A/N: Thanks for all the support you guys! I'm glad you decided to stick around, even if the foxxay is a bit messed up at the moment. But we still got a long way to go, there's time for everything. Okay here goes.

Tomorrow wasn't better. Her tomorrow was a kind of new day she would never have thought she would experience. In truth, she had already, but the guilt was always different when Hank was the deceived one. The conflict hadn't tasted the same. The shame was never this strong. Nightmares didn't haunt her so long into the day as they did now.

And the nightmares went on. Those of Cage's mangled body came with more breathing space in between now, but they hadn't left. She had kept afloat with them, because when she woke up screaming and ran to the nursery, Misty would wrap her in a soothing embrace by the side of Cage's crib and it would be okay. Now the gesture made her feel so much worse that she had to rid herself of the warm touch, because the hands burned her.

At first Misty asked what troubled her so, but a week of getting no answer left her quiet. She still came in every time though, hands searching to see if they were needed. Once, Cordelia surrendered and cried into her hair, feeling like filthy thief for stealing this kind of comfort she had no right to receive.

She went to work the next day as though nothing bothered her. She needed this armor of indifference to survive the day.

She ate alone these days. Those few friends she had found in colleagues were scattered. One had moved to a different district, one had retired and one had proven not to be a friend at all. Now she sat with a coven of others, looking at Cordelia as they spoke. Cordelia didn't need to hear the words to know what they said about her. And she didn't have the spirit to shut them out. Her armor was wearing thin lately.

Lunch wasn't completely over before she fled the teacher's lounge and went for a stall of toilets at the far end. On her way she bumped into a student around the corner, too lost in her own world of inside and outside voices to look where she tread.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't look where I was going", she stammered, before she even recognized the student.

"It's quite alright, Miss Goode." The voice had aged and so had the face, but the eyes of young Trisha looked back with a smile in them. She had swapped the glasses for contacts, but her ruffled brown hair was still her trademark. Her body had stretched into that of a teenager, one with a little more on her bones than the rest, but it only made her look more mature in Cordelia's eyes.

"Wow Trisha, look at you. I don't see you enough around school, you all grow into such beautiful young people without me."

Trisha gave her a shy smile. "We miss you, the class", she said. She shot Cordelia a look and then added: "You know we don't think you're crazy, right? Those of us who met Misty kinda knew." There was a troublemaker smile in her features, one that resembled the young version so much it made Cordelia's heart ache. She missed the guilt she carried then, as opposed to this one.

"That's sweet of you to say, Trisha. I miss your class too. You were a good group."

She smiled and winked. It made Cordelia's chest flutter with memories, so much it threatened to break her fragile heart. But Trisha didn't see it. "I have to get to class, but say hi to Misty for me, okay?" She cheerfully tapped Cordelia shoulder and then she was out of sight. Her energy lingered for a moment or so, allowed Cordelia to absorb it and use it to get through the day until she could go back to the outside silence of her house. The inside of her head was never silent these days. She might have learned to function with the persistent whispers in her mind, to almost tune them out, but silence she didn't get.

The house was empty, except for Spalding's ever present shadow. Fiona was out picking up Cage today and Misty must be roaming the forest for some breathing space. Cordelia knew she felt the tension and she knew that Cordelia's holding it in frustrated her so, but how could she speak of this? There was no comfort to be gained for either of them by letting it out. No damage would be erased, no guilt lifted. She would only include Misty in her own suffering.

Cordelia found her way to the bathroom and went to a corner of the cupboard she hadn't searched in a long while. Misty had hid most of them away during her mental break, but as the years proved healthier for Cordelia, she stopped hiding them. And Cordelia had stuffed a new one away in case of need. Now she took out the little razor and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. She pulled up her skirt until her left thigh was bared. Her skin looked so wholesome, the white, incurable scars barely visible on her pale skin. She drew a deep sigh, put the little blade to her skin and dragged it until a red line separated the white. She hissed as the cut divided, stopped for second to breathe and then found a new spot. She knew this pain, she knew what to expect from it. In a way, that familiarity was comforting.

There were five thin lines by the time she heard steps on the stairs. She didn't try to hide, because she knew it wasn't Fiona or Cage.

"Delia?"

Cordelia didn't answer, only breathed out another heavy sigh and took the blade off her leg. She had closed the door, but she hadn't locked it and when Misty tested the handle, it opened. She peeked in through the crack, not to see but to feel the atmosphere the way she always did. Cordelia sometimes thought that should Misty ever go blind, she would see just as clearly as she did now.

Her body stiffened for a second and then she swung the door open. They looked at each other and it was all the explanation needed for now. Cordelia lifted her hand and let Misty pick the blade out of her bloodied grip, before she kneeled and reached to mend Cordelia's newly wrecked skin. Her touch was careful and slow, but her movements betrayed shock despite the trance that sunk over her soon after. She didn't comment, however, and Cordelia was grateful. The supernatural warmth spread in Cordelia's thigh and it felt too good. Too good, because God it hurt to watch her sit there again, unconditionally devoted to fixing what Cordelia knew now couldn't be fixed.

Misty looked up from her position and her eyes were pleading. "This ain't the way, darlin', you know that. You're the talker, remember? You gotta tell me."

Her face looked so young, dressed in worry. Cordelia cupped it in her hands and said: "I love you. You know that, don't you? No matter what happens, that never stops being true."

Misty took her hands and lowered them. Held them to her mouth and mumbled: "I know. That was never the problem." She drew out a little smile and got up. "C'mon, best get you cleaned up 'fore the rest of 'em comes home."

O0O

Fiona leaned back against the windowpane of Cometh's small apartment, half dressed, and blew smoke against the window. She watched it twirl and dissipate against the glass, trying and failing to ignore his steps coming closer.

"I thought you were going to stop that?" He said. "For your daughters."

"Only one of them is mine", Fiona replied. "And what she doesn't know doesn't hurt her."

Cometh came into her peripheral vision, blocked it and stole her focus. "I think their point was that it hurts you."

"That's a lot of preaching from a cocaine dealer."

He sent her a boyish smirk. "I never touch it, you know that."

Fiona scoffed and gave him a look. "Don't I get credit for quitting the other two? This one is the least destructive."

"I'm not sure that's true", he said and picked the cigarette out of her fingers. He put it out in the ashtray beside the window. When Fiona gave him a disproving look, he only lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I don't want you harming yourself either."

She looked into his warm, soulful eyes and her stomach twisted. Suddenly she realized how much she wanted to tell him about the doctor's visit and how little she wanted him to know that he was losing her. The thought of that smile going away hurt in a way she hadn't hurt in a long time. She didn't answer his words, but turned her front to him and pulled him in.

"Kiss me", she demanded and he did. His hands traveled up her spine, gentlemanlike in their touch and only forceful at the right times. This was another reason she couldn't tell him. He would treat her like a bag of feathers if he knew and she didn't need that. She needed this.

"Have you considered my proposal yet?" He whispered in her ear.

"I told you no."

He kissed her neck, his teeth carefully scraping her skin. "But you didn't mean it."

"Stop talking, Cometh."

He did and she finally got the break she needed. However, when she left an hour later, she wasn't sure if she felt relieved or more oppressed. He must be used to her lacking explanations by now, but she could tell this one bothered him the most. His mistake, because knowing the truth would do far more than bother him.

Fiona locked herself into the mansion and enjoyed the quiet. It was early in the afternoon, her daughter and her grandson occupied with their daily doings. She could never tell if Misty was at work or not at this time. She figured not, as most bars hadn't opened yet, so that left the forest. Better she stay out there. She was acting strange these days, moodier, quieter. As were Fiona's own daughter, but mood swings were nothing unusual with her.

Even Cage seemed to sense a change in the air. The whole house appeared to be under a cloud of something, a rain that avoided Fiona. She didn't know the nature of the rain, only that boy Foxx was likely the cause. He hadn't been by since the first day, but he and Cordelia had met up with and without Cage on a few occasions. For once Fiona agreed with the moody swamp witch; Hank could crawl back into a muddy hole of oblivion for all she cared.

A knock on the door interrupted her before she could settle down in her usual armchair. No one ever came knocking here except for Zoe and Fiona wasn't surprised to see her face on the other side of the door. The lack of color in her face and the aura of exhaustion were the only aspects unexpected.

"Zoe, are you sick? You look horrible."

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Is Misty here?"

"No, my guess is the swamp. But I wouldn't go out there if I were you, Misty says it's acting out or something like that-" She stopped herself, when she realized that information might hit a little too close to home with Zoe. But the girl barely reacted. Her gaze remained indifferent, as she waited for Fiona to stop talking. She appeared to be contemplating something with herself, as she looked slowly around. Vague grey circles had formed under her eyes and it drew the light out of them. Her usual energy had seeped out of her between now and when Fiona last saw her.

"How is Kyle?" She had wanted to give the girl a piece of her mind about crossing paths with Laveau ever since the incident with the dead mom, but this grey look over her was too familiar and Fiona kept her mouth shut about it.

"He's fine. Um, do you have a space here you don't use? For storage? Like a cellar or something."

"We have an attic. Why?"

"Can I use it?"

Fiona give the girl a scrutinizing look. Zoe looked back and her dull gaze gave nothing away.

"What happened to you, girl?"

Zoe shrugged. "Haven't been getting so much sleep lately. So can I use it?"

"Sure", Fiona offered. "You get up there from out back. It's not locked and you can use all of it. No one goes up there anyway."

"Thank you. I'll come by with it later." She then said a polite goodbye and walked back down the isle. Fiona watched her disappear down the street and thought to herself that if there was a virus of depression to catch around here, she had better start living at Cometh's.

O0O

"Come on, Kyle." She couldn't help but feel that she was talking to a dog. He had more words now, even full sentences when he concentrated, but the way he reacted to her care and gentle commands were more canine than human. He walked hand in hand with her, but the thought to put a collar and a thick leash around his neck had crossed her mind. He was calm with her, but he got agitated so easily. Much too easy.

She had gotten him clean of dirt and sweat and some hidden blood leftovers and guided him to his new home. There was no space at her own house anymore; it was too difficult.

They walked onto the Goode's pavement, but instead of walking up the isle, they turned and went for the back yard. Kyle gave her a confused look, perhaps remembering that they used to go for the front door. Zoe ignored it. Fiona had pointed out the entrance to the attic room and Zoe led him there.

"We need to go up here, Kyle. Come on." He looked at her and then at her finger pointing up the stairs to the attic room. Then he started walking, dragging her with him by the hand. Good boy.

It was a narrow staircase. Zoe wasn't claustrophobic but Kyle looked miserable, curled up and head down to walk in here. The old maid had to be one short woman to live up here. Zoe pushed at Kyle to get him moving and told him to open the door. He did, whining a little as he did it.

It was a small room with bare walls and a little window facing the sky at a crooked angle. The floorboards had been scrubbed clean of blood years ago and now a thick layer of dust covered the floor. It was so thick their steps left prints in it, like when she walked through untouched snow at winter. It made her cough and it startled Kyle when she did. He tread warily into the room and sat down on the floor.

He didn't need anything, she realized. There was no bed in here, no place for food, but Kyle didn't need any of that. He didn't sleep she had noticed and he ate whatever she served him, no need for it to be cooled or even good. He ate everything.

She shuddered and cast a glance towards the end wall. There was markings from nails bolted into that wall. Through flesh, she knew. Misty had told her the whole story. It was something out of a horror movie and now seeing the actual place for the first time caused another shiver to run down her spine. She took the Walkman out of her back and placed it beside in, hurrying to get out of there. But when she started to move away, Kyle yelped and latched onto her hand.

"Don't go Z-oe!"

"I have to, Kyle. I'll come over and feed you soon, okay?"

He dragged at her hand again. Death had added to his strength; one tug and she was on her knees in front of him.

"Z-oe?" She didn't answer, only looked into his face and watched it twist into sadness. "I'm sorry."

She drew a sigh, closed her eyes and tried to keep composed. Then she got up again.

"I have to go now, Kyle." She snaked her hand out of his grasp, turned on her heel and left. She blinked the tears away and locked the door behind her.

The clean air almost stung in her lungs, when she heaved in a fresh breath. Then she closed the door to the staircase and walked out of the garden.

Only to meet Misty around the corner. She jumped aside just in time to avoid getting hit in the head with a giant jar full of dirt and plants.

"Zoe, what're you doing here?" Misty asked and sat down the jar. It looked too heavy for Misty's small bone structure to carry, but there was in a strength in her no one understood, least of all Zoe. And something else in her features. Anger. And anger makes strong they say.

"Um, just…" She trailed off. She had no words. "Where were you going?" She asked instead.

"To the green house. But I live here." She looked like she was about to ask another thing, then stopped. Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't bring him here, did you?" Her gaze pierced Zoe's slow mind and her head turned towards the corner. A look of disbelief came over her eyes and she started walking towards the staircase.

"Misty, please-" She didn't bother saying more; Misty had already ripped the door open and was halfway of the stairs. Zoe watched from the bottom, as Misty turned the lock and opened the door. Zoe guessed that she had found Kyle when her posture stiffened. From the inside came a low, rumbling snarl. Then Misty shut the door again and came back down the stairs. Zoe expected her to be furious, but if so it was a cold kind of fury. Misty slammed the door to the staircase and turned to Zoe. There was definitely fury in her eyes now and as they pierced Zoe once again, she found herself slightly frightened for just a moment.

"Why did you bring him here?" Misty demanded.

"It's not for you to… It was just too much having him at home. And I'm afraid he'll do more damage in the city."

"I thought you and your parents could handle it."

"My parents are travelling", she said and the tears threatened to come back. Misty towered over her, still holding her trapped in that cold fury. "He's so violent. I can't keep him from breaking everything. But there's nothing to break up there. And Fiona said I could use the attic."

"Bet you didn't tell her what you're using it for", Misty snapped.

Zoe shook her head. "I didn't. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do! But he's locked in now and I'll take care of him, I promise!"

Misty growled, not that much unlike the sound Kyle sometimes made, and looked to the sky. Zoe might just be hoping, but she seemed agitated beyond the burden Zoe had just placed on her. Maybe it was just that she didn't like the thought that she was the one making Misty uncomfortable.

"Do you think Cordelia-"

Misty's eyes snapped back to her. "You don't say nothin' to her!" Zoe shook her head at once.

"Not if you don't want me to. If you think that's best."

"She's got enough on her mind, trust me." Misty growled again and went to pick up the jar. When she spoke, again the fury had gone from her voice and only some mild frustration lingered. "Just make sure he stays up there. I gotta go. Cage's runnin' a fever and we might needa take him to the doctor this time."

"Hope he feels better", Zoe offered. Misty gave her a small, tight smile, that didn't reach her eyes and went on with the jar. The fright left Zoe again and every other emotions seemed to go with it. She was left in tasteless, neutral grey, as if all color had seeped out as well.

She walked home in the grey.