Emily: "Tristan!"
Tristan: "I heard rumors of your impending move. I was going to bring gifts of bread and salt, but it's been a while since I've seen 'It's a Wonderful Life' and I couldn't remember everything involved. So I brought a candle, slightly used, that this house should never know darkness."
Emily: "I think I'm missing the reference, but thank you-I'll cherish this for all time. We're all gathered in the living room floor having a feast that Serge and Markus brought over. You should join us."
Tristan: "I'd be happy to."
Emily: "Great! I'm just going to put this somewhere safe. I'll be right back."

Emily stepped aside, allowing Tristan to enter before dead bolting the door behind him. She made her way quietly up the stairs to the room she'd chosen as her own-the smaller of the two with a window facing out the back. She was tightly clutching the small candle, its cold wax slowly warming between her hands. She paused by the window, glancing up at the crystal clear night sky before exhaling sharply.

In the months since her hospitalization, she'd seen little of anyone apart from Mary. She'd been released from the hospital quicker than she thought was possible, spending most of her time downstairs on the couch. The first few weeks were little more than a blur of pain-she was left with impressions of visits, fleeting moments in the drugged haze broken by a sense of presence. Markus had stopped by once, seeming guilty yet not apologetic. Mary didn't tell her what had happened for several weeks, and Emily was surprised to find herself oddly indifferent about the whole thing. Tristan had stopped by more often, though less and less as the weeks turned into months. James had never visited.

She found herself staring at the web of pink scars just showing beyond the long sleeves of her shirt and felt a pang of self-consciousness and distaste. They were constant and bitter reminders of her mistakes and the darkness that can reside in the soul of another human being. She scowled at the memory of a thousand insects crawling through her veins and wondered at the state of mind she had to have been in to try cutting them a passage out before finally trying to remove them herself by hand.

Tristan: "I would have brought something more substantial, but I had no idea you were moving until just a little while ago."

Emily was startled by the sound of Tristan's voice, but quickly regained her composure. She unconsciously pulled her sleeves lower over her hands before turning around, holding her arms close to her body.

Emily: "Honestly it wasn't supposed to be a big secret or anything. Mary just had this crazy idea of starting over from scratch without owing anyone anything."
Tristan: "Sounds like her. So how are you?"
Emily: "Right now I'm pretty exhausted, but I'm doing all right."
Tristan: "I'm glad to hear it. You two really didn't have to move all on your own, you know."

Emily: "Again, it wasn't really my idea, but you know how Mary is once she gets something in her head."
Tristan: "More than you can imagine."
Emily: "How have things been with you? It feels like ages since we talked."
Tristan: "Two weeks, three days to be exact. And same old, same old I suppose."

Tristan paused, seeming on the verge of saying something. The last two times they'd been alone together the same thing had happened. The first time he stopped himself, the second time they'd been interrupted just as he was about to speak.

Emily: "Was there something else, or…?"

She watched curiously as he glanced behind him before closing the short distance between them with two quick steps. She felt herself blushing deeply as an odd memory played out just beyond the grasp of her consciousness.

Tristan: "Do you remember… Damn it. You know, you can rehearse something half a million times and it still ends up coming out wrong."
Emily: "Do I remember what?"
Tristan: "Any of what happened."
Emily: "The first thing I remember is waking up and seeing Mary sitting next to me asleep in a chair, everything before that is pretty much gone. Judging by the scar running down the middle of my chest I assume that's not entirely a bad thing."

Tristan: "You don't remember anything at all from when you were… dead?"
Emily: "No, not a thing. I mean, there was the whole 'life flashing before your eyes thing', which was really weird. I'm fairly sure mine even came with bonus footage. I know what you and Mary did for me, but she doesn't remember any more than I do, either. Why? Do you remember something?"

Tristan was quiet again, disappointment clear on his face for a fraction of a second before being replaced by a carefully nonchalant mask.

Tristan: "No… nothing at all. I just wondered."
Emily: "Are you sure?"
Tristan: "Positive."
Emily: "Damn. I was sort of hoping one of us would remember something, you know?"
Tristan: "Something, sure."

Emily: "I don't even know how to begin to thank you for what you did. I don't think it's even possible."
Tristan: "Then don't try, because you don't need to thank me. I don't think I did anything that fantastic--anyone can die."
Emily: "Oh please. I don't care how much practice you've gotten at it; it's still a big deal. So… thank you. I owe you my life."

Tristan: "You're welcome, and no you don't."
Emily: "I can see this argument lasting us a scary long time."
Tristan: "It's not an argument if you just give in and agree that you don't owe me anything."

Emily: "Oh I see how it is. You think you can just flash me that charming smile of yours and I'll let it all slide. You should know up front that it won't work."
Tristan: "I should have known you'd see right through my fiendish plans."
Emily: "I'll just have to use my feminine wiles to somehow convince you that I'm in the right."

Tristan: "That sounds extraordinarily devious to me."
Emily: "It would be complete and utter torture."
Tristan: "Is that a promise?"
Emily: "Absolutely."

Tristan paused a second time, once again seeming to weigh out a hundred different options in the blink of an eye. Suddenly the last of the space between them was gone as he wrapped his arms around her in a gentle but firm embrace that she eagerly returned.

Tristan: "I've really missed you, Emily. I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately."
Emily: "I've really missed you, too."
Tristan: "And you don't have to hide your scars from me."

Emily didn't respond, allowing a quiet understanding to settle around them. After several minutes had passed, she reluctantly pulled away just as Mary began shouting at them from the living room.

Mary: "What are you two doing up there?"
Emily: "He's making violent love to me, right here on the floor. We may be a while."
Mary: "Carry on."

Emily smiled at Tristan, who seemed to have gone seven shades of red but was still doing his best to act unfazed.

Tristan: "'Violent', you say?"
Emily: "Mary understands violence better than passion. Or something. I think I've been hanging around her too much lately. We'd better head downstairs before I embarrass myself beyond redemption."
Tristan: "I don't think that's possible, but lead on."

As they walked together down the creaking stairs, she wondered if she should have mentioned the recurring dreams she'd been having. The emotions involved were so vivid she couldn't help but think they may have been something more than mere dreams. She would wake up with the distinct sense of what it was to be completely insane, the feeling often times taking hours to fade completely. There would be impressions of decay and despair so strong they were almost overpowering, yet exact details always seemed just beyond her grasp.

The sound of her friends' loud laughter brought her firmly back to the present as they rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs.

Mary: "You came back just in time-your chicken was getting ready to jump off your plate."
Emily: "Without any help from you, I assume."
Mary: "Never."

Emily settled back down on the floor next to Mary, focusing intently on the food in front of her. She was fighting off the familiar weakness and dull ache in her arms that never quite seemed to go away, but felt more at peace than she had in as long as she could remember. When there was knock at the door for the third time, Mary got up without hesitation.