AN: Proceed with caution. Mentions of hereditary mental illnesses, dementia and a fear of commiting suicide.

Vinny was hungover. She thought she'd been careful enough to avoid this unfortunate occurrence, but it would seem that was not the case. Her head spinning she stumbled to the kitchen and prised open the fridge before deciding she wasn't the least bit hungry at the moment. She'd had a nightmare about being buried alive in the woods behind her new house and woken up gasping for air. Feeling more endangered than ever, Vinny got out her phone and tried to call Clove.

It went to voicemail and Vinny sighed. Maybe Clove had forgotten she was supposed to visit. It wouldn't be the first time and probably wouldn't be the last either. She put this idea on hold and checked her pantry before realizing she wasn't nearly well enough stocked for the series of local meals she was planning to make. Vinny sighed again and pulled out a notepad, taking a seat at the kitchen island as she got to work preparing a meal plan for the week. She thought of the dream she'd had of being buried alive, then of one from earlier in the week where she bled to death.

Suddenly completely put off, Vinny put down her grocery list and scooted back from the bar. I feel trapped. That's what this airless feeling is. Why trapped, though? I've gotten out plenty before now. Vinny trudged to the bathroom to brush her teeth, slowly tracing every movement in the mirror. Left, right, left, right. Each nerve in her body was on edge as every instinct within her screamed and cried out at the possibility of danger. Thoroughly unnerved, Vinny bent to take a sip of water from the tap and spit it out before seeing the shower curtain flutter in the bathroom mirror.

She wanted to leave then and there. Exit the bathroom, leave the house, get in her car and drive away. But Vinny couldn't do any of these things because there on her otherwise pristine bath mat were two muddy, feminine footprints. They were bare, and the print on the right was missing its middle toe. Wait a minute...She wouldn't...Would she? Clove was missing the same exact digit from an accident involving a sports bike when they were kids. Vinny relaxed, crossing her arms as she glared at the quivering shower curtain. "This isn't funny Clove." Her breath came out in a visible huff when she panted her frustration.

When did it get so cold? Vinny pulled back the shower curtain when Clove decided not to answer and her stomach rose up into her throat as she struggled to vomit, not vomit, and scream all at the same time. Clove stood in the shower, both facing Vinny and not at the same time. Her neck was twisted at an impossible angle that meant she stared at the wall and her skin was mottled like a corpse Clove was absolutely covered in clumps of wet dirt. Vinny swallowed hard, not sure how to reconcile what she was seeing before she took a few steps back and gently closed the door, leaving the apparition of horror behind it.

She numbly walked to the living room and out the front door, sitting on the steps of her porch. Schizophrenia is hereditary on my side and on your nonna's...well she isn't the first with dementia. Promise me you'll get tested when you have time between classes, dear. Vinny had promised her mother and hung up, not giving it much of a thought as she was too busy crying over her nonna's sudden death that day. The thing in the shower seemed so real to Vinny...so scarily real and there was no denying it was sort of crazy, the amount of witchcraft paraphernalia she'd found in nonna's things.

I... I'm a danger to myself. Vinny thought. I'm deluding myself just like nonna was when she said she was fine living on her own. Well, I don't want to be found dead by my own hands a week after I've taken my own life. Mind made up, Vinny called the number of a nearby hospital and spoke softly into the receiving end of her phone. "Hello. I... think I need to be admitted to the psych ward for a while. I'm pretty sure I'm having a psychotic episode and my nonna had dementia. Please...send help. I'm scared."

x

It didn't long for the ambulances to arrive as Vinny sat shivering on her front steps. Clove had never shown up to look at her grandmother's grimoire. She'd never sent a text to say she'd changed or mind or would be delayed. Is she alright? I...I want to believe she's alright. This is just my brain being subconsciously worried and the possible dementia latching on. Hearing the gravel on her driveway crunching she stood slowly hands balled at her sides but in clear view to show she wasn't armed. It wasn't ambulances. It wasn't even multiple vehicles. A man opened the passenger side door and made eye contact with Vinny.

He wore a suit and tie and when he got out of the car, Vinny saw an attractive blonde woman in the driver's seat. The door closed and he began to slowly approach. "Where are the paramedics?" Vinny asked, backing up a step so she was on the porch and could grab the doorknob at any moment. "I sent for an ambulance. I'm...I might be dangerous to myself and others right now."

"I truly doubt that, Vincent." The man's voice remained soft. "Can I sit on the steps with you?"

She nodded imperceptibly, even if she felt immediate alarm he knew her full name. I'm registered as Vinny. How would he know I was named for my nonno? "You're not crazy, you know." The voice continued softly. "You saw a ghost, right?" Vinny's confusion deepened and began to turn torward a sour fear. "Well, that happens a lot here. It's New Orleans, after all. The place is steeped in centuries of tragedy."

Vinny just listened, numbly trying to make any sense of anything at all. "If you truly feel endangered, I know someone who can help you."

"I'm having a mental health break, but I'm not a damn child." Vinny finally let her suspicious feelings speak for her. "You don't look anything like a doctor. And this sure isn't...behaving like one. I know what stranger danger is."

"But I am. I studied medicine for a woman I still Iove, a long time ago." There was a ghost of a smile on his face and it brought the barest bit of an oddly familiar comfort with it. He scooted closer to show her a license. Something deep inside Vinny nodded. That looks right. I don't know how I know it, but that's a legitimate form of identification. Sitting this close to him now, when Vinny opened her mouth to reply a scent hit the back of her throat so strongly she almost moaned instead. Old books, a burning fire, a vase of roses.

"Fine." Vinny said in a weak little croak, caught off guard as she was. "Who is the someone who can help?"

"An old friend. Just stay with him for a while and he'll prove you aren't as crazy as you feel. He is an alpha, but he's semi-involved so you needn't worry." Vinny was too tired to explain that she was a beta. There's something else. Smells...

Dizzy from the headiness of the doctor's scent and the whirling pain of seeing her mangled childhood friend, Vinny just nodded leaning in closer. Closer. Smells so good. "What's your name, doctor?" He leaned back, away from her. Shit. That's right. He loves someone. Why did I...?

"It's alright, Vincent." The man reassured her. "You can call me Elijah. Come with me now, dear."