Skye went to the door to admit her “handler,” Jake, while Zac and her parents arranged themselves comfortably in the living room. Rose perched on the love seat with a space left open for Skye. Brett presided in the recliner, set stiffly upright. He looked every inch the stern professor.

There was plenty of room on the main couch, but Zac chose to stand between the love seat and the sofa, so that he could quietly loom over the mousy, unassuming man who entered the home. Zac crossed his arms and tilted his stance so that he was an unobtrusive but present barrier between Skye and the man. 

Jake politely folded his suit coat over the arm of the couch and sat, with only one wary glance upwards towards Zac before focusing his attention on Skye and her parents.

“I should start with apologies,” Jake said. “First, to Skye, because my intel wasn’t good for that last job. I told you the slasher was on its fourth cycle. It appears to have been on a cycle as late as the seventh. I would never have sent you in if I had known. And I had no idea there was anyone outside of the Initiative inside the mall, either.”

His eyes didn’t so much as flicker in Zac’s direction, but his shoulders tensed when Zac shifted his weight towards him. 

Skye leaned back in the seat next to her mother, the picture of casual relaxation in direct contrast to her mother’s prim posture and her father’s stoic anger. 

“Don’t start groveling when I haven’t even had a chance to yell at you, Jake. It’s no fun," Skye said.

He blinked, briefly, and met her eyes. Checking whether he spoke to Skye or Reaper. Zac wondered if this man realized how narrow a distinction that truly was.

“I feel like if I don’t do a little groveling, I’m not leaving this room in one piece,” Jake noted. 

“Well, you do owe my parents a lot of apologies,” Skye agreed. 

“Yeah, I would really like to talk about your child labor practices,” Brett said.

“And I’d like to talk about how you let us think our child was dead for eleven months,” Rose snarled. Her eyes might not gleam with Death’s power, but they held every moment of a mother’s anguish and rage and that was its own kind of power.

 Jake, quite sensibly, looked ashamed. “Agent Rowan made the call. At the time...”

“At the time she was a heavily traumatized fourteen year old girl,” Brett growled. “She should have been brought home to us, where we could properly take care of her. Not shuffled around to random stranger’s couches and seedy hotel rooms!”

“The agents weren’t random,” Jake protested weakly, “and I’ve personally vetted every housing situation. I promise you, Skye has been as safe as it is possible to make her.”

“That isn’t the point!” Rose snapped.

“Show them your arm,” Skye ordered Jake, voice soft.

“Agent Reaper, I mean, Skye, it’s fine," Jake said. "They’re right to be angry.”

“Yeah, probably, but you came here for a reason and," Skye sighed. "And I already apologized for my part in all this but I need you to show them. They have to see.”

 Jake shook his head once. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Show them.” Skye's voice was quiet but steady.

 Jake sighed, and unbuttoned the sleeve at his right wrist, rolling the clean, pressed cotton up to his bicep. Zac winced at the revealed injury. Rose gasped and Brett cursed softly under his breath.

 The man’s arm was ravaged. Deep, livid scars showed where his skin had been flayed to the bone. The skin was discolored, showing shades of red, purple, and greenish yellow. Zac recalled that Skye had mentioned her Death Touch resembled a bruise. 

“What happened?” Brett gasped.

“I happened,” Skye said. “When I escaped the Initiative, I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t human. I was... I don’t know. I don’t remember much. Reaper had to fill me in later. Jake’s the first person who approached me, after. I got out of their lab, and I hid in an alley. He reached out to help me. And I did that. With my bare hands. I ripped his arm apart and it’s a minor miracle that he can even use the hand as well as he can.”

 Jake shrugged. “Good thing I’m a southpaw.”

“That happened a year ago?” Zac asked.

“Nearly,” Skye replied. “Why?”

“You said the death touch faded," Zac said.

“If the victim survives the initial contact, yeah,” Skye said. “That wasn’t exactly a normal death touch. I mean, I wasn’t controlling it and I sure as hell wasn’t trying to be merciful, so if I was using a death touch he’d be dead.” She looked at Jake’s arm, which he was currently hiding back under his sleeve. “I don’t know what I did. I don’t remember enough. It’s not something I’ve been able to replicate. Or wanted to try.”

 Jake buttoned his sleeve. “She was panicked, traumatized, and not in any way responsible for her actions. Other agents have suggested she might have been in a more severe version of the berserker’s trance.”

 Skye nodded. “That’s kind of what it felt like, only not quite.” She sighed. “I was stuck like that for a while. I was scared and angry. And that’s it. I would lash out at anyone that got close. I know I hurt people but Reaper won’t give me those memories back and the other agents won’t say a damn thing. They just keep telling me it’s not my fault.”

“Because it’s not,” Jake insisted. He shook his head faintly and spoke to the Rowans. “She wasn’t dropped with ‘random’ agents, ever. I had her housed with people I personally trusted, who I knew could survive if she lashed out. I understand you are angry with me, and you should be, but I could not in good conscience have let her out of our custody in that state.”

 Rose glared. “We’ve seen her...”

“Not like this, Mom.” Skye wrapped herself in her arms. “Never like this.” 

“Sweetie,” Brett started, but fell silent when the Reaper met his eyes. 

“How long?” Zac asked. Because what she was implying was days, not hours, in the blood trance.

“I’m not sure,” Skye admitted. “What little I remember is a blur. Just emotions. Just fear, and rage.”

“She was verbally unresponsive for three and a half weeks,” Jake reported. “Our best mind healers were unable to reach her. We were able to physically stabilize her, but nothing beyond that, until it seems that the Reaper stepped in.”

“Stepped in?” Rose asked.

“There was an incident, near the safe house where Skye was staying," Jake explained. "Someone tried to bring back their recently deceased lover and raised a half a cemetery worth of zombies instead.”

“Oof,” Brett muttered. 

“Yeah, oof sums it up,” Jake agreed. “I’d left her with one of our cleaners, that’s...” he trailed off, “not the point of the story and Skye is free to explain any of the workings of our organization she feels like at another time. Anyway, she was staying with an agent I was sure was more than competent to care for her. They just happened to be within a block of the cemetery when the zombies were raised. Naturally, Dakota, that’s the agent, went to deal with it, leaving Skye safe with her husband. Not an agent but a smart, capable individual.”

“His name is Michael,” Skye offered.

“Right, yes. Michael.” Jake shrugged. “This is all second hand, you realize. Dakota was overwhelmed by the hoard of zombies. We nearly lost her and fates alone know how many civilians living in the surrounding neighborhoods. Except Reaper chose that moment to act. According to Michael, Skye seemed to ‘just know’ that something was wrong and left the house without any explanation to him. He did note that her eyes were glowing silver, which is a sign that the Aspect is in control. As I’m sure you do not need me to tell you.”

“Not really, no,” Rose said.

“Michael did not feel qualified to stop her," Jake continued, "but he did follow, and called in to me what had happened. By the time he reached the cemetery, Skye or rather Reaper was engaged in combat with the zombies and had extracted Dakota from the situation. She put them all down, and then helped the would be necromancer move on to the next life.”

“After that,” Jake continued. “Skye began to speak and interact. That is the point at which she insisted on the plan that I allowed her to follow, faking her demise.” Jake took a deep breath. “I should not have gone along with any part of that. But I...” he paused. “Any time Skye was startled, upset, or a memory of her captivity was triggered, she would revert to the fugue state until the Reaper stepped in. Between the trigger and Reaper’s response, there were multiple incidents. Several agents were injured, some severely. After a few weeks it became a smooth transition and the incidents of fugue state were minimized. But at that exact time none of our healers or counselors could give me a prognosis of any kind. They didn’t know how the Aspect would affect her recovery. We weren’t sure she would recover beyond that point and, well, she was dangerous.” 

“She is our daughter," Rose insisted.

“And she is a threat to every living being in reach,” Jake said. “She doesn’t mean to be. She’s worked hard, so hard, to gain control of herself and you should be immensely proud of her. As proud of her as I am ashamed to have doubted her.”

 The parents glared. Zac was still boggling at the story he’d just heard. 

 She’d spent over three weeks in the Blood Trance? And come out the other end sane?

 How?

 With the Reaper’s help, for sure, but still. Damn. 

 He realized, looking around the room, that he was the only person besides Skye who had any idea just what she’d really done, coming back from that. And even she might not realize because she didn't fully remember.

 He’d help her parents understand, later. 

 Somehow.

“And once she was stable, instead of bringing her home, you sent her out on suicide missions?” Brett snarled.

“Hardly suicide missions,” Jake protested. “With the singular exception of the mall incident, Skye was never sent out without a more experienced partner. I meant to pair her with one of our necromancers, but we only have two and situations kept calling them away from the area before an introduction could be accomplished.” He frowned. “Even if you elect that Skye should not continue to work with Labyrinth, I do hope you’ll allow me to facilitate a meeting. I do think it would be helpful to her.”

“I want to meet Mirix. Everyone tells me she’s awesome,” Skye piped up.

“Sure, we’ll arrange a play date,” Brett grumbled. “But you’ve done absolutely nothing to convince me I shouldn’t throw you right the hell out that door and kick your ass if you ever appear on my porch again.”

 Jake winced. 

 And Reaper spoke.

“I still have to be about my duties,” the Aspect said. “All of this has not changed the core of what I am. With Labyrinth, I have access to resources that make those duties far less dangerous and damaging. I will concede to your wishes in the matter of my association with Labyrinth, but I must continue as I have before.”

“With or without them, huh?” Rose said. “You’ll still go out, sending on the wandering ghosts, fighting hoards of undead. And bringing home lost spirits and poltergeists?”

 Skye nodded. “Sorry, Mom.” Her eyes were still silver. Did the Aspect somehow consider Rose its mother, too? How did that work?

“Don’t be sorry.” Rose wrapped an arm over the girl’s shoulder. “Not for that. Never be sorry for what you are.”

“We are so, so broken, that you didn’t feel safe coming home to us,” Brett said. “But... I think I understand. You were afraid you’d hurt us.”

 Skye nodded, visibly miserable.

“Do your really feel that this is something you have to do?” Brett asked. “You, not Reaper. Sorry, Reaper, but I need to hear this from her. From our child.”

 Her eyes flared silver and faded into gray. 

“I do,” Skye whispered. “I have to try. To help. To keep going. My term’s not done yet.”

 Zac shivered. She’d mentioned her term being up back in the mall. It meant passing along the Reaper to its next host. It meant dying. 

“All right, then,” Rose said. “But things change. You stay with us. Where you belong. You have yourself under control now, and we’ll learn how to help you. Jake here will give us every bit of documentation from those healers and counselors he mentioned.”

“Absolutely,” Jake promised, adding, “and we’ll find some way to explain her return. We’ll handle all the legal matters, don’t worry about that.”

“Thanks,” Skye said. 

 Skye collected herself, although she stayed under her mother’s arm. “You had a job for me, Jake? You didn’t just come here to apologize.”

“Well. Yes.” Jake took a deep breath, and said, “It’s Fairfield Hospital.”

“Damn it,” Skye and her father said as one.