Among the Deepening Shades: Chapter Four

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Four

Annie felt stifled in their new house. She’d been hiding there for a month and she thought she might scream if she kept looking at that stupid mural wall that had made her so happy the night she’d gotten back. She might as well go out and explore Barry since it seemed unlikely she was ever going to be able to live in her dear little pink house again. Owen’s parents had probably sold it by now. She wondered about her safety sometimes. Mitchell had said the house was what bound her to life. Well, that and him and George. She wasn’t feeling very connected to either of them at the moment. Why did she feel so solid? She still couldn’t be seen by humans. She should have asked Lia about that.

It seemed like every time she got a handle on being dead, something happened to shut down her equilibrium. It was very annoying. Everything was slightly different. Her senses were sharper somehow, like she was almost having psychosomatic physical responses. Her poltergeist powers were back and stronger than ever but she was having difficulty controlling them. Her emotions were over the top all the time, and that made it harder.

She liked the sensation, though, for some reason. Every time she managed to make something happen it was like she was restoring a bit of order back into her life. Besides, it was quite clear that without her things had gone to hell. Mitchell was wandering around the house like…a ghost, George was moping, Nina was seething. They’d moved to Wales! Clearly, Annie was needed to put them all back together again. Now that she was feeling slightly more secure, it was definitely up to her to figure out what to do. Somehow, Lia’s little ghost call had jolted Annie back from whatever limbo she’d placed herself in. Instead of being scared and angry all the time, she was simply determined. Things were terrible around her, so she was going to fix them.

Barry wasn’t that bad, though. The sea was lovely and her nightly prowls were quickly serving to make her very acquainted with the town. She enjoyed being by herself, feeling like for once she was taking control of her existence. She still wasn’t sure what to do about Mitchell and she was angry and hurt, but the more the days passed, the harder it was to maintain the righteous anger she’d felt. She didn’t want to become desensitized to the atrocities he’d committed, she never wanted that. But she missed him.

She hated him for making her life like this. She was going to hate him forever. Most days she was going to hate him forever. In her more logical moments she realized that out of the four people she’d aligned herself with, Mitchell was the one with immortality. Eventually George and Nina would be gone and then what would Annie do if she shunned Mitchell? Could she be as selfish as that? To put aside those people’s lives because she was lonely? Then again…Mitchell might die soon. Annie refused to think about that for the most part. She couldn’t let it influence her feelings and the need to make a decision about forgiving him or not.

She thought about it on her walks. At least she thought about it when she wasn’t being accosted by drunk girls who happened to be dead and who happened to look like they were rotting from the inside out.

Annie ran, completely forgetting how to do anything but that, all the way home. When she reached the bed and breakfast she rent-a-ghosted inside, once she remembered she could, surprising George and Mitchell in the living room.

She didn’t even stop to think about how to react to Mitchell, she hadn’t talked to him properly in weeks, but right now there were other things on her mind.

"Guys, I'm in trouble. There's a dead woman after me."

"What happened?” asked Mitchell, standing up, looking awkward. “Are you okay?"

Annie answered in a rush.

"I was walking past this club, anyway, this dead woman got thrown out of the club, but-but she could see me." A banging sounded on the front door. "And she followed me home."

"Why didn't you just rent-a-ghost home?" asked Mitchell.

She wasn’t in the mood for him to act superior.

"Well, that would be, that would be…because I was under a lot of pressure, okay!"

Mitchell moved out to look through the door.

George got up, looking weary.

"I just got up for a pee.”

"I know you're in there. Snobby cow!" yelled the woman from outside.

"What have we got?" asked George, moving to join Mitchell.

"A drunk, dead woman. Shouting," replied Mitchell.

"That's not a ghost, I can smell her," said George, suddenly sniffing the air and wrinkling his nose.

"What? From here?" asked Mitchell.

"Oh yeah, even without the whole wolf thing."

"Well, of course you can smell her. She's got a body," Annie said. They looked at her. "I'm sure I mentioned that."

"So she's dead, but she's got a body,” said Mitchell as if trying to work that out in his head.

"She's rotting," said George in disgust.

"This is not good," said Mitchell.

"That's why I was so scared,” said Annie. “If she was just dead dead, no problem, but that is just weird."

"Hold on, hold on a second here. I think she's gone,” whispered Mitchell.

He crept toward the door. Annie and George waited behind. Slowly Mitchell pulled open the door, letting the chain slide to its full length.

Suddenly the woman screeched and sprang at the door.

George and Annie shrieked and Mitchell yelled, slamming the door shut.

"I thought we were supposed to be the scary ones,” George said, once he’d stopped looking like he was having a heart attack.

"Cars are slowing down. I think people can see her!" said Mitchell, his voice rising in panic.

"Well, of course they can see her, she's. Got. A. Body!" Annie said, grabbing the wall and jerking toward it for emphasis.

"Well, we've got to let her in," said Mitchell.

"What!" asked George and Annie in unison.

"We have a shouting, pissed corpse on our doorstep!"

"Right, and you want a shouting, pissed corpse inside?" asked George.

"She's gonna draw attention to the house, to us,” said Mitchell, sounding annoyed. “What if someone calls the police, huh?"

“Oh, yes, not the police,” said Annie. “We wouldn’t want anyone to actually pay for their crimes, would we?”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Mitchell. “If I ever turned myself in, I certainly would do it far away from the rest of you.”

Annie stopped and looked at him, forgetting about the corpse for a second. He wasn’t looking at her, pressed against the door.

“It would be a bad thing if the cops showed up, Annie,” said George.

"Well, she stopped shouting," said Mitchell.

"What's she doing now?" asked George.

"Crying. I think. And then…just sitting. But she's still quite loud."

"She stinks," said George.

Annie sighed and moved to open the door. Cautiously she stuck her head out and then tip toed out to the sobbing dead woman.

“Um, um, would you like some tea?"

Pretty much Annie’s default solution for any situation, but what else could she do? Mitchell had made his case well and Annie had been the one to bring this problem home.

The woman beamed and practically ran into the house. George turned away to keep his gagging from showing. They sat her down in the front room. George and Mitchell sat on the sofa facing her. She was wearing what looked like hospital scrubs, wrapped around her in a sarong style, her shoes were too big for her and clearly displayed her rotting toes.

It didn’t take long for Nina to come downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. Instantly she put her hand to her nose, sat down next to Mitchell on the couch, and delicately asked a question.

"George?"

"Dead woman,” whispered George. “With a body. Followed Annie home."

Nina nodded.

“Of course.”

"So then, what do we call you?" asked Mitchell to the dead woman.

"Anything you like, sweetheart," she said with such a grotesque parody of flirtation that it was obvious George was about to be sick and not just from the smell.

Mitchell seemed to do his best to smile politely. Annie felt an irrational spike of anger but pushed it down.

"Well, um, I'm Mitchell," he said, holding his hand out.

"Hi, Mitchell. I'm Sasha,” she said, jerking upright like a puppet on strings, extending a hand. “Like the Beyonce album."

Mitchell took her hand gingerly.

"I'm, I'm Nina," Nina said, standing up.

"My gran was called Nina!” said Sasha. “Oh, aren't you short?"

"Um, that's a beautiful dress, Sasha,” George interrupted quickly, “what a wonderful cut. Have you, um, been to hospital recently?"

"Okay, confession time!” said Sasha like she was playing a game at a slumber party. “I was involved in a car accident. But, um, it wasn't my fault. I mean, I was texting while I was driving but that's not the same as making a phone call. In my Beamer,” she said sitting down and looking at Mitchell again. “Prussian Blue. Heated seats, all the extras. I love my little extras," she said, drawing out her words.

Annie had had enough of that. Mitchell didn’t need anyone idolizing him, thank you very much.

"So you died, did you?" asked Annie sharply.

"Uh, no, I mean, obviously I didn't,” said Sasha like Annie was some kind of mental case. “But, apparently, it was touch and go. Oh, and let me tell you, the doctors were very interested in me. Wouldn't leave me alone, kept on prodding and poking me."

“Uh huh,” said George and began jerking his head toward the kitchen.

“Someone has to stay with her,” mouthed Annie behind Sasha.

“You,” mouthed George.

Annie glared at him but nodded.

The other three went into the kitchen and she was left to sit with the corpse.

***

"I think someone's in denial," said George as soon as he and Mitchell and Nina were in the kitchen.

"Mitchell, what the hell is she?" asked Nina.

"How should I know?" he asked.

“What’s the use of you if you don’t know these things?” Nina asked.

"Well, what are we going to do with her?" asked George hastily.

"Didn‘t you say the mortuary was closed at the hospital? Well, evidently they were experimenting on zombies,” said Mitchell, sighing. “I don’t know what she is, she shouldn’t be at all. All I know is that people can see her and she's rotten. We should just take her back to the hospital, it's clearly their problem, not our problem," said Mitchell, folding his arms.

"I hate to say it, but I agree,” said Nina thoughtfully. George and Mitchell turned to stare at her. It was rather a first. "Well, medically we can't do anything for her here, if anyone can help her, they'll be at the hospital."

“Who’s going to get Annie to agree?” asked George.

They all stared again.

***

“Sorry for shouting at ya earlier,” said Sasha. “All I wanted was some liquid courage afore I went home.”

“Home?” asked Annie, horrified at the idea.

“Yeah, to see my fella. He must be missing me something fierce. You got a mirror?”

Sasha had now taken off her shoes and set them on the table and was picking at her toes.

Annie gingerly picked the shoes up and moved them off the table, grasping at the piece of paper inside; the piece of paper that was the tag from her toe and was covered in bodily fluids of some kind.

“No, no mirrors here,” said Annie. “Mitchell doesn’t like them.”

"So, what's Mitchell's story. Is he single?"

Another irrational surge of anger welled up in Annie. Thankfully Nina exited the kitchen, her arm over her mouth and nose, and gestured for Annie to go into the kitchen.

She gratefully walked into the other room and leaned against the counter.

"She has got to go!"

"Wow, that was easy," said George.

"Yeah, we thought we'd have to persuade you,” said Mitchell. “What with you both being dead and all."

“Yeah, well, you’re dead too, and that doesn’t mean anything,” said Annie.

Mitchell looked away.

“Annie, our present problem,” prompted George.

“She may well be dead, but that is pretty much all I have in common with…that," said Annie.

"Great, well, then that's settled,” said George. “I'll leave it all in your capable hands. I'm going back to bed."

"What do you mean?" asked Mitchell, sounding panicked.

"Well, Annie's invisible to humans and you can't be seen on CCTV, I think you can manage to sneak one zombie into the mortuary. So I'm going to take my lady friend back to bed. The two of you will just have to work together."

“George,” said Annie.

“Annie, I’m going to drop dead,” said George. “Besides, I’m sick of this,” he said, gesturing between the two of them, “thing. You just need to make up your mind or something. I’m administering the time honored ‘forced to be together’ remedy. Now behave like mature adults and go take care of our zombie friend.”

Annie groaned and some of the cupboards began banging open.

George left with his arm over his mouth and grabbed Nina by the hand and they went upstairs.

Mitchell and Annie pointedly looked away from each other and at Sasha, who was painfully obvious in the way she was trying to display her mottled legs to Mitchell’s sight.

"What's that?" Mitchell finally asked, spying the tag Annie was playing with.

"It's the tag from her toe,” Annie said crisply. Mitchell held out his hand and she slapped it in his palm. “So how are we going to convince her to go back to the hospital?"

"We're not," Mitchell said, staring at the tag.

"What?"

"Check out the date and time of death," said Mitchell. Annie leaned over and her eyes widened. "Let's pay a visit to the morgue."

***

George looked in the mirror one last time before washing his hands and throwing the towel in the laundry bin. While he was bent over next to the rubbish bin he saw something that he didn’t immediately understand.

Holding the offending object in his hands he numbly walked back to his room where Nina was shrouding herself in lotion, presumably to mask the hideous odor still floating in the house.

"Nina,” he said stupidly. “Nina, is this yours?” Nina looked up and her face paled but George kept rambling anyway. “I mean, I thought it can't be Mitchell's because he's a man and it can't be Annie's because she's dead and it can't be Nina's because she's on the pill. You're on the pill.” He started speaking faster, the haziness lifting and the panic setting in. “Why would you be needing a pregnancy test? Are you late? When were you thinking about telling me?"

"I was looking for the right moment,” she said feebly.

"Okay, well, I'm not busy now. Are you busy now?"

"Fine! I'm pregnant."

"But you're on the pill!" he protested, unable to take his mind away from this single concept.

"Yes, I am, but, George, you do know there’s no absolutely one hundred percent way to avoid pregnancy, right?”

“But it’s the pill,” he said again.

Nina sighed and attempted another track.

“We had sex when we weren't exactly ourselves and, apparently, the pill
wasn't designed with werewolves in mind."

George didn’t have an answer for that until something else occurred to him as he twirled the test in his fingers absently.

"Well, you know these tests can be wrong."

"I've done three tests. I'm pregnant, George.” His mind repeated her words and the first glimmer of joy began to peak through until she started speaking again. “It's happening. Or rather it's not. I can't, I can't…I can't let this go any further. I'm sorry."

She sat down on the bed and he hastened to catch up to what she was saying. She clearly wasn’t happy, she’d looked guilty when he’d showed her the test, and she wasn’t looking at him now.

"Okay, so, um, let me get this straight. If I hadn't have found this, would you just have had an abortion without telling me?"

"No,” she said. “I was planning-"

"You were just going to do it, weren't you?” His voice rose. “No discussion, no nothing!"

"Don't you dare judge me!” she said harshly. “This isn't some, this isn't some teenage mistake, George; this is a child of monsters. I mean, who even knows what it could be? Just the idea is…terrifying!"

"It could be fine,” he protested. “We're both fine…most of the time."

"It's my body, George," she said, staring straight ahead, as if that was the ultimate argument.

Normally he’d agree with her, normally he wouldn’t have any problem with her doing whatever the hell she wanted, but she was wrong in this instance.

"Yeah, well, part of it isn't."

"Excuse me?" she asked, murder in her eyes.

"There's part of me in there and as the father I have just as much right as you to decide what happens to our child."

“I don’t believe this,” Nina said, getting up and stalking closer to him. “After everything, you’re one of those men?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he said. “I would never try to tell you what to do with yourself, but it’s not just yourself. There’s such a double standard held in this area. Guy doesn’t want to be involved, he’s the scum of the earth, guy does want to be involved, and he’s a controlling wanker.”

“Right now I’m not seeing the distinction.”

“Nina, what’s the matter? There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, examining her white face and skittish eyes.

“Oh, you’d like that, you’d like for there to be some dark secret you could fix, wouldn’t you?”

“Who said anything about dark secrets?” George asked, confused now. “Nina, you’re not acting rationally.”

“Well, I guess I’m just hormonal,” she threw back at him.

“Nina, don’t, just don’t do something like this without talking to me. I’m begging you,” he said.

“I get to decide this,” she said, her voice trembling.

His exhaustion caught up with him and his anger welled. This was officially one of the worst nights in the world and he couldn’t deal with it anymore.

“I never thought you could be so selfish,” he said, grabbing a blanket and walking toward the door. A pillow hit him in the back of the head as he left. George flung open the door to Annie’s room and threw his things down on the floor. “I only got up for a pee,” he grumbled, before flopping down, trying to get some rest.

Rest didn’t come easily. His conflicting emotions were up and down faster than he could handle. He was angry with Nina, feeling possessive for reasons he couldn’t even understand. But he was happy too, happy at the thought of becoming a father, at having a son or daughter just like he’d always wanted, at the prospect of being with Nina and raising a family. He was confused about why Nina was reacting like this and stayed awake too long, trying to think of ways to convince her not to go through with her plans. The lengths he was somehow willing to go to accomplish that were a little frightening. What was the matter with him? What was the matter with her? Why was this happening in the first place? She was on the pill!

***

The silence was rife with tension on the way to the morgue. Mitchell was surprised Annie didn’t just rent-a-ghost ahead of him to avoid his company. But she was jumpy and nervous, so maybe even his company was better than waiting there alone.

To be honest it was a relief to be with her again. The last month had been agony, like living all his hundred years over again, waiting for Annie. She brought a light into his life like no one had ever done. When he was away from her, and sometimes he’d done it deliberately, he always felt more inclined to fall back into his old ways.

But old ways or not he’d avoided her just as much as she’d avoided him lately. It was really the only thing he could do. They were pretty much stuck living together and Nina had practically forbidden him to leave the house, but it was surprisingly easy to find places away from everyone, brooding in the basement, brooding in the attic, brooding in the backyard. Yes, he was brooding, and likely to continue doing so. His recent crimes, his shame at being found out by his friends, his almost self-enforced house arrest, and the fabled Sword of Damocles hanging over his head were doing nothing for his mood.

The only control or method of redemption he appeared to have left was giving Annie the space she required. It had earned Nina’s approval at least, though George was obviously desperate for the two of them to make up. Mitchell had to pick his battles. Besides, he was teetering on the edge of the end of the physical withdrawal symptoms and having something to concentrate on, like making Annie feel better, was helping him get through it.

Annie stuck close to him as they broke into the morgue and Mitchell rather bitterly inwardly commented about how property damage was apparently an acceptable way to break the law.

Behind the tape in the inner part of the morgue Mitchell found what he was looking for. Annie clung to her flashlight, repeating to herself.

"I'm already dead, I'm already dead, I'm already dead, I'm already dead."

She pointed to an overhead bin without breaking her litany, shying away from a rather grisly looking surgical instrument, lying dirty on a table.

"Bingo." Mitchell rummaged through the reports inside the evidence bag he’d pulled down. "I don't think it was just Sasha.” Annie took the video camera from the bag and sat down across from him. He heard her start up the footage. “There are four subject sheets here. All came back to life, all at the same time. I think they were testing them, trying to find out what they were, how they worked, if it could spread. I think they were scared."

"I know the feeling,” she finally answered, her voice wobbly. “Did it say anything about anesthetic in that?"

"Yeah.” He skimmed back through the report. “Anesthetic ineffective. How did you know?"

"They did it anyway,” she said, showing him with shaking hands the graphic scenes on the camera. “What did they do…with them afterwards?"

"They incinerated them,” he said slowly. “As a biohazard."

"Were they still alive? When they burnt them?"

"I don't know."

She dropped the camera and moved away, because she noticed how close she was to him or because she was upset over their findings, he couldn’t tell.

"Well, it doesn't really matter anyway, does it?” she rambled, her tone becoming bitter and louder. “Because they weren't really alive anyway. The dead don't feel real pain."

By the end her voice was practically screaming and with a loud burst of sound everything in the lab exploded. Mitchell dove for the ground and barely missed a cleaver to the chest. Bits of glass and metal rained down on his head and he ducked under the counter, covering his head with his arms.

When silence finally fell and he dared to lift his head, Annie was gone. He sighed and sank back down, shaking his head in disbelief. That had been extremely violent and powerful and he wondered, not for the first time, exactly what she was capable of.

His first instinct was to go after her, try and help her somehow, but he didn’t think it was his right. He couldn’t help but be very afraid for her. Whatever she might think of him, he still loved her, more deeply than he’d known before she had rejected his friendship.

There wasn’t much point in trying to hide that they’d been in the lab. There was no way to trace it back to him or her and the damage that she’d just inflicted was more substantial than the busted locks he’d broken on their way in. He still did his best to make it look like a robbery, junkies in search of drugs, though the morgue definitely wasn’t the best place to find those.

Mitchell made his way home and quietly entered, trying not to notice Sasha’s smell still permeating the house, being dead certainly helped with that. He paused by the bar; Annie was standing over a sleeping Sasha, tucking a blanket over her. Something in Mitchell’s chest relaxed and he went up the stairs, falling into bed, exhausted.

It was awhile before he slept but sleep he did until George barged into his room the next morning demanding to know why Sasha was still there. Nina joined, hand over her mouth, being rather rude to George, Mitchell noticed sleepily, and that was all before Annie joined them, hissing at them to keep it down because Sasha could hear them.

“Oh, sure, come on in,” he said, spreading his hand sarcastically. “I guess we’re having a house meeting.”

He lay back, attempting to wake up while they all argued and Annie explained what they’d found the night before.

George said something about the way Sasha smelled and Annie almost growled at him.

"Don't be so deadist!"

"Excuse me?" he asked, letting his shirt fall from his face where he’d been protecting his nose.

"It's like racist but for dead people," Annie stumbled to say.

"Have you just spent the whole night just making up words?"

"No, I've spent the whole night watching footage of screaming people being dissected," said Annie.

The pain in her voice brought Mitchell wide awake and he spoke up.

"We owe her, George."

"We owe her? Why, why do we owe her?"

"She, all of them, came back to life while I was on the other side."

"Saving me," Annie said.

Nina shook her head, still holding her nose.

"So, hang on, what are we saying…that death's door was…engaged?"

"Her spirit couldn't pass over because of me," said Annie.

"We made her. We owe her, all of us do," Mitchell agreed.

“Thank you,” Annie said quietly before getting up and going downstairs.

Where, of course, Sasha had disappeared as Annie shouted back up the stairs.

Mitchell fell back onto his bed, drawing the covers over his head.

***

George spent the day while Nina was at work thinking.

He was still very angry with her and felt that she was being unreasonable but he was trying his best to put himself in her shoes. An unexpected pregnancy was scary enough let alone one that might involve giving birth to a werewolf. By the time she came home he was feeling more understanding now that the first shock was over and he’d had a chance to think about it.

He waited until she’d had time to change and then entered their bedroom. She was sitting in the chair, clearly still upset.

"Nina, I'm sorry,” he began, leaning against the closed door. She didn’t say anything or look up. “I really wish we were normal. I really wish we were just having a nice, normal argument about the pros and cons of unwanted pregnancy but we are not normal and maybe…"

"It's not always about the wolf, George," she said, her voice hoarse.

"So what are you saying?" he asked, truly confused now.

"I've got other stuff,” she said, gesturing to her head. “Old stuff…going on in my head. It's…it's not you."

"It's not you. It's me."

Well, wasn’t that just a fine way to put it?

"No,” she said. “It's becoming a mother and…all that means.” She took a deep breath and he watched her closely while she determinedly looked away from him. “See, um…my mum used to hit me. All the time. For my own good, you know, and she always reminded me that, um, I was a mistake, and, uh, I'd ruined her life and I was worthless and I would never amount to anything. She…she made me hate myself."

His heart broke and he remembered the time she’d shown her scars to him.

"You've, you've never said,” he said, moving closer.

"No, there's not really a good time to bring up that conversation,” she said, her voice irritated before she softened again. “See, this, this, this thing…inside me, whatever it is, it's a baby and I will become a mother, and that terrifies me more than anything about being a werewolf.” She sobbed slightly and then swallowed it in a self-deprecating laugh. “You see, I was, I was pretty messed up even before you scratched me."

He knelt down in front of her, touching her knees lightly.

"No, you're not.” He smiled as he spoke because he truly believed his words. “You are strong and you are beautiful. You are not in this alone, I will always be there."

Her shoulders lifted slightly but she shook her head.

"I'm sorry. It's not enough, George."

He could feel his face fall but he didn’t back away.

“It’s okay,” he said, trying to keep his disappointment from showing. This was not about him. She was hurting, his beloved Nina, and he had to be there for her. “I just don’t want the past to ruin an opportunity you might want later. Can you, will you accept that?”

She nodded, tears slipping down her face.

“I do, but, George, I’m so scared.”

“It’s okay,” he said, leaning forward, putting his arms around her. “Can you just not do anything for another week, think about it, and let me think about it?”

She nodded against his shoulder.

George slowly let out the breath he’d been holding and focused on the woman in his arms, trying his best not to worry about the future and help her feel safe in the present.

***

It was startling for Annie to realize how much she was invested in Sasha’s situation. Not only was Annie partly responsible for Sasha’s existence, but after what Annie had seen in the morgue, she wanted Sasha to be taken care of and Annie was determined to do it herself. She was also grateful to Mitchell for corroborating her story and for not mentioning what had happened in the morgue to the others and that just made her more confused about her feelings for him.

Annie wasn’t sure what had happened the night before except that she evidently needed to learn how to control herself, and that it might not be a good idea for her to be around people who could die when she was feeling emotional. She didn’t want to really analyze it because if she thought about it, it would remind her of how she felt finding out about Owen, about Purgatory, and about Kemp. Annie didn’t like how she felt when she thought about those things.

So instead she went after Sasha and found her terrorizing her old boyfriend, at which point even Sasha could no longer hold onto her denial and accepted the fact that she was dead.

Annie tried to do her best to comfort her. After all, Annie knew what it was like to wake up and realize that you could no longer have the life you wanted, that the rules had changed. To know the love of your life was no longer yours. Granted, that had actually been in Annie’s best interest, but the principle was the same.

The difference for Sasha was she still had a body. Annie wasn’t sure how that worked. But whatever happened, Annie’s initial revulsion was washed away by her natural compassion and the sickening realization on Sasha’s face.

“We’ve all had to deal with what we are,” said Annie. “You’re in good company.”

“You? A ghost?” said Sasha. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m just a leftover image of who I was,” said Annie. “Imagine never being able to change your clothes again. I’m lucky I was wearing this outfit when I died.”

“Well, I guess nothing’s perfect,” said Sasha. “Anyways…I can still change my clothes, right?”

She was still bummed so Annie tried to think of what they could do for her. A girly night out appeared to be the ticket. After a lot of groveling, Annie convinced Nina to come and to donate her makeup to the cause. Annie spent the day getting Sasha as ready as humanly possible.

In the end Annie was rather proud of her handiwork. It had been fun. Once Sasha stopped trying to put on airs there was a genuinely nice girl inside her rotting face. Annie enjoyed getting to know her. It had been so long since anyone besides her roommates had seen her that Annie had forgotten what it was like meeting new people.

Annie proudly presented Sasha to everyone and barely noticed how George still subtly covered his nose and Mitchell couldn’t help grimacing at Sasha’s caked on face. She did overhear Nina promise George she wouldn’t drink being: ‘the designated woman with a pulse.’

Annie also heard Mitchell wishing Nina good luck and Nina’s good-natured snort on the way out the door. It was odd, but the moment gave Annie pause. She’d always thought Nina and Mitchell would get on really well if they could get past Mitchell’s past. Considering it wasn’t really something Annie was dealing well with herself she didn’t blame Nina, but she still stored the thought away for future reference. There’d be plenty of time to fix everyone else once she knew what she herself wanted to do.

It was a good night for the most part. Nina was reluctant to dance until Annie dragged her onto the floor. It was so normal Annie almost forgot for a moment that no one could see her. Until people started to dance through her.

At least, it was a good night until Annie noticed Sasha had disappeared and Annie and Nina found her passed out on the floor, clearly unable to walk or function.

A blinding stab of fear passed through Annie but she wouldn’t let it control her. They got Sasha home as soon as they could and put her in the spare room. She was barely breathing now. Mitchell carried her in and put the covers over her while Nina got a bowl of water to try to bring some relief. None of them really knew what to do and there was no one they could go to for help. Annie felt helpless.

Mitchell looked like he wanted to comfort her but instead he said if she needed anything to let him know and went downstairs.

Annie sat all night by Sasha’s bedside before Nina came to relieve her in the morning. By that point Annie had decided that this wasn’t the end. She made a list of everything she thought they could use to help Sasha and was determined to make her better by any means necessary.

It wasn’t that simple when she went to present the news to everyone else because they looked at her like she was crazy when she asked for a wheelchair to get Sasha around.

“Annie,” Mitchell began.

“I know what you’re going to say, Mitchell, and I don’t want to hear it,” she said in the tone that had been getting him to back down for the last month. This time he wasn’t bowing to it, getting up from his chair and actually coming over to her and putting his arms around her. “What are you doing, I don’t want a hug,” she began to say, but then Mitchell was hugging her and it felt so right. She’d missed this so very very much and she was feeling so very sad. “Mitchell, stop,” she said after a glorious moment of letting him continue to hug her.

He pulled away immediately and didn’t look at her. She felt flustered for a second and then looked at Nina.

Nina was looking at her with something like pity and envy in her eyes. Annie wasn’t sure why.

“Did you just make up?” asked George hopefully.

“No,” snapped Annie. “I just…I guess I’ll just be here for Sasha when…”

She sat down and took Sasha’s sticky hand and turned her back on everyone else.

“I’ll come back after work,” Nina whispered as she left the room.

Annie spent the day with Sasha who woke up sporadically and seemed to understand that this was the end. It was a long sad day but it afforded Annie the opportunity to do a lot of thinking. Maybe she couldn’t fix everything. Maybe some things didn’t even need to be fixed. Maybe she should concentrate her efforts on the things she could fix.

Nina arrived home and offered to relieve Annie but Annie couldn’t leave. The two of them sat there together.

“Will you be okay?” Nina asked kindly.

“I’m not sure yet,” said Annie. “Thank you for helping me. This last month, I mean.”

“It’s what you did for me,” Nina answered.

“That wasn’t anything.”

“It was what I needed,” said Nina. “I just hope I did the same. I know this wasn’t the homecoming you wanted.”

“No, definitely not,” said Annie. “But considering how I left I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Nina said, “but I’ve never seen Mitchell so focused on anything as he was on finding you.”

“Do you think he’s safe?” asked Annie instead of responding to Nina’s remark.

“I think…his intentions are good. I think his restraint isn’t. I think we’re all fooling ourselves if we believe this is the last slip up he’ll ever have.”

Annie nodded.

“I just have to decide if that’s something I can live with.”

“I don’t see how anyone could,” said Nina and that was the end of it for the moment.

Sometime later Sasha stirred and whispered Annie’s name.

“I’m here,” said Annie.

"Do you know what I wish? I wish that I'd done more, you know, with everything,” Sasha whispered, her voice rasping. “Like, even the stupid stuff. Like every night I went home early because I was a little bit tired, I just wish I'd stayed out and danced and laughed and lived. Cause nights like that won't come your way again. Even Gethan. I wished I'd loved him more, held him more. All those stupid fights we had over nothing. Every time I walked away when things got a little bit rough. I wish I hadn’t have done that. We talked about having a baby,” she continued. Nina made a little startled sound, “just kept on putting it off, saying we can't afford to this year, we're going to Belize, buying a new rug or a new car. What does any of that matter now?” Sasha grasped Annie’s hand with failing strength. “You gotta promise me you won't let those chances pass you by."

"I promise," said Annie, tears falling now.

"Cause it all goes, it all falls away. The looks, money, lovers, friends."

"Not all your friends," said Annie, trying to smile.

"No. Not all the friends. But the ones who are there at the end are the real ones, aren't they?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Thank you for being my friend, Annie."

"It's easy."

Sasha’s head turned ever so slightly toward Nina.

“Thank you, too. You’re a lot like my gran.”

“Is that a good thing?” asked Nina lightly.

Sasha nodded.

“She was so…nurturing and kind, but firm and fair. You’re like that. You’ll do well.”

Nina turned her head and there were tears on her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Sasha’s breath rattled in her throat and she squeezed Annie’s hand.

“Annie,” she whispered and then lay still.

Annie’s eyes met Nina’s and she didn’t know what to say.

They became aware of Sasha’s ghost, clean and whole, standing by the bed looking down at her body. Then Sasha turned to look behind Annie. There was a door there. Annie couldn’t help but feel afraid and she reached across for Nina’s hand and gripped it tightly.

Sasha crossed to the door without being told and opened it. A brilliant white light poured out from behind the door.

"Live, Annie. Seize the day. Don’t be afraid to love. To grow. Just live your promise.”

Sasha closed the door behind her and Annie shuddered until the door disappeared and she felt safe again.

She couldn’t stop crying but she knew what to do now.

***

Nina had to compose herself before she could speak to anyone. Seeing Sasha die wasn’t like anything that had ever happened to her before. She could smell the blood in her nostrils and feel the fear and the relief. But Sasha’s words had given her courage and an insight into herself. Even if most of them had been meant for Annie, Nina took them for herself. Everything she’d been thinking about for the last few days kept swirling around in her head and she wept now for her resolution as well as her sadness.

She went into the bathroom and forced herself to look in the mirror.

“You’re not her,” she said three times, maybe believing it. Gingerly she lifted her shirt and spread her fingers over the scars on her stomach. “You will never do this,” Nina said to her reflection.

Suddenly she needed to see George. The scariest part had been the actual decision, but she found once it was made, it was still hard to think about. She needed George to know she’d made the right one.

She went into their bedroom and closed the door. George was reading on the bed. When he saw her he took off his glasses.

"How is she?"

"She's gone," said Nina quietly.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She nodded her acknowledgment and walked farther into the room, having trouble looking him in the eyes.

"George, would you like to have…a little, hairy baby with me?"

She looked up at him and he nodded, slowly at first, then with more fervor, his tears and grin contradicting each other.

"Yes, I would."

She allowed herself a small smile and then he was vaulting across the bed, kissing her. She kissed him back readily. His excitement was all she needed to feel more secure. He hugged her, his head in line with her chest even though he was sitting on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “about before.”

“No, I’m sorry. I meant what I said, I will always be there.”

“You better be, George,” she said, her voice shaking. “You better be.”

He clutched her to him more tightly in response.

Nina sucked in a breath and held it, still unsure, but was bolstered by his response. She still didn’t know if she could do this, it was terrifying to even think about, but a small thread of excitement was winding through the terror. As long as George was with her, she could do it. She wouldn’t be alone like her mother was, she would have George. That would be the thing that changed the future.

***

Mitchell sat in the darkness as was his wont, rolling up his cigarettes. The stress of the past few days was starting to get to him. He’d tried being patient and giving so that everyone could see how much he wanted to still be a part of the group and could contribute but slowly, terror over what was going to happen to him was creeping in his mind. If he had any hope that everyone would back him, it would be easier, but with Nina so decidedly against and George not willing to cross her, Annie was his only hope and sometimes Mitchell didn’t know if he even wanted Annie to accept him.

If she did then it would give him something to work for again, but hadn’t that been Lia’s very last act of revenge, to give him a life only for it to be taken away? He’d tried to push away her prophecy, telling himself it was just a mind game, a form of punishment for killing her, but sometimes he couldn’t be sure. The very fact that the other side had let Annie go after wanting her back for so long led him to believe that something was going on. When the other side got involved it was always time to shudder.

Then there was all the truth about himself he’d had to face in Purgatory. Was he really worth saving after all? It burned him that given the choice he’d rather scratch his way through the world, continuing a meaningless existence, especially if it meant he wouldn’t have to face those truths anymore. Maybe that was the ultimate truth; he was just a coward, scrabbling at better souls to give him even a semblance of goodness. But that was what had always worked before. Well, except for with Lucy, but he didn’t want to think about that.

Annie came down the stairs, rubbing at her eyes.

“Is it over?” he asked quietly.

She nodded.

“Could you…move her body? It has to go somewhere. I don’t know, can we get it to her family somehow? The hospital told them they lost it.”

“I’ll get on it,” he said. “In the meantime, I can keep it safe in the back.”

“Thank you,” she said, lingering at the bar as if she wanted to say something more but didn’t know how to begin.

“Are you all right?”

She shrugged.

“I’m sad. How are you?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” she said sharply, then sighed. “Sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to be. Annie, what I did was unforgiveable and I shouldn’t have expected you to shoulder that burden. I wanted to save you because you needed saving but I brought you back to something you obviously don’t want.”

"Mitchell,” she said, moving closer, “listen, I know what you are. I've known since day one. But all those things you've done, you're putting them in your past, right?” He nodded slowly, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. She moved even closer, putting her hands on his face. “It's who you are now, who you're striving to be, that counts. And what you've done for me, for George, for all of us. That's the man I know. That's the man I trust."

He swallowed. Could she really mean it?

"Do you forgive me?" he asked hoarsely.

Annie hesitated.

“I…forgive you, but I won’t forget this, Mitchell. I can’t let it happen again. As far as you and I go, you’re one of my best friends, a man I cherish, but as a human being, I won’t condone anything against humanity. If you care about our friendship, you’ll have to respect that this is your last chance.”

He’d take it. He’d grasp it with greedy hands.

“And the families?” he forced himself to ask.

“I’m giving them the gift of blissful ignorance,” Annie said haltingly. “I hope that’s what I’m giving them.”

“That I truly do believe,” said Mitchell.

“Then I believe it,” she said simply, closing the rest of the distance between them and wrapping her arms around him.

He held her close and tried not to think about anything else other than the moment he was in. Somewhere a wolf was prowling, waiting for him, but this moment, it was precious.