(Written with Jonas)

The Gunslinger had been looking for days, weeks, months, and with not a thing to show for it. It grated on him like hell, wearing him down thin, cutting up every nerve ending and leaving them raw, bleeding, completely wracked with pain. He relished in it though, as awful and sickening as that was. He used it to power him, plowing him through the city, its outskirts and everywhere else he could go. Hunting, searching. Trying to find her.

The entire O"Connor family had met up at the large Victorian house to compile knowledge, ideas, speculations. Anything to further the search for their lost sister. Mountains of books and stacks of paper littered the living room floor and the sound of half a dozen Irish voices was enough to make ones head swim. Having enough to deal with of his own, Sai had stepped outside. Taking a lonesome seat at the front of the house, he sat there, dwelling, watching the scarce flurries tumble down from the dull gray sky.

"Hey." He had spotted Sai slipping out to the front porch and had followed him, glancing out across the naked stretch of yard as he pulled the door shut. He was slow in his approach, but only out of respect. It was a rarity, that, but with the past few weeks being what they were, he couldn't seem to help it. "How're you holding up?"

Well that hadn't lasted long. He glanced up at the other man. "Hey." Leaning back on the wicker bench, he ran a hand over his face. Were it possible, there'd be more stubble than usual. "Nothin" new." He looked up at Jonas and simply stared for a moment. Wasn't it evident enough just how well he was holding up"

"Yeah," he said, taking the unoffered seat next to the Gunslinger. "That's about what I thought." He'd give them both a moment of silence, resting his forearms on his thighs, taking in the peaceful scenery scattering out before them. After a minute or three, he looked over at Sai. "Seriously, though. How're you doing?"

"I'm a f*ckin" mess," he responded with a groan, tilting his head back, straining his neck. It was a wonder that cowboy hat didn't fall right off his head. "She's been gone for over a month. How do you expect me to be doin?""

He drew in a deep breath, slowly letting it out, and turned his head to look over at Sai. This probably had to be one of the worst time's of the man's life. Well, aside from the last time that Kingsley went missing. And when he became what he was. "You know we're doing everything that we can." He paused. "All of us."

He let out a long breath, one that was potent with anger and self-frustration, watching it turn into a meek little puff of smoke. "I know." Again, he ran a calloused hand over his face then leaned forward, mimicking the friend at his side. "I know. And I appreciate it. We all do, appreciate each other. But what am I supposed to do' I'm the one that let her go "round by herself. It's my fault she's gone."

"Jesus, Sai." He groaned, rolling his eyes and letting his head droop. "How many times are we going to go over this"," he asked, pushing himself back against the bench. An all too serious stare found Sai, his tone set to match it. "It's not your fault."

"You can't say that. Not this time. This time I can't be excused. I'm the one that let her go. I was supposed to be by her side, watchin" out for her, protectin" her. And I let her go." Thick fingers folded together between his legs as he stared out at the frigid snow. "She's out there somewhere, alone. Probably scared. Probably?" He couldn't bring himself to say the word "hurt". ?"I just can't stand the thought of her bein" out there. A girl like that don't deserve it."

"I know," he said, watching the back of that cowboy hat. A hand reached out, searching for a shoulder. "We all know. And that's why we're looking, everywhere we can." That was, except there. When his hand settled atop of the Gunslinger's shoulder, it was as if the sun had suddenly exploded. The burst shattered his vision, cracking each iris like a broken crystal, liquid gold seeping out through the scattered shards of indigo. What sight appeared behind them was mortifying; darkness, screaming, a smear of bright red. "Oh my God"," he whispered, staring out at nothing and yet everything. "She's in Purgatory."

His head snapped, the look he gave sharp and suddenly clear. Words were needless now, everything between him and the other man connected by physical contact and eyes that were too similar in origin yet worlds apart. He saw what Jonas saw; the pain, the agony, the millions of souls writhing in endless misery. He heard their screams, echoing and clawing against the empty, unhearing walls. He felt their torture, their misery, their sorrow. But worst of all he saw one single speck of light, nearly swallowed up by the abysmal black surrounding it. And its luster was dimming by the second.

He stood without a word, letting Jonas? hand fall away from his shoulder, severing their unworldly tie. He didn't need it anymore, he knew where she was. Just as they both knew that he was going to be the only one able to go and get her out. Stepping off of the porch and into the swirl of white snow, the Gunslinger had already begun his preparation for visiting that horrendous place; his eyes went cold, his skin grew pale, and, somewhere deep inside of him, a long-buried monster began to stir.

He waded through the millions of souls like they were the muck that thickens a swamp. Each one of them clung to him, clawing, scratching, wrapping themselves around his legs and constricting about his waist, making his progress that much slower, that much more difficult.

But still, he waded on.

He heard their voices begging, their screams shrieking, all of them echoing through his head like it was nothing but a piece of hollowed wood. Some of them called to him, speaking his name with voices that had never before tasted it in their physical lives. But they knew who he was. Everyone here knew who he was. And that internal monster was kicking, squirming, eager to rise and meet them.

But still, he waded on.

Everything was black, thick as pitch, with only wisps of smoke to break the trance. Billowing, pulsating, it moved as if it were the very breath of this unearthly place. It touched him, caressed him, brushed against skin that was more at home here than anywhere else in any world. It was tantalizing, the seductive caress of a lover one had only once known and yet could never forget.

But still, he waded on.

But still, he kept looking for her.

And he could see an emerald dawn.

He had been in Purgatory for hours but this, getting to her, seemed to take the longest. It was as if he couldn't get close to her, that the distance between them would only wax instead of wane. The innumerable souls that were clenching to him were becoming heavier, more cumbersome, like articles of tangled, sodden debris.

But he couldn't stop now. He couldn't give up, not when she was so close.

So he kept wading, trudging, pushing his way through the smog of souls and impenetrable smoke. He ignored the nightmares, the inexplicable torture, the horror, the anger and the pain. He ignored the enticement, the offers, the inhuman cravings and desire, that single voice whispering promises with a voice dripping with lust. He ignored it all and reached out to her.

For her, he could resist it.

Even the promise of a beating heart.

"I've got you," he wanted to say but, in this world, words of such kind were of no use. So he contented himself just with holding her, delving thick fingers into locks of near black to cradle her head to his shoulder while the other arm encircled her thin waist. She weighed nearly nothing and, with the smoke still hovering around her like a nervous parent, he could move her with little effort, so he started them back home.

They moved toward the sliver of an opening he knew was there at the very edge of this world, a near invisible tear. It was the one thing that allowed those such as himself exit and entrance to this horrid place, were one so stained as to be able to return.

To his chagrin, the Gunslinger was.

He waded through the heaps of pleading souls, each one begging to take the Astral's place in the arms of such a rare savior, swearing all sorts of promises, each an empty lie. But with her in his arms, the dark monster had gone silent and he could keep it at bay, so he was able to ignore the spirits as he carried her, taking her from Purgatory and back into her world as he stepped them through that splinter of light.