with."

"You shouldn't. I just got scared at the prospect of someone else treating you like Delphine or your family did."

Misty tightened her embrace, drew small circles of comfort on Cordelia's upper back. Her voice was a warm murmur in Cordelia's ear. "Figured you would. But we're okay."

"I love you." Cordelia mumbled it into Misty's shoulder, but she knew she heard. The voices wouldn't let her hear the reply, but it floated in the air, in the hum of Misty's voice, waiting for Cordelia to accept it yet again.

O0O

Hank watched the smoke rise, the last of it curling in the air, bent by the wind. It felt like such a fitting metaphor for his life and he had to laugh at it. In reality his life had gone up in smoke a long time ago, but only now had higher forces taken the time to remind him. If there were such. It's hard to come back from the deep dark dead and still believe there is a god. He didn't believe in anything anymore. He didn't feel much either. He had for a while with Kaylee, but that paper filter between him and the world never went away. It was difficult to experience anything as strongly as he used to.

But at least it had cured him of his alcohol addiction. He had spent two years attending group meetings, maybe stayed a little longer because of Kaylee. They had helped each other out of their bad habits. He had thought he helped her kick her addiction to lighting matches, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe she was too crazy to break the habit.

Apparently this was all there was in store for him. Crazy.

It made him think of Cordelia. He never considered her crazy, not until the very last hour, when she asked him to leave with the argument that she was going to lose her shit and never recover. It bothered him that he let her drive him off. This was one of the few things that still got under his skin. He could look back at the whole thing and see clearly now, with the haze of rage gone. He couldn't stand it then, the thought of this amazon alligator-tamer stealing his place in the world. But Cordelia really loved that amazon, so much she would lose her mind over that loss. He understood that only through the filter death had granted him.

Logical thought had Hank believe Misty was most likely dead by now, but logically speaking he should be too. So he had doubts, yet he always recalled the feeling of Misty's cold, light body as he carried her back to the mansion that night. There was no life left in that body. He knew it, Spalding knew it and Fiona knew it the moment she saw her. Cordelia wanted to hope, but she knew it too. That's why she sent him away. He saw all this with a calm sense of logic and it left him one question: How was Cordelia now? Was she admitted to some mental facility again? Was she at home, a lifeless shadow like he remembered she was back when her aunt died? Now that his thoughts were clear and his ties to this city were broken, he began to wonder. If there was still a scrap of Cordelia left in his ex-wife, maybe he ought to reconnect with her. His sponsor sure thought he should have done that a year ago, make amends or whatever they called that step of the program.

Maybe he should take the advice. There was nothing for him here anyway. He couldn't go back to Boston, because he might run into his father. As far as Harrison Foxx knew, Hank died in that car crash and was buried in the cemetery at the outskirts of New Orleans. Hank had called him up once or twice, just to hear his voice, but always disconnected without a word. This was all the interaction with his old ties he had left; pseudo attempts at phone conversations with his dad. He enjoyed freedom but he missed the sense of belonging somewhere. To someone. Like normal people, who hadn't been dead and buried did. And now he had no home yet again.

Hank stood in the ashes of his burnt down apartment and began to think that it might just be the perfect time to pay New Orleans a visit.

A/N: You didn't think I was going to let Hank sit this one out, did you?