Cordelia took to cleaning up after she had put Cage to bed. Fiona was not home today. She had offered to stay, but Cordelia had told her no. She wouldn't feel better with her mother staring at her all night. If she was to be alone from now on, Spalding was a better shadow than her. He only offered condoling glances once in a while and that was about all she could handle without breaking into tears. The pain never subsided, the guilt never eased. The blame never stopped whispering in her inner ear. God, how they tormented her. She deserved it, yes, but it was with no end and even the prospect of restarting the antidepressants didn't bring her relief. While she no longer suffered the persistent nightmares, taking these drugs sometimes made it feel like everything was a cloudy dream. A haze of indifference. She couldn't decide if she feared reentering the dull grey perspective of the world or if she welcomed it. Maybe if she felt a little less altogether, the day wouldn't seem like such a battle just to get through.

She went to the bedroom after she was done cleaning the first floor. Cleaning up gave her something to do, something to put her mind to. By now Cage was sound asleep and she could move around the second floor without the risk of waking him up.

The bedroom had become quite messy over the past week. She spent as little time in here as possible, because it just hurt too much to notice what was missing. Only now had she found the strength to endure it and she started by picking up her clothes from the floor. Misty's too. The smell of her lingered with them and it brought tears to Cordelia's eyes. She took a deep breath, refused to cry this time. Crying took too much out of her day and she was trying to be efficient for once.

The sound of footsteps on the hall outside entered her mind, but strayed from her consciousness until it came into the room and the door shut. Cordelia stood up then, a vibration of premonition in her body, and turned around.

And there was Misty.

A pulse raced in her body already, making her feel like she was trembling all over. She was used to seeing despair in her own reflection, but seeing it in Misty's eyes like that hit her harder than anything she could remember. The ghost from before was gone now and there was a hardness in Misty's crystal eyes, along with a load of other emotions, changing as Cordelia watched her, as if she couldn't settle on one. Her jaw was clenched tight, her hands fisted at her sides. She was immobile, only stared without a word.

Cordelia dropped the shirt in her hands and stared back in shock for a second or two, bracing herself.

Then she asked: "Do you hate me?"

Misty didn't answer, but moved instead. She took the four steps across the room, pulled Cordelia close with a swift, rough motion and caught her in a fierce kiss.

Desperation exploded in Cordelia's chest.

She grasped to pull Misty closer, gasped at the sudden change of feeling in her body and fought to keep up with the kiss. It was hard, ruthless and needful and Misty's hands were holding her so tight, her fingers were digging into Cordelia's neck. Confused as she was, she surrendered all the control to Misty without conscious thought. Misty pulled her to the bed and Cordelia followed without protest. She wanted words, a part of her really needed that question answered, but it seemed Misty had no words to give. Her skilled hands had already maneuvered Cordelia's t-shirt off and now they pushed her onto the waiting mattress.

"Misty-" She began, but was silenced by another deep kiss. It possessed a hunger Cordelia couldn't shake; it woke her own and it started a battle within her, one side wanting to clear the air before behaving so savage-like and the other just aching to give in.

Misty climbed over her, straddled her and pinned her down so she couldn't move. It was different from what it used to be, much headier and far more aggressive than it had been in a long time. A shift in balance. Misty started tracing kisses down her throat, not quite biting, but still claiming her skin in some way. The second party of the battle was gaining fast. Cordelia tried to keep her head clear, foolishly tried to come up with something to say, but failed when Misty fixed her bra open and threw it away. Fingers found one of their favorite spots and it made Cordelia shiver.

"We should-"

"Don't talk", Misty said and caught her lips again. There was no smile on her face, the usual gentle insistence gone. Fingers twisted just a little and Cordelia moaned into the kiss. Misty's teeth dragged over her bottom lip and then she moved down. Throat, ear – even Misty's heavy breathing sounded angry – collarbone, chest, stomach. Cordelia's own breathing sped the lower Misty got. She ached so immensely now and she felt like she shouldn't, because it was backwards somehow, but then Misty's hand was on the inside and God it felt good to feel her again.

Her cleaner side lost the battle then, the aching took over and she reached up to rid Misty of her dress. She wanted skin, she wanted to feel her, make her squirm the same way. But when her hand came close, Misty snarled and stopped. She withdrew her hand and pinned Cordelia down again. For just one silent, breathless moment, their eyes met and Cordelia understood what Misty wanted. Or rather, didn't want. Her eyes were full of despair and Cordelia couldn't find words or emotions to argue, only beg to be let in. But Misty refused. She went down again, before Cordelia found words, and when Misty tore off her skirt, left her exposed, the last of her rational thoughts scattered. More than anything else, Cordelia wanted to feel her, to feel something other than this devastating guilt and loss. She couldn't help it; she missed her with every cell of her being.

Misty's lips ran out of stomach, teeth drew back, but the kisses went on. Cordelia whimpered and arched into the touch. The desperation in her chest took new form, changed color and flooded her entire body. With her hands banned from touch, she clawed at the mattress instead and for just a moment all irrelevant, negative emotions left her. There was only light and heat and this.

When she came down from the high, Misty was panting with her, watching her and Cordelia forgot. She lifted her hands and ran them up Misty's arms. Misty instantly shook them off, but Cordelia tried again only to have herself pinned down by the wrist with a harsh grip. For a second Misty wavered, only a second before she bent down to suck on Cordelia's bottom lip. Cordelia tried to cup her face and Misty frantically pushed her hands aside.

"Don't", she snarled. Her voice shook now. She straddled Cordelia again, holding down her entire body and still keeping that blaze alive. It was the passion, which gave Cordelia the strength to keep insisting.

"Stop it!" Misty hissed and held down her arms on each side, hands trembling against Cordelia's wrists. There were tears in Misty's eyes, when their gazes locked.

Everything stood still.

"If you still want me then stop fighting me", Cordelia said in a calm, warm voice.

It was Misty's defeat.

Her tears spilled over and she started crying. For several endless seconds the only sound in the room was the sobs wrenching from Misty's throat. Cordelia was trapped, bound to stare up into the face of the damage she had done. A tear fell out of Misty's eyes and down onto her naked chest.

"I can't lose you", Misty whimpered with what little air she had. "I can't- I can't breathe, but I just- I'm still- I'm so mad at you."

It felt like an iron fist punched through Cordelia's chest and then something sharp and icy made its way from her broken heart and out into the cavity of her chest, spreading the splintered pieces around. It tickled with pain everywhere.

"Oh I know. I know and I'm so sorry, Misty", she said, on the verge of crying herself. "God, I'm so sorry, love."

Finally, Misty caved. Her arms gave up on holding her and she crawled down beside Cordelia, sobbed against her shoulder. Cordelia put her arms around her and hugged her close. Misty's one hand curled into a fist on top of Cordelia's chest as she wrapped herself up in the embrace like a tiny little thing, tears still rolling out and onto uncovered skin.

"I need you", she choked out in between crying. "So you can't choose him. You can't push me away."

Every word felt like a stab to the chest. But at the same time Cordelia felt that frantic need in Misty's embrace, as she trembled next to her. It made the need for reassurance take a backseat to her urge to comfort Misty and make her feel safe again. Cordelia stroked her wild hair and shushed her gently.

"I'm here, darling. I promise. Know that you are the only one in the world for me. I'm not saying this to pressure you to forgive me. I'm only saying that I will wait forever if I have to."

Misty's crying subsided to sniffles. Cordelia's neck was now damp with breaths and tears, but she took a strange comfort in it. She fumbled for the covers, which had been curled down at the foot of the bed, and pulled them over them both. Misty didn't utter another word, but nestled close instead. It felt a little bit like when they were both children and Misty needed to have her close, because the nightlight made her uneasy. Cordelia only tugged the bed cover tighter around her and kissed the top of her head. If safety was what she could offer, she would settle for that.

The exhaustion in her younger lover was so absolute that she fell asleep within minutes. Cordelia stayed awake for another hour, listening to Misty's calm, untroubled breathing. It was the sound of peace and Cordelia fought to believe that it really was just that. Only when the truth sunk in just over midnight did she give in to her own conflicted tears.

O0O

"Marie! That white girl whose name I can't remember is in the shop for you!" Chantal had taken to shouting through the door instead of knocking these days. Marie knew she was too scared to walk into the room and find it full of blood again. And neither of them had forgotten their last conversation. It lay between them like a patch of black, a great abyss neither dared to jump over. Chantal for her fright of the sudden shift in the atmosphere, which the darkness Marie's powers had brought with them, and Marie because there was no way she could go back.

Marie didn't listen. She had eyes staring back at her, big brown eyes and they might be glossy and injured, but they were open and they had life.

"I've done it", she whispered, afraid to speak or cause a motion that might startle him.

"Marie! I know you're in there!"

"Keep your voice down!" Marie hissed at her. Then she looked at her child again. He still lay down, like an oversized baby on a nursing station and stared up at her with quiet wonder. Then his eyes began to wander around the room, orbiting around in their uneven sockets while the rest of him lay still.

"Baby, can you hear me?"

Eyes on her again.

"You can", she whispered and the tears rushed to her eyes. For a moment, all thoughts of revenge went away, fell from her head as thoroughly as had they never been there in the first place. None of it matter now. "You can."

A hard knock. "What's going on in there?"

"Lie still, baby", Marie whispered to Damian and went for the door. She opened at crack to her sister's surprised face. The shock intensified when she caught Marie's tears.

"What did-"

"Can you send her in here? The girl. I can't leave the room."

"What's happened, Marie?" Chantal urged and tried to push through the crack, but Marie stopped her.

"Later! Now go get her."

Chantal looked like she wanted to argue, but turned on her heal instead and marched out to the shop. Marie went back to the table, where Damian had only turned his head to follow her movement.

"Baby, can you try to sit up? Sit up for mama please."

At first he did nothing. He only lay there and watched her. Marie stretched out a slightly trembling hand and touched his cheek, the one that was whole. It was colder than she expected, but she remembered from the other boy, that it would be like that. She ran a hand through his thick black hair, stroked his cheek again. All cold, but responsive. He responded.

She had managed to save his right eye, but it hung loosely from the socket. His face bent inwards at the right side, but the skin went all the way over now. His right arm was completely gone and there was only a stump for the right leg. But he was still the most beautiful boy in the world. Her little miracle boy. His father could leave, the witch in the forest could curse him, Papa Legba could try to take him, but Marie would have none of it. And here he was again. They would figure something out for his legs. He would walk again. He was so young and young boys learned fast.

Finally, she lend him her hand and his little fingers grasped for it. Then ever so slowly, he began pulling himself up. He almost tipped as the right part of his limps weren't there to keep his balance, but he stayed up. His glossy eyes followed her and his little left hand reached up to touch her tears. It only made her cry more.

"Oh my little boy!"

Knocking again. "Marie? She's here."

"Sit still, Damian, do that for mama, okay?" He didn't move, but stayed put when she gently wiggled her hand out of his grasp and took a step back. Then he made a sound, a feeble, breathless cry. It sounded like a hiss of a furious wind, too weak to be a human voice. Marie looked down at his scarred neck and thought perhaps his vocal cord had been damaged too.

"It's okay, baby, I'm right here. You can see me all the time." She walked towards the door and didn't turn her head away from Damian before she reached it. Then she cracked it open again. Chantal stood ready on the other side with the visitor.

Marie regarded her first: "Hello Emily. Do you have my item?" She had meant to berate the young nurse for taking a week to get back with it, but now she couldn't find it in her to care. She didn't think she really needed it after all, but it had to be dealt with either way, so Emily could go on to forgetting everything.

Emily nodded. From the inside pocket of her bag she drew out a little plastic bag. It looked empty upon first glance, but a closer look revealed a few strands of blonde, curly hair. Marie snatched the bag from her grasp.

"Thank you. You can leave now. And remember none of this." The last came out not in English, but in old words of a forgotten language, taught to Marie through the powers she had been granted. A flicker of haze came over Emily's eyes and she gave a sedated nod. Then she left.

Chantal gave Marie an insecure glance and looked after Emily as she went back to the shop and then home. She never asked about the spells or the strange words, but instead nodded at the half closed door. "What's with all the secrecy?"

"I'll show you." She couldn't keep the smile away any longer. "I did it."

"You did what?" Chantal asked, but the look in her eyes made it appear as though she had already guessed. Just that she didn't believe it. Marie stepped aside and gave Chantal full view to her miracle.

Chantal gasped and her whole body stiffened.

"How did… I'll be damned, Marie, how in hell did you do this? Again?"

Marie couldn't speak. The awe had overwhelmed her and she only watched as Chantal inched closer to the little boy. They used to be best friends, those two. She was always the one to take care of him, when Marie was busy, almost a second mama at times. Chinwee had his moments with Damian, but Chantal was the one he went to. She had no children and loved him like her own. Now the tears had her tongue-tied too and she stared at him with wild wonder. She didn't notice all the things missing either, only saw how much of him was still there. His glossy little eyes followed her closely until she was just a few inches from him.

Then he screeched, a wheezing, blood-curling sound, and lunged at her. With his half-wrecked mouth and the teeth remaining, he latched himself onto her upper arm and began tearing at it until the blood started to spring and with his remaining hand, he clawed at her face. All the while screeching like a crazy whistle of air. Chantal screamed and flung her arm about, jerking it to get the child off. She screamed for Marie, but Marie was frozen. She watched as one last rough jerk made her little boy fly through the air and into the corner of the room with a loud thud. Chantal bolted for the door, screaming and crying as she ran out and down the hallway. Damian made a move to follow, but Marie shut the door, before he could do so. Instead he stayed in the corner, uttering low, wheezing snarls and scowling at the door.

Marie felt her newborn hope crackle like a piece of dry wood in that hissing wind. All the dark thoughts that was exorcised from her mind not ten minutes ago came back with renewed force. She stared at her boy for a moment and then curled her fist tight around the plastic bag in her hand.

"Well then", she said, mostly to the air, but a little bit to Damian also. "It's come to that. Let's get the potions out, baby. Time for some Goode ol' revenge!"

O0O

When Misty woke up, she was alone in the bed. She didn't realize it at first, because everything smelled of Cordelia, even her own skin, and it made her feel an ease she had missed in weeks. The previous night came back to her slowly, just enough for it to cramp in her chest a little, just enough for her to feel ashamed for acting so damn immature, but not enough for her to regret it.

She crawled out of bed and went to the closet for clean clothes. It was still here, all the things she hadn't moved. There was something odd about this, acting as if it was just another morning, when she wasn't even sure what she wanted yet.

Once dressed in clean clothes, she made her way downstairs. Spalding came out to her from one of the rooms, he appeared to have been cleaning, and gave her a smile.

"Hey Spaldin'", she said as she passed him. She even had room to smile back.

She found Cordelia in the living room, on the floor with Cage. She looked up as soon as Misty entered the room, the look in her eyes speaking of both caution and hope. She started to move all the toys Cage had placed on her, but Misty stopped her.

"No, don't get up", she said and Cordelia stayed put. Misty's voice was soft; she couldn't be angry anymore, and she knew Cordelia heard that. Relief shone in her face.

Then Cage caught up, spun around and saw her.

"Mama!" He wasted no time, but got to his little feet and ran to her. "Mama you home!" He wrapped his arms around her legs and she bent to pick him up. Then he flung his arms around her neck and Misty smiled into the air. A rock she hadn't even realized was there, fell from her heart. She had been so focused on Cordelia she had almost forgotten how much she had also dreaded losing Cage.

"I've missed you, baby boy. You've been good to mommy?"

"Yes", he said with a sing-song voice. How little it took to make kids happy. He grinned as if nothing had happened. Misty remembered she used to be like that.

She walked over to Cordelia and sat the boy down between them. For a while they just looked into each other's faces, read what was to be found there. Another apology. Longing to be one again. Understanding. And finally, acceptance.

"I forgive you now, I think", Misty said and Cordelia's face lit up so fast it made Misty's heart skip a beat. "But I can't come home just yet, I gotta- I needa be by myself for a couple more days."

Cordelia nodded, but she couldn't stop the tears from watering up her beautiful eyes. One spilled over and Misty reached out to wipe it away. She kept her hand there a little longer, against Cordelia's cheek, thumb stroking over her cheekbone. Cordelia lifted her own hand and put it on top of Misty's. Cage sat still and quiet, looking from one woman to the other, knowing something too important to disrupt was going on.

"You are… the most perfect soul I've ever met. You're an angel, Misty." She kissed Misty's hand and lowered it. "Take all the time you need. I will be right here, waiting for you."

Misty nodded and looked down. She didn't want to withdraw her hand quite yet. And another thought suddenly pressed on with guilt, an issue she had forgotten to mention. Angels don't do all the things she had done in the recent past.

"What is it?" Cordelia asked, having read the change on her face. Her voice was suddenly laced with caution again.

Misty looked up, feeling ashamed of it for the first time. "I got fired again."

She had expected shock, maybe worry of some kind, but Cordelia's expression softened again and she nodded. "I know. It's okay."

"I'll find a new job."

"When you're ready. We'll manage until then."

"Right… I gotta go now. Check on Nick, think a little bit." Cordelia looked sad again, but it was a calm kind of sad. Acceptance still ruled the atmosphere.

She only said: "You know where we are."

"You going, mama?" Cage's little voice interrupted them. He put a hand on Misty's arm and looked up at her with troubled eyes. They looked so much like Cordelia's, it hurt a little. "When you come home?"

"Soon, pup, I promise." She ruffled through his hair and gave Cordelia the last look. "Soon."

She got up then, before it became impossible to leave, and walked out of the room.

The air felt cleaner now, the moist heat less heavy. Dread and hurt had crawled to a much smaller space in her mind and the smell of Cordelia still lingered on her skin. The scent was almost intoxicating. It brought her a sense of peace that she yesterday feared she would have to learn to live without. Now she smiled into the air again, confident that it would be okay someday. She might not have worked it all out yet, but it seemed she had the tools to do it now.

Misty headed for the forest, meaning to spend a full day with Nick, clearing things up in her head. She found the path leading through the forest to her shack and her steps almost bounced on the soft grass. Half a dozen steps in, a shadow separated from the trees and something – someone? – sprang out towards her from the side. She turned her head, halfway into a protective crouch when the oddest kind of wind hit her. Dust blew into her eyes, mouth and nose. The second she inhaled it, her senses started to blur. When the footsteps retreated with haste, she was already half-blinded and unable to make out the figure of her attacker. And then a strange, intruding kind of tingle started to creep into her brain.

O0O

Fiona had begun tapping her fingers against the table. Then she looked at her fingers – she wouldn't be surprised to find them turning yellow already – and began tapping again. Misty was many things, but she was not one to keep injury waiting. She might have held back before, but she fought to keep Fiona alive now more than any of those goddamn doctors Fiona payed for. She tended to Fiona weekly to keep the cirrhosis down, a losing battle surely, but a slow one thanks to her.

And now she hadn't shown her face all day.

Fiona had even checked the swamp, stayed there for hours much to her own displeasure, but Misty never showed. Now back at the house and still she heard nothing. Cordelia was at the playground with Cage and when Fiona had asked her about Misty – carefully so because their truce felt too fragile to touch – she only shook her head and said she hadn't talked to Misty at all since the morning of yesterday. She had promised to give Misty space and Fiona thought she would probably rather let the darkness of her own anxiety choke her to death before she broke another promise.

This only meant that Fiona had no lifeline to call upon to help locate the goddamn swamp witch. She felt sick now, tired mostly and even feverish at the perspective of Misty not healing her this time. It would begin to show. No one knew she was this sick; she had sought to that. She would not make the same mistake as last time and have Cordelia find out through some odd kind of mother-daughter telepathy as she had then. Fiona scoffed. Of all the things intact about the biological connection between mother and child, it had to be the knack for smelling illness. What good was that? If at least the understanding of the other's struggle came with this telepathy, but no, that was an entirely different skill. Still, they were closer now. And Fiona was not about to let her shrinking liver get in the way of that.

When the evening came and Cordelia returned to cook dinner for her and Cage, Fiona went to Cometh's. He might be perceptive, but he did not share the illness smelling telepathy. His home would give her room to pull up a façade and act fine until Misty remembered that she was supposed to keep her from dying.

He opened at the second knock. She noticed the concerned look on his face, when he saw her, but she didn't comment on it. And he had tact enough to let her play pretend for a good hour, before he sat down beside her with determination and worry in his eyes.

"Is everything okay, my love? You look troubled. And feverish."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you saying I look bad?"

"Not possible", he chuckled. "But you do look like someone coming down with a bug. That happens to even the best, I've heard."

She looked into his handsome face, just appreciating that warm gaze directed at her. She couldn't tell him. Those eyes would become sad and she needed for everything around her not to be so goddamn sad. Not when it was finally looking a little brighter.

"You are a beautiful man, do you know that?"

He smiled and his eyes turned warmer. Then he picked up her hand and kissed it.

"You don't fool me, Fiona. There is something you don't want to tell me. Is your daughter okay?"

"Not quite, but far better", Fiona said honestly.

"That's good to hear." The free hand came around her shoulders, grazed her skin and started to gently massage the base of her skull. "So it's not that then."

Fiona sighed, kept her gaze focused on some point far away from the conversation. This was not the confession she had aimed for, but one she could handle. And it was just as true as the one still hidden. What was the point in keeping it in anyway? If there was no hope for salvation, then why not die with a nice buzz in her head.

She swallowed once to clean her throat and then said: "I want to drink."

A/N: End of part one. Thanks for sticking with me this far!