“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“JT? Thank fuck, what’s going on? I’ve been going out of my damn mind waiting for you to call.”

“Sorry. I, uhh… they wouldn’t let me.” In his fuzzy and disconnected state it took him a minute to remember the line and concoct a good continuation. Lies really did beget lies. “Good news is I’m coming home.”

“Praise the damn Lord, they caught the guy?”

“Yeah. Turns out it was just your garden variety crazed fan, not an actual terrorist.”

The relief was audible in Trace’s voice. “Well I think pretending to be a threat to national security probably earns her top of the psycho obsessed leader board now but that’s better than somebody actually trying to blow you up. Jesus Christ… when you gonna get here?”

“Soon, should be home tonight.”

“That’s great… you okay? I’d have figured you’d sound happier about that.”

It was extremely tempting to tell Trace everything. The need to get some sympathy for his grief from an actual human being and not one of the immortals was becoming acute. Carmel and Nate were a little less shut off with their emotions than the others but they were all still far too calm and collected. He couldn’t deal with that. Their serenity made him feel weird about crying and cursing and screaming when at various points in the last few hours he’d wanted to do all three. It would be nice to be able to offload on somebody who wouldn’t stifle that impulse.

Unfortunately that was a no go. Trace would immediately have him packed off to some discreet rehab place for therapy if he came out with such a crazy sounding story. Repression was still the order of the day.

“At this point I’m almost too worn out to be pleased about it. I just want to sleep in my own bed and then spend tomorrow not moving from my couch.” That much was true.

“There’s a bunch of games on your Tivo, we could do that. I’ll even bring food since I’m guessing everything in your fridge is bad by now.”

Trace had recorded all the sports he’d missed? And was going to grocery shop so he didn’t have to? That was a true best friend.

“You’re on. Listen, I got to go but I’ll see you soon.”

“Just do me a favour and call your mom, okay? I don’t think she’s slept since I told her.”

“I will. Thanks, man.”

“See you tomorrow.”

His thumb jabbed at the phone and ended the call. Justin leaned back in his seat, head tipping back to stare up at the painted ceiling in Lucas’s front hall. He was waiting on Carmel to escort him home (though he had no idea why she was insisting when he was in the clear now). It was a replica of some Renaissance painting, but thankfully it was a woodland scene rather than any epic Biblical battles or anything that would have fitted its owner. Justin didn’t need to see any more demons today, or ever again. Not even painted ones that wouldn’t look like the real deal.

If nothing else, the day’s events had given him a big old window into Charmian’s head – in all the previous lives he didn’t remember the roles had been reversed. This was his first turn as the survivor. It was too late now to be of any use in relating to her, but he couldn’t imagine having experienced something like today several times over. No wonder she’d got so hysterical over that tandem dream they’d had back at the cabin.

It wasn’t Carmel who eventually rounded the corner but Alex. For a moment something seemed off about it to Justin, but he soon realised it was the lack of noise. The footsteps were still audible but too quiet. He was wearing big chunky boots and not making any visible effort to move softly, it seemed like they should have been louder on the parquet floor.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Justin eyed him warily. They all seemed to be getting along fine now but he’d watched this guy fight his girl with that sneer in his eye. He still didn’t quite trust him.

“Carmel is going to be a while and thanks to Char we really don’t need to escort you home. She’s being overzealous, so don’t wait on her if you don’t want to. You’re welcome to if you’d prefer that but I imagine you probably just want to get the hell out of all this.”

“Uhh… yeah. Thanks.”

Alex turned and started to walk away, but he’d only taken a few steps before he paused. Turning back to look over his shoulder at Justin, he gave as sympathetic an expression as he could manage. It was still pretty cold by most people’s standards but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“I know you’re probably beating yourself up over this, but don’t. It’s hard to explain when you’re not a soldier but it’s what any of us would do for anyone. And you weren’t just anyone to her.”

Justin opened his mouth to speak, but had to shut it again when no words would come out. He had to think very hard for a moment before any kind of comment started to push itself to the front of his mind.

“What are…” It required a deep breath. “What are you doing with…”

“The body?” Alex asked gently.

He was glad he hadn’t had to fill in that blank. “Yeah.”

“We’re discussing it now. We don’t exactly have protocol for this kind of thing but I’ll guess it’ll be some kind of ceremony and then we’ll scatter her ashes somewhere.”

Alex started to walk away again, but this time it was Justin’s voice which made him stop and turn back.

“Paris.”

He looked quizzically at the pop star, his eyebrows rising in surprise. That was one place which hadn’t been on the mooted list so far. “Paris?”

“She liked it there. We, uhh…” Justin’s fingers locked together, one thumb fretfully rubbing at the opposite palm. “Wasn’t much else to do in that cabin except talk. She likes the view from Sacré-Coeur but her favourite spot is… was… Notre-Dame. Not the front side, the other end as you look at it from the bridge.”

Alex’s smile surprised Justin. He didn’t know what Alex did; Charmian had omitted to tell him. She had talked about the places they’d been together but without mentioning their true significance. To Justin it had simply seemed like any old small talk about their favourite spots. He didn’t know that he and Charmian had taken in the view from that bridge one wintery evening - Alexander however remembered arriving and interrupting the moment. Well, maybe it hadn’t been that specific bridge (it had been torn down and reconstructed several times over the centuries), he wasn’t sure how old its current version was. It was always strange to revisit these places and remember how much they’d changed in his time, but still the view of the cathedral from that spot remained the same. Personally he’d always preferred Italy’s architecture to France’s but he could see the appeal.

“I’ll suggest it.”

Perhaps subconsciously that was why he hadn’t left previously, despite the fact that he could have walked out without Carmel at any time. (They weren’t keeping him on lockdown like the last time he’d been there). Maybe he’d needed to hear what was going to happen to her, or maybe he’d simply needed to tell somebody what should happen to her. For once that was done, Justin didn’t hesitate to immediately get up and walk out of the house for good.

**

Nathaniel had always enjoyed straightening the church back out after evening mass. It was a time of quiet reflection and peace for him, and a chance to pat himself on the back for any help he’d managed to offer his flock. That was not to be tonight. His sermon had been stilted, his delivery patchy and distracted. As he picked up the dropped hymnals and counted the contents of the collection plate he was brooding and morose. His feet shuffled a slow and weary trudge around the room. For the first time in his immortal life he felt old.

Something in the back of his mind understood that had he actually been human he’d be inconsolable right about now. It knew that the idea of never seeing the glint of mischievous steel in those dark eyes ever again would have crushed him in mortal form. It was unfathomable. She was supposed to have lived forever but she wouldn’t. Never again would he see her roll her eyes at his priesthood, complain about his stories or mock him for being doddery.

A number of avengers had little time for guides except when they needed some obscure bit of knowledge. That was never the case with her. All four of the team treated him as if he was some kind of twinkly-eyed uncle. He had enjoyed the time with her, enjoyed gently teasing her when she was in one of her moods or complaining about Alexander. Now all would be silence and he found the thought hard to process.

He knew his brain was AWOL when he found himself straightening out the same pile of books he’d already rearranged. When he promptly knocked them back off the table that was when he knew he was really a lost cause.

“Wow. When’d you get so clumsy, old man?”

His head snapped up at speed. There had been no footsteps, no rustling, simply the voice. The moment he saw its owner he woke immediately up from his stupor - there was nothing like the impossible occurring to suddenly sharpen your mind. Nathaniel snatched up his discarded bottle of water and started trying to work out how quickly and subtly he could get over to the font. Holy water was the only thing he could defend himself with; he did not fancy another abduction.

“She’s not even in the ground yet. Decorum would dictate you at least wait until after the funeral.”

The demon wearing Charmian’s face held up her hands. “I swear, Nate, it’s me.”

“No, it’s not. Charmian is dead.” He started inching sideways.

“That’s true, I am dead, but I am honestly truly here. It’s kind of a long story but it’s not important right now. I need your help, Nathaniel, and I don’t have a lot of time. She didn’t give me long.”

He was almost insulted. Was he supposed to fall for such base emotional manipulation? “Sorry, I may be a priest but I’m not Jesus. Resurrections are beyond me.”

Charmian let out an involuntary snort of laughter and shook her head. “You know I really do kind of love you.” She rubbed a hand over her lips to recompose herself. “Look, I don’t have time to sit here and try to convince you so just do whatever you need to do to reassure yourself that I’m not some demon bitch wearing a face. Toss some holy water at me, quiz me, I don’t care. I could tell you my least favourite Bible story if that helps?”

That made him stop in his tracks. How could a demon know about her impatience with his quoting of Scripture? Nathaniel stood rigid, eyes trailing her up and down. Of course she looked exactly like Charmian but that wasn’t what he was looking for. He wasn’t even sure what that was. Maybe it was a look in her eye or something in her stance but he would know it when he saw it.

“You’re the one who keeps telling me all things are possible and the mortals got that one right,” she said softly. “You know me, Nate. You’re the one who’s coached me through all my shit and I need you to do it again, please.”

“If you really are Charmian in such desperate need of my counsel, then surely you remember my last.” The words rolled out slowly.

She immediately caught on – this was his test. What was the last thing he’d said to her before she’d been yanked out of that room? She’d been pissy and despairing, berating herself for her mistakes and terrified of the threat that faced her. The rant was about how she’d got so much wrong, she wasn’t up to the task… oh yes. That was it.

“That I and my ridiculously ill-fated relationship were chosen for a reason. I’m deeply annoyed but it turns out you were entirely factually accurate on that one.”

It also turned out that even when you were dead you could still have the breath knocked out of your lungs. Nathaniel had most uncharacteristically flung himself at her and was hugging her with too much force. He seemed to have forgotten that in her human guise he was stronger than her.

“Nice to see you too, old man.” She spluttered. “Could you relax the death grip? Once was enough.”

“Charmian.” Nathaniel stepped back and took her face in his hands, at a loss for words. “I… how?”

“Turns out you’re right, the light really can do anything. Though its conduit is kind of a bitch.”

“You… you met…”

“Long story, don’t have time to tell it right now. I really do need some advice here and I haven’t got long before she pulls me back. I had to do some serious bargaining to get her to let me see you. ”

Nathaniel looked at her in dismay. He had only just got her back and after that comment he now had a million questions to ask. A guide’s thirst for knowledge was never-ending.

“She gave me a choice.” Charmian rushed on, not heeding his expression. “I can go on and do whatever it is dead people do, or she can make me an avenger again. And on the one hand I don’t want to leave anybody and I’m not sure I’m ready to go. But on the other I’m just kind of tired of everything being so God damned hard and she told me some stuff that really makes me question my entire existence. Maybe I should just go for a whole fresh start, let them wipe me and then eventually I can start again when I get reborn. Or maybe that’s the coward’s way out… I don’t know what to do, Nate.”

“And you came to me?”

That was affecting in a way he really wasn’t used to. It wasn’t only avengers who experienced muted emotions.

“Well no shit, I come to you with all my issues. You do your whole irritating wise sage thing like you’re God damn Yoda or whatever and you tease me the whole time and I refuse to admit that you’re nearly always on the money. That’s how we work.”

It was a fair assessment but it didn’t help him much. He had little idea of what he could say to her. It was a monumental decision and even hundreds of years of study and knowledge seemed to ill-equip him for it.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I have been going over and over it all in my head and I’m driving myself crazy because I can’t work out what to do. I mean, can I really just make a choice and say ‘cool, I’m done’ like that? Am I really finished?” Her tone was desperate. “I saved him, completed my life long mission and all that jazz. And even if I stay it’s not like I could really be with him anyway since he’d still be mortal and I wouldn’t be. But then when I think that I think of how I could be back with my team, back in my place, doing some good. I don’t want anybody to miss me, I don’t want to go knowing that I wouldn’t even remember them… but then I don’t know if maybe I’m just done with it all being so hard.”

Nate frowned at her, wishing he knew what to say. Still, he’d always found that if he let her ramble on enough she usually answered her own question in some way or another. That was his great trick – he let people tell him the answers. He didn’t actually offer much advice at all.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I keep thinking that maybe if I stay it would just be a new way for me to not be able to have what I want from my life, and maybe it’s only fear of the unknown stopping me passing on. Which would make sense, right? Since I’m so old at this point that barely anything’s new or unexpected. But then I go the other way and I think maybe that’s dumb. Maybe I wouldn’t be sitting around pining for Justin, maybe I’d finally get over it knowing that I hadn’t failed this time … I keep spinning it all round and round in my head and I can’t work it out, I’m frickin’ dizzy at this point. I need you to tell me what to do.”

“I…” Nathaniel was still lost for words. She was rushed and jumbled, but even so her dilemma seemed pretty clear. What also seemed clear was his complete inadequacy for the task. “This may sound like an obvious question but what do you actually want, Charmian? Never mind what you think is practical, what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head and gazed up at the stained glass windows. “None of it makes any sense, that’s what I’m stuck on. Everything that’s happened has been about this big great love one way or another; I’m being given this chance precisely as a reward for being in love with this guy and saving him as a result. She even told me the same kind of crap you did about that, about how big a part of my being it is, but it still works out doomed. How does that follow? Dead or avenger, I still don’t wind up in the relationship that this whole fucking mess has been about. So what’s the point? If I’m not following that any more, what am I supposed to be looking at?”

When she picked up a discarded hymnal and threw it at the font he let the transgression slide.

“It’s illogical, Nate, that’s what it is! And I don’t know how to make that choice when there’s no rhyme or reason in the options!”

There seemed little he could add to that. When she framed it like that he had to agree – it was illogical to the point of being a nonsense. Why revolve everything around that only to discard it at such a crucial crossroads?

“Well. Under the circumstances I don’t think anybody could blame you for the indecision.”

“So you see why I need you to do your Atticus schtick so badly.”

Nate sighed and patted her shoulder in what he hoped was comforting fashion. “I wish I could be more help but I’m not sure what I could give you except platitudes about following your gut. I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you how to live or die.”

“Sure you can! You’re a priest, isn’t that supposed to be your stock and trade?”

Well. At least he could see death hadn’t had too much of an adverse effect. She was still a smart ass.