Emily sat in a small wooden chair facing the window, her focus centered entirely on the curls of paint being slowly released from the relentless hold of the windowsill. She thought at one point she'd seen this house in another lifetime, far removed from where she was now. She felt it was somewhere she'd never see again, but for reasons that were long lost to her now.

Her breathing was slow and shallow, a pointless exercise done mostly out of habit. She was comforted by the sorrows brought by the fire of memories burning in her mind, the lines of reality long since wiped away. Her life- what she'd thought had been her life -had been nothing more than a play of shadows; characters and events invented and twisted in the deepest recesses of her psyche.

As she continued to stare ahead she heard the quiet murmur of distant voices, vague sounds that echoed in her head with the slightest caress of familiarity. She'd started to become comfortable in the madness, though she wasn't sure how well she was going to be able to deal with aural hallucinations. The harder she tried to block them out the louder they became, almost as though they were coming closer. Within seconds the sound of the voices was clear enough for her to place, and she felt the burn of a tear on her cheek.

Suddenly the room was filled with a soft violet light and a sharp crackling. Emily turned away from the window and knew she'd finally lost the final pieces of her sanity at long last.

Mary and Tristan stood staring at her, both of them wearing the same slightly confused expression. Emily marveled at the way her mind was able to create such startlingly realistic details- the small tangle in Mary's hair, a minute smudge of dirt on Tristan's right hand. She wondered if she could make them talk to her or if the details took too much effort, rendering them mute. Before she had a chance to worry about whether or not they'd be able to even move, they'd both crossed the room. Emily jumped back, startled by the seemingly aggressive action from her hallucination.

Mary: "Emily! Is it really you?! You would not believe the shit we had to go through to find you!"
Tristan: "We have to get you out of here, there isn't much time."
Emily: "I wonder if this counts as talking to myself."
Mary: "What the hell are you talking about?"

Emily's mouth twisted into a crooked half-smile. It made a frighteningly large amount of sense, really, that her complete descent into psychosis would be marked by the returning of two people who'd meant so much to her. Here, in this world created in her own head, she could be reunited with them forever, blissfully unaware of the world outside these disintegrating walls. She wondered if she concentrated hard enough if she'd be able to see through the crumbling plaster to the padded walls she was sure held her in reality.

Emily: "You know everything I know, so you shouldn't have to ask. Although I don't suppose that would leave much in the way of interesting conversation."
Mary: "I think that dying has messed with your head a bit, Em."
Emily: "I'm not the one who died, Mary. It was you."

Mary: "Not until after you'd died. Trust me, it's not something that I'll be forgetting any time soon."
Emily: "I went to your funeral, I saw them put you in the ground. That's not something I'll be forgetting any time soon."

Tristan: "And what about me? Did you go to my funeral as well?"
Emily: "No, because you were never alive to begin with. I made you up but then you left town. I think that's how it worked, anyway. James was under the impression that you died a long time ago, but then again he didn't even recognize me so I'm not putting too much weight into what he said. Also I'm not so sure he ever really existed either."

Emily watched as Mary and Tristan exchanged worried looks and felt a strange tug deep within the center of her being. She brushed it off as the last remaining shreds of her sanity in its death throes.

Mary: "You really have no idea what happened to you, do you?"
Emily: "You died and now you're haunting me, but because there's really no such thing as ghosts I had to conjure you up myself. I think I did a pretty damn good job of it, too."
Mary: "Emily, earlier tonight you killed yourself. I died to come get your ass out of this place so you can clean up the mess you left."

Emily: "No, earlier tonight I was at a diner talking to James. And why the hell would I kill myself?! That's the craziest thing I've heard in… well I'm not exactly sure how long, but I'm sure it's been a long time!"
Tristan: "We don't know why you did it-"
Mary: "Although I'm sure Andrew Stone had something to do with it."
Tristan: "-but you've got to believe us."

Emily wavered slightly on her feet as a flash of a memory danced across her mind. The dull ache in her lower arms became sharper and more focused for a few seconds before fading back to the lingering discomfort.

Emily: "Why does Andrew Stone sound so familiar?"
Mary: "Because he's your boyfriend maybe?"
Emily: "No, I've been seeing Azrael for almost a year now."

Mary: "Azrael?"
Tristan: "The Angel of Death, marked as the last being to die in the Apocalypse."
Mary: "Oh. I see…"

Once again Emily felt the floor tilting beneath her feet as a vision of pools of blood flashed before her eyes. It felt like remembering a dream, as though she were watching herself through her own eyes. She shook off the sensation, though she still felt a remaining unease.

Emily: "Let's say for the sake of argument that it was actually me who died and not Mary. How are the two of you even here if you're both alive?"
Tristan: "Technically we're all dead now, but it's ok because we have a plan to get us out of here."

Emily: "So you both pretty much killed yourselves then?"
Tristan: "I guess you could say that, yes."

Emily: "I'm insane. Completely bat shit crazy. It's suddenly not as comforting as it was earlier."
Mary: "For fuck's sake, Emily, you're not insane you're just dead! Now come on, I don't want to have to stay this way."

Emily felt a rising panic. It was beginning to sink in that she really only had two options- she was either completely psychotic, or dead -neither of which was very comforting. Regardless of which of the two was actually true, she didn't want to have to stay in either state. The more she thought about it, the less choice she seemed to have. Even if acknowledging the fact that she was dead was only another way of giving in to insanity, at least she'd be taking control of the situation and doing something about it.

At the exact instant she accepted that she was dead, the world seemed to split apart and shatter into a thousand glistening shards. The crumbling walls around her were replaced with the empty walls of Tristan's house, the last place she could clearly remember being before she'd decided she was crazy. A flood of memories rushed into her mind, everything that had happened to her was now unlocked. She felt her arms split open once again, only this time she remembered being the one to tear them apart. She started to collapse to her knees as a wave of pain overcame her, but Mary and Tristan were instantly at her side holding her up.

Mary: "My god, Emily, are you ok?"
Emily: "It hurts pretty bad, but I'll be all right. I think it's already starting to fade a little."

Tristan: "You remember now, don't you?"
Emily: "I remember all of it."
Tristan: "We should leave as soon as you feel up to it."
Mary: "We'll probably have to go out the same way we came in, through some sort of mystic portal or something. Tristan, keep an eye on Em while I look for it."

Emily self-consciously crossed her arms to hide the deep red gashes she was sure ran their entire length. The very sensation of the cuts filled her with a sharp anger she wasn't quite ready to face yet.

Emily: "Thank you, both of you. It's… nowhere near enough. There aren't words for how grateful I am that you did this."

Mary stopped poking at empty air and turned around to face her friend.

Mary: "Em…"
Emily: "You shouldn't have even had to do it in the first place. This wasn't my intent."

She unfolded her arms for just a moment, exposing a flickering image of garish wounds, echoes from the world above. Mary grimaced, though Emily could tell she'd tried her best not to.

Mary: "Save the thanks for when we're actually out of this place. I have a sinking suspicion that if we get caught they're not going to let us hang out together for the rest of eternity."

Mary turned sharply and went back to jabbing around the air in front of her. Emily thought it would have been humorous under more normal circumstances, but now it just seemed eerie. She turned her attention to Tristan, who was shifting anxiously in the uncomfortable silence.

Emily: "So how did you get here? Did you have to stake yourself or something?"
Tristan: "No, nothing like that at all actually. Abigail sent me."
Emily: "She's back in town?"
Tristan: "Yeah, something about helping us in order to avert an apocalypse or some such."

Emily: "I can see Mary having a hand in destroying the world. I'm a little more shocked at the idea of you having anything to do with it."
Mary: "I heard that!"

A look of utter embarrassment passed over Tristan's face, though he was quick to recover. He looked around, as if seeing the surroundings for the first time.

Tristan: "Listen, I really have to ask- is there any reason why we're in my house?"
Emily: "I was looking for you just before I started to go insane."
Tristan: "I'm sorry I wasn't here."
Emily: "You're here now."

Tristan smiled softly, filling Emily with a bittersweet warmth. Before she had a chance to say anything else Mary had let out an excited yelp, startling her from her mass of thoughts.

Mary: "I found it! Come on, let's get out of here!"

Emily watched in amazement as Mary took a step forward and vanished into thin air. She looked up at Tristan, who was still smiling at her.

Tristan: "Ready?"

She felt her head spinning, her heart beating so hard she thought for sure it would break free from the cage of her chest. Before she had too much time to think about what she was doing she threw her arms around him, pulling him close and kissing him awkwardly.

It was a perfect moment, sweet and transitory. She felt all the pain and confusion wash away, the entire world narrowing down to just the two of them as she felt his arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly as the shock wore off. She closed her eyes, releasing tears that she'd held inside for far too long. He filled her senses completely, from the delicate taste of his lips to the all-encompassing aroma of cinnamon over the slightest hint of salty sweat. She pulled away slowly and reluctantly, wiping away the tears that stung her eyes and blurred her vision.

Tristan: "Emily…"
Emily: "No, don't talk. Just listen. I don't know what's going to happen when we step through that portal, what might be waiting for us on the other side. What you've done, what you've clearly gone through for me-it's way more than you should have. I wish I was the person you see me as, the person who's worth dying for."

Emily paused, taking a deep breath. She was reeling, but knew she had to continue.

Emily: "You're very lucky to have Deanna. Don't let her go."

A shadow of pain came over Tristan's face as he looked silently into her tear-rimmed eyes. She dropped her gaze and turned quickly, heading to where Mary had vanished only moments earlier. She set aside the heaviness in her heart and began to focus on the anger, letting it build slowly to a controlled burning rage from which she could draw power. She knew in her heart the gateway before her wouldn't be leading them out from the underworld, and that this was far from over.