Time passed, and things settled into a rhythm that seemed almost normal. The flood of refugees slowly became a trickle, and before I knew it there were more people leaving than arriving. A quietness returned to the House. I busied myself in those days as much as I could, following different residents around like a little lost lamb. I made scones with Tefis. I helped Annie wash and hang armfuls of sheets. Connie watched over me, a surprisingly gentle, quiet fellow, as I learned how to mend tears in the ragged clothes that many of the escapees from the Witchfinders wore without pricking my fingers.

I knew that I could leave, that I could return to my Blue Mare and continue life as I had known it before. But something made me stay. I had to admit that part of it was sheer curiosity. I’d never met anything like the woman stuck in the infirmary. Something simultaneously so fragile, and so frightening. Like the merest touch could have shattered her into a thousand pieces, only to have someone come along and dutifully glue her back together again. She was intriguing.

Increasingly, I found it difficult to sleep. There was a comfortable monotony to the days that made me itch. I wanted to do something, I just could not decide what. I took to roaming the halls as night enfolded the house. There were less people about. Even in a house full of Others, many of the residents preferred to live in the light. There were some exceptions, of course, like Alistair. But given his offsider was still very much out of commission, he had absconded to some far corner where he went about whatever business he had without company.

Aquis was warm this time of year, and I found myself sweating as I laid and stared at the ceiling of my room in the dark. With a sigh, I struggled to free myself from my blankets, and stood. The dark did not bother me, so I did not reach for a light. Demons had keen eyesight. Living the majority of the time in the In Between, a place more oft dark than light, had seen to that.

I padded, barefoot, to the double doors at the rear of my room that Annie had mentioned when I first came to stay here. They lead out to the house’s sizeable rear garden. Pushing them open, I was immediately met by a rich, wet smell of things growing vibrantly. Most of the garden was taken up by produce - a meandering maze of pumpkins and beans and tomatoes, with a small orchard of fruit trees lining its rear. There was one small patch though that was free from utility. A pond, with an old tree stretched above it. The grass here was thick and long, and left to the mercy of daisies and other wildflowers. There was a little seat, tucked beneath the tree’s boughs.

She wasn’t sitting on the seat. She was so still, lying flat in the grass, that someone with poorer night vision probably would have missed her entirely. For a moment, I was worried, afraid she’d wandered out here and passed out. But I could see the glint of her eyes, as she stared up at the moon.

“Six.”

Her head turned, cheek cushioned by the grass, to look at me.

“Can’t sleep?”

I shook my head, and she gave me a small smile.

“Same. Fucking stitches itch like crazy.”

The grass was soft underfoot as I came to stand over her. She looked so fragile, laid with her arms stretched out beside her, the bandages she still had to wear stark against her darker clothes and the whorls of colourful tattoos. I frowned.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“I’m just dandy, mother. As long as I don’t - “ she hissed a little, as she levered her arms beneath herself and pushed herself up to a sitting position, “move too fast, I’m right as rain.”

I sighed, and watched the flash of teeth in the light of the moon as she grinned up at me. It must be hard, being the only one in a house full of creatures with superhuman strength and speed, to suffer in such a human way. Six patted the grass beside her. I folded down beside her, careful to sit with my chest facing hers, so that she would not have to twist her neck to look at me. The bandage on her neck was still bulkily present, and I wagered the wound beneath still smarted something fierce.

We sat in the dark in companionable silence, staring up at the moon. She was so close that I could feel the warmth radiate off her. It was lucky she was almost entirely human. Anything more Other would have been able to hear the way my heart hammered. Being this close to her made my stomach flip. To know I was so close to so much power, encased in the most breakable of shells, was thrilling. I’d practically sizzled with it in the days following the incident in the infirmary.

Six tensed for a moment. I was so close to her that I could feel it. Then she sneezed, once, and swore.

“Fuck.”

She moved faster than I would have expected, given her injuries. Suddenly there were hands on either side of my face, and I was staring into those strange, bi-coloured eyes. I could feel the scars on her palms, as they rubbed against my cheeks. I’d seen the strange brands on her hands in passing before, a raggedly seared “6” in the perfect centre of both palms. They looked painful, and to feel them confirmed that. I wondered for a moment what had come first, the scars or the name, as one had surely inspired the other. I had to resist the urge to lean into her hands, lean into the power of her. She looked annoyed, and I hoped it wasn’t directed at me.

“Whatever you do, don’t look up. Look at me, or close your eyes.” She inched closer to me, until we were so close that our knees touched. My heart was thundering so loudly that I felt like I could barely hear her above it. I could feel her breath on my cheek, as she leaned forward, fingers twining behind my head. Pressure, gentle but firm, and I found my forehead coming to rest against her shoulder. Her fingers curled up over my ears. If I had better control over myself, I would have wondered why the hell she was suddenly desperate to get so up close and personal. But I didn’t, and I couldn’t. All I could do was stay there, frozen as the scent of her filled all my senses. She smelled so human, but so much better, with none of the bitter tang that came with a lot of Others.

“This will probably hurt, and ‘m sorry for that. I’ll make sure he leaves as quick as I can.”

I wanted to question that, but her hands suddenly pressed over my ears. I was so close that I could feel her chest rise and fall, so close that when she spoke, I could feel it vibrate through me as much as I heard it. Sound was muffled, but I could still hear some of what went on above me.

“What do you want?” Her tone was waspish, far more abrasive than I had ever heard her be before.

“Little bird,” the voice seemed to breathe over us, like the caress of the wind. Even through Six’s clenched fingers, I could hear it. It made something deep within my head twinge painfully. The blood seemed to roar in my ears. “I heard that you had sustained injuries and I can see that I was correct.”

He - it? - seemed to hiss in a way that is reminiscent of a snake. Not in a hokey villain sort of way. It just sounded like the words slithered out of him. I would not have described the voice as ‘male’, as there was very little human in it, but it was deep in a gut-clenching, chill-inspiring sort of way. The fingers shielding my ears from the brunt of the sheer horribleness of that voice twitched.

“And yet here I am, in one piece. Job done, now please leave.”

Whatever was standing behind me moved. I couldn’t hear it, but I could feel it. The middle of my back itched. It felt incredibly wrong to keep my back to it. But a very big part of me feared what I might find if I were to turn.

“You need to take care, little bird. You are far more breakable than you like to pretend.”

It hurt. It really did hurt. She was right about that. My ears thrummed in time with my heart. It felt like there was a weight crushing every part of me, pressing relentlessly inwards.

“So? I’m still here.” There was such venom in her, such pain. Her voice broke on the last word. It made me want to bury my face in her neck.

“I fear that you have done this on purpose.”

The bark of laughter was harsh, vibrating through her chest and mine in tandem.

“Why the fuck would I want to do this to myself? It hurts.”

“You have done so before. It is very...distressing, to watch what you wreak on your own form.”

Her fingers clenched and unclenched around my ears. I could feel her shaking, where my cheek was pressed to her shoulder. Something is really hurting now, burning.

“Fuck, Umber. Try living in a prison sometime, let me know how that goes. But for now, kindly bog off. You’re melting him.”

There was a pause. It felt like standing at the mouth of a cave, and feeling the darkness yawning before you. I couldn’t tell if the thing was moving anymore. My world had been reduced to the throb of my head and a growing whine in my ears. God, I thought to myself, it's a god. Fuck.

“Very well.”

In an instant, the feeling was gone. All that remained was the darkness, and the smell of the grass beneath us. Six was quivering, as I couldn’t tell if it was caused by distress or deep rage. She released my head, and I rocked back hastily. My very blood seemed to cry out at the loss of contact, but I needed to put some distance between us. Six seemed very pale in the moonlight, and there was a shine to her eyes when she met mine. She swore again, under her breath, and broke eye contact almost immediately, dropping her eyes to her hands where they have come to rest in her lap.

I can’t find the words to organise my jumbled thoughts.

“Sorry,” she muttered, fingers twisted together in a way that looked painful. I reached out hesitantly, and touched the back of one of her hands. It’s like trying to touch a thunderstorm and my fingers zinged. Rage, definitely rage. Plus something deeper, a sudden pang of loneliness and loss that made my teeth hurt to touch. As quickly as it comes, it ebbs. She clamped down tight with a shield that would put most Others to shame. Nothing leaks through.

Six looks up when I touch her, and her breathing hitches. With shaking fingers, she reaches for me, and touches my nose. They come away red, and suddenly I can feel the thick ooze. My nose is bleeding.

“Sorry,” she repeats, transfixed on her fingers. She touches them to her lips, almost absently, and suddenly it feels a lot harder to breathe. My cheeks flush, and I have to look away. She is still so close that I can feel when she pauses, can tell when her hand hastily drops to rub the grass. “Sorry. Habit. I, uh, fuck Dell, I’m so sorry he just turned up like that.”

Just a god, casually popping in for a chin wag. What the everliving fuck had I gotten myself into? She was so casual too. There was no fear in her, facing down whatever the hell was standing there looking at us. I sneak a peek in her direction, and notice something concerning. She’s bleeding too. Not like me, though. Her nose is small and upturned, and free from blood. The bandages on her and arms are a different story, and I can see little blossoms of red starting to spread.

“You’re bleeding.”

Way to state the obvious. She blinks, and looks down at her arms.

“That tends to happen. Beth is going to be livid with me though.”

I sigh, shakily, and pull my feet underneath me. In one movement, I stand, towering over her. She’s so little, short even by normal human standards. I must look beastly, looming over her. No amount of glamour could really hide my height. I’m only glad that it covers another multitude of sins. I look fairly normal, on the surface. Something about the thought of her seeing me as I truly am turns my stomach.

“Let’s get you seen to, then. Before Beth wakes.”