A/N: Trigger warning this chapter for mental health difficulties and substance use (alcohol). I've tried to keep it mild but just to let people know in case they want to skip this chapter.

Once she heard the apartment door close, Carla began to steadily count backwards from two hundred, trying to hold back the impulse to jump out of bed straight away. She'd been waiting for nearly a week for this opportunity; two weeks, if you included the time she'd spent trying to make up her mind. Then it had suddenly presented itself when Alniss and the others had decided to go to the beach that morning: Kalran had still been asleep, and after some discussion the Yeerks decided not to disturb her, opting instead to leave a note to invite her to join them later. Carla had a slight cold, and had made this out to be a little worse than it was, using it as an excuse to stay at home. Much as it pained her to separate herself from Alniss, and especially to tell another lie, she couldn't do what she was hoping to with an audience.

Reaching zero in her mental countdown, she decided it was safe enough to get out of bed; the others had definitely left. Her bare feet digging into the soft carpet, she made her way to Kalran's room. The door was still shut, but it was gone eleven: surely the Yeerk had to be awake by now? It was a Saturday, but Kalran'd been in bed by half ten the night before despite that. Carla raised her hand and tapped a few times on the painted wood.

Nothing.

She tried again. Still no sound. It was only on the third attempt she heard stirring, and not until the fifth did the door actually open. When it did, Carla immediately reassessed her decision on the acceptability of knocking at this time.

Kalran looked awful. Dark circles hung beneath her tired, anxious eyes; her hair was a mess, as though she'd just woken up, and... what was that smell? Carla sniffed the air slightly for confirmation, certain she must have been mistaken at first, but no: alcohol, gin if she wasn't much mistaken, and lots of it.

"Have- have you been drinking?" Carla asked, the shock making her tone more accusatory than she meant it to be.

Kalran immediately looked guilty, making her expression even more miserable than it had been a few moments ago. "Oh, Carla, I'm so sorry. I should have thought about how that would make you feel."

Carla noticed the Yeerk was blinking rapidly, her eyes averted from the bright light streaming into the hallway. "Hey, it's okay," Carla said, making her voice as gentle as she could now she'd recovered from the initial shock. "I know you didn't do it to upset me."

Kalran shook her head, looking desperate. "It... it's not like... it's only when I'm not working the next day, and I wait until Hallim's asleep. I can control it. You don't need to worry."

That didn't help assuage Carla's concern in the slightest, but she opted instead to say simply: "I'll get you a black coffee. Might help you feel better. You head on back to bed, I'll be through in a minute."

"You... you don't have to," Kalran murmured.

"I want to."

When Carla returned, a steaming cup of coffee in each hand, Kalran was sitting up in bed, looking slightly more comfortable in the dimmer light of the bedroom. "Thank you, Carla," she murmured, taking the cup and wrapping her hands around it, clearly finding comfort in the warmth.

Perching on the edge of the bed, Carla took a sip from her own cup. She'd stopped in her bedroom to pick up a magazine: opening it, she began to leaf through the pages, pretending to read but in reality keeping her attention on Kalran. She wasn't going to force the Yeerk to talk if she didn't want to, but neither was she leaving her on her own.

"I'm sorry," Kalran said eventually.

"You don't need to apologise," Carla replied, looking up from the page. "You really don't."

"I... I promise it isn't as bad as it looks. It's only occasionally, at the weekends, when I can't sleep."

Carla vaguely remembered making similar excuses to herself, and didn't believe them for a second, but she stayed silent, making a non-committal noise that she hoped would encourage Kalran to continue.

"I... sometimes I just..." Kalran began, then trailed off, shaking her head. "I shouldn't burden you with this. It's not right."

Carla frowned slightly. "We're friends, aren't we? Friends help each other out. Please don't tell me you're gonna start with the whole Yeerks should help hosts not the other way around thing, because I'm pretty sure that's an Empire idea."

Kalran's mouth curled up very slightly at the corners: it wasn't quite a smile, but it was better than the blank expression she'd been wearing when Carla had opened the door. "Yes, I imagine it is."

Watching Kalran, Carla waited again.

"It... it's just... I feel..." Kalran hesitated again, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I miss them so much... Oglud and Ilkiss... and I... I wonder if I did the right thing, what we accomplished... there are so many dead now and I... the permanent morphing sounded so good at first but now..."

She trailed off again, her eyes cast down, staring at her coffee cup as though she expected to find the words she wanted hidden in its depths.

"Now?" Carla said after a few moments, when it was clear no more was forthcoming.

"I... this sounds so ungrateful..." Kalran trailed off again, looking up at her.

"I'm not going to judge you," Carla said softly, reaching out to touch the Yeerk's hand where it rested on the cup.

Kalran uncurled her hand from the warmth of the mug, letting her fingers wrap around Carla's instead. As though this contact replaced the link between their eyes, she let her gaze drop to the bedspread again.

"I miss my... my body. My Yeerk body."

Carla squeezed her hand gently. "Of course you do."

Kalran shook her head. "It doesn't make sense. All that time I... before I was part of the peace movement... fighting to have eyes and hands and legs, and now I have them I... I don't even appreciate them. And my Oglud, they, they must want so much to have what I have and I'm not even happy."

"I'm sorry." Carla ran her thumb along the back of Kalran's hand. "You can't help how you feel, though. You really don't need to feel guilty."

Kalran nodded slowly, looking down at their clasped hands. "I'm okay most of the time," she said softly. "It just all got a bit too much for me last night."

Carla felt her stomach twist: the thought of Kalran sitting there, alone with a bottle, too miserable to sleep... it would have been too much to bear even if the image was new to Carla, but it wasn't. It reminded her terrifyingly of her own past.

"Next time wake me up, hey," Carla murmured, struggling to hide her own wave of emotion as she patted Kalran's hand. "Or wake someone up: Hallim, me, Ilkiss, Sara, whoever. Talk about it. Trust me, it's better than drinking."

"I'm so sorry," Kalran said instantly. "I never meant for you to find out."

"I know. I'm glad I have, though. Kalran... have you ever thought about getting some help?"

There was silence for a while, and Carla began to wonder if she'd said the wrong thing.

"I... I'm not sure I can face that," Kalran admitted eventually. "Besides, I'd have to find someone who would help a Yeerk."

"I could help you look for someone?"

Kalran gave a small smile. "Thank you."

There was silence for a few minutes, the two of them continuing to clasp hands, taking a few sips of coffee. Eventually, Kalran said, with slightly more energy: "You're good at this, you know. Listening, that is."

Surprised, Carla replied: "Really? I don't think so. I... I don't really know what to say." She looked back across at Kalran: she'd begun to let her eyes stray, as Kalran had seemed to want to sit in silence. "I wish I could just make it better for you."

"You are." Kalran looked back up at her, meeting her eyes. "I feel a little better, just for talking."

"I'm here anytime. 3 am, even... just wake me up, or call me. Promise me you won't try and deal with it on your own."

Kalran nodded. "I promise."

That had been easier than Carla was expecting: she could only hope the promise was genuine. "And..." she trailed off, uncertain. She wasn't sure whether saying this might make things worse, but she had to try. She kept being haunted by images of Kalran's health going downhill, and she knew exactly how hard it could be to come back from that.

"And?" Kalran looked at her. Despite the dull blankness in the Yeerk's eyes, Carla could see she was trying to look encouraging.

"I'd like it if you'd at least think about, y'know. Getting some proper help."

There were a few seconds of silence, and Carla tensed, worried she'd gone too far.

"Yes," Kalran said eventually. "I should, really."

Relief flowed over Carla's body, relaxing muscles she hadn't even realised she'd tensed. "I'll help. In any way I can."

"Hold me to it?" Kalran's eyes bored deeply into Carla's: tears glistened at the corners of them. "I'm going to try and convince myself I don't need help, I know I am... or wriggle out of it somehow. Can... can you..."

"Sure." Letting go of Kalran's hand, Carla opened her arms. "Can I give you a hug?"

"I..." Kalran hesitated. "I haven't had a shower yet."

Carla shook her head dismissively, reaching across to wrap her arms around her friend. "I think I can cope. I used to regularly shove my head in Pool sludge."

Carla didn't expect a laugh, but Kalran made a slight noise of amusement as she relaxed against her shoulder. They sat in silence for a while, during which Carla could feel Kalran's muscles slowly relaxing.

"What were you here for, anyway?" Kalran murmured eventually, pulling back a little. "Did you need something?"

"It doesn't matter," Carla replied, shaking her head slightly.

"It does," Kalran said, with more emphasis. "I'm sorry... I've got in the way of whatever it was you needed."

"I think you kind of matter more, right now," Carla pointed out. "It wasn't important." Part of her was glad of the excuse to back out: she'd been trying to find an opportunity for weeks, that was true, but she was dreading this at the same time. If she hadn't been, an opportunity might have presented itself sooner: she'd have been willing to take more risks. If she was honest with herself, she'd backed out several times before now. "It's fine."

Kalran was watching her searchingly. "Carla, please don't be angry if I'm wrong, but... is it the letter?"

Carla froze. Staring at Kalran, she managed to whisper: "How- how do you know?"

Kalran did not answer. Silently, she crossed to the battered wooden dresser and opened a drawer, which she rummaged in for a moment. She pulled out an envelope, still relatively pristine considering the time it had spent hidden beneath Kalran's clothes, and trod softly back over to the bed.

Carla stared at the envelope Kalran had placed in front of her. Her hand twitched, half-reaching out to touch it before curling back to her side. Eventually, she looked up at Kalran. "Will you read it?"

Kalran frowned. "Really? You want me to? Are you sure?"

Hesitating, Carla looked down, biting her lip. She wasn't sure what was in there, and Kalran's mental state could hardly stand up to being forced to read out an abusive string of sentences, if that's what the letter was. "Never mind. I'll do it."

"Would you like some privacy? Or should I stay?"

Again Carla hesitated. Studying her friend, she tried to gauge which would be easier for Kalran. She wanted her to stay, but if the letter was bad... "I don't want to upset you," she murmured eventually. "Whichever you want to do."

"I'm sure I can cope with either," Kalran replied, her voice dropping back to its blank flatness. "Even I'm not that weak."

"You're not weak," Carla said gently. "In that case... would you stay?"

Kalran nodded. "Yes, of course." She looked slightly guilty. "I'm sorry... I'm making this about me again."

"That's okay."

They sat in silence for a few moments. A few times, Carla reached out towards the envelope, before chickening out and withdrawing. Carla could feel her cheeks flushing, whether it was embarrassment or the warmth of that hot morning she wasn't sure. Probably both.

Eventually, Carla gathered sufficient courage to lift the envelope up and turn it over. Acting as quickly as she could, before she could talk herself out of it, she slit the envelope open.

A single sheet of lined paper fell onto the soft, pink cover of Kalran's bed. It was covered in blue writing, crammed onto the lines and, on the second side, curling around the bottom and back up the margin of the page. Squinting to make out the messy handwriting, Carla began to read.

Dear Carla,

Hope you're OK. I'm not really sure what I want to say here: this is already my fourth go at writing this, and no doubt this one will end up in the bin too. But maybe eventually I'll write something that makes enough sense to make it to you.

I just wanted you to know it's okay. You looked so scared on the bus that day, and you really didn't need to be: I'm not going to do you any harm. I guess there's no reason you should just take that on trust, though... oh, fine, I swear on my little sister's life I won't hurt you. If you're still in touch with Silrin, ask her if I would say that and not mean it. She knows.

Anyway, I also wanted to say thank you for helping out with the campaign. Although on second thoughts maybe I shouldn't say that: I don't know if you've decided to help or not. I'd write yet another letter to correct my mistake, but I've got to stop at some point. Besides, I've only got post-its left. Well, thanks for considering helping, anyway: you probably have at least thought about it if you're reading this.

I hope we can meet sometime. If you do decide to help us, it'll be best if we can coordinate and work together. But even if you don't join the campaign, it'd be nice to just talk. Not about the war or anything, not if you don't want. I promise, I'm not angry with you or anything, and I won't hurt you. Well, I said that already.

I hope you're okay and... well, thanks for reading this. I imagine it wasn't easy.

Elsa.

Carla stared at the page for a few seconds after she'd finished reading, her shock giving way to pain as her eyes filled with tears. After a moment, she felt a gentle hand on her arm.

"What is it? You're upset."

Carla looked up to meet Kalran's eyes, which were fixed concernedly on her face. "She... she doesn't know..."

Frowning, Kalran asked: "Doesn't know what?"

"She doesn't know..." Carla took a breath. "She doesn't know Silrin's dead."

Kalran looked puzzled for a second, then thoughtful, before her expression turned to one of sympathy. "I'm sorry, I'd forgotten... she didn't when that letter was written, but she does now. I... I let it slip. I hadn't realised either, that she didn't know."

Carla took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. After a few moments, she heard Kalran speak again.

"Was... was the rest of it all right?"

Carla nodded slowly. "As... as far as I can tell. But she could be lying."

"I doubt that very much," Kalran said softly.

Carla felt anger flare suddenly within her, but forced it down as much as she could in view of Kalran's emotional state. "Why would she want to be kind to me?"

"You'll have to ask her that, I'm afraid. If you ever do decide to see her."