Hank watched his son run around on the playground and tried to grasp the fact that it was his kid. He looked so much like Cordelia, Hank thought. There was barely any of him in the little boy's features. It was almost as if his biology had known Hank wasn't going to be around. Well he hoped to change that now. He hadn't expected to be given this reason to stay. He had imagined that in the event Cordelia wasn't half mad, she might agree to see him once in a while and a little part of him had hoped they could rebuild something from that. But this was completely different. This was actual biological proof that he still belonged here.

He watched Cordelia play with their child from a bench at a short distance and for a moment, he pushed the other woman out of his mind. He forgot that there was another at home, who Cordelia had chosen over him. Because this was right. This was what they had aimed for for at least three of their married years. How was it fair that they had it now, when they were no longer together? They should be. No one would doubt it.

He had heard the talk already. Cordelia had always been well liked at her job, but the tone had changed. They thought her weird now. Crazy lesbian he had heard someone call her. She couldn't possibly be content with that. With him, she wouldn't have to feel that. With him, everything would look like it should. He sighed, knowing it was a stupid thought he was engaging in. Even if he told her this, he knew what the answer was. She loved Misty. And he owed his life to that witch.

Cordelia looked up from the swing set and smiled. Hank smiled back.

Still, he wasn't completely shut out. She still had warmth towards him. He wasn't a stranger here, like he was in the rest of the town. No matter how much Fiona and Misty wanted him to be.

After a while, Cordelia came to join him on the bench. She did look much happier these days, only today there was a familiar shadow in her face.

"Everything okay?" He asked.

She smiled, one of those smiles meant to hide her feelings. He might be an idiot, but he wasn't completely oblivious to her tricks. "There's just a lot going on these days. It's a little difficult to keep on top of it."

"You mean I stirred things up by coming back?"

"Among other things, yes."

He reached out a hand and put it on top of hers. "I don't want to make things harder for you."

"Then don't", she said and withdrew her hand. She looked at him and that fragility, which he had somehow always missed when looking at Kaylee, shone in her eyes.

"You can't deny that there's still something here."

"Don't, Hank." Her eyes were hard now. Yet also conflicted, he thought. He wanted to say more, but Cage interrupted them. He ran to Cordelia first and her face changed, the hardness of her features fell away instantly and she looked happy again.

"I wanna play the chase game!" The little boy said. "Play with me?" He looked at them both then, challenging either of them to run after him.

"This is usually Misty's came. They play this all the time, when they're out", Cordelia explained. Misty's name hadn't been mentioned in a while, but now that it did, it found its way beyond the paper filter and Hank thought that she would not win today.

He put on a good game face and poked at the boy.

"I can do chasing", he said and got up. Cage squealed with laughter and started running. He was a trusting kid, inviting Hank to play like that after having only met him twice. Maybe he sensed that they were more than strangers to each other. Hank thought of this while running after him.

"Be careful, honey!" Cordelia yelled. Hank wanted it to be for them both, but when he looked back, Cordelia had only eyes for her son.

He chased his son – the notion of the thought still sounded so weird to him, but he could see himself in this role somehow – around for half an hour, before Cordelia announced that they should be getting back.

When Hank asked when he could see them both again, Cordelia answered: "I'll talk to Misty about it. And then we can meet up at your hotel room and try to lay down a schedule for a few weeks. See how it plays out."

"Am I not welcome at the house anymore?" He asked, but it was more a joke than an actual question. He had no desire for the company of the remaining inhabitants.

Cordelia didn't answer that, but said instead: "I'll give you a call."

Hank only nodded and took a second to look at her. It was all the intimacy he was allowed. Looking at her and pretend that his last shot hadn't been taken yet. Then he bent down and said goodbye to Cage, before they left the playground.

O0O

"You sure you're good, Mrs. Elba?" The old woman nodded and smiled, hugged the jar in her tiny arms. They were sunburnt and wrinkled by now, but they had a strong grasp. Her old body still had strength in it. Marie sometimes thought to ask some of the boys from the saloon to follow Mrs. Elba home, but she was tough. There was no need.

Mrs. Elba smiled. "I'm good, you made sure of that. My back's been such a bully these days, but your potions always help. Don't know about all those rumors, but you sure have a knack for somethin'."

Marie smiled back and felt guilty for hoping that was it. She didn't want to rush Mrs. Elba out, but she ached to get back to her room and try again. Every second spent out here was a second she was failing her boy.

Her old neighbor interrupted her thoughts. "You needa get outta this house, honey. Get some sun in that pretty face of yours. You lookin' pale."

"I have things to do, mama, makin' up potions and whatnot", she argued, but received a solemn smile in return and felt the air change. Damn, here it comes, she thought.

"Your sister fixin' up my hair, you fixin' my back. You're a good pair of girls, you two. Shame what happened." There it was. She hadn't seen many people since it happened and those of the neighborhood divided into two groups of people; those who drowned her in condolences and those who, out of fear or respect, chose to act like nothing had happened. She might have been hurt if this particular woman, who had been a part of Marie's life for as long as she could remember, had belonged to the second group, but now she wished for silence. The talk hurt too much and it made her too angry.

She thought maybe Mrs. Elba saw it, because she went on: "You know I lost my boy three years ago. Now I know that ain't the same, because it was the slippery roads that took him, but same goes: There's no pain like that loss. Lord knows I ain't here to tell you different."

"So what are you here to tell me?" She bit herself for talking with such disrespect, but it was out before she could stop it. The rage seemed so close to the surface these days that it took all she had not to lash out. Maybe that was why Chantal and her crew had held back on their wandering through the house. It was so much quieter these days.

Mrs. Elba tugged the jar onto her right hip and placed her free hand on Marie's arm. "God is cruel sometimes", she said. "The world needs balance. God is cruel so we don't have to be. You remember that, Marie."

"I can't make promises, mama." She received a strict glance in return for that.

"I know you, girl. I know you want a war with Fiona Goode. You have ever since that horrible woman, who worked for you, came back. But she gone now. And they're dangerous, those arrogant people like Fiona Goode. You watch out for that woman."

The mention of Delphine's name only fueled the fire under her skin. She knew from her spies that Delphine was dead now, even if she didn't know how. Still, it did nothing to ease her repulsion towards anything of her past that Delphine had touched. She was about to comment on it, more harsh words she didn't know how to stop, when something else caught her attention. Out the corner of her eye, Marie saw Chinwee walking up to the house. She knew he brought information and she remembered she didn't have to be so angry, because revenge was set in motion already.

She took Mrs. Elba's hand, ready to send her away as respectfully as possible. She gave the old woman a smile, one as real as she could muster and said: "I think she best watch out for me. Be on your way now please."

She nodded. "All right. You be good. I'll see you when I run out." She tapped the jar and then turned away. She wasn't a fast walker, but she was steady. Marie hoped for strength like that. She needed it.

When she was out of sight, Chinwee approached. He was a boy of the house, had lived there with them for years and he used to play with Damian, keep him busy while Marie attended business. He shared the pain of the loss. He hadn't been driven out yet, like most of the others, by Marie's rage and the smell of death within the house and now he was her most trusted spy. She had sent him out to keep tabs on the young girl's boyfriend, after she woke him. He was a mess from the very first blink of his second life and she needed to learn from it. She needed a calm resurrection for her boy, but this one was a weapon.

Chinwee followed her in, to the privacy of her garden. This too was quiet, as the rest kept on the other side. Marie had learned to enjoy the space, enjoy the place of an outsider, now that she suddenly was one. Her sister was the only one who wasn't yet alienated by her obsession with revenge. It was fine. Marie didn't need friends, she only needed her boy back. And she would succeed soon enough.

When they found a spot to sit down, hugged by cool shadow, Chinwee said: "I have news about that Goode girl Misty."

Marie nodded. "Tell me. She find the boyfriend?"

He nodded and made a disgusted grimace. "I followed him to his home, saw him kill his own mama. Then Misty-girl shows up with the other one and they find him. And Misty-girl did somethin' to him, touched him and then he almost fell asleep. But like a sleep of dead. He still alive, but I saw it happen and I thought to myself, she has powers like you. Only they opposite or somethin'. I checked again when the girl took him home and he much calmer now. She got voodoo like you, Marie."

"Ain't nobody got voodoo like me", Marie answered. "But she sure is some kind of witch. Thanks Chinwee. Keep an eye on the boyfriend for me. And be careful around him, he ain't tame yet!"

He nodded, got up and headed back the way he came. Marie watched him go around the corner, probably to take a seat with the family on the other side of the building, while she chewed the news. She knew Misty's story well enough by now to know the witch of the gators hadn't been in contact with Papa Legba. Because her love was still alive. This was something else, something on the other end of the spectrum. It appeared Marie had acquired herself a worthy enemy. And this one would soon regret she had ever associated with the Goodes.

O0O

Zoe didn't enjoy her time off school much. When she came in for substitute classes, she felt like a robot, mechanic in her presence. She could barely remember what she taught the kids, let alone enjoy it. And instead of appreciating the dearly missed warmth and sun from a nice spot on the porch, she sat indoors with Kyle, trying to teach him the words and sentences that had fallen from his mind during his brief death. He was even harder to teach than the kids, whose faces she couldn't remember. She wasn't entirely sure if he wasn't still dead, yet he breathed in a way. So he must be alive, she thought. When she looked at him and caught his eyes, felt him stare back with recognition and a smile somewhere in his features, she knew he was alive. The rest of the time she wasn't so sure.

He was still piled in the corner. He came up to her bed when she was sleepy or when she told him to lie down and fool her parents into thinking he was sick. They were annoyed that he might risk infecting her as well, but they didn't object, because they knew just a fraction of Kyle's malignant relationship with his mother. It wasn't the first time he had stayed over for weeks at a time.

Her parents were at work and Misty had promised to come by today before work. Zoe waited anxiously for her to come, while watching Kyle play with little kid's toys and fling kid's books around, trying to read them. He lost patience so quickly. She used to have to tell him to keep studying and stop distracting her, but it was all nothing compared to now. It was like a five year old version of himself was trapped in his pale, mangled body.

"Kyle, here, try this one." She stopped him from hurling the next book across the room and put the headphones on him instead. The headphones were connected to a Walkman, playing simple books that he could repeat.

Kyle grunted and poked at the Walkman.

"Try repeating the words, Kyle."

He did, slowly and rasping. His voice sounded like a deep, dragging, broken bass the way he chewed at the words as they came out. "The… li-ttle bo-y… sa-id-…"

"Good Kyle. That's good", Zoe said and swallowed the lump in her throat. He grew agitated when he heard her voice shake.

Kyle looked up, lifted his finger and pointed towards Zoe.

He started with a low hiss and then slowly came the word: "Zzz… Zo-e."

Zoe smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that's me." She didn't get to say more before there was knocking on the door. Kyle started yelping like a frightened dog and Zoe shushed him gently, ran a hand through his hair until he calmed.

"That's good. I'll be right back, okay?"

He nodded. "K-ay."

She went to the door and let Misty in. Her clear blue eyes were hard and her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something horrendous.

"What is it?" Zoe asked.

"Still smells like death in here", she said.

Zoe sniffed the air. "I don't smell it. I got Kyle to shower just this morning, I-"

Misty shook her head. "Not that. It's the air. It's 'cause of what Laveau did to him." She winced again and looked towards the hall, which led to Zoe's room. "Can I see him?"

At first, Zoe hesitated. She had agreed to let Misty help, and she wanted her to – because she knew that no one else could, not now – but suddenly she halted, remembering what had happened to him last time.

"Last time, that thing you did… If you're going to hurt him…"

Misty shook her head again. "I ain't tryna hurt him. Just figure out what's wrong with him. I got no books to learn from, only my hands. Let me?" She could never argue with Misty. She had probably thrice the education Misty would ever have already, yet Misty sounded wise in a way Zoe knew she would never achieve. She only nodded and showed Misty the way.

As both of them entered the bedroom, Kyle's expression changed. Zoe would have thought him scared, thought he would yelp and whine, like he did whenever she tried to leave him, and curl up in the corner. Instead a low, threatening growl rolled up from his throat and he moved slowly into a crouching position, as if getting ready for attack.

"Kyle…" Zoe started with a quivering voice, but Misty shushed her. At that sound, Kyle snarled and stared at Misty with eyes that were suddenly much darker. Dark to Misty's light blue. A thought entered Zoe's mind, one that said she was witnessing the meeting of two opposing forces. She could feel it in the air too now, sense it like the spark of electricity. It made her hairs stand up on her arms and neck. Misty didn't stray from her position, not even when Kyle opened his mouth to roar. It wasn't the roar of the bear that had killed him; the sound was far weaker, made by weaker vocal cords, but it still scared Zoe to tears. Yet Misty didn't back away. She moved forward instead, one small step at a time, eyes hard and focused, a hand tentatively stretched forward.

Misty stopped when she was a couple of feet away and then crouched until they were almost the same height. She kept above him, looking a bit like an animal, Zoe thought. Rules of nature, Misty had told her; most creatures do not battle was is bigger than them, fore it is often stronger too. It seemed nature ruled in her house today as well, because Kyle didn't attack. He kept snarling, rolling out those raspy breaths and his dark eyes bored into Misty's as hers did the same in return.

Finally, Misty reached out a hand and placed it on his wrist.

It was a gentle touch and the serenity seemed to spread from the touch into Kyle. His eyes fluttered and he wavered on his feet. The look of lightheadedness, of faint, came over him again, but this time Misty pulled away before Zoe could interrupt. Kyle sat down into the corner and stared ahead with a dreamlike expression.

Misty stood up, looked at him for a moment without turning around.

"Can you help him?" Zoe asked hopefully. It had gone so well this time, compared to the last. It made small butterflies gather in her stomach, anxious hope fluttering around.

But when Misty turned, her expression made ice of Zoe's butterflies.

"I think there's only one way I can save him from this."

"You don't mean…" She couldn't finish her sentence. Misty's sad eyes were answer enough.

"I think he ain't well like this."

Zoe shook her head and looked at her boyfriend. He started to wake up again, the look of spite came over his face again and he bared his teeth in a snarl. Misty moved away with calm and made room for Zoe to sit down and stroke his hair until he diverted his eyes and eased up.

"I can't let you do it", Zoe whispered. "He's good with me. I can teach him to be himself again. I can."

Kyle reached up and caught the tear on her cheek with his finger. He used to do that before too, catch her tears so she wouldn't cry them. He always said it made him sad to see them fall.

"He's calm with you. Maybe that's enough. But I don't know." Misty's voice was flat and honest, no hope or presumption in there. Only the truth she knew. But Zoe had to believe a different one.

"It is." She turned around to face Misty and said it again, just as much to convince herself as to convince her. "It's going to be enough."

Misty nodded. "I get what he is to you, so I won't make the choice for you. But you know where I am."

They looked at each other and found understanding there. They both gave a nod and Misty turned to leave. Kyle grew agitated beside her and Zoe shushed him gently, as the front door closed.

O0O

Hank opened the door for Cordelia on an evening three days after their playdate with Cage. He recognized the sadness in her face as the first thing about her. He was so used to seeing it, that finding it almost completely absent had taken him with shock when he first appeared a week ago. He had only known her whilst engulfed in darkness and seeing her genuinely well was a rare sight he had almost forgotten by the end of their marriage. Now the shadows were back and he asked her about them.

"I'm having a bit of a relapse, it seems", she said honestly.

"Are you back on medication?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet." Then she smiled, one that was almost convincing. "Let's not talk about it. It's a nice room you have here. Isn't it expensive?"

Hank shrugged. "Could have been worse. But I have some money. Cleared my bank account right after I left here. And I recently had a job in that payed better than the one at my father's company."

"Have you spoken to your father since?" Hank noticed she never finished those sentences. As if even though everyone came out alive, it was still too horrible to speak of. He knew what she meant though.

"Can't do that. He thinks I'm dead."

"I'm sorry", she said and looked like she meant it. He wanted to say that it wasn't her fault, but in an indirect way, it was. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

"You know him. It wasn't that big a loss." He tried to say it with ease, but didn't quite succeed. As awful as he father often made him feel, being dead to him hurt more than Hank had expected. It was a freedom he didn't truly want after all.

Cordelia seemed to be reading his mind, when she said: "Still. He is your father."

"I know. I sometimes call him up to hear his voice", Hank admitted. "But I always hang up before he realizes who it is."

"He might start to think you're haunting him."

"You don't believe stuff like that."

Cordelia sighed. "I don't know." She moved to the small table at the other end of the room and sat down. Pulled out a calendar and looked up for him. He went to join her, but had no calendar or even a piece of paper to write down on. He hadn't come here with much. Most of his belongings were stored away in New York or reduced to ash.

She noticed his lack of supplies and gave him an apologetic smile before she drew out a pencil to jot down available days on a notepad for him. For a while they discussed days back and forth and the possibility of Hank spending time alone with Cage. Cordelia was particularly hesitant here and he didn't push her. He actually preferred it if she was present as well. It made him feel like that family they were never allowed.

When they were done, she packed the calendar away and left the notes for him, but she didn't leave at once. Instead she asked how he had been. He didn't know if it was out of guilt, curiosity or something else and he didn't care. He ended up telling her about his new life in the cold New York, about kicking the drinking habit and about Kaylee. How they had helped each other get through addiction, or at least that was what he had thought until she burned his apartment down.

Cordelia covered her mouth with her hand in that dramatic fashion she used to when faced with something horrendous. "Oh God, that's horrible. I'm sorry she did that to you."

"I should have seen it coming. She did love to light stuff on fire."

"But still, that's taking it a little far I think."

Hank couldn't help a chuckle. "Agreed. But I had to break up with her anyway, so I had it coming." Cordelia didn't ask why he had to, only looked at him from across the table with a wary expression, as if she knew just why without him saying it. But he said it anyway. "I had to because of you. Because you and I aren't finished."

Suddenly the atmosphere turned serious and his heart stammered in his chest. The paper filter had allowed him to talk without a tremor, but now as he saw her face change, the paper filter didn't protect him enough. Not from her.

"Hank, please don't do this. I… I have to go." She got out of the chair and so did he. He cut her off on the way to the door.

"Listen to me. You said you love me. You didn't want me to go even though both of us knew I should. Now here I am." He took a step closer to her, close enough to gently trace her forearm with his hand.

"Don't", she pleaded, pushed his hand away with a weak motion. It felt almost reluctant to him. He knew her, knew her buttons. Like how she relaxed more when a hand rested at her hip and he snuck his hand there instead. She gestured to push him off again, but he held on a little tighter, brought the other hand up as well. He couldn't help registering how good it felt to hold her.

"I should never have left you. I should have stayed and fought for you."

"I can't do this", she whispered. Her eyes watered up, but she also closed her fingers around the fabric of his shirtsleeve.

"You can if you want to", he told her. No answer came and Hank leaned forward, caught her lips in a gentle kiss. It was just enough to remember how much he had missed this, just enough for the prickle in his chest to feel real. Then she pushed him away with a hand on his chest.

"No, Hank." Her voice quivered. She withdrew her hand again, rubbed her temple in a panicked cirle and blinked the tears away.

"I love you, Cordelia. Just please..." He looked into her eyes and he wasn't sure what he found there, only that it didn't match her words. She drew a trembling breath and looked right back. Helplessness was the most predominant emotion in her gaze, but in such a way that he couldn't help but feed on it. She didn't resist and when the prickle in his chest started to die again he moved forward, pressed his mouth to hers one more time.

This time she didn't push him away. He drew his arm further around her waist, pulled her in and she let him. Suddenly the atmosphere changed and they were engulfed by a bubble, sending them back in time. Back to when they knew each other's bodies and there was only them. Maybe all the way back to college when he was first battling her depression to win her over. He pulled her closer yet, wowed his fingers into her hair and thrilled at her response in kind. He could feel the temperature building now and it wasn't only him. Her tiny hands fisted in his shirt and started tugging at it. He discarded it gladly and worked his way beneath her layers of clothes. How he had missed the feel of her skin. He pulled her towards the bed and she followed. Her eyes were dark and there were no more words in her. As if that part of her mind had shut off. He laid her down and she pulled him with her.

Finally there was an opportunity to taste her sweet skin. He put his mouth to her shoulder, her chest, simultaneously wanting to savor the feeling and afraid she would suddenly stop him. But she didn't.

O0O

You're disgusting. Now you've really done it. Filthy traitor. You don't deserve to ever look at Misty again.

The voices hammered down on her and she let them. There was no point in trying to scratch them away. She agreed with every single one of them.

Hank had drifted off into sleep and she got dressed as fast and as quiet as she could. She couldn't face him now. She couldn't face anyone. All she could was to get out of this room, which reeked of her betrayal.

She thought maybe he opened his eyes and looked at her right before she closed the door, but she didn't stop to check. She only prayed he wouldn't come running after her, as she found her way out of the hotel.

It was barely midnight. The sky was dark and heavy with clouds, the streets empty. The heat hung over her like a hand pushing her to the ground, even at this hour. She had made no promises to come home early despite Misty's objections, because she hadn't known how long it would make Hank agree to the days she had Misty had proposed. And she had wanted to catch up. She had needed that and Misty understood that their past was complicated, in desperate need of receiving some closure. But now this… Tears pressed on and spilled over at the thought of Misty, sweet Misty waiting at home for her. She might have gone to sleep now, but she was a light sleeper and she would no doubt register her entering.

She couldn't go home. It felt like bringing poison into their house, infecting Misty with whatever had possessed Cordelia to do this monstrous thing.

She didn't go home. Instead she found an ally to cry in, hoping the shadows would eat her before she could leave again. She had to get it out of her system, before she neared the house. Misty would see right through her and she couldn't know. It would destroy her.

You deserve watch her disintegrate. You deserve to be hated.

She did. God knew she did.

The shadows bit at her feet, but they didn't swallow her up as she had hoped. After half an hour in the dark, she knew she had to return or Misty would worry, maybe even go to the hotel. Cordelia had given her the address, as Misty didn't use phones and wanted a place to show up if anything should happen. The mere possibility of a scene where Misty could have shown up, witnessed that… it made Cordelia want to stay in the dark forever. She could feel her fingers reaching out for a black hole to disappear into, but only now when she truly wanted one, nothing showed. She was not allowed to disappear into insanity, no matter how much the voices hissed at her. She had her beautiful, miracle boy who needed her.

Finally she steered towards home and found a light on. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt as if she was running a fever, when she walked through the front door.

The voice from inside the house wasn't Misty's. She had never been so relieved to hear Cometh's voice as in that moment. That meant Misty was upstairs asleep and her mother likely wouldn't be too observant. She rushed through the hall, said a quick hello and reached the stairs before Fiona caught her.

"You look unhappy." She didn't say more than that. As if the straightforward question was too simple for her and perhaps even stripped her a layer of pride.

"Is that news?" Cordelia answered and took another step.

Fiona raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead she asked: "Is boy fox being difficult?"

"Mind your own business, mother."

"You are my business."

Cordelia shook her head. "Say goodnight to Cometh for me." She went up the stairs before Fiona could say any more.

She snuck into the dark of the master bedroom with a sickening heartbeat and changed as quietly as she could, hoping she wouldn't wake Misty. She crept into bed beside her, facing away and feeling like some thief in the night. An imposter to the person Misty expected to return to her bed.

Just when she thought she was safe, a hand came around her and a breath tickled her ear.

"You okay, darlin'? Did he make trouble out of it?"

"No, we agreed fine", she whispered back.

"Then what?" Misty tugged at her waist, tried to get her to turn around, but Cordelia stayed in place. She was afraid she would give herself away, even in the dark.

"Today is just a struggle", she said. There was a short pause and then Misty gave up on trying to make her turn around.

"Tomorrow'll be better", she said at last, kissed Cordelia behind the ear and nuzzled herself back into bed. Cordelia didn't answer, but squeezed Misty's hand on her stomach and fought to strangle the tears.