Fionna

Her mind and his, thoughts and positions and aspects came tumbling and tearing apart and smashing together. Eventually, the worlds began to reclaim form and shape, physical manifestation began, and in the end, the island floating in the sky had come to be. The sprawling world, the haze of the shut-out city, the culmination of who they were, forced into a place; it was all there.

It was a disorienting ride, and when everything gelled, she felt that lurch in the stomach that you get when the rollercoaster drops down the first big hill. Fio awoke to the sounds of clockwork machinery and the twinkling of a piano accompanied by other pieces of music, the flutter of paper, and the coldness of a clean, untraveled cobblestone street. Instinctively, she reached out, grabbing at the column of the nearest lamp post and steadying herself until the initial spate of dizziness passed.

Where was she?

Once the dizziness passed and she was relatively certain she wasn't going to fall on her backside on the cobbles, she pried her fingers loose, one by one, and began to take a good look around. There were people in the streets, but they were wary, and kept their distance and their silence. No greetings, no offers of help came from any of the onlookers. They might have been statues, for all that they moved.

The oddest feeling that she was still naked washed over her then. She looked down, but no. To her astonishment and growing sense of dread, she was wearing the sort of traveling clothes her mother had favored when they were on the concert circuit: gray herringbone pencil skirt, black silk sweater, seamed silk stockings, low pumps. She even had the white trench coat and the black, wide-brimmed hat she remembered from her childhood. A sniff. Chanel No. 9. Her hands started to shake.

?Impossible,? she whispered.

The timid lull of a child's voice answered her, coming out from somewhere in the streets.

?Why are you here? Why did he let you in??

She looked around her, turning in a full circle for the sound of the voice, but saw nothing save the fluttering of a paper or two, tumbling along the street as a breeze carried them. Was 'he' Skid? She had to assume so. But could she trust someone she couldn't even see?

?I'm looking for some friends. They might look a little like me??

No reply.

She tried again. ?Do you know where Skid is??

?He's gone. Not in our world. Where did he go??

This time, the voice was more solid; she turned to her right, slowly. The doorway of a toy store was held open by a small child, no more than four feet high, wearing black clothing in a loose, lost kind of style.

Her expression softened when she saw him, and she shook her head slightly. The wind blowing through the streets was constant and warm. She put a hand atop her head to hold the hat on, when she could feel her hairpins pulling. That wind disturbed her, for some reason she couldn?t pinpoint. It never stopped washing over her.

?I don't know. I think that he brought me here. I -- I thought that he would be here with me.? She cocked her head to the side, studying the waif. ?Do you know where else he might have gone??

?He can't pick. He always gets lost. He's in your world now.? He looked to the East, worriedly. ?The pretty girl might know where he is, though. I could take you to her if you want. She's from your world.? He looked up at her, eyes wide.

?I would like that, very much.? She leaned down and held out a hand. Maman?s black kid gloves melted away, and her bare hand was offered. Her nails were painted a shell pink. Beneath the hat, her hair was cut in a chin-length bob of dark ringlets, framing her face.

The setting and her appearance were both so reminiscent of her childhood that she felt the sense of her mother strongly. It was not an altogether pleasant memory, and her expression shadowed until the boy quailed back into the doorway. The others, still watchful, seemed to hold their collective breath.

Realizing the effect, she smoothed her features and offered him a shy little smile. ?What is your name??

?Don't have one yet.?

He shied away for a moment, before reaching out and taking her hand. The community seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and just as quickly as they'd grown quiet and abandoned the areas around her, they returned to their usual modest strolling.

?You can call me Pan. The pretty girl lives up the road. I don't like going that way. But, I'll take you.?

?Thank you,? she whispered down to him.

Without answering, he began the long process of leading her through the clockwork village. It was a fantastical place, like the Oz of her imagination, full of clean, fairy-park streets and people in stylized costumes going quietly about their business. It was also a vastly well-protected city, walled and watched. The guards - behemoth teddy bears of exposed clockwork construction, covered in plating like armor in places ? lumbered past them occasionally and gave her probing looks as they did.

Everything was at once chillingly familiar and distressingly alien.

Their journey had begun.

Fionna

They walked, for some time, in silence.

She couldn't help but notice how the atmosphere changed once he'd accepted her offered hand. She watched and listened to everything, paying special attention to the clockwork bears. They were the easiest to focus on, those metal behemoths, and the most solid. She found if she tried to study the other people too closely, they grew dimmer or flickered, as though they were shy of her scrutiny.

Even the landscape defied her scrutiny. The neighborhoods began to change, losing the formal Victorian elegance of the area where she?d met the boy. A homier atmosphere began to pervade. Grass grew before homes of the sort she'd read about in books, small bungalows and cottages where neighbors might visit over a cup of tea, or borrow flour while they saw the children off on school busses.

Only, there were no neighbors. No school busses. No people at all.

She found herself avoiding the cracks on the sidewalks.

Eventually, even the bears stopped patrolling. One or two wandered about aimlessly here or there, but they looked out of their element, like they weren?t sure what they were supposed to do in the borderlands of this new world. The intermittent whirring of their gears and the click-click-click of her heels on the uneven sidewalks were the only noises loud enough to compete with the soft sighing of that relentless wind.

If I listen close enough, she thought, it almost sounds like a conversation. A chill slithered down her neck. She decided to try engaging the boy in conversation again, if only to ease her growing sense of trepidation.

?Pan? I truly do appreciate your help,? she murmured, offering him a little smile. ?I wouldn?t know where to go, by myself.?

?It's okay.? His face was scrunched in worried concentration. She noticed that the further they walked, the more he avoided looking up, like the changing landscape bothered him, too.

?Why don't you like going to the pretty girl's house??

?She makes me nervous.? He didn?t look at her, and dropped his voice lower before adding, ?She goes really far.?

For a moment, her unbeating heart clenched in her chest and she felt the most incredible and utterly irrational urge to hold and cuddle him to her, to read him stories and tuck him in at night. She wanted ? no she needed - to protect him.

It scared the hell out of her.

She also had the sense he wasn't all that he appeared outwardly. His skittishness and her primal reaction to him urged caution. She considered her question and her tone carefully, before she spoke again.

?What do you mean - she goes really far??

?You'll see.? He sounded entirely frightened, but quickly added, ?But you shouldn't be scared. This is your place.?

?All right.? She answered slowly, a tiny knot of tension coiling in her stomach. The landscape did not look at all familiar. In fact, the homey neighborhood was beginning to look more and more like the site of an old battle, like London after the Blitz. Ahead of them, a tall barricade spanned the street, its yellow warning lights flickering uncertainly. She took a deep breath, squeezing his hand.

?I will do my best,? she promised.

?It gets scary.? He held her hand more tightly as they moved on, bears and nutcrackers standing sentinel along the wall, some of the last real presence the clockwork world held. He looked up at her, finally. ?Don't let go.?

She swallowed visibly, and nodded, tightening her grip on the child's hand. ?I won't.? And after a moment's thought, she whispered to him nervously. ?Don't you let go either.?

?I won't.?

Two bears directed the pair of them to a door in the barricade wall, barred with massive iron beams that they hefted like paper shopping bags. Once the door was opened, they gestured for them to pass through. These clockwork machines were different than the others, though. Streaks of what looked like black paint, or oil perhaps, ran from their eye sockets; like they were weeping.

Their clockwork hearts, apparently, were unsupportive of conflict.

She froze, when she saw what lay beyond the door.

?Do you recognize it?? the child asked cannily.

Oh, she knew it all right. She nodded.

?Yeah.?

They walked through the gates, heard the dull metallic thud of the iron arms being dropped back into place behind them.

'Scary' was an understatement. Two small guard shacks stood on either side of the roadway that ran straight as an arrow between the long arms of a U-shaped fortress. A broken fountain stood in ruins at the apex of the drive. The stones of the citadel were scorched, and cobbles in the road were churned up like heavy siege-engines had been up the same path. The closer he led her, the taller the structure seemed to grow, until they were facing a towering wall that looked more like a sheer cliff face than a building.

?She lives here?? Fio whispered, barely able to tear her eyes away.

?Uh-huh. Near the middle.?

He indicated it with the reach of a finger towards the sky.

?We have to go in through the windows away from the doors. The doors don't like us.? He looked too frightened to explain, and his shaking hand said as much.

?Okay,? she whispered, taking his word for it.

She remembered the last time she'd gone through those doors, stealing her children away in the middle of the afternoon, her face and body bearing the bruises of the night before. She'd told the guards she was taking Flea and the boys shopping for clothes to wear to some ceremony honoring Antony. It was a transparent lie, but a few of the guardsmen liked her, and she?d been lucky with the duty roster that day. Loading the children in the car, she drove through those gates between the guard shacks, and never once looked back.

Not even once.

?Lead the way.?

He took her around the edge of the massive structure, to one low window leading into what might have once been a custodial entrance. Mountains of rotting trash were heaped beside the structure beneath a rusted chute.

?Nobody likes the smell, so this is the best way in. She comes down here sometimes; it's how I found her. She had flowers, and was going back through the window. When she saw me, she made me go with her so we could play.?

He frowned. ?But I couldn't leave through the doors. They don't like us.?

He looked at her, then. The bottom sill of the window was sitting roughly level with where her eyes were. It was unlatched.

?I gotta let go to get through. Can you boost me??

Fio

?Sure, honey.?

She hated to let go of his hand, but she did it anyway, and as she crouched down to offer her cupped hands for the boost up, she realized her clothing had changed. She was wearing a little sleeveless dress, navy and white polka dots, with a matching belt and pumps. A white chiffon scarf covered her long hair, which was twisted in a chignon. It also covered the hand marks left on her neck. A white cotton sweater did the same for her arms. And a big, blocky pair of sunglasses hid other sins. It was the same outfit, the very same one she?d worn the day she?d left him.

She almost fell when she'd realized it.

He?d been about to put a foot in her hands, when she?d staggered. ?Don?t drop me!? he stared at her, eyes wide with worry.

?Are you okay?? he asked.

That ubiquitous breeze ruffled his hair, lapped at them both and washed the smell of refuse over their skin. She suddenly needed to be inside.

?Yes,? she shook her head to clear it. ?Sorry. I?m fine. I?m fine.?

She bent again to boost him up, and this time, he was able to scramble through the window to open it proper. Once he had, he offered a hand.

?Come on! If they see you, they won't let you inside. They don't like it when the garbage smell comes out the doors!?

?This doesn?t make any sense.? Her eyes turned toward the chute and its mounds of rotting trash. Why let it collect like this? Antony was many things, but he was never tolerant of the kind of neglect she'd seen here. It wasn?t right. Vertigo rolled over her again.

?Come on!? he whispered again, shaking the hand he held extended for emphasis.

He was strong ? stronger than he should have been. The moment she?d placed her hand in his, he?d curled his fingers around her wrist and, before she could do anything to pull herself up, hoisted her through the window. She had to scramble to catch her balance as she went over the windowsill and down onto the tiled floor of the hallway.

?Are you sure she's even here?? While he shut the window behind them, she looked around.

It was familiar.

But it was familiar in a shifting way, like several different places occupied the same space. It was the Citadel - the hallway leading to the family's suite of rooms. There was the painting of Antony over the little console table.

But it was also the third floor hallway in the House. There was the door leading to the stairwell landing.

But then it was gone, and it became the long, underground passage from the vat room in the Joint back up the hill to the House. The caged lights along the corridor flickered like yellow eyes. She could almost hear the jukebox.

Hey! Don?t come around here no more.

?She's always here. There aren?t many others inside. She says they aren't really bad, they're just mean. But I know better,? his expressive eyes were solemn as he fixed them on her. ?They're bad. Stay close ... Don't leave me.?

?Where is she?? Was he afraid for himself, or for her?

?She's at the end of the hallway. Don't let it trick you. It likes tricks, and traps, and making you go places you don't wanna. Just keep walking, or it'll take you away until it makes you into what it likes.? With this pronouncement, he took her hand.

?Take me away until I?m what it likes,? she murmured breathily, thoroughly bewildered at this point. The place was like her dreams - all shifting sands and uncertain footing.

?Come on,? he insisted, tugging her forward.

Fio let him pull her along, down the halls, the corridors, the hewn-out tunnels; the passages went on forever. Some of it was so familiar it was shocking, like seeing her own reflection in a mirror when she wasn?t expecting it. Some of it was so completely strange she was certain they were lost until they rounded another corner into the familiar again. At every turn it was vacant, empty and silent.

She felt eyes on her everywhere.

They turned onto a corridor that looked nearly identical to the place where they?d begun when he pulled up short.

?Wait. No.? Pan stopped, while the tunnel continued its shift.

There was something wrong about the juncture. It was too dark. Something had cut into it and the air moved. A cold, angry wind gusted over them.

The wind whispered things.

He fell back onto his bottom and stared, horrified at the opening. ?He's trying to get inside!?

The passage rotted out of the wall whispered enchantingly to Fio. It wanted her. It promised her salvation, her life back, everything she'd ever hoped to regain or change. Anything was possible; if she'd only come into the pale light.

?No!? Pan was pleading, but she could hardly hear him over the whisper in her ear. ?Get away from it! Don?t touch him! Don't talk! Don't listen!?

?What?? she asked. His voice seemed so far away.

?You have to run away! Run fast!?

He gestured for her to move forwards on her own, and for a moment, it seemed like Pan was directing her into the new opening. The voice there was strange, but strangely familiar, too. It called her. It seemed so reasonable. Come this way, it whispered.

Pan?s expression was terrified.

She was rooted to her spot with indecision.

The wind smiled.

Fio

"No!"

Pan strained to reach her, desperate to prevent the inevitable, but it was too late. She had waited too long. The crease of the rotting line had reached the far wall, and almost instantaneously, the entire section was torn away into pale light, the nighttime that was day to everything in it.

The world flipped over, her own, echoing denial hanging in mid-air as the vacuum created by the severing swallowed it. The light-that-wasn?t-light pulled her in, casting her in silhouette for the span of a single heartbeat, before the hole closed shut behind her.

When sound and sense returned, she found herself in a night club. The place felt like sex and rot, and looked like the worst of the flesh markets Rhydin had to offer; its dim, smoky interior was all black and blue, shadows and reflected neon. Music played in the background but the volume was impossibly low. There was simply the sense of it more than the actual sound. In the dark leather booths, figures moved on and with each other in slick, erotic embraces and languorous motions. Those sounds, too, were muted but unmistakable. Someone cried out, and another laughed. The smell of cigarettes, stale alcohol and sex permeated the room.

Over and under and between it all was a voice, whispering. No matter how hard she strained to hear what he was saying ? for it certainly was a he ? she couldn?t make it out.
But everything led to it: one door, cracked open and painted a thick, unforgiving black. That was where the whispers came from

She caught herself on the edge of a table until the vertigo passed, and cursed under her breath, a curse she'd heard Skid use many a time in the past. She had no idea what the language was, but she got the meaning plain enough, if no one else did. Nothing in the club stopped to notice her, and no one offered to help. They were too wrapped up within themselves and their actions to bother. Only the door spoke, and it kept on whispering to her. It promised her things.

In the back of her head, she could still hear Pan's imploring advice. 'Don't listen to him! Don't touch him! Run away! Run away now!'

But it was so tempting.

No. Her eyes cut around the room, looking for the exit, for some route of escape out of the club. She took a step away from the door and turned on her heel. That?s when she saw him.

The exit was blocked, by a single man. He was young, perfect in form and voice, and by all counts one of the Kindred, though she couldn?t say how she knew that. She just did.

"You don't want to leave, Fio Helston, do you?? He had a lazy, mocking smile and a way of looking at her that went right to the bone. ?Not when you can get everything from Him? Everything you've ever wanted? Hmm?"

That stopped dead in her tracks; she was shocked to the core that he knew her name. But - he didn't know her true name. That awareness hit her almost simultaneously. He had no power over her that she didn't give him.

?All of the things I have ever wanted - I've been promised that before. It proved me false.?

?The right person wasn?t making the offer.? He replied in that silky voice. She found herself standing right before him, without remembering how she got there. It was like the slideshow that was her life skipped a frame or two. ?He can do it. Give you whatever your heart desires.? He whispered. ?Anything at all.?

?You don?t have to be afraid anymore.? He said that like he was wielding the killing blow.

She closed her eyes, and reminded herself, not of her desires, but of what she had. She saw Tara's face, and Gem's. Lucky's and Ali's and Sin's. She thought of her daughter, safe from the dangers that threatened her. She thought of her painting, and her music. And she thought of Skid, and the feel of his arms around her when she'd been so cold. Of his face when they laid together. Of his promise to always find her.

When she opened her eyes, she wasn't afraid anymore.

?I don't want anything. Move aside.?

"Oh, Fio. Fio, Fio, Fio. Tch. Bad move.? He really did sound disappointed. ?You should've listened. He isn't compliant, like me. Like us. And when He wants you to do what He thinks you should, you'll have nowhere to run."

The Vampire leaned to the side, the exit door shut behind him, waiting to be opened. "He'll take everything, you know. He?ll leave you alone in the dark."

He was smirking. The whispers had fallen into silence. Now they waited, thick, wondering. He hadn't need enough to follow, it seemed.

Alone in the dark. She faltered, for only a moment. And then she reached for the handle.

?Get out of my way.?

He would find her. He would bring her back. He promised. She caught at the knob and turned. When the door opened, it was all darkness.


"I've never been in it, toots. Hope you enjoy yourself." A shove from behind and a slamming door made it complete. But it wasn?t as he?d said. She wasn?t alone. There was something in there, with her.

Fio

A few feet in front of her, it was slick, and cold. Wet. Something thick spattered the ground in slow drips. There was breathing, too. But it was shallow, far apart, too much like pain, not enough like a need for air. The sound was punctuated by the periodic rattle of chains, shifting with weight.

Had she been afraid before now? It paled by comparison. She stood there, in the dark, and listened to the sound of despair. Behind her, where there had once been a door, the wall was smooth, seamless. Ahead of her? She was about to find out. She gathered her courage, licked dry lips, and called into the darkness, softly.

?Is there someone there??

?No one,? the words were so hoarse, lost, they sounded more like boulders grating against other boulders to make the right sounds for speech. Every word conveyed not just physical pain, but an agony of the soul. ?Worth finding.?

She exhaled slowly, and forgot to breathe in again. The anguish in that voice, the sheer weight of sorrow, was crushing. She knew what it was to feel like that, to lay in her tomb, alive but unable to move, to tell anyone she was there; she knew what it was to wait for rescue that was never coming, to finally give up, beyond grief. She took a step forward, then another, her pace quickening once she was able to make herself move.

?Where are you? I can't see you.?

?I...? A hack, and a thick slap of what was either blood or something else sounded off against the floor. ?I am up. Look for lights. Make them, in this place.? The words came slowly. There was nothing in them.

?Is there a switch?? She changed course and aimed herself where the wall should be. The air was cold on her skin, and she was feeling it. The summer dress was gone; Perish had buried her, that first time, naked. She touched her ear briefly, without thinking, and felt the ghostly double of Lucien's diamond stud, cold and hard through her earlobe. Her hands, her forearms, slid along slick, undoubtedly filthy walls, in search of some means of lighting the cavern.

?Switch?? A savage, mirthless laugh echoed through the room. The chains rattled from every direction. ?Make the lights.?

?Make the lights? How?? She shouted in frustration. ?I don't have anything on me to make lights!? She slapped at the walls, looking for something, anything, that could help her, her feet slipping more than once in whatever slime coated the floor. ?Lights. Lights!?

?Like that,? With her request for lights, pale red ones flickered to life overhead. They lined several sections of the ceiling, with one large light directly over the Keeper's head. The bulbs were stained with thousands of blood spatters, much like the walls, the chains, and the Keeper himself. He was connected to hundreds, if not thousands, of chains throughout the room that was easily the size of a pair of gymnasiums slapped together. His blood dripped constantly from ebon black skin lacerated by the spikes and spines driven through his flesh. The top half of his head was covered by a filthy cloth that reminded her of Skid?s mask. His bleeding mouth stretched wide in a rictus of agony.

The sight of him took time to absorb, to fully recognize and comprehend what it was that she was seeing, to separate metal from flesh and define the boundaries breached. She stood there, her mouth open in complete and utter stillness borne of shock and horror. At last, all she could do was whisper, but the three words that fell from her lips were juggernauts of pity.

?You poor thing.?

?No... Pity...? The chains rattled with his voice, which showed that when he spoke, the blood flow increased, thickening it. ?Remorse. Failure. Duty. Cells here should be empty.?

The Commander

Fio had cried herself out before they reached their destination, but the adrenaline and tears had left her drained and listless. The Commander watched her face as they climbed the stairs, and scowled inwardly.

?What did he mean, when he said I would ?know? what that was all about?? she asked, matching his pace stride-for-stride. ?He called me the 'temporary warden???

?Who do you think used to run this pit?? he snapped. ?The rabid excuses for men outside? Please.?

She didn?t say anything else until they reached the main hall.

When they?d arrived, Skid leaned his back against a wall and continued to hold Fio while the Commander paced. They continued that way for an eternity of angry minutes. He didn't want to put her down. If he held her, she couldn't go anywhere else. Disappear without a trace. Of course, there was nothing in the Prison that could take them. Only that one, little, unnoticeable backdoor that led right into that cell.

It was Fio who finally spoke, breaking the silence, and it was to the Commander. She couldn't stop staring at her. Couldn't stop wondering why she had left her alone in all that time since she had awoken. There were too many things that she couldn't understand.

?Where have you been? Where are the others??

?I've been doing my job,? she answered. ?I've been busy doing what needed to be done to keep us all safe in this madhouse.? She shot Skid a challenging look, expecting a confrontation.

She got it. He came back at her with a vengeance.

?You need to fight if you want to be safe. Push him out. You're just giving him everything he moves through, so what are you going to do when he's taken it all? You can't stay in my head for the rest of time. You think Sunshine downstairs is the worst thing around here?? he paused, for a moment. ?He's not.?

?Stay here?? She truly was astonished. ?Stay here? We didn?t ask to come here in the first place!?

He dismissed that with an expressive roll of his eyes, and continued. ?You know what? I just got an idea. Commander, I think I know how to get him out. I mean, at least for a while.? He looked at her, not as much imploring as telling. ?I need your help to lure him out, though; since the others are absent.?

?I don't know what you're talking about.? The Commander frowned at him, her eyes cutting to Fio and back. ?You have some freaking monster strolling around out there, you find something else to use for bait. I'm not playing.? She slid a glance beyond him, to the locked doors. ?I have the others to guard.?

?The f**k you don't,? Skid scowled. ?It's your monster, idiot. And remember this, right now. This is the moment you failed to act. To do something about it for Fio, yourself, and the others.?

He turned for the doors, still cradling Fio to his chest. ?Now, I'm going to go and try to clean up the mess you've let happen. You just stay here, where it's nice and guarded. Maybe hide under your desk.? His words were venomous as his foot smacked open the door.

?You?re the idiot!? the Commander followed after them, shouting out from the open doorway. ?You're chasing after the shadow of a memory, you?? She growled, slapping her hand on the doorframe. A number of the guards stopped in their practice drills to watch this with some astonishment. ?The real monster's out there!?

?Bring her back here!?

He didn?t slow down, didn?t stop, didn?t reply.

The Others

They walked back through the same doorway. This time, it let out into the Prison's main entryway, inside the door the Commander had slammed only minutes ago. Skid set Fio down once they were inside, and moved for the four shut cell doors on his own, chasing his curiosity. She followed after him, half expecting the Commander to come shouting down the hall after them, and more than a little surprised by the quiet.

?Can you open them?? she whispered, glancing to the left and to the right. No one coming.

?I can open any door in this world that isn't past the borders.? He kicked the first door they came to. ?Watch.?

The door swung open with a squeal of metal on metal to reveal a small, sterile white chamber. Inside, a little girl sat cross-legged in the center of the room, holding a doll incredibly like the one on Fio's bed at home. Her head was bowed over her toy, and she didn't look up when she spoke. ?Leave me alone! You sent them away - I hate you!?

?What are you talking about? Fio? Who..?? He backed away a step.

The child looked up, her freckled face red and tear streaked, and her expression went from resentment to surprise to disbelief, to ecstacy in the span of a second.

?Skiddles!? the child shouted as she leapt to her feet. ?Fi! I thought she made you go away!? And she sailed across the room to fling herself at Skid in a hug. She maybe reached his belly-button, and looked to be about six years old.

?M-missie?? Skid leaned down to pick her up and hold her, much like a child should be held, upon his hip. ?Fio convinced me that we should come back for all of you.? Fio had a hand over her mouth, her expression so tender as she watched them that she might melt. She'd never been awake when he'd interacted with any of the others. These encounters were a learning experience for her, to say the least.

?Skiddles,? Missie kissed his cheeks, cupping his face with her two small hands as she beamed at him happily. ?I can see your whole face!?

?Yes, you certainly can. Is it pretty enough?? He carried her back into the hallway as they spoke, grinning like a fiend.

?It's super pretty!? She grinned, touching her nose to his, her own crinkled.

?I'm so glad you like it.? He chuckled a little, before walking past Fio and smiling to her. He seemed much less distraught over the situation with Missie around, a kind of forced brightness.

?Do you know who's in which cell, Kosj?? A touch of Draconic always seeped into his language eventually.

She kissed him again, squeezed him in another hug, and then shook her head. ?She put me in time out when Fio woke up. I heard her an' Grace fighting after, but I don't know who's where.?

?You know it's okay to be here, right? I won't let anything bad happen to you??

?Uh-huh. I'm not scared with you here.? She waved enthusiastically to Fio as he set her on her feet. Fi waved back, and beckoned her over.

When she was out of the way, he crossed to the door directly across from her cell. ?Here goes,? and he kicked the door. Missie held her hands over her ears against the noise.

Inside a similarly stark white room - clean, sterile, antiseptic - a woman stood in profile, smoking a cigarette. When the door opened, her head snapped around to face them. She was wearing a little black cocktail dress and pearls, fishnet stockings and stiletto heels. Her shoulder-length bob was like something out of the thirties, with ringlets framing her face, and pink, pink lipstick. Her expression went from shock, to disbelief, to adoration before settling into a bemused cynicism. Blowing a puff of smoke to the side, she ground out the butt on the floor with her foot.

?Wow,? she managed, as she started for him with an assessing glance to Fi, a fondly dismissive one to Missie and a hungry one to Skid. ?About time you got here, lover. What took so long??

?Grace,? Skid dashed a long smile. ?It's so disabling to see you again.? His voice carried an edge of want that he could never chase away, even if he'd wanted to. ?One hug, now. We have work to do. And an audience.?

?The kid needs an education,? she didn?t sound entirely serious. She stepped right into his arms, one of her own looping itself over his shoulder to hold him near, while the other roamed between them. He bent her back in a kiss that was so demanding and hard, it almost hurt.

Missie made a gagging sound with her finger in her mouth that brought things back into a semblance of order. He drew back with a grin like sex and murder, and traced a finger along Grace's jaw before moving on to the next door. Missie covered her ears, knowing what was coming. Fio gave Grace the same assessing up and down Grace had given her earlier.

The door swung open to reveal the commander. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her head bowed, as if in meditation. It was plain from her expression when she looked up that she?d heard everything that had been said. She looked like she?d expected a blow to follow.

Skid looked nonplussed.

?Bravo,? he mocked, clapping once. ?Fio, could you speak to her about this? She hates me enough to misunderstand me and then lock herself in a cell because of it.?

He stepped away, and took a lean against the fourth door, tapping on it absently in spurts of ones, twos, and threes. Nothing happened, but he kept it up. Missie went to stand beside him. She took his free hand in hers, petting the back of it soothingly.

?Men,? Grace snorted and rolled her eyes.

Fio stepped into the cell, her head canted questioningly. She figured it was better to give her a chance to speak first. After a moment of silence, the commander obliged.

?You don't get it, do you?? she said flatly. ?We're all prisoners here. We shouldn't exist. We're -- voices in her head. Something for you to study.?

From the door behind him, there was one soft 'tap' - almost accidental, like someone had brushed the door.

?That's where you're wrong. You ignored everything I told you in that room. You're all unique, you need one another, and you all have a desire to exist. You don't have the right to decide who should or shouldn't exist. You think Mister Sunshine downstairs should exist? The monstrosities running these places? Maybe not. Maybe they weren't meant to, but they do.?

He took a moment to think. ?You know. There have always been questions I've wanted to ask about certain subjects, but none of you were able to oblige me. But I think I've got a handle on this. You need to help me on the outside to stop what's coming. I hate to say it, but Fio can't do it on her own. And these doors?? He kicked the one he was leaning against with his heel. ??open both ways.?

And with that, he fell back into the cell, and the door slammed shut after him.

There was a collective gasp. Missie stayed where she was, a little grin playing on her lips. The others rushed forward and tried the knob, tried pushing, pulling and banging against it, to no avail.

Missie kissed her dolly and whispered something to it, before finding herself a chair in the hallway and getting comfortable.

This might just take awhile.

Reunion

?Good. I'll make it easier, at the start.?

When he turned towards the door, it looked very much like the inside of a cell door should. He reached towards the slot and opened it, his voice muffled as he spoke. ?Okay, ladies. Time for some bargaining. Are you all ready to accept your Guilt, and do away with Denial??

They'd all been sitting on benches along the wall, opposite the door. Where they'd come from, no one seemed to know, though Missie was wearing a secretive little smile for a bit as she had whispered to her doll. When his voice came from the door, the adults all stood abruptly, bearing various expressions, from angry, to considering, to bewildered, and speaking all at once. ?Denial? What's he up to? Who's he talking about??

Missie just beamed. ?I will!?

?Missie, you're a beacon of wonderment and I'm sure Fionna is eternally grateful for it. In case you're confused, Fio, she goes by Fionna, too.?

He took a moment to pick out who was saying what aside from Missie. ?Commander, you're the biggest part of this denial. You impose it. You have to accept the Guilt and acknowledge her, or you can't learn from her experiences. Grace, I'm fairly sure that you understand the importance of learning from what you've done. It lets you make more precise decisions. Fio, if you accept her, you can learn what you've lost, and why you've lost it.? He took a breath. ?All of you ? think on it, and tell me what you come up with.?

Fio answered first, after a long pause. ?I want to meet her.? She shot the commander a challenging look. ?I'm tired of things being hidden from me.?

Missie clapped, rocking on the bench and hugging her doll. Grace gave her a measuring look, that moved on then to Fio, and finally to the commander. She pondered outcomes, pursing her lips before answering. ?What the hell. Sure.?

?Fantastic. Commander, can we all count on you to be the leader we all know you are, and try to learn and adapt?? It wasn?t a plea. If anything, his tone had taken a slightly sarcastic edge again. He wasn?t asking her.

The Commander was slow in answering, and she looked ghastly as she did. To her mind, her entire existence was questionable at this point. ?It seems I have no choice.?

?That?s not true. You have a choice. You can object to it, resent it, and never learn from what's happened, or you can try to accept it. You're still Preservation. But you can focus without, rather than within now. I really think you can do better than a half-arsed, gruff, defeated grunt of assent, don?t you??

Missie got up, leaving her doll on the bench, and went over to take the Commander?s hand in her two. She looked up at her, and whispered. ?Don?t let Skiddles make you sad. You still gots to take care of us. Just ... now you get to take care of all of us.?

?She's right,? said Fio.

?Don't look at me. I'm still going to piss you off.? Grace said around the butt of a clove.

It was so hard for her to bend. Not her doing. It was how she shook out in the splintering. She was breathing like she'd been racing. ?I'll try.? It was the best she could do.

As soon as she said that, the door ground open.

?That's all we could've asked for.? Skid said as he led Fionna into the hall, an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder.
Missie ran forward to give them both a wide-armed hug.

?Oh my god,? whispered Fio. She could hardly take her eyes off of her double. Grace looked at her once, and then averted her eyes as if she saw something embarrassing. The Commander simply looked like she didn't know what to do with any of it. And perhaps she didn't.

Fionna shared that with the commander. She was free - it hadn't sunk in yet. She gripped his hand, and then gave a soft grunt and a breathy smile as Missie nearly knocked them over. She, too, had particular eyes for Fio.

One of Skid's arms went down around Missie's shoulder when she came in for them, and he looked up to the rest. ?I think you and Fionna have a lot of catching up to do, Fio. And I think the Commander could use some help getting used to this, from someone who's already used to it. Don't you, Missie??

She nodded, and ran over to grab her doll, before skipping over to the commander; she offered the dolly to her, while one hand took hers. ?It's okay. There's lots of stuff left to do. Do you like to color??

Fio stepped forward, tentatively at first, and extended her arms for a hug. Fionna looked aside to Skid, uncertainly.

?It's alright.? He let his grip on her hand grow lax, urging with his voice, ?She needs you, so very much. She'll make sure you're safe. And if you need me, I'll always be around. All you have to do is look.?

Fionna let loose of his hand, and stepped towards Fio; then, they were embracing, very carefully. Fio gently touched Fionna's face, smoothed through her hair, tried to soothe her.

Missie and the Commander. Fio and Fionna. That left? Skid?s smile lengthened as he turned towards Grace.

?Everyone, if we're done here, I suggest we disconnect for the time being. Now that the conflict has been resolved on this stage, it's safer for you to be back in your own territory to work the other aspects out. I'd suggest since the four of you have a lot on your plates at the moment, Grace takes the wheel...? He practically purred that last.

And with that lovely thought to concentrate on, the world around them fell apart and reassembled into its proper components. He and Grace were once again sitting in the most comfortable chairs in the most comfortable room in his most comfortable home, still as naked as when he and Fio had gone in. That had gone well. He only had to see if Grace was really driving, now. He hoped as much. His whole body suffered a heartbeat once, and that spike of heat radiated from every bit of him.

He?d missed them all so much, right down to the Commander?s insufferable attitude. But that addiction, ecstatic emotion, raw passion?

God, he'd missed Grace.